The Rudolf Steiner Archive

53. Human Character

[ 1 ] The last lectures in this series were devoted to a consideration of the human soul. And it will have become clear to those in the audience who have followed the last three lectures what inner justification there is for not viewing the human soul as an indefinite entity whose qualities are all jumbled together, but rather for tracing it in the most meticulous way through its individual structures. For those who may be here for the first time today, it suffices to point out that, in the sense of spiritual science, this human soul is distinguished into what we call the sentient soul—the lowest, so to speak, of the members of the human soul, which is still closely connected to what we call the physical members of the human being. Next, within this soul, we must distinguish the intellectual or emotional soul, which already stands out as an independent entity, setting itself apart from the sensory soul and bodily life; and finally, there is also … the conscious soul.

[ 2 ] We have pointed out that what is generally regarded today in every science as “development” appears to us, in a higher sense, as the self-development of the human being within this life of the soul. [The] human being [is] in the process of development and, at the lowest stage, is such that what we call the feeling soul comes to the fore. As development progresses, the intellectual or emotional soul comes to the fore. Then the human being can, in a certain sense, find themselves within themselves and illuminate themselves with the light of thinking, understanding, and knowledge. Then we speak of the conscious soul. [We have] not merely talked about these soul components, but have highlighted the qualities that take on very specific forms when this self-development of the human being [is taken seriously].

[ 3 ] In particular, attention was drawn to one of the emotions—anger—[and] it was shown how overcoming such an emotion leads to self-development. The human sense of truth [as the educator of the emotional or intellectual soul] was further explored, [and] how what we described yesterday as devotion in the true sense of the word serves as a special impulse for the development of the conscious soul. Since we asked ourselves what it is within the human being that actually guides and directs development, we came upon that which we had to say can essentially manifest itself in two ways: We came upon the “I” that pulses through and interweaves the entire soul. It is that which works upon the soul. It must reveal itself in two ways: on the one hand, strong, vigorous, and rich in content—abundant in thoughts, feelings, and impulses of will—which itself must continually expand [as a being]; through this, we have shown how the sense of self grows ever more. Furthermore, on the other hand, this “I,” by expressing selfhood in a particular way, can degenerate into selfishness and egotism. ... Thus, in a certain sense, the “I” has become the center of soul life.

[ 4 ] Today it falls to us to listen even more closely to the work of this “I” within the soul. We have seen what this “I” means for the individual parts of the soul when we consider each one in isolation. But it is also called upon to bring about order and harmony in the life of the soul, ... to interweave the individual members of the soul—the feeling soul, the intellectual soul, and the conscious soul—in a corresponding manner, so that one may enrich the other, allowing the feeling soul to influence the intellectual soul, and the intellectual soul in turn to influence the conscious soul, and so on.

[ 5 ] If the human “I” is unable to relate these individual soul elements to one another and to establish order, harmony, and so on, then the individual soul elements fall apart. The “I” must assert itself powerfully through all the individual soul elements and allow each one to interplay with the others in an appropriate manner.

[ 6 ] You can imagine that, by allowing the individual elements of the soul to interact, the “I” plays just as a musician plays an instrument—even if, at first, we can perceive only three of its strings. But the “I” plays very special harmonies and melodies on the three strings of the soul’s life: depending on whether it strikes one string or another more strongly, strikes them simultaneously with another, and so on, a very special music of the soul arises within the human being. This is how the human soul life expresses itself—through the way this “I” plays on the three strings of the soul’s life.

[ 7 ] What is this expression of the “I” playing on the three strings of the soul’s life? — The result is nothing other than human character. Only those who do not question how this “I” plays and works in bringing the various components of the soul into harmony can understand what is meant by the [phenomenon of human character], which is so often enigmatic and yet confronts us at every turn in life. Indeed, when the individual faculties of the human soul—the individual activities—fall apart, when the “I” does not exercise unified control, the human being appears to us as fragmented. This is the most fundamental aspect of character life: the soul’s activities operate one way in one instance and differently in another. Thus, in life, the patriot and the private individual may diverge. Then we speak of a character lacking unity, meaning that the “I” does not distribute its influence evenly among the various parts [of the soul].

[ 8 ] This occasional inability to achieve harmony between the various activities of the human soul has always been, for the artist, a kind of material for poetry or other artistic expression. Think of Shakespeare’s *Hamlet*; there is an activity of the soul that the ego cannot reconcile with action. Goethe had already expressed this dichotomy of the soul’s life in *Hamlet* when he said: “A great task has been placed upon a soul that is not up to it.”

[ 9 ] All possible situations in works of art arise from such a discord in the playing of the ego on the instrument of the soul. All comic and dramatic situations can be traced back to this.

[ 10 ] However, we must examine the human soul life more closely if we are to fully substantiate what I have said in general terms. The human “I” works its way upward from the sensory soul into the conscious soul, and only in this way can it grasp itself. Through this process, it can manifest itself vividly in each of these members. It can still express itself in such a way that it manifests in the drives and desires of the sensory soul; it can find expression in a purified form within the intellectual soul; and it can, further imbued with knowledge of the world and human thoughts about things, express itself in the conscious soul—and in each case we will find that we are confronted with a very particular form of what we call character.

[ 11 ] Thus we see how the “I” can live fully within the consciousness soul. When it emphasizes this life within the consciousness soul, it is active in the innermost aspect of human soul life, which can conceal within itself its impulses from the external world. When it emphasizes its work in the consciousness soul, what arises is what we call the hidden, closed-off character. We cannot get through to such a person because the consciousness soul withdraws from the outside world. We may therefore feel separated from a person as if by a partition. Their “I” is locked within the consciousness soul.

[ 12 ] Furthermore, the “I” can act and express itself through what we call the intellectual or emotional soul. This gives rise to the imaginative character, which holds the balance between the other two. Thus, the “I” provides what might be called the equilibrium of the soul’s powers. Such people, who engage their “I” within the intellectual soul, are those who are mindful of allowing themselves to be stimulated by the external world, but also mindful of processing these impressions in the service of their own self, cultivating themselves more and more through the impressions of the external world—[through] what is heard, seen, and known from it.

[ 13 ] If one wishes to have an educational influence, one must understand how the “I” acts within the intellectual or emotional soul. If such a disposition is present in a person, one must ensure that one acts appropriately in one direction or the other. These are the most malleable people, easily influenced by what they encounter in their environment, and [they] use it for the purpose of their own self-improvement.

[ 14 ] But when the “I” expresses itself fully in the sensorial soul, it acts in such a way that it readily turns outward what is within the sensorial soul—its drives and so on. As soon as the ego begins to be active in the sensory soul, the will to act outwardly arises. We have before us people who tend toward an active character, who are always ready to do this or that. When taken to the extreme, they become the busy people.

[ 15 ] Thus we see how a person expresses themselves when the “I” strikes one chord or another. We can also say that a person’s “I” initially functions in such a way that it rests, as it were, hidden within the sensory soul—namely, in young people or [at] a lower level of cultural development. There, the “I” is enclosed within the sensory soul; it does not yet have the opportunity to ascend into the intellectual soul [and reveal its activities], just as it expresses itself, in a certain sense, unconsciously within the sensory soul. In this case, we might speak of a character that is at a lower level, one that gives expression to base instincts and desires.

[ 16 ] This differs from the character in which the “I” has already ascended into the consciousness soul, but which nevertheless then manifests itself in the feeling soul. Then the “I” carries what it has learned within the [consciousness soul into the feeling soul]; then it follows its instincts and desires, but with what it has learned through the conscious soul. And because it follows them in this way, such a person appears in life in such a way that we say: “Oh, he’s just following his instincts and desires, but in a clever, sophisticated manner.” His character is at once permeated by a base disposition [and by shrewd deliberation. It gives the] character a higher meaning when a person rises as high in spirit as they do through knowledge.

[ 17 ] [We must] understand this wonderful phenomenon of human character as a kind of inner music of the soul, a performance by the “I” on the various strings of human soul life. Now, it plays not only with the soul’s parts in general, but with everything that exists within these individual parts of the human soul. We see, for example, a soul quality such as anger as an affect of the feeling soul. When the “I” is underdeveloped, not having ascended into the higher regions of soul life, it surrenders to anger; then we find [such an] outburst of anger that shows us how an “I” unaware of itself storms out into the world. It has no control over itself—because it has remained undeveloped in a certain respect—... it cannot control itself when overcome by anger.

[ 18 ] [Imagine] a teacher facing a student: [The] student [has] noticed something wrong with a classmate and, in a fit of anger, hits the classmate with a book. The teacher may be someone who has developed the intellectual soul and the conscious soul, yet in that moment, anger can overwhelm even him to the same extent that a young lad might become enraged. Then the teacher lands a few blows on the boy, left and right. When a surge of anger arises, [only a person with great self-control] can suppress it.

[ 19 ] The ego’s retention within the sensory soul manifests itself as rage. This is the extreme form of anger, when the ego almost sinks into anger and the soul’s state becomes akin to a state of powerlessness. Then rage arises. The ego cannot triumph over anger. If it does triumph, then anger—by being defeated—becomes, in the proper sense, a teacher, albeit indirectly through the ego itself, provided the ego does not allow itself to be overwhelmed by the emotion but instead exercises self-control. In the feeling soul, the ego must accomplish in its own formation what we call education in self-control. On the one hand, there is rage that erupts blindly; on the other, there is self-control, [which] is achieved through noble self-discipline.

[ 20 ] Let us now consider the “I” that resides in the intellectual or emotional soul. It is through this “I” that the mission of the sense of truth is revealed. It consists in the fact that human beings have something in the truth that they are permitted to nurture—because when they devote themselves to the truth, they are nurturing something—which they are permitted to nurture within themselves. [He can] process the truth only within himself, [in order] to unfold the highest power of the “I” in inner life. At the same time, however, it unites us with all of humanity [and] with the world. We see in the cultivation of truth something through which the “I” can develop selfhood and self-strength, and thereby, at the same time, selflessness.

[ 21 ] But one string or another may be struck incorrectly. It can happen, after all, that the ego makes a mistake of a certain kind, or that where it should act strongly, it acts weakly. When it makes a mistake within the intellectual soul, this gives rise to what shows that even the noblest thing in human life can be distorted, can become a caricature, if the ego loses itself in what it has recognized as truth.

[ 22 ] When the ego is lost in the truth, [the following] may occur: Because human beings are incapable of mastering the full scope of truth in all its aspects—and can master only a part of it—when the ego loses itself in that part, it may forget itself and rage blindly within its limited sphere of truth. Then it becomes a fanatic, and we encounter what is known in life as the fanatical character.

[ 23 ] This has its opposite when the ego, with true strength, not only surrenders itself to the truth but also looks within itself in the right way and becomes aware that human beings can also err. If the ego does not lose itself in the truth, but always observes itself in both reason and emotion, then fanaticism cannot arise.

[ 24 ] As the self increasingly engages in this self-examination of the qualities of the intellect and the emotions, it attains what is known in characterology as a healthy sense of self or healthy self-awareness, combined with proper self-criticism, [which] maintains a balance between recognized truths and the possibility of error on the other hand.

[ 25 ] Then … to that which contributes most to the soul’s ascent into the conscious soul: devotion. Here, too, the ego can strike the right or the wrong chord. It can lose itself in devotion, surrender itself to the Other and the Unknown. Then we are dealing with the ego that loses itself, with the false sanctity of the human being, which amounts to a kind of self-destruction. But when the ego resonates with this quality of the consciousness soul in the right way, when it actively engages its self in devotion, we arrive at what can be called justified self-respect and self-knowledge.

[ 26 ] Thus we see how the “I” expresses itself in a wide variety of ways. It is the unifier of the individual aspects of human soul life. And the fact that a person does not fall apart into pieces is brought about by the character-forming activity of the “I” on the individual aspects of the soul, as just described. But if the “I” does not maintain control over the individual aspects of the soul, then what happens is that the human being appears to us as fragmented, that the “I” sinks down and can no longer be seen: a lack of character, surrender to the demons of one’s own soul, torn between drives and feelings; thoughts that lead to despair, devotion on the other hand, and so on.

[ 27 ] [I have] already referred to the loss of control over the individual parts in an example from art, where the ego has sunk into a state of self-loss. This work of art is the famous Laocoön: a priest standing with his two sons, entwined by snakes. Many people have sought to make sense of this work of art. ... All of this is expressed in a marvelous way; one must ... understand it correctly. /Major gaps; presumably a description of the “Laocoön.”] Even those who have devoted themselves to this work of art with dedication have made many erroneous statements in their interpretation of it. Winckelmann, who became the teacher of Lessing and Goethe in the appreciation of art, viewed the Laocoön in such a way that he said it was particularly beautiful that here

[ 28 ] the highest ennoblement of pain takes place. He sees the soul in all its majesty in Laocoön, who, in the moment before death, summons all his inner strength; and in the face—specifically in the eyes—one can see how the soul’s inner forces here gaze upward toward the highest. The father’s eyes, expressing compassion, show that his sympathy for his sons triumphs over pain.

[ 29 ] This description falls short of capturing the work of art as a whole. Even a cast reveals this. If one were to judge the eye in this way, the attempt would fail because the eye is directed upward, and Laocoön does not see any of his sons. [Compassion for his sons] is not visible, since Winckelmann has projected it onto the sculpture. Yet this group is illuminated by the light of understanding when one sees what is there and is clear about it: This Laocoön, with his drawn-in abdomen, his protruding chest, his upward-turned, veiled eyes, his tousled hair—when we see all of this, it becomes clear to us that the human effect is no longer overwhelmed by self-consciousness; rather, we stand before the moment when this self-consciousness has vanished. The “I” has just withdrawn, and at this very moment he is no longer subject to the influence of the “I,” which would otherwise hold the reins tight regarding the expressions of the soul’s life. Individual limbs go their own ways. Nature... [The pain] draws the lower abdomen inward, the upper abdomen protrudes, other limbs go their own ways; everything is torn apart. Through the disembodiment that has just occurred, what a human being is becomes apparent when the “I” is truly suppressed and the individual, vigorous limbs, in a final spasm, go their own ways.

[ 30 ] When we are faced with such a work of art, it serves as a negative symbol of what the “I” must be like in order to bring about this interplay of the individual components of the soul. By viewing human character in this way, we can gain much in terms of our understanding of life, but also many insights that the educator needs if he wishes to gradually develop human character. We will understand life when we ask ourselves: What, then, is the distinctive nature of human character itself?

[ 31 ] When we consider the nature of animals, we can say: An animal is born with a fully formed character, which persists throughout its entire life. What is true at the beginning is also true at the end: a distinctly pronounced generic or species-specific character. If one characterizes a hyena, one has characterized them all. Why is this [so]? It is because, in a certain sense, the animal has no history and does not incorporate the element of time into its life. The experiences of youth cannot become part of what is learned and carried over into later stages of development.

[ 32 ] Human beings incorporate into their soul life what we call time. The “I” gradually develops the hidden seed, bringing the soul’s characteristics up from the feeling soul, through the intellectual soul, and into the conscious soul. Thus, in terms of character, the child presents itself to us differently than a young animal. From the very beginning, the young animal engages in the activities that are inherent to its species. In a certain sense, the human being enters the world without character. The individual forms—even those rooted in the human constitution, even what the human being acquires through the influence of others—and everything that occurs in later life must be acquired through time.

[ 33 ] First of all, a person can be defined in terms of their character. We can work on developing this within them, [but we cannot] use a word that describes the child in terms of character; the child does not yet have a character. Although the child behaves differently from other children in individual activities, it still has no character, but rather an individuality. The “I” has simply not yet taken the development of the self into its own hands. It is still pressed down into the feeling soul, still contained in the most hidden depths. As long as it has not yet developed into activity—into inner play on the strings of the soul’s instrument—it remains merely an individuality, not a character. Only then does the predisposition toward character begin to emerge, when the “I” starts to become aware of itself, albeit initially in a vague way. Then, in the course of life, this self-education through the “I” takes place to an ever-greater extent.

[ 34 ] However, one can only educate a person properly if one considers: Is it the “I” that is inclined to delve into the sensory soul, or [one] that seeks to express the qualities of, in particular, the intellectual soul or the conscious soul? Here, one must exercise discernment to ensure that the various activities of the “I” are stimulated in the right way. If one observes that the child is predisposed to lose itself in individual activities—that is, if it tends toward selflessness in a negative sense—then it is advisable to begin as early as possible to teach this child the concepts of human dignity and human significance. One will fail in one’s educational efforts if one stirs up the child’s egoism here or appeals to the child’s own egoism. One will succeed in one’s educational efforts if one teaches the child general concepts of what a human being is and what a human being means in the world.

[ 35 ] If the sense of life is strongly developed in the emotional soul, it can indeed overflow and become lost in what is worthless. In this case, when it threatens to lose itself to what is worthless, one must ensure that such a maturing person develops correct concepts of the world, of things, and of beings, so that they can properly weigh them against one another. One must ensure that they learn to properly value things.

[ 36 ] As educators, we must therefore do what is necessary to redirect the work of the ego toward the neglected side. With regard to character, we have to perform a balancing, harmonizing task—but first, we must [gain an understanding] of the unique interplay of the ego with the various parts of the soul.

[ 37 ] Thus we see how justified it was to coin the word “character,” which literally means “imprint.” The entire life of the soul receives a specific imprint and shaping through this “I.” How a person then influences life themselves is best revealed when we understand how the “I” acts within the individual parts of the soul and how these parts interact.

[ 38 ] Now there is something else that deserves special attention. I have said that the “I” educates the soul all the way up to the soul of consciousness. Is this education now complete? It is not yet complete. Only then does what is important for character development in human life begin. Only then does the consciousness soul become accessible to what can reach into the human soul from a higher world. What can reach into it—first into the consciousness soul?

[ 39 ] Of particular importance with regard to character are the moral concepts and ideas that we do not find in external life. There we find drives and instincts in which an “I” operates that is hidden within the blind. We cannot derive our [rational insights], ideals, and moral judgments from life itself. We must first bring these into life. The human soul must receive them like an inspiration from another world and try to bring them into life—but not without effort.

[ 40 ] In the human soul, the moral imperative shines forth, as do the great ideals through which we can advance life—what life does not yet possess and what humanity must first bring into it. There, the “I” grasps this light from another world through moral concepts and ideals. They first flow into the conscious soul; the “I” grasps them. Previously, development took place from the bottom up; now, once the “I” has acquired these moral judgments and ideals, it carries them back down into the intellectual soul, transforming the moral thought into moral feeling. Moral feeling is to the emotional soul what [moral concepts] were to the conscious soul. When such a moral concept is brought down into the emotional soul, we are moved by a moral act. Then we feel sympathy for what is happening around us. More and more, moral judgments and thoughts make their way down and become feelings. We are inspired by what arises from lofty moral ideals. Because the “I” carries moral judgments and ideals down from the soul of consciousness, we are moved to be inspired by what is good and to feel sympathy for what is noble and great.

[ 41 ] But the ego must also carry these ideals down into the sensory soul. There, the moral ideals also work upon our drives, instincts, and passions, transforming them into something entirely different. Gradually, the moral ideal pours into this life of drives; the drive now acts as a force, and the moral ideal gains the power to realize itself. The drive has abandoned its instinctual nature, and whatever is within it as a force becomes the bearer of moral judgment and ideal. Thus, in life, we become people of action who do not merely give free rein to drives and passions, but who carry the light of moral ideals down into the world, so that within them there is no contradiction between what they experience as passions and what shines forth as moral judgments and ideals. In this way, the “I” carries down into the lower regions of soul life what it has gained above. In this way, it warms the soul with what has been gained in the consciousness soul.

[ 42 ] As the “I” evolves upward into the conscious soul, the human being develops character. By carrying this character back down into the lower members of the being, the human being develops a moral character. This process of carrying what has been gained upward and then bringing it back down again... this is how we understand what character is, what a moral character is.

[ 43 ] This [work of the “I” on the soul’s members] shapes the human being to such an extent that it finds expression [in physicality]. Just as the soul expresses itself in outer physicality in general, so too does this work of the “I” on the soul’s members find expression in outer physicality. We can trace this down to the finest details and are struck by how the “I” manifests itself in the human being’s outer physical form. There we see how the “I” works within the conscious soul. When this activity expresses itself outwardly, it does so in what, in the external realm, belongs to the highest human activity. What elevates the human being above the animal is the free mobility of his limbs and the subordination of his limbs to the sensations and concepts of his soul life.

[ 44 ] A form of movement that [in particular] expresses the inner life of the soul is facial expression [and gestures]. We see how the [activity] of the soul in particular finds external expression in facial expressions [and gestures]. Those who are able to interpret a person’s facial expressions and gestures correctly can see how the entire interplay of the “I” across the various aspects of the soul is revealed in external gestures. For example, when the “I” is active in the conscious soul but has drawn up into it what actually belongs to the sensory soul, and allows this to play out in the conscious soul, this expresses what one might describe as follows: The person lives in their sensations, brings them into consciousness, and expresses them. Externally, this is expressed by the person patting their lower abdomen in a most contented manner, for example, after a meal.

[ 45 ] Suppose that what stirs particularly within the emotional soul—and through which the “I” is stimulated by the emotional soul—is especially developed and finds external expression in a gesture: The person then places a hand over their heart. In this way, they ascend through their own body, as their “I” ascends and as this “I” operates in ever higher members. If the “I” expresses itself in such a way that it expresses only the conscious soul and [the] other parts—only the conscious soul, where thoughts and knowledge dominate, where human discernment finds expression—when a person thinks intently about something and does so in a way that seeks to analyze it—then they place their finger on their nose, as it were, to divide their face into two parts. What is being worked out in the conscious soul becomes evident. Character is reflected in outward gestures such as scratching behind the ear or touching one’s head when one cannot think of something.

[ 46 ] The entire range of facial expressions reflects both the outward ascent and the ascent within the inner life. When a person makes a judgment and wishes to deny something, this can be expressed in that person’s conscious soul by the fact that he judges calmly. A negation expressed without emotion is then simply a movement of the head to the left and right. But when a person negates with the will, he throws his head back.

[ 47 ] It is particularly interesting to study the outward gestures of different nations. Here, one might recognize the play of the “I” if one were to ask: How does one nation or another express negation? — and so on. Here we see how character is expressed and takes shape through the play of facial expressions.

[ 48 ] When the ego allows the other soul components to interact with the intellectual soul, this manifests itself in such a way that it is expressed in human physiognomy. What we read in a person’s face is the expression of the ego’s work on the intellectual or emotional soul, depending on where the ego allows the other soul elements to act. Now we have said that when the ego is particularly active in the emotional soul, a person develops a malleable character; therefore, this malleability will also manifest externally. We can discern this malleability—which belongs to the present moment and to history—from the physiognomy: a face furrowed with sorrow. Here is imprinted the history of a human being, the record of what that person has experienced in their destiny.

[ 49 ] In animal physiognomy, one can wonderfully observe the characteristics of an animal’s species or genus. What a [single] human being has endured, and what has become of him, can be seen by observing human physiognomy. His history is written there. In a deeper sense, facial expressions also convey the various tendencies of character in a unique way. However, one must not be too pedantic about this, for everything can also be balanced out by other influences.

[ 50 ] Thus, in the human face, we can distinguish the mental part, the lower part around the mouth and chin, then the nasal part, and the frontal part, or the forehead. Depending on whether the “I” acts [particularly strongly] upon the intellectual soul, the feeling soul, or the conscious soul, this is expressed in a wide variety of ways. A person who expresses their individuality solely through the feeling soul is often characterized by a sharply protruding chin.

[ 51 ] Everything that happens in life is most pronounced in the middle part. When the “I” particularly influences the soul of feeling, allowing the soul of consciousness to act from above and the soul of sensation from below, and when there is balance in the soul of understanding, this is expressed in the physiognomic form such that the middle part of the face has a distinctive expression. Anyone who can observe life will find such balance in the soul life of the Greeks. This is why the famous Greek nose is regarded as the model of the human form for all sculpture. In Greek culture, the entire human face is reduced to the human nose.

[ 52 ] The character that the “I” has imprinted on the soul is imprinted on the human body. When, in particular, the conscious soul is pushed down into the intellectual soul, the forehead takes on a distinctive shape. One must not exaggerate these things, but must be clear that the “I” works individually within each person. When pedantry comes into play here, such things become distorted. It must be repulsive when pedantic, schoolbook-style nitpicking is applied to them. What distinguishes these matters is not abstract judgment, but scientific tact. This does not always proceed correctly, and all sorts of foolishness results when these things are exaggerated.

[ 53 ] When the “I” is active in the intellectual soul, it imprints itself [not only on] the physiognomy, not only on the physical form, but also on the handwriting. The character and style of the handwriting are, in a certain sense, a reflection of the workings of the “I” in the intellectual soul. Here, of course, [the interpretive] impulse is quite dangerous. If a healthy balance in judgment does not prevail, the result is dilettantism or humbug in the interpretation of handwriting. This is not to reject such an interpretation, but rather to justify—from a higher perspective—that character can indeed be reflected in handwriting.

[ 54 ] This helps explain why handwriting changes, given that the emotional soul is the malleable aspect of character. One must observe a person’s handwriting over several years to form a picture of how their character has changed; [this makes more sense] than drawing conclusions from a single piece of writing. Without knowing the person’s age, nothing reliable can be concluded here [either]. If one is knowledgeable in these matters, one can even infer past experiences from certain character traits in the handwriting more readily than one could discern the character trait itself from the handwriting. But only with the right approach can accurate conclusions be drawn.

[ 55 ] What happens when the “I” works primarily on the sensory soul, but as a strong “I” that works inwardly on the human soul? Of particular significance here is the case that shows us this “I” at the stage where it is enlightened by moral judgments and ideals. But once the “I” has carried moral ideals and judgments down into the sensory soul, and the drives and passions have been purified and give strength to the moral ideals, how is this expressed in the outer physical body?

[ 56 ] When the “I” has worked in this way, it cannot initially be expressed outwardly. What is brought down from the heights of the soul of consciousness must remain permeated by the soul of consciousness; it would have to express itself through the physical instrument of the soul of consciousness—the human brain. However, due to the rigid skull, it is not possible to express this through the skull. It can no longer reshape the individual bones, which have hardened, accordingly.

[ 57 ] Here we see that the various shapes of the skull cause us to perceive people as having certain predispositions. He has shaped the skull with a wide variety of ridges and depressions. As long as the skull is firm during one’s lifetime, the traits developed by one’s character cannot come into play.

[ 58 ] Here we have reached the point where we can obtain a reasonable explanation [of] a phenomenon by referring to what will be discussed later in its proper context—namely, the reincarnation of the human soul. What the soul is unable to accomplish in a particular life becomes apparent when the soul is reborn. For what the character has absorbed in terms of moral judgments and ideals in the feeling soul becomes imprinted upon the malleable organism. This is reflected in the plastic formation of the human skull.

[ 59 ] When we examine this human skull—engaging in a kind of craniology—we can look back at the human being’s previous incarnation. What we find there is very different from what has been practiced throughout the ages as phrenology. Here, all sorts of things have been identified as predispositions. An overview of this shows us how powerless human knowledge is in this regard when it does not delve into the depths. What we see on the skull’s surface cannot be reduced to individual forms; rather, it is the result of the work of the “I” on the sensory soul in a previous life. This is entirely individual and cannot be explained by any classification. What a person has acquired in one life—that they have not remained closed off within themselves but have allowed moral ideals to take effect within them—reappears in a later incarnation.

[ 60 ] Thus, what constitutes the mind and soul is expressed in outward physical form, and the body becomes a reflection of the mind, taking on a character of its own. Phrenology can become folly if it does not approach things in this way. [But] when we view things in this way, we see what Goethe calls “creative nature,” as opposed to “created nature.” In this way, we grasp the becoming of the spirit that permeates the cosmos and manifests itself in outward appearance.

[ 61 ] Here we see how character is formed and how the “I” shapes the soul within the character. Only when the “I” closes itself off within the conscious soul does a closed character arise, one that shuts itself off from the world. But when it takes hold of the other soul elements, something arises that is shaped all the way to the formation of the physical body. The poet had a profound insight when he said: When a person develops his abilities and talents, the “I” works within him; but when he develops his character, it works on the world and outer life:

Talent is forged in silence,
Character is shaped by the flow of the world.

[ 62 ] When the poet approaches these phenomena, it may become clear to him, in the deepest sense, that something flowed through him, in its entire nature and manner... Thus, it may become clear to the one who contemplates life how life is shaped from within. It is nature that stands there in its solidity. Yet it is that which contains the spirit within itself and allows it to be born from itself. The spirit, in turn, causes nature to emerge from itself—in facial expressions, [in] physiognomy, [in] the shaping of the skull. Through the “I,” it in turn imprints upon matter that which the “I” plays in the hidden depths of the soul on that wondrous musical instrument.

[ 63 ] That is what might occur to someone standing before such a marvel of form. Such a thought once flashed through a man’s mind when, after many years, he had a friend’s tomb opened and the skull removed. As he contemplated this skull, it occurred to him how the form expresses what the soul had lived through. [So wrote] Goethe as he contemplated Schiller’s skull:

What more can a person gain in life,
Than for God-Nature to reveal itself to him,
How it allows the solid to dissolve into spirit,
How it firmly preserves what the spirit has created.