The Rudolf Steiner Archive

3. The Meaning of Prophethood

[ 1 ] It is certainly true what Shakespeare has one of his most famous characters say, and what is usually rendered in German with the words: “There are more things in heaven and earth than you can dream of with your book learning.” — But it is certainly no less true what a great German humorist, Lichtenberg, put into words, as it were, in response to this: “There are many things in book learning that are to be found neither in heaven nor on earth!” — Taken together, these two sayings shed light, so to speak, on the way in which many things are treated in our present age with regard to the subject to be discussed in these lectures. When dealing with a subject such as today’s, one must certainly say: It seems even more understandable—more so than in other areas of supersensory research, more so than in other areas of the spiritual sciences—that, when it comes to such a topic, there are broad circles, particularly within serious, rigorous science, that deny such things. For even if it is very difficult to draw the line—in the other fields, or at least in many of the other fields of spiritual science—between what constitutes honest, serious research and what is charlatanism or perhaps something even worse, one must say: wherever supersensory research is in any way connected to human egoism, that is where the dangerous aspects of this research begin. — And in what fields of higher knowledge could this be more true than in all that falls under the theme of prophecy, as it has appeared throughout the ages? After all, everything designated by the word “prophecy” is directly connected to a—albeit understandable—widespread human trait: the human desire to penetrate the darkness of the future, to know something of what is in store for a person on their future path through life.

[ 2 ] Interest in prophecy is linked not merely to any kind of curiosity, but to a curiosity that, so to speak, delves into the most intimate and profound aspects of the human soul. It is therefore no wonder that in our time—after humanity has had such poor experiences in the course of its development in satisfying all those thirsts for knowledge that are so deeply connected to the interests of the human soul—science, if it wishes to be taken seriously, wants nothing more to do with such matters. Yet it seems as though our age has no choice but to engage once again with these matters, just as with so many other things we have discussed in the previous lectures and will continue to discuss in the future. After all, as many of you will know, even a pure historian, Kemmerich, has written a book on “prophecies,” in which his sole aim is to compile what can, in a certain sense, be historically substantiated by facts that indicate that important events were foreseen or predicted by this or that person. Indeed, this historian even feels compelled to state that there is scarcely any significant event in the course of history that has not been at least foretold, foreseen, anticipated, and even proclaimed in advance. Such assertions are still not welcomed today. But within the limits in which history takes hold of events, it will ultimately be impossible to avoid them, since both the events of the past and those of the present will be substantiated by clear, external documents.

[ 3 ] The field we wish to discuss today has not always been held in such low esteem as it is in our time; nor has it always been dependent on such dubious spheres of human endeavor as it is today. We need only go back a few centuries to find that, for example, in the sixteenth century, outstanding and influential scholarship was certainly represented within the prophetic movement of that time. Let us consider one of the greatest minds in scientific research of all time in connection with a figure known for his inclination toward a view of life that places itself in the light of prophecies; let us consider Kepler, the great natural scientist, in connection with the name Wallenstein, a figure who interested Schiller not in the least because he placed his life in the light of prophetic wisdom. The kind of prophecy that we encounter in Kepler’s time—and that was so prevalent throughout Europe a few centuries ago that enlightened, scientifically leading minds engaged with it—is connected to the way people at that time viewed the interrelationships of the celestial world, the movements of the stars, and the relationship of the stars to human life. That prophecy of the time is, in essence, somehow connected to astrology. One need only utter this word to realize that even today, in wider circles, there remains an awareness of how a connection is conceived between the future events of an individual’s life—or even the life of nations—and the course of the celestial bodies. But never before had what is called prophetic insight or the art of prophecy been conceived as so directly connected to the observation of the movements and constellations of the stars as it was in Kepler’s time.

[ 4 ] If we go back to the Greek era, however, we see that a prophetic art did exist, which, as you are no doubt aware, was practiced largely by female prophets. It was a prophetic art brought about by exposing a person to very specific experiences—for example, experiences of asceticism or experiences that, in a different way, suppressed self-awareness and the level-headedness of everyday life—so that the person was surrendered to other powers, as if out of themselves, as if in ecstasy, and would then say things that either referred directly to the future or were interpreted by the listening priests or sages as relating to the future. Immediately the image of the Pythia, the prophetess at Delphi, comes to mind—she who, through the vapors rising from a crevice in the earth, was transported into a different state of mind than the state of consciousness of ordinary daily life, and who was then at the mercy of powers with which she otherwise had no connection, which she otherwise did not think about, and from such a state she would now make corresponding pronouncements. Here we see a kind of prophecy that is not related to the calculation of star constellations or astrology.

[ 5 ] Likewise, everyone is familiar with the prophetic tradition of the Old Testament people, which, of course, may be questioned as such by today’s Enlightenment, but which—if it is to be characterized initially only in terms of its distinctive nature— insofar as it came from the mouths of these prophets, not only conveyed important sayings of wisdom that set the tone for what was happening within the Old Testament people, but also made prophetic statements about the future. Yet we do not view this prophetic tradition in the same way as the astrology of the fifteenth, sixteenth centuries, which makes predictions based on the starry heavens and constellations; rather, we see once again how—whether through the special aptitudes of the individuals in question or through asceticism, specific exercises, and so on—these prophets attain a state of consciousness different from that of the rest of humanity, through which they are torn away from everyday life and are unable to judge ordinary life. Instead, however, we see them looking into the grand context of their people’s history; we see them perceiving what constitutes the fortune and misfortune of their people. Because they experience, as it were, something superhuman—something that transcends individual human interests—they detach their souls from immediate consciousness, and it is as if the god Yahweh himself were speaking through them. Their hints seemed so wise, as if Yahweh himself were proclaiming to the people what they must do and what their future destinies would be.

[ 6 ] When we consider this, it must surely seem to us that the nature of prophecy, as it appears to us at the end of the Middle Ages on the eve of modern science, is merely a particular form, and as if prophecy were a broader field, one that is, however, always connected in some way to certain specific states of the soul that a person attains only when he or she detaches from his or her personality. It must be said, however, that astrological prophecy hardly seems recognizable anymore as an art through which a person detaches from his or her personality. For the astrologer, upon receiving a person’s date of birth, searches according to that date to determine what the constellation is at that hour, which constellation is just rising above the horizon, and what the relationship of the other stars to that constellation is at the hour of birth; and from this calculates how the course of the constellations will proceed throughout that person’s life, and—based on certain views regarding the favorable or unfavorable influence of certain stars and constellations on human life—predicts, according to such calculations, what will occur in the life of a person or a people — such an astrologer seems to us little more than a figure like the ancient Jewish prophet, or the Greek prophetesses, or indeed the ancient prophets in general, who had stepped outside ordinary consciousness and, in a state of ecstasy, foretold the future based solely on knowledge drawn from the supernatural. What disturbs people today most about these astrological prophecies—insofar as they count themselves among the enlightened segment of our educated class—is that it is difficult to see what the course of the stars, the constellations of stars, are supposed to have to do with what happens in a person’s life, in the life of a people, or in the sequence of historical events here on Earth. And since modern understanding is focused on something entirely different from such connections, people no longer take any particular interest in what, in times when even enlightened science was compatible with astrological prophecy, had appeared above all as something certain, as something real.

[ 7 ] Even the great, influential researcher and scholar Kepler not only discovered his Keplerian laws—he was not only one of the greatest astronomers of all time—but he also devoted himself to astrological prophecy. And in his time—both shortly before and shortly after—we find numerous truly enlightened minds who were devoted to this same art, and who, from their perspective—if one considers all things objectively—could not help but take this prophetic art, these prophetic insights, just as seriously as our contemporaries today take any branch of science seriously and with due respect. For one might easily argue that any prediction—made, for example, at the time of a person’s birth, derived from celestial constellations, and subsequently confirmed by that person’s life—is based merely on a kind of coincidence. Certainly, in an infinite number of cases, one must admit that the striking impression one may have of the fulfillment of astrological predictions is simply due to the fact that one is surprised when such a prediction comes true, and thus retains the aspects that correspond while forgetting what did not come to pass. In a certain sense, however, that Greek atheist is quite right—the one who once arrived by ship in a coastal town where, at a place of sacrifice, certain tokens were hung by people who had made a vow at sea that, if they were rescued from any shipwreck, they would hang such a token at such a place of sacrifice. Certainly, there were many such tokens hanging there. There was no doubt: they all came from people who had been rescued from shipwrecks. But the Greek atheist in question believed that one could only know the truth if one were also to hang the tokens of all those who, despite that vow, had perished in shipwrecks. Then it would become clear which group had hung more tokens. Similarly, one could also say: An objective judgment can only be reached if one were to record not only all astrological predictions that came true, but also all those that did not. — But in light of such a view—which is, of course, always possible—certain things once again appear highly striking. Since I cannot assume a thorough knowledge of all the foundations of the spiritual sciences in these public lectures, I must also point out what can give the general public an idea of the significance of such matters in the fields we are discussing here.

[ 8 ] It must surely strike even the greatest skeptic as striking when, for example, the following fact comes to light. Wallenstein—to stick with well-known figures—turned to the great Kepler, whose name every scientist can mention only with reverence, to have him draw up his horoscope—that is, the prediction regarding his future life as revealed by the stars. He received this horoscope from Kepler. Wallenstein’s horoscope had been drawn up with a certain degree of caution. It was not drawn up in such a way that Wallenstein wrote to Kepler at a certain point in his life, stating that he was born on such-and-such a date and now wished to receive his horoscope from him; rather, it happened in the following manner —for it was not as foolish as people believe today—that an intermediary was chosen, so that the person tasked with drawing up the horoscope did not know whose horoscope he was actually preparing. Only the date of birth was provided. Kepler, therefore, did not know who the person was. By that time, Wallenstein had already experienced a number of events, which he also requested be recorded, and he wanted a record to be made of his future experiences as well. Kepler drew up the horoscope he had been asked to prepare. In it, Wallenstein found—as is often the case with horoscopes—a strong correspondence with many of his experiences. He came to trust the horoscope—a process that occurred in this way for many people of that time—and in some cases he succeeded in organizing his life in accordance with certain such predictions. Now it must be said right away that in his past life, numerous facts were accurate, but some were not. The same was true of predictions regarding the future. This was the case with numerous horoscopes. At that time, however, people followed a peculiar practice, which consisted of saying: “Something must be incorrect about the time of birth, and perhaps the astrologer in question could correct the time of birth slightly.” — Wallenstein did something similar. He asked Kepler to correct the time of birth; it was only a very slight adjustment; as a result, more accurate data emerged, which now matched up better. On the other hand, it must be said that Kepler was a thoroughly honest man and did not at all like to do something like correcting the time of birth. From the letter Kepler wrote to Wallenstein about this at the time, one senses that he did not do it willingly and could not recommend such a procedure, for if one were to undertake something like that, one could, after all, determine all sorts of things in this way. Nevertheless, he undertook this task requested by Wallenstein—it was in the year 1625—and once again provided insights into Wallenstein’s future life; specifically, he told him that, based on his current reading of the celestial patterns, the constellations would be exceptionally unfavorable for Wallenstein in the year 1634. He also added that, since there was still so much time until then, he could predict it; for even if Wallenstein were to become agitated, that agitation would have subsided by the time these unfavorable circumstances arose—but he did not believe it would pose a danger to whatever Wallenstein might do. It was predicted for March 1634. And lo and behold: just a few weeks before that date, the events that led to Wallenstein’s assassination began to unfold. These are things that, at the very least, are striking.

[ 9 ] But let us consider other examples—not from among the ranks of minor astrologers, but rather those who associate with enlightened minds. Here we must mention an extraordinarily significant figure in this field: I am referring to Michel Nostradamus. Nostradamus was a distinguished physician who, among other things, had an immensely healing effect during a plague epidemic; he was deeply revered precisely because of the selfless manner in which he devoted himself to his medical profession. It is also known, however, that when he was frequently treated with hostility by his medical colleagues because of this selflessness, he withdrew from his medical practice to the solitude of Salon. There, unlike Kepler or others, he did not observe the stars; rather, he had a special room in his house to which he had withdrawn. From this room—as can be inferred from his own accounts—he actually observed the stars only as they presented themselves to the eye, not by performing specific mathematical calculations, but simply by following what the mind, soul, and imagination can pursue when exposed to the wonders of the night sky. Nostradamus spent many, many hours—hours full of fervor and devotion—in this peculiar chamber, which offered the most unobstructed view of the starry sky in every direction. And so we have from him not only individual predictions, but a whole long series of the most varied predictions about future events, which came true in the strangest ways, so that the historian Kemmerich, mentioned earlier, cannot help but be struck by them and, even after a long time, still attach some importance to Nostradamus’s predictions. Nostradamus first came to prominence with some of his predictions. Naturally, he was initially ridiculed in his own time, for he could not even point to any astrological calculations to support them. It was as if, through the sight of the stars, the future had revealed itself to him in remarkable images and visions—for example, as if the outcome of the Battle of Gravelingen in 1558, which the French lost with heavy casualties, had dawned on him in a grand vision. Another prediction, made long in advance for the year 1559, concerned the fact that King Henry II of France would be killed in a duel, as he said. People simply laughed at this. The queen herself laughed and remarked that this was the clearest indication of how little credence should be given to such predictions, since a king was above engaging in a duel. But lo and behold: during a tournament, the king fell in the predicted year. And we could cite many other events that occurred only later and which, when interpreted in the proper manner, can only be called fulfilled prophecies of Nostradamus.

[ 10 ] Next, we have another enlightened mind of the sixteenth century who is again of great significance as an astronomer: Tycho de Brahe. Today’s world knows Tycho de Brahe hardly at all, other than to say that he only partially embraced the Copernican worldview. But anyone familiar with his life knows, for example, what Tycho Brahe accomplished in the creation of star charts, how he improved the existing star charts of his time in an outstanding manner—since he was an astronomer of exceptional importance for his era—and how he discovered new stars, and so on. But Tycho de Brahe was at the same time a person who was deeply imbued with the conviction that not only are the physical conditions on Earth connected to the entire world, but that what people experience spiritually is also linked to the events of the great cosmos. Thus it came to pass that Tycho de Brahe was not only a great astronomer who observed the stars, but that he related the events of the heavens to the events of human life. And it was indeed striking that Tycho de Brahe, as early as the age of twenty, when he arrived in Rostock, predicted the death of Sultan Suleiman—not to the exact day, but it did come to pass, albeit with a slight inaccuracy. It was an imprecise prediction, but one that one—perhaps especially as a historian—cannot dismiss; for even if one were to lie, one would not lie only halfway and include a difference of a few days in the result.

[ 11 ] The King of Denmark then had Tycho de Brahe draw up horoscopes for his three sons. It proved accurate for his son Christian, but less so for his other son, Ulrich. But Tycho de Brahe made a curious prediction about the third son, Hans, one that was derived from the movement of the stars. The entire constellation—everything that could be seen for Duke Hans—indicated that he was and would remain a frail man who would scarcely reach old age. Since the exact time of birth was not entirely certain, Tycho de Brahe made his prediction with great caution: Perhaps he would die at the age of eighteen, perhaps at nineteen, for that is when particularly unfavorable constellations occur. — I will leave it open as to whether he did this out of a certain consideration for the parents or for some other reason, for he wrote that it was indeed possible that this dreadful constellation regarding the eighteenth or nineteenth year could be overcome in Duke Hans’s life; in that case, God would be his protector. But one must realize that these circumstances exist, that Hans would initially have an exceptionally unfavorable alignment with Mars, and that he would therefore be exposed to warlike entanglements in his early youth. But since, with regard to this alignment, Venus would still be favorably positioned above Mars, one could hope that he would make it through this period. But then, precisely around the ages of eighteen and nineteen, that unfavorable, dangerous configuration would arise, caused by Saturn—which is hostile to Hans—and indicating that he would be prone to a “damp, melancholic” illness, which must stem specifically from the unfamiliar environment into which this person would then be placed.

[ 12 ] What was the course of Duke Hans’s life? As a young man, he became entangled in the political circumstances of the time, was sent to war, fought in a battle—the Battle of Ostend—and then, as a result of that—as Tycho de Brahe had specifically predicted—had to endure severe storms at sea. He came close to perishing. Then negotiations were initiated by friendly parties regarding a marriage between Duke Hans and the Tsar’s daughter, and for this reason he himself was recalled to Denmark. Tycho de Brahe interpreted this to mean that Mars had exerted a strong influence on the duke, but that the complications arising from Mars’s unfavorable influences were held in check by the influences coming from Venus, so that Venus—who is the protector of romantic relationships—initially protected Duke Hans. But then, in his eighteenth and nineteenth years, the hostile influence of Saturn set in. He was sent to Moscow. He made it as far as St. Petersburg. One can imagine the mood in which the Danish court viewed the young Duke. All preparations for the marriage had been made; news of the union’s completion was expected at any moment. Instead, first came word that the marriage had been postponed, then news of the Duke’s illness, and finally the news of his death.

[ 13 ] Such things struck contemporaries as astonishing. But there can be no denying that such things must also strike future generations as astonishing. And finally, it is also true that world history sometimes has a sense of humor—as was the case, for example, with that professor who claimed that the female brain weighed less than the male brain, only to have his own brain, when weighed after his death, turn out to be particularly light, so that he fell victim to a humorous prank of the world spirit. The same thing happened to Giovanni Pico of Mirandola, for whom a horoscope had been drawn up and who was told that Mars was particularly unfavorable to him and would bring him great misfortune. He was an opponent of all such prophecies. Lucius Bellantius had even shown him that everything he had objected to regarding astrological interpretations was incorrect. He then died in the very year for which the unfavorable influence of Mars had been predicted.

[ 14 ] We could cite numerous examples and might come to the conclusion that, in a certain sense, it is indeed easy to raise objections to some of these or those statements. Certainly, we must take seriously the objections raised by a very prominent contemporary astronomer—one who is particularly worthy of admiration for his humanitarian efforts—against everything that can be said regarding the timing of Wallenstein’s death according to Kepler’s horoscope. We must admit that Wilhelm Förster’s counterargument must be taken seriously: “Wallenstein was aware of this fact.” As the year in question approached, and as he recalled his horoscope, he became hesitant, did not act decisively as he otherwise would have, and in this way brought about the unfortunate outcome himself. — Such objections can always be raised. On the other hand, however, one must bear in mind that if one can provide any scientific evidence at all based on external data, then even today those details are entirely sufficient for establishing scientific facts that—let us say—do not require more definitive proof. Some things may well be problematic, but one should not lose sight of the fact that the careful comparison of past life data—which involved information derived from the stars—led to confidence in what was to happen in the future. Despite all that went wrong, people were already aware of what went wrong and failed to uncover the striking connections, but they did not accept this in a completely uncritical manner. People of that era were also capable of applying criticism and perhaps applied it quite extensively in some cases.

[ 15 ] Whatever one may think about these matters, I simply wanted to cite the most striking of these examples to show that even through the lens of modern science—using the methods of modern science—it is possible to discuss these matters seriously. And even if one were to consider the arguments against this, one would still have to concede at least one thing—even if one were completely opposed to the content itself—namely, that the reasons why enlightened minds from a time relatively so recent to our own held fast to these ideas are not bad reasons, but rather dignified, good reasons. So that even if one personally rejects the reasons, one must say to oneself: These things had such an effect on enlightened minds in that era that one could see how these minds—quite apart from specific details—believed in the connection between what takes place in individual human lives and in the life of nations, and the events unfolding in the greater world, in the cosmos. These people believed in this connection between the macrocosm—the great world—and the microcosm—the small world.

[ 16 ] What, fundamentally, did they believe? They believed that human life on Earth, as it unfolds, is not merely a chaotic flow of events, but that there is a pattern to these events—that just as there is a cyclical pattern in celestial events, there is a certain cyclical regularity, a certain rhythm, at work in human and earthly conditions. To help us understand what is meant here, we should point out a few facts that, if one is willing to observe them, can truly become objects of experience just as much as the most rigorous facts of scientific chemistry or physics are today. One simply has to make observations in the relevant fields.

[ 17 ] Let us suppose we observe some particular fact that occurs in human life during childhood. Anyone who then views the human being in such a way as to take longer periods of time into account will uncover remarkable connections. A remarkable connection emerges between the very earliest stages of childhood and the latest stages of old age, so that we can perceive—albeit in reverse—a very clear connection between what a person experiences in the twilight of their life and what they went through in their youth. Then we will be able to say: If, for example, we experienced emotional turmoil during our youth due to particular states of anxiety, it may be that we were spared such experiences throughout our entire life, but in old age peculiar things may arise, and we can know that the cause of these lies in the states of anxiety of our very earliest childhood. Then there are also connections between young adulthood and the period leading up to old age. Life unfolds in a cyclical manner. We can go even further. Let us suppose, for example, that someone were to be torn away from the course of his life at the age of eighteen; he might have been able to study up to that point, but at eighteen he was torn away from his studies and had to become a businessman from then on—perhaps because his father lost his fortune, and so on. It might turn out that at first the person in question does not feel at all unhappy in his profession, but after a few years we see very specific difficulties arise in his life. If we wish to guide such a person wisely and help him overcome certain difficulties, we cannot apply just any general, abstract principles; rather, we must be clear that, since he was torn away from his life circumstances at the age of eighteen and is experiencing particular psychological difficulties at the age of twenty-four—meaning that the difficulties emerged six years later—we will find, six years earlier, that is, around the age of twelve, we will find certain processes in the soul life of this person that underlie the difficulties—processes that will thus truly explain to us what took place at the age of twenty-four: six years before, six years after—the change of profession lies in the middle. Just as with a pendulum that swings to the right and left, with the midpoint being the point of equilibrium, so in this case the eighteenth year is a pivotal point in relation to the swinging of life’s pendulum. What existed in life prior to that point unfolds in such a way that a cause laid down earlier produces its effect the same number of years after this pivotal point. So it is with the whole of human life.

[ 18 ] Human life does not unfold haphazardly, but rather in a certain way—regularly and according to certain laws. The individual does not need to know this. But in every human life there is a central point, and what precedes this central point—youth and childhood—leaves the causes, as it were, nestled within the succession of events; and what took place a certain number of years before this central point manifests itself in its effects just as many years after it. And just as death is the opposite point of birth, so the events of childhood are the cause of events that occur in the years preceding death. This is how one understands life.

[ 19 ] One can only truly understand life by tracing it back; for example, in the case of an illness that might arise at the age of fifty-four, one would look for a pivotal point—a “liver node”—where a person has weathered a particular crisis, count back from there, and find an event that relates to the fifty-fourth year as birth relates to death, that is, in a certain sense, its opposite. In a certain way, the events in human life are also arranged in such a way that they can be traced according to a law. This does not contradict our freedom. People’s greatest concern is usually that such a lawful sequence of events would contradict human arbitrariness, human freedom. But that is not the case; it can only appear so to an untrained mind. For example, someone who, at the age of fifteen, sows a seed in the bosom of time, the effect of which he experiences at the age of fifty-four, thereby forfeits no more of his freedom for that year than someone who builds a house that is to be completed the following year and then moves into it. Upon careful logical reflection, one cannot say that one is relinquishing one’s freedom when one moves into the house. Upon careful logical reflection, one cannot say that one is relinquishing one’s freedom when one sets in motion causes for future events. This has absolutely nothing to do with the freedom of life.

[ 20 ] Just as there are cyclical patterns in the life of the individual, so too do such patterns exist in the life of nations and, indeed, in life on Earth as a whole. As has already been mentioned in earlier lectures—and as will be demonstrated later—we divide the development of humanity on Earth, at least for our immediate cultural epoch, into successive cultural epochs and periods that directly affect us. There is a cultural period that we designate as the one in which Babylonian-Assyrian-Egyptian-Chaldean culture unfolded. Following that, we have the period we refer to as the Greek-Latin era, which encompasses all the events of Greek and Roman civilization, and then we have our own era, which we date from the decline of Greek and Roman civilization up to the present day, and which, as all signs of the times indicate, will continue for a long time to come. Thus, we have three successive cultural epochs.

[ 21 ] Anyone who takes a closer look at the life of nations during these three successive eras will realize that the Greco-Latin period served as something of a turning point in the history of human development. This explains the unique fascination of Greco-Roman culture. The nature of Greek art, the formation of Greek and Roman states, Roman law and the Roman art of statecraft, and the conception of the Roman citizen—these stand as a kind of equilibrium point amid the successive currents of human development. Then comes our own cultural epoch, preceded by the Egyptian-Chaldean one. In a remarkable way, anyone who observes these conditions deeply enough can perceive how very specific phenomena of the Egyptian-Chaldean period—albeit in a transformed form, yet still related to them—are replaying themselves today. Thus, the causes were laid in the bosom of time back then and are now emerging once more. And we then perceive it as a curious reminder that not only have certain practices—for example, in human hygiene, certain ablutions—appeared in ancient Egypt and are now reappearing, albeit in a different form, but that certain ways of approaching life are also emerging in such a way that one sees: what was laid as a cause in ancient Egypt appears today in its effects, but the Greco-Roman culture appears as a point of repose in between. And in turn, the Egyptian-Chaldean culture is preceded by the one we refer to as the proto-Persian culture. According to the law of cyclical development, one might say—as if in a premonition—that just as the Egyptian-Chaldean period repeats itself in our cultural cycle, so too will the proto-Persian period repeat itself in the cycle that will follow ours. There is always regularity in the course of human development! Not randomness, not chaos, but also not the kind of regularity that today’s historians often assume. They seek the causes of everything that happens today in the immediately preceding period, the causes of events in the recent past again in the immediately preceding period, and so on, constructing a chain of events where one always follows the other. But upon closer examination, this does not prove to be the case; rather, cycles and overlaps become apparent, such that something that existed before remains hidden for a time and reappears later, while something that existed even earlier appears even later, and so on. This can already be seen from an external observation of human development.

[ 22 ] But for those who were present at the last two lectures and who also explore the course of human development from a spiritual-scientific perspective, much more becomes apparent: namely, that there is indeed a profound spiritual law embedded within the flow of events, within the flow of becoming, and that at the moment when a person reaches a certain depth in their soul life—as has already been described—they also begin to perceive such deeper inner connections. And while it is true that nothing can be so easily misunderstood as that which belongs to this realm—that it can even easily border on charlatanism, perhaps even on deception and on that which panders to immoral human drives and instincts—it is nevertheless true that a person is capable of set aside the personal and to awaken the inner, hidden forces of spiritual life, so that he no longer develops only what he knows from his surroundings—what he recalls as his own life and that of his closest acquaintances—but rather becomes free from everything that constitutes his personal, sensory perception. When a person, as described in the first and second lectures, steps out of his personality in this way and becomes aware that there are even higher powers within him that need only to be developed through appropriate exercises—which have been characterized and will be characterized further— and when a person, through such exercises, brings these deeper forces to the surface, then whatever happens in a human life at any given time also becomes a revelation of deeper causes, and the person then senses that everything that occurs over the course of time, in one way or another, has repercussions into the future. This is the law that we also encounter through spiritual science: that everything that happens, even in the spiritual realm, does not vanish without a trace into the stream of existence, but rather has its effects, and that we must seek the law according to which these effects manifest in later times. Through this insight, we also come to realize that this life between birth and death contains the causes for the return of our individuality to Earth, so that the causes for the effects in a future life are revealed in the present life.

[ 23 ] Just as the understanding of the effects of karma is the result of insight—how causes lie within the bosom of time and reappear transformed as effects—and just as this law is the result of such understanding, so, fundamentally speaking, all those who took prophecy seriously or practiced it also possessed—as an insight, as a fundamental mood of their soul—the conviction that there are laws governing the course of human life, and that the soul can awaken the forces capable of penetrating these laws. But the soul first needs points of reference. The entire world, in its facts, is interconnected. Just as human beings are ultimately dependent on wind and weather in their physical lives, so must we at least assume—even if we lack clarity regarding the details—that everything surrounding us is interconnected in some way. And even if one does not seek natural laws in these interconnections in the sense of today’s natural laws, one can still glean something from what appears in the movement of the stars and in the constellations—something that can evoke within us the thought: Out there we see harmonies that can trigger similar harmonies and rhythms within us—rhythms according to which human life unfolds.

[ 24 ] Other considerations then lead to specific details. Let us first mention the following: If we examine human life closely—as can be read in the short treatise The Education of the Child from the Perspective of Spiritual Science—we can distinguish the following distinct phases: the first years of a person’s life up to the change of teeth, followed by the next few years up to sexual maturity, then the years up to the age of twenty-one, and then again those up to the age of twenty-eight—that is, seven-year periods in human life that show us they differ in their entire character, and that new kinds of abilities emerge as these phases unfold. If we are able to delve into this, it becomes quite clear to us that there is a rhythmic course in human life that can, in a certain way, be found reflected in the starry sky. It is remarkable that when one views life from this perspective—one need only observe it objectively and calmly, without the fanaticism of opposition—one finds that around the twenty-eighth year of life, something takes place for the soul that, in a certain sense, is indeed the case for many people, so that one can say: After four times seven years of life, something important has come to a conclusion. —Four times seven years, twenty-eight or so, though not exactly—that is also the time Saturn takes to complete its orbit. During this time, it traverses a circle consisting of four parts—that is, it passes through the entire circle, traversing the signs of the zodiac—and its course then corresponds, in a certain sense, quite vividly to the course of human life from birth to the age of twenty-eight. And one can further subdivide this by dividing these twenty-eight years into periods, each lasting seven years, just as the circle is divided into four parts. Here one sees how, in fact, the orbit of a star in the vast expanse of the universe contains something that manifests itself in a similar way in human life.

[ 25 ] In a very similar way, the rhythmic aspects of human life can be illustrated by other phenomena occurring in the heavens. Once the teachings of the Berlin physician Fließ—which are little noticed today, yet extraordinarily insightful, though still very much in their infancy—regarding the wondrous sequence of birth and death are studied and further developed, it will become clear just how rhythmic births and deaths are in human life. But all of this is still only at the beginning of scientific investigation. When one relates the course of the stars to human life, one will then come to realize that one needs nothing more than to view the course of the stars as a celestial clock, and human life as a rhythm that unfolds on its own, yet is nevertheless determinable in a certain sense by the stars. One can form an idea of how, even without seeking causes in the stars in a scientific sense, one can nevertheless conceive that human life unfolds in a similar rhythm through an inner kinship. For example, if we have often stepped outside our door in the morning or looked out the window and then, at the same time every day, seen a person walking by whom we know is on his way to work or something similar, we look at the clock and know that every day at that specific time, that person walks past us. Is it unreasonable, then, to glance at the clock when we know this and say: “When the hands of the clock are in this position, we can expect that person to walk by”? Are the hands of the clock the cause of this; do they determine the person who walks by? The causes lie elsewhere entirely, but based on this specific rhythm, one can assume that at this specific time, the person in question will be passing by outside. Thus, there is no need to search the stars for the causes. In this way, one can see in the stars a cosmic clock that sets the rhythm according to which human and national life also unfolds.

[ 26 ] Here lie matters that even today provide important perspectives for contemplating life, and spiritual science—because it can proceed with much deeper methods—must point out these deeper connections. Now we will also come to understand why Tycho Brahe, Kepler, and others proceeded, so to speak, as calculators—Kepler most of all, Tycho Brahe to a lesser extent. For anyone who immerses themselves in the peculiar inner life of Tycho Brahe will find that it was not all that far removed from the inner life of Nostradamus. But with Nostradamus, we see clearly that he does not need to calculate; rather, he sits in his open-roofed chamber and allows the starry expanse to work its magic upon him. He attributes his ability to do this to particularly favorable genetic predispositions inherent in his organism, which presents him with no obstacles. But then he needs something else as well, as he says: a calm, serene soul that shuts out everything that would otherwise surround him in life—that removes all thoughts and movements, above all all the worries, agitations, and sorrows of ordinary life, as well as all memories of daily life. Pure and free, the soul must face the stars. Then, in the soul—in Nostradamus’s mind—one can see it very clearly in the mind’s eye, in images, what he proclaims. He sees it as if in images, in scenes before him. And if he were to speak in astronomical terms, and predict a person’s fate, saying, for example, that Saturn is harmful or that Mars is harmful, he would not, when making such predictions, be thinking directly of the physical Saturn or the physical Mars out there; rather, he would think: This man has a warlike character, a warlike temperament, but at the same time something that is melancholy, which can expose him to certain gloomy moods that can penetrate right into his physical being. — That is what he sees. He allows these elements to interact in his mind, and from this an image emerges for the future events of the person in question; there the person’s tendency toward melancholy and his warlike disposition interact: Saturn and Mars. These are merely symbols. When he mentions Saturn and Mars, he means to say that there is something within the person that drives him toward what presents itself to him as a scene or an image—something that can be compared to the opposition or conjunction of Mars and Saturn in the sky. But this is merely a means of expression, merely a symbol for what he intends to convey. For Nostradamus, contemplating the harmony of the stars triggers the state of mind associated with his prophetic gift, which enables him to see deeper into souls than is otherwise possible.

[ 27 ] This means, then, that we see in him a person who, through a particular way of behaving, can awaken the inner powers of the human soul that otherwise lie hidden within a person. That is why it is a mood of devotion, of reverence for the divine, that he evokes within himself when worries and sorrows come to a complete standstill, and the soul’s inclination toward the external world has also vanished. He has then completely forgotten himself, is no longer aware of his own self, and can then say that in such moments what has always been his motto is fulfilled in his soul: “It is God who speaks here through my mouth.” If what I am able to say is something that touches you, O human being, then accept it as having been spoken to you by the grace of your Deity! — This reverence is essential! Otherwise, the gift of vision is not genuine. But this state of mind ensures from the outset that the one who possesses it will not abuse this gift of vision in an immoral or in any ignoble sense.

[ 28 ] In Tycho de Brahe, we see a kind of transition between the character of Nostradamus and that of Kepler. When one studies Tycho Brahe’s soul, he strikes one as someone who, from a past life, recalls views he once held—much like the way prophetic practices were carried out in Greece. There is something in him akin to the soul of an ancient Greek who seeks to see cosmic harmony everywhere. This becomes his disposition. And for him, this mood is as if astronomical calculation were merely a crutch, indicating that he finds within his soul the forces that allow images—arising from past causes—of future or past events to well up within him. Kepler, on the other hand, is already a mathematical mind, a more scientifically abstract mind in the same sense that the minds of our present day are so to an even greater degree. He is therefore already more or less reliant on mere calculation, which of course is accurate as well, because—according to experiences gained through clairvoyance—the celestial constellations are attuned to human life. And astrology became more and more a matter of mere calculation. The gift of clairvoyance, as Nostradamus still possessed it, was lost more and more. We will see this transition in the lecture “From Paracelsus to Goethe.” — The gift of clairvoyance gave way to abstract knowledge, to purely intellectual, astrological prophecy, and we can say: When the gift of clairvoyance was nothing more than astrological prophecy, it was already conceived intellectually, through reason.

[ 29 ] The further back we go, the more we will find that what the ancient prophets had to say about the lives of their peoples sprang from the depths of their souls. This was the case with the Jewish prophets: through their direct connection with their God—and because they had freed themselves from their own personalities and personal concerns—they were wholly devoted to the great events of their people and were also able to look ahead to what lay in store for them. Just as today an educator who can foresee that certain traits are emerging in a child—traits that are bound to reappear in later life—can take this into account, so the Jewish prophet perceives the soul of his people as a whole; and whatever existed as causes in times past was imprinted upon his soul and worked in such a way that he perceives the effects as if in a magnificent premonition. But what significance does this have for human life, and what is the meaning of this prophecy?

[ 30 ] We arrive at this conclusion when we realize that there are great personalities to whom we will always trace the historical flow of events. Even though people always prefer to level the playing field—because it is uncomfortable when one individual stands out above the rest, since today people demand equality in all abilities and seek to deny that certain individuals possess greater strength than others—there are nonetheless such great, more advanced leaders in the historical unfolding and development of humanity. There are two kinds of leaders in the history of human development. Today, things have already reached the point where the greatest event in human development—or indeed, the greatest events in general—are viewed as if they did not stem from a particular individual, but rather as if they arose of their own accord from ideas. Thus, there is a theological school of thought today that still calls itself Christian, but which asserts that there was no need for Christ Jesus to have existed as an individual human being. Indeed, one of these theologians even said, when it was pointed out to him that world history is, after all, made by human beings—which is as self-evident as the fact that a forest consists of trees—that this was irrelevant; rather, just as trees make up the forest, so do human beings make up world history. No one stands out. But does a statement like “The forest consists of trees” really correspond to what we see in history? One can only marvel at how little logic is expressed in this, for the person in question need only consider that the forest, as it exists, is attributable to the actions of one person or many people. The question must arise as to whether the forest might not have come into being in such a way that one or two seeds were planted, and that the entire forest could have descended from them. Certainly, the forest consists of trees; but one must first investigate whether it might not have originated from one or two seeds that were planted. Similarly, in the history of humanity, one must investigate whether the events of human development might not be traceable to this or that individual who inspired the rest.

[ 31 ] Anyone who views world history in this way will conclude that the people who guide the course of human development possess surplus energy. Whether they use this energy for good or for ill is another matter. People exert an influence on their surroundings through these surplus forces. Surplus forces that a person does not need for their own personality can either be expressed through actions, or they have no immediate practical application. In people of action, we see how the forces a person carries within themselves are directly expressed through their actions. However, there are people who are not predisposed to channel the forces they possess into actions, or, when they do attempt to do so, an obstacle always arises. Here we have the particularly interesting case of Nostradamus. He was a physician, he was Jewish, he had a healing influence through his work, and he did good for many people. But people often cannot stand it when someone does good. Thus, he attracted envious people and was accused of being a Calvinist. Well, being Jewish and a Calvinist were two incompatible things back then, and so it came to pass that he was forced to withdraw from the wide-ranging, dedicated work he had developed as a physician and to give up his profession. But were the powers he had applied in this exciting work no longer within him when he withdrew? Those same powers were still within him. In physics, one believes in the conservation of energy. Let us simply apply this in a healthy way to the powers of the soul. In Nostradamus’s case, when he ceased his work, his powers took a different path. But if he had remained a physician, those forces would not have had any other effect on the future. Or is it not an effect on the future when one heals a person who might otherwise have died? Does one not thereby continue one’s activity into the future as events unfold? For where is the end to the deeds one accomplishes? The stream of action continues. If, like Nostradamus, we withdraw from an activity, the stream of deeds is suddenly interrupted. It is no longer there. But the forces remain. And the forces that remain in the soul transform themselves, so that what might otherwise have manifested as the most distant effects of his deeds in the future now manifests as the gift of prophecy and appears before him in vision. We see his deeds transformed. And it is no different with other prophetic natures of all times, nor with the ancient Jewish prophets. The ancient Hebrew prophets were men—as biblical history shows—intimately connected with all the forces alive in the soul of their people, with what flowed in the stream of time from the past into the future; they were not attached to their own souls, nor to the personal. Nor were they the sort of people who expressed themselves through deeds, but rather those who possessed surplus powers within themselves, which manifested from the outset in the same way as Nostradamus’s powers did after their transformation. Thus, what would otherwise have been expressed through deeds manifested to them in powerful dream images. The gift of prophecy is directly linked to the drive for action; it merely appears as a metamorphosis of the drive for action stemming from the surplus forces within the soul.

[ 32 ] Thus, the gift of clairvoyance is by no means incomprehensible; rather, it can be fully integrated into the logical mode of thinking characteristic of our natural sciences themselves. From this, however, we also see that it is precisely such a gift of clairvoyance that leads us beyond the immediate present. And how can anything that is meant to have an effect beyond the immediate present actually do so? Only those who have ideals can have an effect beyond the immediate present. But ideals are, at first, something abstract. We set them before ourselves and believe that they might truly correspond to our present reality. But whoever wishes to act from the supersensible world and to accomplish what acts upon them from the supersensible world does not take abstract ideals; rather, they seek to penetrate the causes that lie in the bosom of time and ask themselves: How do these causes play out in time? — And they do not allow this to act upon the intellect, but upon their gift of clairvoyance. A true understanding of the past—provided it is not approached intellectually but is rooted in the deeper powers of the soul—always causes images of the future to emerge in the soul that are more or less accurate. So it is today as well: for those who properly exercise the gift of clairvoyance by immersing themselves in the course of humanity’s development in ancient times, an image arises that stands as a concrete ideal and appears in such a way that one might say: We are living in a time in which humanity stands at a crossroads; certain forces that until now were only dimly present in the soul are coming to the fore more and more. And in a future that is certainly not far off, just as reason, intellect, and imagination exist for human beings today, something else will be present in the soul—something like a new soul force through which the urge to perceive the supersensible world will assert itself. One sees something like a new sense approaching the soul.

[ 33 ] But even today we can already see this new spiritual power emerging. When such inspiration, arising from what happened in the past, affects us and images emerge of what must happen in the future, then we are not driven by the impulses of a fanatic, but rather by impulses that arise from reality itself and tell us why we do this or that in relation to the spiritual development of the present. This is, in essence, the meaning of all prophecy. It shows how the meaning of prophecy can be attained even when the images a seer conjures up of the future are not entirely accurate. Precisely those who are able to observe the hidden powers of the human soul know that images of what is to happen in the future may well be entirely incorrect, but they also know why the images are or can be ambiguous, so that nothing particularly specific is stated regarding what has happened when it is said: “He predicted this or that, but it is flexible; it is ambiguous!” — Such images can be ambiguous. What matters, however, is that such impulses exist within the human being that relate to the whole of what lies ahead in the future and act upon what is present within the human being, so that through such impulses, dormant powers within the human being are awakened. Whether these images—these prophecies—are more or less accurate is one thing; but the forces within a person, the impulses that are awakened, must be entirely accurate—that is what matters!

[ 34 ] Thus, the purpose of prophecy lies less in satisfying curiosity through predictions about the future than in reinforcing the awareness that human beings can indeed be certain of the effects of causes extending into the future. There may well be downsides and the like, but it is essential to recognize that the positive aspects of prophecy also exist, and that they give meaning to human life—that one can know that human life is present even on a grand scale, that human beings do not live blindly from day to day, nor blindly into a distant future, but rather that they can set their own goals and find their own inspiration in the light of knowledge. Goethe, who said so many wonderful things about the workings of the world, was right when he wrote the words:

[ 35 ] Whoever knew the past would know the future; both merge seamlessly with today, as a completed whole.

[ 36 ] He says this in a beautiful saying from the “Prophecies of Baki.”

[ 37 ] Thus, we see that, fundamentally, the meaning of prophecy lies not so much in what satisfies curiosity or the thirst for knowledge, but rather in the impulses it can give us for action directed toward the future. And it is only because intellectual knowledge—the kind that does not kindle the impulses of the will—is overestimated in our time that people are unwilling to form an objective judgment even about prophecy. But spiritual science will lead us to recognize: Yes, there were many dark sides to both the old and the new forms of prophecy, but at the heart of this prophecy—in the striving, in the awareness of receiving a hint about the course of the future—lies an important core that is not intended for knowledge or curiosity, but is vital as a fire for our will. And even those who wish to judge everything that takes place within human beings solely on the basis of whether it can be understood soberly and rationally must, from such an insight into world conditions, recognize how prophecy arises from a branch of knowledge whose goal is to inspire the development of the will. And now that we have set forth what can be said in defense against all hostility toward prophecy, and have agreed on what constitutes the core and meaning of prophecy, it can be said with some justification: In this realm lie hidden many of those things of which academic wisdom cannot even dream.

[ 38 ] This is true. But precisely in light of such an insight, many facts will also come to light that prove the other saying: that intellectual insights, no matter how correct they may be, are at times practically worthless because they cannot generate impulses of the will. Just as it is true that there are many things that conventional wisdom cannot even imagine, so it is also true, on the other hand, that much of what emerges in the realm of expanding scientific research—intellectual research—cannot be found among the things in heaven and on earth. These insights vanish into thin air and lead nowhere unless they progress from what constitutes knowledge in human life to that which was not only in the beginning but is also the most important and significant thing in the present and the future: human activity, human action!