The Nature of Man
in the Light of Spiritual Science
GA 68d
11 January 1908, Leipzig
Translated by Steiner Online Library
16. Man, Woman, and Child in the Light of Spiritual Science
[ 1 ] Today I want to talk about how theosophy directly becomes an art of living, how it refines and purifies our everyday feelings, and thus makes theosophy practical. Theosophical concepts can be directly applied in the lives of men, women, and children. However, there is great diversity here, for these concepts are not as simple as one might imagine.
[ 2 ] Every era has grappled with the question: What does a child inherit from its parents, what is the relationship between parents and child, and what is the relationship to the next generation in general? In our time, we are particularly concerned with the question: How are parental traits passed on to the child, and to what extent do the parents’ traits become a kind of fate for the children? These questions also arise in art, as in Ibsen’s *Ghosts*, where what is inherited from the parents unfolds in such a terrible fate for the child. This is reminiscent of the fate depicted in Greek tragedies, only rendered in materialistic terms. All of this shows that this question has aroused deep interest. Only those who view the whole human being in its fourfold nature can pass judgment on this matter. Our time, after all, sees only the physical body. The question, however, must be considered in two ways: first, in what form the child’s own contribution should be viewed, and second, to what extent the parents are active in what manifests through the child.
[ 3 ] Physical science uses a specific term when referring to this relationship: “heredity.” It applies this term to humans as well as to lower forms of life and applies it to humans in a rather mechanical way. This science is unaware of one fact: that a great law runs through all stages of existence, but that these facts intensify.
[ 4 ] In humans, heredity is something entirely different from what it is in lower organisms. When we draw comparisons with phenomena in the lower realms of nature, we find two closely related concepts: the concepts of reproduction and love. Love is already evident in lower organisms and becomes more refined as we move up to humans. I am not speaking here of an abstract concept, but of something real, such as electricity. It is a real force that flows through all human beings; however, this love exists under entirely different conditions. When a lower organism reaches its peak and becomes ready for reproduction, love comes into play. We see that these lower organisms are exhausted afterward and soon die. For them, death is the continuation of and the consequence of love. It is no different with plants; after fertilization and once the seed for the next plant has been formed, the plant dies. But if we ascend to higher organisms, we see that they preserve something beyond love. The plant preserves nothing of itself; it dies. We find the same to be true of lower animals; love brings them death. A higher being, however, preserves its individuality. This is most highly developed in humans. In this respect, humans differ quite fundamentally from the animals closest to them.
[ 5 ] There is one fact that characterizes the fundamental difference between humans and all other animals. Usually, this is not recognized in its proper light, nor is its true significance appreciated. The fact seems simple: We can describe a human being as a single, individual entity. This holds the same interest for us as when we describe an entire species of animal. In the case of the lion, for example, we are not so much interested in its individual characteristics; rather, our interest remains focused on the species. You cannot write a biography of an animal; that makes it clear to you. The human being, as an individual, is a species unto himself. The biography shows us quite clearly what esoteric science teaches us: the necessity of reincarnation. In animals, we simply find a resemblance to their parents. But let us ask ourselves whether we understand Schiller by observing his parents. He may well have inherited his nose, his gait, his posture, and even his predisposition to illness from his parents, but we will never find in them that which makes Schiller, for humanity, Schiller.
[ 6 ] It was once believed that fish could arise from river silt. The first to challenge this notion was the Italian naturalist Redi. He nearly fell victim to the Inquisition for asserting that living things must arise from living things. Today this is taken for granted. But when it comes to the soul and spirit, the entire scientific community holds this belief. It does not ask, as Schiller did, where do spiritual qualities come from? Theosophy answers this question: through reincarnation. Schiller’s innermost being does not originate from his ancestors, but from the being in his previous life. Thus, we see in every human being what has its causes in a previous life, and this sheds the proper light on the relationship between father, mother, and child. The parents provide only the shell so that this being may incorporate what is essentially its own offspring.
[ 7 ] It is similar with a plant seed that is buried in the earth. The idea, the thought, contains the entire form, but it would never have come into being without this mother earth; likewise, nothing comes into being unless the seed is planted in it. A patch of soil provides the opportunity for plant seeds to develop, but it is the soil itself that helps them grow into bean or pea plants. In higher spiritual science, the situation is similar with regard to the human being’s higher self. After the period between birth and death, the human being lives in another world, in Devachan. There they remain until they are ready for a new incarnation. Then something must be given to them so that the power within them can fully absorb material substance, and thus the seed from the spiritual world receives its physical form through the parents. We can no longer say that parents bequeath something to the child, any more than we can say that the earth has more than a certain share in the plant.
[ 8 ] Now let us consider the fourfold nature of the human being and the role each part plays. The newborn child undergoes a distinct process of development in its individual parts. From birth until the teeth are replaced, the physical body takes on its form. This process is completed with the child’s own teeth; the first teeth are inherited. The form grows and expands, but it is itself predetermined. From the age of seven until sexual maturity, the etheric body develops. This marks the culmination.
[ 9 ] When a person reaches sexual maturity, [then] he becomes capable of producing a being like himself. The astral body develops from approximately age 14 to 21. Just as all the characteristics of the physical body develop by the age of seven, so too do the characteristics of the astral body develop during this period—all the impulses and feelings that guide a person into the future. It is a crime to fail, during this time, to bring forth what is inherent in the astral body: that rosy bliss of hope. At the age of 22, the “I” emerges in the human being. Thus, every single aspect of the human being develops gradually.
[ 10 ] To what extent does what comes from a previous life play a role, and to what extent is it inherited from one’s parents? We can learn a great deal about this from the fact cited above. In lower animals—since nothing remains upon reaching sexual maturity—nothing from a previous life will remain; it will die off; there is no individuality; they die when they love.
[ 11 ] Now you will understand that, essentially, something is inherited—something anchored in the physical and etheric bodies—and that the astral body and the “I” must trace back to the previous life. Whatever may resemble the physical form manifests itself by the age of seven. By the time of sexual maturity, we recognize which traits have been inherited from the father and mother. At sexual maturity, aspects emerge that originate from a past life. To the extent that the being “rescues” itself after reaching sexual maturity, that much is not inherited. Nevertheless, what was acquired earlier is already present; this is evident from the fact that predispositions manifest as early as adolescence. They cast their shadows ahead when they cannot be traced to the father or mother. The father and mother have a combined influence on the physical and etheric bodies.
[ 12 ] At times, a child may first resemble the mother completely, then more the father. This is brought about by the fact that there is a feminine aspect in every man and a masculine aspect in every woman. Four influences are at work here, intertwined. The situation is more complex for the astral body and the “I.” What matters is what was imprinted earlier. To illustrate this, I’d like to offer a comparison: A person with a certain degree of individuality lives in very comfortable domestic circumstances, but due to some event, he must make do with a miserable dwelling. This will have a certain influence on him; nevertheless, the person remains the same, and he must adapt to the circumstances. Parents are not the creators; they are merely the dwelling, and the living beings must adapt to it.
[ 13 ] What comes from the woman primarily influences the astral body, while what comes from the man influences the child’s “I.” Artistic and poetic qualities stem more from the mother, because these are characteristics connected to the astral realm. In contrast, what relates more to an orderly, practical life—and is connected to the “I”—comes from the father. As Goethe says:
From my father I got my build
And a commanding presence;
From my mother, her cheerful disposition
And a love of storytelling.
[ 14 ] Here we must mention alcohol and its devastating effects. Only those who are unaware of these effects can underestimate its impact on future generations. Alcohol has a terrible effect on the “I” and on astral matters. Let us observe a child whose father is an alcoholic: the race might be so strong that it overcomes the damage; yet we find predispositions to pathological conditions that are all connected to a crippled “I” and to cretinism. These are much more widespread than one might think, and will manifest themselves even more severely in future generations unless spiritual science takes action against them.
[ 15 ] There are realities beneath the surface of life in which the “I” has far greater shortcomings than one might think. Often, people are considered particularly gifted—poets, for example. Today, however, the ability to compose poetry is by no means an admirable gift. In truth, it is the times that write; a feature writer or entertainment columnist may be mentally deficient. Certain effects of the “I” are present and are linked to alcoholism. In women, a shadow is also evident in the development of the astral body, manifested as instability and flight of ideas. Hysteria also indicates that the astral body is not in order. In this illness, you can find confirmation of what esoteric science says about the relationship between man, woman, and child.
[ 16 ] We see, then, that we must fundamentally reshape the simplistic concepts of heredity. The essential point in all these matters is that our horizon is broadened—not only intellectually but also morally. Transformation is the gold of morality. How true is Schopenhauer’s brilliant insight: “As man and woman seek each other, the offspring is already taking shape.” It is a subtle concept that we must form for ourselves. You see a fiery, passionate ardor that descends into the animal realm and ascends to the highest realm, where love unites man and woman. There is another perspective—a selfish one—that arises from lust. It is born of monstrous, immoral stupidity. It is not true that every sexual impulse must be satisfied; on the contrary, it is beneficial in every way—even for one’s health—when this is not the case. Where love is combined with purity, there a soul will find its finest vessel. There is an ideal in which every base instinct is silenced—not out of abstinence—and yet still ensures human offspring. People are not yet ready to understand what significance this has for certain matters, but it will be a great blessing. People will come to understand how the emergence of one sex or the other is connected to cosmic and other conditions. If even a word were revealed about this today, it would cause the greatest nonsense. Today, these matters may only be touched upon.
[ 17 ] What happens in the spiritual world after death? That which has ascended rests in Devachan, awaiting reincarnation. This person first envelops themselves in an astral body. Just as a magnet moving beneath a sheet of paper on which iron filings [lie] arranges the filings, so does the astral matter arrange itself into a new body. If you could see with occult vision, you would see how the astral matter takes shape. What is this? It is something that mingles with the fiery passion that flows from man to woman. Where desire is evil, evil is mixed in; where love is pure, the astral matter remains uncontaminated. The final stage depends on the greater or lesser purity of the loving relationship. We cannot bestow characteristics from past lives, but we can prevent astral matter from being contaminated. Purity, viewed in this light, becomes respect for the freedom of the incarnating human being. One must have grasped the ideas of reincarnation.
[ 18 ] From the child, we turn to the future generation. Every child must be a mystery to the educator, for behind the child’s life lies something transcendent that is striving to emerge. To nurture and care for this emerging, transcendent aspect within the child is the only way of educating that does justice to the child. And we can say: If we want to give the next generation a meaningful existence, then we must value the child’s freedom in education.
[ 19 ] In contemporary life, what is primarily recognized is the sensory realm. Only when the supersensory realm is recognized will the future become integrated with the present and the past. When these ideas begin to influence our actions and our very being, then we will have brought Theosophy to life. Those who reject knowledge because it is too inconvenient for them are, figuratively speaking, cutting off the tree’s roots. Knowledge is the root, and growing into these insights is the trunk and the crown; we achieve this growth when we incorporate Theosophy into our entire lives.
