The Rudolf Steiner Archive

6. Errors in Spiritual Research

Preliminary Note: No transcript is available of the lecture on “Truths of Spiritual Research” delivered the previous day, February 18, 1913, in Stuttgart.

[ 1 ] Ladies and gentlemen! In the field of spiritual science, it is almost as important to be clear about the paths of error as it is to be clear about those of truth, for in this field, truths must not merely be sought—as they are in external life—but must be fought for. And those inner struggles of the soul through which truths in the field of spiritual science are to be attained—those struggles often lead us through errors that lie in wait at every turn and that must be overcome; above all, they must be recognized in their full nature and significance. Errors are refuted in external life and in external science; in the realm of spiritual life, they must be fought as real forces that stand in our way on our paths to truth. And so let yesterday’s lecture on spiritual scientific truths be supplemented and further elaborated upon through a consideration of the sources of error. Here, too, it is not possible to say that this or that is an error of spiritual research; rather, the question is how the inquiring, seeking soul can fall into error.

[ 2 ] It has been pointed out not only yesterday but repeatedly over the years that the spiritual researcher must make himself into an instrument through which he penetrates the spiritual worlds. What the spiritual researcher must develop are spiritual organs. Just as we, as people living ordinary lives, have physical organs to perceive the external world physically, so too can we acquire spiritual organs through the means that were briefly discussed yesterday. Through spiritual sense organs—if the expression were not contradictory—we enter the spiritual world in order to recognize its nature and mysteries. We must further acquire the ability to attain, with full consciousness, what can be experienced through such spiritual organs. Now, of course, although this may seem superfluous to many, it must be emphasized again and again that these spiritual organs are by no means comparable to the physical senses. They are supersensible organs. Just as the world we enter through them is itself supersensory—not outwardly visible, not outwardly perceptible—so, too, are the organs we develop purely spiritual-soul organs. And this consciousness is, in a sense, a different, higher consciousness than that of ordinary life and ordinary science.

[ 3 ] Nevertheless, we can communicate if we understand the sources of error in the realm of the mind. Let us begin, by way of comparison, with the various sources of error in the sensory-physical realm. How can we come to errors in our external perception of the sensory world? Let us cite a concrete example. If we have some defect in our eye, it may turn out that, because of this defect, we constantly see things incorrectly. A very well-known natural scientist who has such a visual defect may be cited among the hundreds of examples that could be mentioned. He himself recounts how, time and again at twilight, he always believed that this or that figure was standing before him, which he could see clearly. This is due solely to a visual defect. Once, when he was walking around a corner in a strange city and was wary of the dangers of that unfamiliar place, his eyes deceived him, and he believed that a person approaching him intended to harm him. He even drew his weapon to drive away the nonexistent figure.

[ 4 ] Faulty organs cause faulty vision in the sensory world. Now we can say, by way of comparison: In spiritual research, too, flawed organs—flawed “spiritual eyes,” to use Goethe’s expression—which we acquire through the self-development and self-education outlined yesterday, cause flawed perception and errors in our understanding of the spiritual world.

[ 5 ] How do we end up with such flawed faculties? It must be emphasized from the outset that what the spiritual researcher attains through self-education and self-development always depends on the starting point from which his soul sets out. Self-development, after all, is based on further developing the abilities and spiritual powers we already possess in ordinary life, raising them to higher levels. And everything depends on our starting from a healthy spiritual life—from a soul that is healthy in every respect—and then developing our spiritual faculties from that foundation. In order for us to arrive, through the development described, at healthy spiritual faculties that convey truths—and not errors—in our perceptions of the spiritual world, it is necessary that we begin with what is called common sense in ordinary life: sound judgment. We must build upon this further. Particularly harmful to spiritual development and to the proper formation of the spiritual faculties is any kind of fanaticism or fantasy. For whatever clings to the soul in the form of fanaticism and fantasy—or of incorrect or untruthful judgments about things here in the sensory world—remains attached to it in a certain way during its further spiritual development; and this ultimately leads to the formation of spiritual faculties that do not function properly—faculties that can be compared to an eye that sees incorrectly.

[ 6 ] We are about to reach a point, ladies and gentlemen, that must be discussed if the foundation of spiritual research is to be sound. It was already pointed out yesterday from another perspective that adherents of spiritual science and spiritual research make a mistake when they regard a person who can recount things from the spiritual world as someone special from the outset simply because he or she is regarded as a seer. The gift of clairvoyance should, in essence, be understood as nothing other than a special human ability that has developed to enable one to look into the spiritual world—just as one undergoes scientific training to become a botanist, a zoologist, or a mathematician. And the more clearly those who profess spiritual science realize that a person is not special simply because they are a seer or a spiritual researcher, the better. We should not make a person’s worth dependent on their gift of clairvoyance, nor should they themselves do so under any circumstances. A person’s worth, even as a seer, depends on their possessing sound judgment and common sense already here in the physical world. When the methods discussed are then applied to the development of the soul, this leads to healthy spiritual faculties. Unhealthy common sense leads to a pathological spiritual outlook that presents the spiritual world in a false, erroneous form. That is the one thing that must be said.

[ 7 ] The other important point is that we are able to form a correct, conscious judgment within the spiritual world, that we can orient ourselves in the right way, so that we do not succumb to any deception or delusion—not only through our healthy faculties, but also through consciousness itself.

[ 8 ] Now, something can happen to the spiritual researcher that can be compared—to use another analogy—to a situation here in the physical world where a person’s consciousness is as if unconscious, as if numb, as if drowsy, as if paralyzed, so that the person in question, due to their powerless, numbed consciousness, cannot properly orient themselves in the physical world. A similar phenomenon can befall the spiritual researcher if he, in turn, does not start from the right point of departure. The right point of departure for having a clear consciousness that properly illuminates the spiritual field of vision is a morally healthy state of mind and spiritual disposition. Just as an unhealthy mind leads to unhealthy organs, so does a weak moral sensibility lead to a kind of disorientation—one might even say a numbness or clouding—of the higher consciousness.

[ 9 ] Thus we see that, in order to recognize the sources of error in the spiritual realm, the development of the soul into a spiritual researcher must be based on sound common sense, sound and firm moral judgment, and a sound and firm moral disposition. This merely reaffirms, however, that the seer is not a special person simply because he possesses the gift of clairvoyance, but that he must be judged in terms of his human worth just as other people are—according to his sound judgment and moral disposition. It is just that these two things are infinitely more important in the field of spiritual research than in ordinary life, because they are, in fact, the fundamental conditions for discovering truths and avoiding errors.

[ 10 ] We can point out still other sources of error—or rather, describe the paths of error in a different way. And here, to ensure we understand one another, it is best to start once again from the ordinary sensory observation of things. We all know, esteemed audience, that there is a widespread way of viewing the things of the external world called materialism—a materialistic view of the external world. Now, the task before us is to gain clarity, through spiritual science, as to how this materialistic mindset can arise in human beings within the ordinary physical world. Spiritual science—as has become clear through all the discussions I have been able to present here before you—leads us to recognize that spiritual forces are at work behind everything, including material existence, and that material existence is merely the expression of the spiritual forces lying behind it. Thus, even in the realm where the material is active, it is actually the spirit that is at work.

[ 11 ] How, then, do people come to be materialists despite this? How do they come to fail to recognize that wherever matter appears, this matter is merely a manifestation of the spirit? If we acknowledge the spirit everywhere, ladies and gentlemen, then we must also seek the causes within the spirit itself for why people can become materialists. And indeed, there are spiritual reasons within the human soul—forces that act upon the human soul from the spiritual world—which lead people to adopt a materialistic mindset. Among the spiritual forces that spiritual research reveals to us, we find—please take this term as a technical term—the so-called Ahrimanic forces, forces that we designate as “Ahrimanic” in reference to the Persian spirit Ahriman. These are specific spiritual forces that act upon the human soul in such a way that they, so to speak, veil from that soul everything that does not manifest in dense materiality. It is absolutely true what Goethe and others have said, what all those who truly understand these things have said: The external perception of the senses does not err—it is judgment that errs when it is beguiled by certain forces within the human soul. The material phenomena that present themselves to us do not tell us that they are merely matter. Human souls judge that which is a revelation of the spiritual to be merely matter. Certain forces work into these human souls, numbing them so that they cannot see that the material is merely the expression of the spiritual. What Goethe expressed corresponds to a profound meaning, a real essence within the human soul: The Ahrimanic or Mephistophelean forces have entered the soul and are at work there; and when one discusses these matters, one is led quite appropriately to the conclusion that the materialistic mindset, by its very existence, is for the spiritual researcher true proof of those forces that beguile human beings and veil the spiritual from them; these are the Mephistophelean forces that cause people to shy away from the spiritual.

[ 12 ] If we want to look into the soul itself to see what is going on within it—so that it cannot find the spiritual in the material—we can ask ourselves: Why does a person actually become materialistic? We must be clear about the fact that the human soul does not consist solely of what takes place in its ordinary consciousness, but that there are hidden depths to the human soul—that there is a subconscious life of the soul. This is often called the “subconscious life of the soul”—the wandering into the depths of the soul that does not rise into the regions within which a person is conscious. For everything that can arise in consciousness can sink down into unconscious regions and take effect there. It would be a foolish prejudice to believe that what one does not know has no effect. A striking example of the influence [of the subconscious] in the soul, which manifests itself in a completely different way, is the following: Luther once said, “When I am truly angry, I can pray and preach best.”—He said this, and anyone who understands the soul understands it. The forces at work in the soul can transform themselves in the most varied ways. Anger is simply a force of the soul; when it plunges into the depths of the soul, it can manifest itself in consciousness in an entirely different way. When we channel our anger inward, when we bring it into the subconscious region of the soul, it can manifest as something that appears to be its opposite. Praying and preaching usually do not resemble an outburst of anger; but Luther knew that he could pray and preach best [when he was angry]. So it is with many soul stirrings. They cannot be proven in the ordinary sense, but they reveal themselves through observation of the soul. Whoever examines the soul, just as one examines chemical substances in their combination and decomposition, will discover the paths followed by the various forces of the soul’s life—how they transform and change when they are in consciousness, and how they differ when they plunge into the lower regions of the soul’s life. There is something we must refer to as a force—a force that everyone recognizes when it appears in the higher regions of consciousness: fear. To the connoisseur of the soul, it is related to hatred. Often, in the higher region of the soul, we hate what we fear; but we have already repressed the fear into the subconscious. Hatred and fear are closely related. But fear is also related to another very common human trait, a trait that occurs everywhere and is at work in the world: complacency. And for the connoisseur of the soul, it indeed becomes clear that what is evoked is the comfortable tendency to maintain this or that, to not change this or that, out of fear of the uncertainty one enters into when one acts differently [than usual]. People are so attached to tradition because they are afraid of change. Comfort is fear present in ordinary consciousness, repressed into the subconscious.

[ 13 ] When one enters the spiritual realm, one encounters experiences such as those described here yesterday—experiences in which one might say that a person loses the ground beneath their feet, stands before the void, in order to gain something new. The soul sometimes senses, dimly in the depths of the subconscious, that which it does not bring to consciousness. It is merely fear—the soul’s fear of all that is to be experienced when one enters the spiritual world; this fear does not come to consciousness, but the materialistically minded person harbors it in the depths of their soul. For those who know the soul, it becomes clear that one becomes materialistically minded because, in the depths of the soul, one fears the uncertainty one enters upon when one plunges into the spiritual realm. It does seem strange, however, that when one explores the soul, one must characterize the materialist as a coward in the spiritual realm; but that is how it is. This is nothing other than the masking of the fear of spiritual life, through which this spiritual life is suppressed, leading the soul to numb itself to the spirit. Thus, what is at work behind the scenes remains hidden from the soul. The demons of fear, the Ahrimanic spirits, rage within the mind and soul of the materialistically minded person. And so the materialistically minded person is living proof of the workings of the spiritual. It is the spiritual itself that tempts the materialist to be a materialist. This brings to mind a saying by the poet that is all too true when one sees how the materialist is tempted by the Ahrimanic spirits to be a materialist, and how he expresses his masked fear by insisting that only the material be recognized everywhere:

This little crowd never senses the devil,
even if he had them by the collar.

[ 14 ] Nothing is more reminiscent of this proof than when the materialist, in his unconscious fear, resists the initial uncertainty into which one is thrust. That is the true psychological process that leads to materialism.

[ 15 ] But what matters to us here is simply this: What causes this exposure to the demons of fear and anxiety—the forces that numb the soul? To characterize this state of mind, we have now taken as our starting point the external, physical-sensory world, where this state of mind leads one to adopt a materialistic outlook.

[ 16 ] But the same state of mind can also be present in a person who is undergoing spiritual development or who, due to certain special circumstances, has gained a kind of insight into the spiritual world. The demons of fear mentioned above do not affect only those with a materialistic mindset, but also those who may already be able to glimpse into the spiritual world. There, they have a different effect. But this effect can in turn be characterized by comparing the profound experiences we have there with what we have encountered before. Just as everything appears to the materialist in coarse, material form, so do these demons affect the soul of a person who is disposed in the same way as the materialist, causing them to see only what is not spiritual but dense and appears ghostlike. The spiritual, in all its subtlety, is lost to them. He does not seek the spiritual at all; it is far too fleeting, too enigmatic for him. He does not even recognize the spiritual as such; it must manifest itself in such a condensed, coarse form that it is, as it were, merely a material phenomenon transformed into something spiritual. He seeks such visions and imaginings that are not spiritual, but ghostly.

[ 17 ] Now, this is not to say that these impressions, which arise in such density, are not true impressions. If they have been caused as was described here yesterday, they are, of course, entirely true. But the interpretation is usually incorrect. Such a person sees in these things that appear before him from the spiritual world—which he longs for in a ghostly way because he does not acknowledge the truly spiritual—he sees in them the only reality. He seeks nothing but ghosts instead of spirits. Through this, he does indeed encounter spiritual phenomena, facts of the spiritual world, but he misjudges them. Let us take an example. Such a spiritual seer manages, through the methods already discussed here, to look back into his previous earthly lives. When he looks back, images may appear before him—facts that reveal the nature of his previous earthly lives. In reality, however, this is not the case. In reality, he does not see what he truly was, but rather what has been shed from him like shells—that which is dying, that which is perishing. He sees what he should not see if he wishes to perceive the true, evolving reality. And so, for example, when such a person looks upon a soul that has passed through death, he sees a kind of ghostly world instead of the true spiritual world. He perceives a reality [and regards it] as the true reality of the deceased, but what he perceives is not the true reality; rather, it is what the deceased has just shed—that which is decaying and perishing—while the ongoing, ever-evolving reality remains unseen. For through such a state of mind, the seer regards this as something shadowy, in which he has no interest. This is the state of mind that, in reality, does not lead us toward the spiritual, but rather always only misleads us into misinterpreting what we see. We believe we are seeing a living soul, something that is developing, but we mistake that which is destroying itself, that which is dissolving, that which is doomed to death, for something that is developing.

[ 18 ] We see, then, that in the spiritual realm, the matter of error is somewhat different. Error in the ordinary world is usually refutable; in the spiritual world, what we can seek out—so that the spiritual world may have meaning for us—is that which fosters life, that which is emerging, that which is sprouting and budding; and we confuse this sprouting and budding with that which is doomed to death, that which is diseased, and that which is self-destructive. The contrast is different in the spiritual realm than in the outer realm. The concepts of true and false are transformed in the spiritual world, so that instead of what is developing in the spiritual world—the fruitful, the sprouting, the budding, the luminous, the illuminating—we see that which is self-destructive and dissolving. And the fact that we confuse truth with error in the physical-sensory world corresponds, in the spiritual world, to our confusing that which is dedicated to life with that which is dedicated to death. The relationships are therefore entirely different. One must accustom oneself, upon entering the spiritual world, to perceive this world in an entirely different way and to develop entirely new concepts and ideas. From this, in turn, it becomes clear what the nature of error is. If one considers the concepts and ideas acquired in the ordinary world to be sufficient for the spiritual realm, this is already a grave error.

[ 19 ] I would like to use another analogy that illustrates a very common misconception in this field. Let us suppose we are dealing with something that has formed deep inside a mine as a result of the forces at work within the Earth. Let’s suppose a fissure were to open all the way to the Earth’s surface. Sunlight streams in through this fissure; it can illuminate in the most magnificent way everything that has formed down there in the darkness. We can find it beautiful and magnificent to see how the sunlight falls upon all that could not have come into being on the Earth’s surface. What the sunlight creates on the Earth’s surface cannot be created in the same way in the depths, and yet what has formed in the depths may reveal itself to us as a feast for the eyes when sunlight penetrates through a crack.

[ 20 ] What was described earlier is certainly true: When the spiritual researcher translates what he has seen in the spiritual world into terms of common sense and interprets it, then anyone can understand these things. The spiritual world can be understood not only by those who are spiritual researchers themselves, but also through common sense. However, this spiritual world can be explored only by those who can penetrate it with the soul of a spiritual researcher. But when descriptions of the supersensible worlds are presented in terms of concepts and ideas, one is naturally led to compare such a description to sunlight streaming through a crack in the earth into a mine; and then even ordinary people—who cannot penetrate those regions of spiritual truth with the concepts of the sensory world—can [understand them].

[ 21 ] We must also be clear that the soul itself must take the step into the spiritual world if the facts and beings of that spiritual world are to be revealed. That is the one pitfall: certain spiritual forces act upon the soul, leading it—out of fear—onto the wrong path... [gap in the postscript]

[ 22 ] Another pitfall arises when the soul is seized by precisely that which has just been described as needing to be overcome. For the sake of clarity—not to endorse mediumship—we have said that all sense of self must be extinguished in the medium so that the medium can be connected [to the cosmic order]. The spiritual researcher, however, who conducts his research consciously, must also consciously set aside his individuality when he confronts the spiritual world. But when a person stands before himself at this point as if facing a foreign being, a foreign figure—standing, as it were, outside of himself and looking back—when he experiences all of this, only then does he realize how what might be called self-love actually operates within the human being. When one speaks in this way, someone might easily come along and say: “Yes, he’s talking to us about the conquest of the self and the like; but those are easy things.” – Anyone who speaks this way is speaking only of what they know as self-love. The spiritual researcher comes to know something entirely different from self-love; the moment they have separated themselves from themselves, this self-love becomes like a force of nature; it becomes such that it initially appears invincible. And it proves to be invincible in a specific case: when the spiritual researcher or seeker does not even come close to truly setting aside everything that constitutes his own self. If self-love is truly recognized in such a way that he now overcomes and conquers it, then something develops in the soul that is not usually recognized in the proper way. Something of self-love remains in his soul—something so subtle, so refined—that even the soul researcher, the spiritual seeker himself, interprets what lives within him in a completely false and erroneous way. And here a very peculiar phenomenon occurs:

[ 23 ] Because the spiritual seeker believes he has torn self-love out of himself, he tells himself: You have banished self-love; what you now find within yourself is something other than yourself. – He then calls this the divine within himself. But since he has not succeeded in completely uprooting self-love from himself, he becomes a false mystic. He looks into his inner self and believes he recognizes his divine self, but he is merely worshiping what remains of self-love from his own self. Many of the gods worshiped in false mysticism—mysticism that has strayed onto the wrong path—are nothing more than one’s own being, nothing more than one’s own self. For mystics, love of God is often nothing more than self-love in disguise.

[ 24 ] There one stands before a perilous field of error in the spiritual sciences. And in the history of mysticism, it is often quite difficult to distinguish where the mystic has truly advanced to an objective spiritual insight, and where he merely venerates within himself that remnant of his self—which he no longer recognizes as his own self—as something higher.

[ 25 ] We can once again find something in the ordinary sensory realm, externally in the physical world, through which we can understand what occurs in the mystic who has strayed from the path. We need only point to a certain scientific movement that emerged, in particular, in the mid-19th century. This scientific movement does not present itself as materialistic; it does not even believe itself to be materialistic, for it speaks of ideas in history, of effects and thoughts in history. Thus, there are many researchers who, in the strictest sense of the word, would reject the notion that there are national souls or epochal souls as realities—that there are entities at all which reveal themselves as real entities through the course of human development. In the nineteenth century, it was considered more correct—and more impartial—to speak only of ideas in the course of history. This has become particularly grotesque in recent discussions of the question of the life of Jesus. A school of thought emerged that claimed: The historical Jesus did not exist at all; rather, the idea of Christ arose within the community and in the development of the church. – It has been argued that it is a more refined view not to acknowledge the reality of Christ Jesus, but only the idea that entered into history. How do such ideas in history appear to one who sees through things? They appear to him as if he were claiming that a painter who is merely a painted figure could paint a picture; in the same way, an idea can work within history. Only beings can act; ideas and thoughts cannot. And this so-called idealism of history can be refuted simply by showing how it proceeds erroneously in terms of knowledge, falling into the error that immediately becomes apparent when one considers whether a painter who is merely a painting can paint a picture. Entities that appear in some way as embodied human beings can have an effect, but ideas and thoughts cannot; these evaporate into mere shadows when one disregards the entity and the essential. Just as reality itself vanishes into mere shadows of thought for such people, so too does that which is supposed to possess a spiritual reality for those who have become mystics out of unrecognized, masked self-love—it becomes something that cannot possibly exist outside their soul, something that is effective only within their own soul. And the consequence of this is that such souls cannot penetrate to spiritual entities that must exist independently of them. They can only penetrate as far as what they can bring into their own self—what they can, as it were, spiritually consume.

[ 26 ] If one were to use a rather rough comparison—please excuse me, but it may help clarify the point—one could say: Anyone who wishes to become a clairvoyant must be able to perceive spiritual beings that are independent of himself, just as one can perceive physical beings with physical eyes; he must be able to see, let’s say by way of comparison, a piglet that is separate from him. But suppose someone could not see a piglet at all, but could only eat and enjoy it once it has been killed and carved up. Such a spiritual connoisseur is the kind of mystic I am describing. The spiritual connoisseur does not direct his gaze toward beings that are objectively separate from him, but toward the spiritual world in general; he does not take in beings, but only spiritual substances, which he consumes and absorbs, yet he never attains anything that is an inwardly enriched self; rather, only a hollowed-out self, so that in the end his self swells into a kind of spiritual universe. And precisely because he so thoroughly saturates his self with whatever fits into it, he blocks his own path to true spiritual entities and truths, and he perceives only that which weaves and works within himself. The history of mysticism is therefore so difficult to study because one must distinguish precisely between those mystics who have truly managed to detach themselves from their own self and perceive the essential, and those mystics who actually merely confuse self-love with the love of God and perceive only what fills their own self; they essentially live only from their own self.

[ 27 ] On the one hand, [the perception of the spiritual] in a grossly materialized form, as a kind of ghostly vision; and on the other hand, the mystical worship of one’s own self—these are the two main paths of error in the spiritual realm.

[ 28 ] It all depends on the soul finding the path to truth by truly bringing forth from within itself what a human being is and viewing it objectively; that is why it is so necessary to begin spiritual research and the study of spiritual science, so that we may arrive at truths rather than errors in the matters that can best protect us from self-love.

[ 29 ] If a spiritual seeker, desiring to explore the innermost aspects of life, were to initially strive to seek out people who have just passed away in the spiritual world—in other words, if a person were to become a spiritual seeker out of love for others—he would very easily be led astray in one direction or another. Our interest should first be drawn to that which leads us out into the wider world, to the stage of historical events and great world phenomena—events that do not affect us so personally, because we can more easily detach ourselves from our personality when faced with what does not affect us personally than when confronted with what does. When seeking out the spirit of someone who has recently passed away, we are exposed to all manner of personal errors. If we investigate the changes the soul has undergone in the course of its development, we are easily inclined to view the matter subjectively, based on our own intentions.

[ 30 ] In my *Secret Science*, I have attempted to take as my starting point that which interests not only the individual but all human beings. For this is what matters if we are to become spiritual researchers and increasingly free ourselves from the error: that we learn to recognize ourselves as a product of the entire world. Just as we recognize other beings and things as products of the entire world—just as, for example, we look at and observe a plant, not only the plant itself externally, but also in relation to the soil, the sun, the wind, and the geographical conditions in which it lives— just as we, so to speak, draw on the entire environment to explain the particularity, the individual nature of the plant—so too can we explain ourselves as human beings in relation to the whole world, especially by focusing on our spiritual and soul nature. We are, in fact, as is so often said, a microcosm within the macrocosm. We are a reflection, an imprint of the greater world, and there lies a profound spiritual truth in the fact that we compare what the human being possesses in their soul, in their spiritual essence, with the entire universe. But we cannot do this as long as we remain stuck within ourselves. Only when we have truly stepped outside of ourselves—when we have ourselves, as human beings, standing beside us—can we compare what we now hold as an objective object with the world.

[ 31 ] Is it any wonder that what has emerged in the spiritual sciences often appears to people as foolish fantasy? In physics, for example, people accept that there are seven distinct colors; in music theory, that there are seven notes and the eighth note is the octave. But the spiritual scientist is not forgiven for conceiving of human nature as having seven members and tracing it back to seven interrelated worlds. And yet it is the same line of thought that finds seven colors in physics, seven notes in the octave, and seven members of human nature in spiritual science. It is the same idea; one is no more than the other.

[ 32 ] But one can only recognize the connection between human nature and the wider world if one views human nature in such a way that one considers it in its entirety. Human beings are spiritual-soul beings. The intellect can only perceive through the senses. To arrive at spiritual truths—not spiritual errors—one must be able to recognize the human being outside of oneself as a product of the entire world. This is extraordinarily important. One must be able to observe the world in its effect on the human being. As long as one merely observes the effects on one’s own being, one will not arrive at the truth—only at error. A person must stand outside of themselves and then view themselves in relation to the world; they must have detached themselves from themselves. This is the first condition for a person to reach a state where everything they develop within themselves, everything they have cultivated within themselves, does not remain confined within the realm of self-love. What does that mean? Well, what develops us spiritually and psychologically? We perform certain exercises for the development of the soul: meditation, concentration, and so on—these have been outlined here yesterday and on many previous occasions. This gives rise to certain soul processes within us. As long as we practice them in such a way that we have even the slightest sensation that it is we ourselves who are developing there, we cannot protect ourselves from error.

[ 33 ] That is one side of the matter. It is the side that the mystic finds so difficult to overcome—he loses himself in his own self, albeit in a subtle way. What takes place within us to lift us up into higher worlds must be a universal process, not an individual one. We must recognize people outside of ourselves; we must perceive the world and experience it within ourselves.

[ 34 ] These are the two great mysteries that lead to the path of truth and help us avoid error. To recognize the essence of humanity outside of ourselves—not within us—and to experience the world not merely outside of us, but within us as an objective world: that is the second.

[ 35 ] Whoever takes these two significant guidelines as goals for attaining the spiritual world will gradually reach a point where they can attain the knowledge of truth through experience. Once one possesses the truth in the spiritual realm, one becomes what one has recognized as truth, for one immerses oneself in those beings. We experience the world and then perceive it—as we experience it—as a torch that illuminates the spiritual world for us. We perceive it as a life-giving element that proves fruitful, that nurtures us by guiding us from stage to stage, from step to step on our journey. We perceive the world as it reveals itself within us and to us humans as that which germinates and sprouts and proves effective. If one can perceive it this way, one can be certain that one is living in spiritual truth. Error, however, is cold, frost; it is that which obscures spiritual truth for us. In the spiritual world, error is a force; errors are forces, are entities, but they are forces that extinguish and cast darkness. The more we find ourselves caught up in error, the more we can feel: if one seeks to use it to illuminate the world, it darkens everything. One finds that everywhere life seems to be frozen as by a force of death, as if turned to decay, when one approaches it with error. Error proves to be something real that manifests as a destructive, devastating force. We must defeat it, root it out; we must cultivate forces—not merely judgments—to refute it, so that it may depart from us. Then we struggle our way through to the truth. That is why the search for truth in the realm of the spirit is precisely a struggle against error, and that is why it is important to know what the paths of error are. That is why attention had to be drawn just as much to the paths of error as to the paths of truth.

[ 36 ] Perhaps, distinguished guests, these two lectures have helped convey a sense of how real, how genuine the soul’s journey is—the one that leads into the spiritual realms— a sense that, however, can only be felt by those who, free of prejudice, consider what has been outlined here—and which is difficult to convey to those who approach the subject with preconceived notions. Yet one might still say to oneself after such reflections: Many people pass judgment on these spiritual researchers, but from what they say about it, one can see how little they actually know about it. – One can already determine whether the objections are justified or unjustified by asking oneself, in response to what is being said: ‘Does the person in question even know anything at all about what spiritual research aims to achieve?’ Do they know anything about the arduous struggles, about overcoming and redemption, about the sufferings that must be endured? – This should evoke a sense that these matters must by no means be taken lightly by those who must first familiarize themselves with what the soul must experience in order to arrive at the truths of spiritual research.

[ 37 ] Then, however, one may have a peculiar experience: Those who approach the findings of spiritual research with seriousness and dignity are no longer opponents. Perhaps in no other field as much as in spiritual research can one rightly say: Opponents are, in essence, only those who are unfamiliar with the subject. In the field where it is known, there are no longer any opponents. Opponents generally become supporters once they become familiar with the subject. Everyone is free to see this for themselves. From many of the hostile remarks that are made, one can recognize that all this opposition stems precisely from a lack of knowledge about the field of spiritual science. Those who are knowledgeable are no longer opponents.

[ 38 ] In this sense, we can summarize—perhaps not so much what was said the day before yesterday and today, but rather how an attempt was made to present these things. This time, I have deliberately tried to present things entirely in terms of the soul’s experience—as the soul is guided, so to speak, step by step, and what it experiences. In this way, one might perhaps gain a sense of the seriousness of spiritual research. One must first have this sense; then it becomes clear that in the field of spiritual science, more than in any other, a wonderfully beautiful statement by Goethe applies—one that he deeply experienced and spoke from a profound life experience. Because Goethe had advocated various ideas that closely touch upon the field of spiritual science, he encountered opposition that one understands precisely when one is a spiritual scientist. And in the face of this opposition, he condensed his feelings into this brief sentence, which—because it is a wisdom of life, a truth he had attained—is so beautiful precisely in its simplicity that we, too, can express in this sentence what we feel toward the opponents of spiritual science by saying with Goethe:

A false doctrine cannot be refuted, for it is based on the conviction that what is false is true. But the opposite can, may, and must be stated repeatedly.

[ 39 ] Then, if this also happens with regard to the humanities, the humanities will become a part of our intellectual culture, as they must. And even if opposing errors seek to assert themselves, the truth will find its way everywhere in the world, and even if it has to squeeze through narrow crevices on rocky shores—the truth will find its way. We need not worry about what is true. If, through a personal error, we advocate falsehood—we are convinced that this falsehood will do no harm. But if we advocate the truth, then it will find its way through the narrowest crevices in the rock, through which it has always forced its way so that it could take root in the development of humanity. For the earthly evolution of humanity is such that humanity finds its development only in the truth. And with this awareness, one can turn to spiritual science, especially when using it to examine truth and error. Errors are dispelled by the spiritual researcher himself precisely by recognizing them—and the truth will prevail because it must prevail through its own power.