The Rudolf Steiner Archive

6. Human Nature, Talent, and Upbringing

[ 1 ] Ladies and gentlemen! When we seek knowledge through spiritual science, it means that we feel within ourselves the urge to cast a glance into the spiritual world that lies beyond our sensory world—a world in which we can better find the solution to the mysteries of existence than in our sensory surroundings. When we allow the findings of spiritual science to take effect upon our souls, they are—as we have seen in the various lectures I have been privileged to give here—not merely abstract, theoretical insights, but rather nourishment for our souls and forces that sustain us, reveal our destiny to us, give us hope and a sense of security in life, and enable us to recognize that we human beings need these findings of spiritual science in our lives. Through everything that a person sees around them and recognizes to a greater or lesser extent within their own being, they arrive at the spirit that is meant to take root in their understanding.

[ 2 ] Our relationship to the world takes on an entirely different character when our task is not merely to penetrate the spirit through understanding, but rather to draw the living, real, active spirit out of its hiddenness and bring it to the surface—or at least to pave the way for it to emerge from hiddenness and reveal itself. We relate to the world and to life in this way when we have before us the emerging spirit itself in the developing human being—that indeterminate spirituality with which the human being enters into existence through birth and which, at first so indistinct as if coming from an impenetrable darkness, presents itself to us in the still indeterminate features of the human face at the beginning of its earthly existence. There we have before us the human spirit, which rests as if hidden in the depths and asserts itself from week to week, from month to month, from year to year, by permeating the material existence that confronts us from the very beginning in the growing child, and which gradually transforms this material existence into an image of itself.

[ 3 ] As educators striving for knowledge, we are called not only to seek the spirit that rests in the depths for the satisfaction of our own souls, but precisely as educators, we are called to translate everything in the process of knowledge that is still more or less intellectual into reality—to introduce the spirit itself, as something that develops in reality, into life. From this perspective, spiritual science becomes the foundation of a direct way of life in a completely different sense than if it were merely intended to help us understand the mysteries of existence.

[ 4 ] Now, as has already become clear from the lectures I was previously able to give here—and this should serve as a prerequisite, so to speak, today, since we are dealing with a very specific topic—we, on the basis of spiritual science, take into account an inner, spiritual -soul core of the human being—which we not only trace as it moves between birth and death, but which we see entering, through birth, from another world—a supersensible world—into physical-sensory existence, and which we see passing once more into another world when the human being crosses the threshold of death to undergo new stages of development in that other world. Indeed, we do not merely speak of attributing to this spiritual-soul core an existence before birth and an existence after death, but we also attribute to it repeated earthly lives, so that from our present life we look back on many earthly lives we have previously lived through, and look forward to many earthly lives we are yet to live in the future. We must therefore distinguish, within the entirety of a human being’s life, between the periods spent in the physical body between birth and death, and the intervening periods—the times between death and a new birth—during which the human being’s spiritual-soul core resides in purely spiritual-soul worlds and experiences its conditions of existence there. When we view things in this way, we also realize that we must take a different stance toward the developing human being in the physical world than if we were to see the spiritual-soul aspect in its developmental phases between birth and death as influenced solely by the physical-material. When we look in this way at repeated earthly lives and the intervening stages of human spiritual development, we see in the human being who enters existence through birth something like a sacred mystery. We see how the spiritual forces push their way into existence through the indeterminate nature of gesture and physiognomy, through the indeterminate nature of abilities and aptitudes; how they increasingly and more powerfully take root in gesture, physiognomy, and movements, increasingly taking mastery over all that constitutes this human being’s external means of expression and tools, so that, from a spiritual scientific perspective, we see a duality in the human being—even though we ultimately recognize the unity of their nature.

[ 5 ] First, we have the characteristics of his body and soul that he has inherited from his parents and ancestors—in short, from the earlier generations from which he descends. But then we turn our attention to the actual spiritual-soul center of the human being, to his spiritual -soul essence, which initially has nothing to do with the characteristics and facts we encounter in his ancestors, but rather comes over from a previous life of the human being and now merely appropriates the characteristics and traits to be inherited—enveloping itself in them, as it were, in order to express itself through them. We must therefore distinguish between what a human being brings with them from previous lives as the deepest essence of their being, and what they acquire through the line of inheritance. And we can only gain the proper perspective on the developing human being if we seek this interplay between the forces that pass from one life to another and the forces that are directly inherited from parents and ancestors. If we wish to understand this properly, we must first familiarize ourselves with two fundamental characteristics of our soul life, which must appear with full clarity before our spiritual eye if we are to grasp the whole essence of the human being.

[ 6 ] First, there is the important fact that when a human being encounters us as a personality in the world, all the forces within them—the soul faculties, temperament, character traits, impulses of the will, emotions, and so on—interact to form a unified whole. Alongside this, however, we must also acknowledge another important fact: namely, that these fully developed faculties and powers, which we encounter in the human personality, even though they interact, are in a certain sense independent of one another in terms of their predisposition, so that one is not necessarily a prerequisite for the other.

[ 7 ] This becomes immediately clear to us when we look at life and see, for example, how a person might have a very special kind of aptitude—perhaps being musically gifted—but lack even the slightest talent for mathematics or for practical life. Another person, on the other hand, may have no musical aptitude at all, but instead a certain aptitude for practical life or for mathematics. This means that people’s aptitudes and abilities can occur quite independently of one another, but they can also interact with one another. Even at a cursory glance, it is clear that everything a person possesses in terms of abilities, talents, gifts, skills, or physical characteristics points to their parents and ancestors. And we will soon see just how precisely a child’s characteristics point to their parents and ancestors.

[ 8 ] But through birth, that which has nothing to do with heredity also comes into being—that which is carried over from previous lives as the human being’s true spiritual-soul core. This core essence, which eludes direct observation, reveals itself to us when, as true educators, we observe the human being’s development and see him, as it were, emerging from the indeterminate darkness—like a fundamental hue, like a fundamental tone of the entire developing personality. That which enters into existence in such a way that it brings together and groups a person’s abilities, aptitudes, and impulses—as it were, playing with them and forming a whole out of them—cannot be attributed solely to parents and ancestors. While individual human characteristics—let us say, a person’s aptitudes for this or that science or skill—can generally be traced back to this or that trait in their ancestors, we see right from the start that the way in which these abilities, these various forces of the ancestors, are blended within the personality depends on something other than heredity—it depends on the spiritual-soul core of the human being.

[ 9 ] We can say: For example, a person inherits this or that temperament from his father, and from his mother he inherits this or that ability—perhaps the gift of imagination. And now he appears before us as a person with a particular temperament and with the gift of imagination, which are blended together in a certain way. The specific temperament he possesses and his gift for imagination can be traced back to his father or mother. But the way in which these gifts are intermingled, the way they are grouped together—that must be traced back to the spiritual-soul core of his being. And now it becomes clear to us that this spiritual-soul core, before birth, feels as if magnetically drawn to a specific pair of parents—in order, so to speak, to take on certain qualities from one parent and others from the other, which it needs to achieve precisely the blend that corresponds to what it brings over from previous lives. We can specify very precise laws regarding how the spiritual-soul core of the human being blends the inherited traits, how it takes one from the paternal side and another from the maternal side, and how the ratio of this blend is the individual act of the human being entering life.

[ 10 ] If we are to refer here to very specific laws in this regard, then it is necessary to agree that such laws are to be understood in the same way as physical laws. For example, when a physicist teaches us that a stone thrown through the air follows a parabolic path, we can understand this based on the relevant physical conditions. If someone then comes along and fails to consider that this general trajectory can change—say, due to air resistance or other factors—they might say to us: “You have formulated a false law, for the stone does not fly in a parabolic path.” — But for the physicist, the point is not to incorporate the external, modifying circumstances into the law, but rather to derive the law from the essential conditions. We must apply the same principle to laws that govern spiritual life. We must tell ourselves: The laws that appear before our mind’s eye have just as much significance as the laws of physics; therefore, they could be refuted just as easily as the laws of physics, but such a refutation accomplishes nothing of particular significance.

[ 11 ] So if very specific laws of heredity are now developed, there could of course be a myriad of circumstances that influence these laws, just as the trajectory of a flying stone is influenced by air resistance. But these modifying conditions of a secondary nature do not alter the validity of the law. And we can understand the events of the world only if we know how to express the essence of things—in both the physical and spiritual realms—in laws. Our observation of the spiritual world can be just as accurate as it is of the physical world. You can observe in hundreds and thousands of cases that, in the immediate descendants, very specific powers and talents can be traced back to the paternal lineage and very specific characteristics to the maternal lineage; that is to say, the spiritual-soul core of the human being takes very specific powers and talents from the maternal lineage and very specific characteristics from the paternal lineage, which then appear in a blended form in the children.

[ 12 ] We can therefore divide the realm of our inner life into two clearly distinguishable sub-realms. First, within our soul, we have what we might call the realm of our interest, our attention, and our sympathy for this or that. People differ, after all, in terms of what their interest and the sympathy of their soul lead them toward—one person is of one disposition, another of another, depending on the fundamental nature of their interest and the fundamental character traits of their soul. Distinct from this realm of the soul just described is what we might call the intellectual realm, which we also wish to include the imagination—the faculty that gives us the ability to visualize our surroundings and human life itself in images. The gift of imagination, the intellectual gift, constitutes the other realm.

[ 13 ] When we examine the entire inner life of the human being in this way, it becomes clear to us that, in general, the sphere of interest and the overall character of the personality can be traced back to the paternal line of inheritance; that is to say, the core of a person’s mental and emotional being derives primarily from the paternal line of inheritance in terms of temperament, emotions, and passions. That which concerns our intellectual faculties—namely, the flexibility of our concepts, the ability to form specific mental images of the external world, and to bring it to mind through ideas—is generally derived from the maternal hereditary line. The nature and uniqueness of our personality depend on the way in which these two areas are blended within the spiritual-psychic core of the human being. But we must not only consider this very general character of heredity; we must examine it even more deeply and precisely. And there it becomes apparent that human characteristics are not merely inherited in a general sense, but that they are transformed during the process of inheritance—that they undergo very specific changes, and indeed, essential ones. It becomes apparent—and you can find this confirmed in hundreds and thousands of cases—that what lives within the mother as intellectuality, as agility of the soul, as the soul’s inclination toward the processing of ideas, images, concepts, and the like, is more likely to pass on to the son than to the daughter, and usually, in passing on to the son, descends, as it were, one level [into the physical]. Thus, for example, it happens that a certain agility of thought, a special ability to conceive of this or that—perhaps to express it artistically, say, in the realm of poetry—is indeed present in the mother’s soul; yet it remains confined to the narrowest circle of her closest acquaintances and immediate surroundings, and she lacks the proper means—or has not developed them—to apply these abilities outwardly. Thus we can say that although the mother possesses these qualities, she lacks the tools tied to external physicality that would allow her to make full use of what is there and to let it have an effect on humanity.

[ 14 ] If this is the case with the mother, then this predisposition can manifest itself in the son, as it were, fully developed within his personal organ systems—transposed into his physical instruments. The mother may therefore possess this or that psychological predisposition, but not the corresponding organ structure—that is, not the appropriately developed brain or other organ complexes—to truly live out to a greater extent what she is predisposed to do and to make it visible to the world. In the son, the mother’s predisposition is incorporated into his physical constitution—into the brain and other organ systems—so that certain abilities can bear fruit for broader circles of humanity. In contrast, paternal qualities—which lie more in the outer personality and are rooted in the physical constitution—tend to rise to the level of the soul in daughters and present themselves to us there, transformed and refined on a soul level. We can therefore express it as a beautiful law governing the progression of human generational life: the mother’s soul tends to live on in the personal abilities and talents of her sons, while the father’s organ dispositions—the entire configuration of the father’s personality—ascend and live on in the souls of his daughters, or at least have a tendency to do so. The father will thus—down to the structure of his physical personality in external life—continue in the souls of his daughters. The mother’s soul—which remains within a narrower circle and has few opportunities to fully express her soul capacities—will live on in the organ dispositions of her sons, in the organ dispositions that become active in the external world.

[ 15 ] This law, which sheds such tremendous light on our understanding of life, cannot, of course, be illustrated here with hundreds of examples in just one short hour. One can only explain it, just as one does in physics. And I would like to begin by explaining it through the well-known case of Goethe. Who does not know that everything that existed in Goethe as organ potential—enabling him to express it through his brain and other instruments of the organism—was attributed by Goethe himself to his mother’s “love of storytelling,” who, within her own narrow circle, possessed all of this through the agility of her mind and her love of storytelling—only she lacked the organ potential. But what lived in the soul of the old councilwoman flowed down and formed her son’s innate predispositions. We can, of course, trace Goethe’s origins not only to his mother but also to his father, the elderly Frankfurt councilman Caspar Goethe. When we come to know him as the capable, ambitious man he was, we feel, above all, a kind of respect for his thoroughness and, at times, for his quiet resignation. On the other hand, however, we must realize that while all the qualities he possessed did enable him to climb somewhat up the social ladder, they were by no means sufficient to grant him the influence and sphere of activity in Frankfurt that he aspired to, so that he was, in a sense, condemned to a life of idleness.

[ 16 ] There is something of strength and stubbornness in the old Goethe’s disposition, as well as something of sobriety—but a thoroughness within that sobriety—and even a certain harmony between these traits. If we consider these traits of Goethe’s father alongside those of his son, we can easily understand that the two repelled one another in a certain sense. And indeed they did, as is well known. But let us imagine this trait of the father “spiritualized”—if we may coin the term—elevated to the realm of the soul; let us imagine a certain thoroughness of soul, combined once again with that timidity that the elder Goethe possessed—which prevented him from ever really accomplishing anything—coming to life in the soul of his daughter Cornelia: There we can easily find in the soul of the daughter Cornelia a certain softness of character, soulfully blended with a certain stubbornness; a sharp intellect, mixed with a certain indulgence in emotion; the need to surrender herself, to nestle against the world, and yet the inability to truly give herself to anyone. We can almost see the entire life situation of the elderly Goethe—who strove to occupy a position of significance yet was unable to do so—reflected in his daughter’s soul in such a way that she felt the need to nestle against a spouse, yet could find no fulfillment in marriage. We need only translate the character traits that extend into the very structure of the elderly Goethe’s being into the realm of the soul, and we have the entire soul of Goethe’s sister Cornelia. And everything that Goethe found repulsive—that, so to speak, repelled him in his father—was deeply attractive to him in his sister, who complemented him so beautifully during her short life, whom he loved so dearly. Everything paternal had such a soothing effect on the young Goethe through this “spiritualization” by his sister.

[ 17 ] Try to address the same issues in Hebbel’s work. Read his diaries. Try to understand from them—which are, in any case, a treasure of German literature—how Hebbel inherited from his father the entire outward aspect of his character, that is, his way of engaging with the world, but that which led him, from his earliest youth, to strive to be understood points back to his mother’s soul, even though she was only a simple mason’s wife. From a historical perspective, we can observe everywhere that everything we encounter in men’s innate dispositions can be traced back to their mothers. Look at the mother of Alexander the Great, at the mother of the Maccabees, at the mother of the Gracchi—wherever you look—you will see this everywhere. Anyone with an eye for truly delving into human characters will find this confirmed everywhere as a law, just as it is with the laws of physics.

[ 18 ] In spiritual science, we understand this fact to mean that it is precisely the spiritual-soul core of the human being that takes on paternal and maternal qualities, not only blending them but also transforming them, raising or lowering them by one level; that is to say: The qualities in the father that are bound to organ predispositions are “spiritualized” in the daughters, and the soul qualities in the mother that do not yet have organ predispositions are transformed into organ predispositions in the sons. Thus, inheritance does not occur directly, but in such a way that we sometimes see it as concealed or veiled and must only discern how the spiritual-soul core of the human being actually utilizes the qualities it finds in the paternal and maternal lines in order to shape them plastically in accordance with its individuality and to assert them in the world.

[ 19 ] Now, it could easily be the case that if someone were to cobble together their convictions based solely on a few observations of life or on prejudices, they could very easily refute individual statements made by spiritual science. It must therefore be pointed out that only the full scope of a true observation of life can confirm what spiritual science presents as a general cosmic law governing spiritual life. And here, too, we see in life how this spiritual-soul core, so to speak, envelops itself in the inherited qualities that it incorporates and blends with itself. Someone might say: Yes, show us how this spiritual-soul core actually works, how it envelops itself with inherited traits. — The point is that we must follow the correct path in such an illustration. In the individual human being, whom we encounter from birth as a self-contained personality, we see abilities developing. We see a harmonious unity—of course, this need not even be pointed out to us—we see a unity in what gradually takes shape in this or that ability. And one cannot readily distinguish in the individual human being what and to what extent the spiritual-soul core is at work, and what it has appropriated from the outside as physically inherited dispositions.

[ 20 ] But if one broadens the scope of one’s observation of life a bit, if one looks around at life, then one does indeed see how differently people present themselves, depending on whether their spiritual-soul core—as it enters existence at birth—is richer in content, more significant and profound, or less so; whether it possesses a richer substance from previous incarnations, through which it is called to accomplish much for the world in the new incarnation. What will become of such a core of being?

[ 21 ] It will take him a long time to work his way through all the resistance that comes at him from outside, from his hereditary lineage; he will have to chip away at it for a long time, as the external hereditary traits will not immediately align with the core of his being. This is so wonderfully confirmed for us when we see how the great minds of humanity—Newton, Humboldt, or Leibniz—were actually poor students, because their rich spiritual and soul-filled core needed a long time to work its way through and shape that which envelops them and to which they attach themselves. Therefore, someone who views life solely through the lens of prejudice may regard even the greatest individuals as untalented or incompetent, because at first they may even appear foolish—for it takes them a long time to bring their rich spiritual and psychological essence to the fore. But how someone who does not know life judges it is irrelevant; what matters is the truth. Hebbel, after all, made the lovely observation in his diaries about what it would be like if, in a high school class, the teacher were to go through Plato’s works with his students, and the reincarnated Plato himself were among the students—and were the one who understood the least of what the high school teacher presented as his correct understanding and interpretation of Plato, so that the reincarnated Plato would have to stay after school constantly.

[ 22 ] Thus we see the spiritual-soul core of the human being entering into the characteristics inherited from the outside; and we see that, precisely when it is rich, it encounters the greatest resistance, through which it must work its way. Such people sometimes come quite late to properly integrating the externally inherited material tools. Child prodigies rarely possess a rich spiritual-soul core and therefore have less difficulty integrating the externally inherited material. They develop rapidly, but we also know that these abilities, which initially appear surprising, quickly fade and disappear. If one observes life on a broader basis, it becomes apparent how, in one person, what manifests as his entire personality integrates the inherited characteristics into the core of his being in a different way than in another. Indeed, we can once again corroborate and verify this in the case of Goethe.

[ 23 ] I must, however, say something here that might be misunderstood. But anyone who, like me, has studied Goethe intensively and lovingly for over thirty years is surely entitled to utter such heresy. Our understanding of Goethe and our devotion to his greatness need not be compromised if we admit that the core of Goethe’s being only very slowly forced its way into existence through the external physical obstacles. In fact, if we wish to appreciate what Goethe was meant to accomplish—provided we are not burdened by the prejudices of some Goethe scholars—we see that his early works are by no means yet at their full height; and we must acknowledge, with regard to Goethe’s earliest works: This is still the Goethe in the making, who has not yet overcome the external obstacles to his inner essence; what Goethe was actually meant to become is still hidden there. One does not detract from the greatness of the first part of *Faust* by pointing out that this is still the Goethe in the making, that his rich inner essence still lies deep within and must first work its way to the surface.

[ 24 ] However, it is considered today to be a hallmark of truly exalted minds that they have, in a certain sense, a tendency to prefer the early works of poets in literature. One observes this tendency: Yes, we must turn to the poets in their early period; there we find what bubbles up directly from the soul, there we find the essence that truly constitutes their greatness.” — And as for Goethe, there has certainly been no shortage of an audience that says: “Well, old Goethe has grown a bit weak; in the second part of *Faust* he’s no longer at his best—it’s impossible to understand it; the first part of *Faust*, yes, that is full of primal power.” — Those who judge in this way certainly do not consider whether it might perhaps be their own fault, whether they would do better to make an effort to understand a work of this kind, such as the second part of *Faust*, which Goethe wrote at the height of his creative power.

[ 25 ] Goethe took a different view on this matter. He pointed to the first part of *Faust* as a work of his youth, in which the core of his intellectual and spiritual being had not yet come to the fore. Goethe left behind a few lines in which he speaks explicitly about this matter, saying—and he is referring here to the first part of *Faust*:

There they praise Faust,
And whatever else
Rages in my writings,
In their favor;
The old Mick and Mack,
That delights them greatly;
The rabble thinks,
That we’re no longer what we used to be!

[ 26 ] This was Goethe’s own view of such an assessment. In Goethe, we see how, throughout nearly his entire life, the rich core of his soul—which we cannot attribute to hereditary traits—struggles against the opposing elements of heredity and against external forces that press in against it. Year after year, we can observe how the rich core of his soul emerges harmoniously; we see how, during his Italian journey, he becomes increasingly mature and how he becomes completely one with the qualities of his spiritual-soul core.

[ 27 ] A person’s [character] traits manifest themselves in their physical forms as their being develops; the abilities, on the other hand—which are primarily linked to the inner self—can, however, already be strongly evident in youth. Since there is not yet much of an outer shell, any existing talent for music, mathematics, or poetry must already manifest itself at that stage. But when it comes to practical skills for daily life, we know that these—and everything else necessary for navigating the external world—must be acquired only as life progresses. And only finally does the true [spiritual] element—mysticism, the insight into the spiritual world. It then becomes essential not only to be passionate about spiritual realities but also to have developed the abilities and trained the faculties for spiritual vision, thereby achieving harmony between the knowledge of what is manifested externally and what the world experiences and is shaken by at its very core.

[ 28 ] One can already be a follower of a mystic in one’s late youth; one can interpret him, but it is only possible to make one’s own contributions in this field once we have reached middle age. So if one wishes to find within oneself the ability to harmonize with the Universal Spirit of the world, one must already be about forty years old, since this is not possible before then. One must take one’s time; one must first engage in other pursuits, aiming toward becoming a follower of a spiritual world movement and thereby creating harmony between one’s own inner core of being and the organs that are to be developed. Those who do not transgress such laws—which could only be hinted at here—will find their way into life most effectively and will increasingly separate themselves from the forces that lie as obstacles for them in the natural line of inheritance, ultimately overcoming them. Upon further consideration of natural hereditary relationships, we can see that there must be a difference between the children of young spouses and those born of a union that has existed for some time or was formed at an advanced age. Since human beings are in a state of ascending development up to a certain point in their lives, the consequences of the work expended by the inner core of their being become increasingly evident in later life—in their bearing, their physiognomy, that is, in their outer personality. By about the age of twenty, a part of this has already been shaped, but you can perceive that the full influence of the spiritual-soul core has not yet been exerted; rather, a part of it still lies deep within. Only gradually does the true human being fully take shape and thus come to the surface. Only then does he possess a stronger power to pass on his inherited traits to his offspring, because he has now become so much more mature. A spiritual-soul core that seeks to live out its life as independently as possible through its own inner strength will therefore feel magnetically drawn to a youthful father who offers it less resistance; a weaker individuality, on the other hand, will be drawn to an older father whose character is already fully developed. From this perspective, immense mysteries of life begin to be illuminated. Such relationships can, of course, be most clearly demonstrated through typical examples, although the most diverse variations often occur.

[ 29 ] Now let us see how the individual characteristics of the soul can be independent of one another and how they are inherited, and how all these qualities are brought together into a fundamental tone and processed by the spiritual-soul core of the being. Through this core, for example, arrogance can be inherited from the mother and clumsiness from the father, and these traits can be grouped together. Soul qualities disregard some of what the parents have to offer and, in turn, favor other traits. Some convoluted theories of external science are often highly illogical. For example, such theories claim that the roots of genius can be traced to the qualities of preceding generations; whatever remarkable qualities were already present in individual ancestors, they argue, can be seen in the genius who emerged from this line of ancestors, as if gathered and intensified at a focal point. The aim is to demonstrate that no spiritual or psychological core of being exists. However, it is a mistake to assume that favorable traits can simply accumulate and intensify through the medium of natural hereditary relationships. On the contrary, if we are to speak of heredity in this context, the circumstances are such that genius stands at the beginning—not at the end—of a hereditary line. As genius passes through the physical line of inheritance, its outward personal characteristics are merely tinged—just as a person gets wet when they fall into water.

[ 30 ] We can put all of the above into practice by making it the foundation of an educational task that comes our way and allowing it to become a kind of problem of understanding in life. As we have already said, we have a sacred mystery to solve in the human being who is striving toward existence, and we must seek to recognize what all is contained within that which is working its way upward. We must strive to develop a subtle sensitivity in order to observe correctly how the spiritual-soul core of the being breaks free from dark depths; we must pay careful attention to which characteristics of the developing young person relate to the father and which to the mother—in the organ dispositions, in the soul qualities, and in their interaction under the influence of the individuality on the outer forms.

[ 31 ] Although there is a widespread call for individuality these days, it all remains mere rhetoric as long as one cannot address the specifics and their origins. If one fails to do so and, based on this empty rhetoric, attempts to judge and dictate that the child being educated must now do this or that, one will remain very theoretical. Sometimes, however, the educator will not be a match for the individual essence that he is meant to help bring into being. He need not be a match for the pupil, but he must be a match for the task of education. It is necessary to educate a person in such a way that they can step into life independently and become capable of skillfully handling everything. It is not always possible—and it depends on the educator—to gradually and consistently present everything to the pupil in a timely manner based on theoretical observations and considerations; often circumstances intervene that act as obstacles, whether arising from within the family itself or from outside. Moreover, the developing individual is sometimes even better served when this or that is dictated by unavoidable external circumstances, for then—even under such circumstances—the individual enigma is not attempted to be solved through theoretical education; rather, everything that originates from the dark depths of the past, from earlier life experiences, is brought into harmonious interaction with present circumstances.

[ 32 ] In spiritual science, we can not only discover the spiritual for our own fulfillment; spiritual science can also serve as a guide to help the spiritual—which seeks to reveal itself in the growing child—come into being, so that it may find its rightful place in the living interplay among human beings. In this way, we can, in our own modest way, become saviors of human beings—that is, of their spiritual core, which lies behind their outer appearance. With this understanding, spiritual science will penetrate ever more deeply into human life, because it seeks to permeate life with practical goals. We find this in Goethe, in his steadfastness in standing on a secure, inner foundation of life; in him we perceive a spirit that never rests on past achievements but continues to work and bear fruit within us in the future as well, if we allow his words to take their proper effect upon us:

If yesterday is clear and open to you,
You act with strength and freedom today,
You can also hope for a tomorrow
That will be no less happy.

[ 33 ] And we can hope for this not only for ourselves, but also for the people whose intellectual development and spiritual well-being have been entrusted to us as educators.