The Rudolf Steiner Archive

15. The Nature of the Human Soul and the Mystery of Death

[ 1 ] When we speak of “spiritual science” today in the sense that will underlie the reflections in this lecture, we are by no means referring to something that is recognized in our time, nor even remotely to anything that is popular. On the contrary, all those habits of thought and modes of perception that have developed among a large portion of our contemporaries have their roots in a realm from which one believes one can see, in everything that this very spiritual science has to bring to light, something that is by no means scientific—in many respects, even merely something that is a daydream or a fantasy. And it must be said that there is no reason whatsoever to be surprised by this fact. Precisely those who are familiar with the entire nature of spiritual science, as it is understood here, and its role in the present, would in fact be surprised if it were able to find a ready ear among our contemporaries. All the great achievements of our time, all the triumphs of knowledge in our time, are rooted in a different realm than that in which spiritual science has its roots. And as true as it is that this very spiritual science fully acknowledges all that the scientific way of thinking has accomplished since the dawn of modern natural science—since the emergence of the Copernican worldview—and as true as it is that spiritual science, and it alone, fully acknowledges and appreciates this, it is nevertheless understandable that many people today believe they can stand on the firm ground of this natural science only if they reject everything that spiritual science pursues—and indeed, as will be outlined in this lecture, based on the same mode of thinking, the same logic, from which natural science itself arises.

[ 2 ] Even if one is not speaking of something popular or widely recognized, one is, on the other hand, speaking of something that is deeply, deeply connected to all the longings of the human heart and soul, to all the great mysteries of existence—questions without answers to which the human soul cannot, in the long run, survive; which do not confront us merely as certain scientific mysteries do, but rather as mysteries that confront us at every hour—one might say—of our existence, indeed at every turn. And although spiritual science covers a vast field—its scope is, so to speak, as vast [as] the entire universe—one must nevertheless say that what it has to investigate within this vast realm of spiritual activity and existence is, first and foremost, condensed into two significant questions of life, which are referred to as questions of destiny and which can be described as the question of death or immortality.

[ 3 ] This question of destiny truly confronts us at every turn. If we only consider how one person enters into existence at birth in such a way that caring hands surround him from the very beginning, so that he grows up to the full development of the abilities and strengths within him, so that one can, in a certain sense, foresee that he will be a useful member of human society. The other person —and as it seems at first, just as the first was without merit, so he is without fault—surrounded from the cradle by circumstances [in which] one can say he will have to wage the bitterest struggles throughout his entire life, have little opportunity to develop his aptitudes and strengths, so that one can say he will become a member of human society of only limited use. Between these two extremes—how many nuances of the question of fate present themselves to the human soul! Unlike some other questions—let us say, scientific questions—which people always formulate precisely, this or that person may not even articulate these questions in clear words; that is not the point; every soul must ask them. And even if it does not ask, “What of fate?”—through its contact with the outside world, it is disposed one way or another, feels happy or dissatisfied, works joyfully, is such that it strides confidently through life, or such that it has cause to weep at every moment. Even if not always explicitly, but rather in whatever state each human soul happens to be in—in the way it presents itself to others, in the way it behaves when it is alone with itself—one can see that, deep down in the soul, unspoken, it is itself a mystery of the human soul.

[ 4 ] And not in the same way as other questions—one encounters the questions of life at every turn. They are not always posed in such a way that they appear scientific. When a person is confronted with the mystery of death, emotions, feelings, and hopes certainly always play a role; without a doubt, all of these factors come into play. The fear of death, the longing for another existence—all of these play a part in the question and in the answer that many people give themselves; and it must be said: Precisely in recent decades, when many of our contemporaries claim they must reject any life after death, quite a few individuals of noble character but whose views have been shaped by materialism, a perspective on the mystery of death that—it must be said—is, at its core, far better and far nobler than many an answer that this or that soul gives itself out of fear of death or out of a longing for life. Many a materialistically minded person rejected any form of life for the human soul once a person has passed through the gates of death. But in doing so, he told himself: What I have cultivated within my soul, what I have nurtured between birth and death, what I have enabled it to achieve—I want to regard all of this in such a way that I silence all egoism, all selfishness, and all self-love and—as my scientific insights require—gladly sacrifice it on the altars of humanity’s general development.

[ 5 ] So [it is] not at all base [to believe] that it is better and more noble not to wish to carry what one has developed in one’s soul through the gates of death, but rather to gladly pass it on to future generations, who can do with it as they please. It is precisely from these feelings—which certainly cannot be described as ignoble—that one can also discern that there is, after all, a scientific perspective on the question of immortality; for if one considers the nature of the human soul with even a little impartiality and without reservation, —everything that a person works toward and cultivates right up to the gates of death—then one encounters a distinctive quality of the human soul that cannot be overlooked when one examines this human soul more closely. One might [ask]: What is the most valuable, the most significant aspect of the human soul? — It is that which is incomparable, that which is ideal, that which shapes this human soul in such a [personal] way that it cannot yield it to any other power, to any other element—this cannot be transferred from the individual human soul to the human race. And it is precisely when viewed impartially that it becomes clear that this would vanish into nothingness if the human soul itself were to vanish into nothingness—[that] something is thus developed that we can only describe as having been worked on throughout an entire human life, [so that it] gains inner strength, becomes richer, and [which] becomes, so to speak, solely for the purpose of [then] vanishing after all. But this contradicts the general economy of nature. Nowhere in the entire world do we see forces of this kind, as it were, coalescing into the highest tension, and then, once the highest tension is reached, suddenly vanishing.

[ 6 ] One thus arrives at a question arising from an admiration of the global economy, independent of any fear of death, of any hope for humanity, and of personal interests—as objectively through the contemplation of the world as one can objectively arrive at such a contemplation through the observation of any other being or thing in the external world. Thus, there is indeed a scientific way to pose the question of immortality. Of course, all that has just been mentioned does not [yet] lead to an answer, but only to the formulation of a question. That is precisely what will be the subject of today’s discussion: that one can arrive at an answer through spiritual scientific research.

[ 7 ] It must be emphasized from the outset that everything a person can observe in the external world—and everything he can learn about this external world through the external sciences—is based on an inner activity that is entirely bound to the organs of the physical body. No one can imagine being able to observe what humans perceive as sensory reality if they had no senses. Yet the fact that the senses fade away with death is an immediate certainty. Likewise, a person can recognize that their ordinary intellect is bound to the brain and thinks and functions in connection with the senses. They must assume that their intellect—their soul activity—is bound to the external physical body and must fade away with death. This is just as true as the fact that our external organs of perception and the external brain also perish. Thus we see how the question comes down to whether a person is capable of becoming aware within themselves of something that is independent of their senses and of their external physicality. And it is impossible to claim from the outset that anything other than that which is independent of external physicality will endure beyond death.

[ 8 ] But do we ever have reason, in ordinary life, to perceive something within our own soul that is independent of our external physicality? Consciously, certainly not at first. But the fact that we must nevertheless assume this at the outset is suggested by our consideration of a transitional state in human life—one that, admittedly, is not always sufficiently observed in everyday life and whose importance is not fully recognized, because people easily overlook what they experience out of habit. And much of this is precisely what leads the researcher deeply into the mysteries of life. What is meant here is what the soul encounters daily: sleep and wakefulness. We need only consider, in a very everyday way, the moment of falling asleep to gain an idea of the nature of sleep. Let it be said from the outset that, of course, a brief evening reflection is not intended to address more recent scientific hypotheses, which would be extraordinarily interesting to examine. There are, of course, extraordinarily interesting reflections on the nature of sleep; and [even if] it could be shown that spiritual scientific reflections do not contradict those of the natural sciences at all, we must nevertheless set them aside [today] and, based solely on spiritual science, [say]: When we consider the moment of falling asleep, we do indeed see how a person’s physicality ceases at the very moment of falling asleep. The person loses the soul’s control over their limbs, which are left to the mercy of gravity; they are surrendered solely to gravity and the other forces of our Earth that are independent of the soul. The person loses the use of their senses; they gradually fall silent; the ebb and flow of desires, drives, and passions, ideas, and ideals recedes into an indefinite darkness; memory falls silent. Now even those who claim, based on their scientific premises, that they cannot think otherwise will say: Stillness is, after all, merely a side effect of physicality. When we have the sleeping human body in bed, this is merely another form of action through which it conjures forth from within itself what we call spiritual life.

[ 9 ] Well, science will always recognize—and, when approached with an open mind, it is already well on its way to doing so—that everything that takes place in the sleeping human body has nothing to do with what ebbs and flows as inner life within the waking soul. It was not only Du Bois-Reymond who fully acknowledged in the 1870s: When we have the sleeping human body before us, it is recognizable to natural science, but the laws within this human body—what emerges from it, [what] speaks within this existence in terms of passions, sensations, drives, and ideas—will never be understood. Rather, one will always fully recognize this: Yes, when one has the sleeping human body before one, all chemical and physical processes take place within this sleeping human body. But no more do thoughts, feelings, passions, and drives arise from this than oxygen or air can emerge from the life processes of nutrition or from the lungs. Just as the air is outside and is taken in by the lungs through the process of breathing and supplied to the human body, so it must be assumed that everything we call soul life leaps into the human being upon awakening—just as air enters through inhalation—and that this has nothing to do with the processes taking place within the sleeping human body.

[ 10 ] Today, in our time, this is merely a finding of the spiritual sciences, but it is precisely in this field that the spiritual sciences will always have the support of the natural sciences. It will recognize that it would be just as absurd to derive the processes of inner soul experience from the body as it is impossible to derive air as an entity from the lungs. This gives us, for the time being, the justification to say from a spiritual-scientific perspective—at least as a hypothesis, though we wish to believe that it will rise to the level of certainty—that: Well, it is indeed the case that the spiritual-soul core of the human being flows out of the person upon falling asleep and enters a purely spiritual world, and upon waking flows back into the human body. This can be logically compared to inhaling and exhaling, except that we inhale a material substance and exhale it quickly, whereas during sleep we inhale a spiritual-soul being. One might call the transitional state between sleep and wakefulness, as it were, a spiritual inhalation and exhalation of the soul—only with far greater intervals than physical inhalation and exhalation. But humanity’s way of thinking will always recognize that it is impossible to derive the soul-spiritual from the physical body. Just as we seek air outside ourselves—since it has its origin outside the organism—so too does the soul-spiritual life have its spiritual origin outside the human body and is taken up by the human body upon waking.

[ 11 ] So we could start by assuming—without going into too much detail at any point—that the human being, with his spiritual and soul nature, exists outside of his physical body. However, we must say—if we can hypothetically assume this—that during sleep, the human being is alone in his soul, separated from the body, but he is unaware of this. Unconsciousness sets in the moment one falls asleep; one is surrounded by darkness and gloom when one passes into the state of sleep. From this, however, it becomes clear what the prerequisite is for recognizing the soul-spiritual. Let us leave it entirely uncertain for now as to what lies outside the human body when a person is in the state of sleep. We can then establish certainty if we are able to consciously bring about the same state that is supposed to occur during sleep: to make the soul-spiritual independent of the physical body, and then not to experience it unconsciously, but to make it active within, even though the soul is outside the physical body. Can this be the case? Is this possible?

[ 12 ] In fact, any possibility of spiritual science actually depends on the answer to this question. And this is what makes people true researchers of the spirit, what helps them to look into the spiritual world, [...] placing them in exactly the same state as when they are asleep, only [now], instead of being unconscious, they are placed in a state of inner consciousness. And the latter occurs through very specific spiritual scientific methods, which are just as much methods as those underlying any chemical experiment in the external world, except that the external methods are those applied with hands or other tools, whereas the only tool through which a person can penetrate the spiritual world is their own soul—[...] there are no methods other than those of the soul—[but only then], when one has mastered these powers [and] transformed them.

[ 13 ] [When] can one master them? Only when one is able to say to oneself: A person is unconscious, inwardly still, and lifeless during sleep because certain forces are so weakly developed that they do not even come to his own consciousness. If a person reaches a state in which forces in his soul—which are otherwise present during sleep but not perceptible—become perceptible, [then he can] bring forth such forces that make him a conscious being when he is independent of his physicality. Then proof is provided through experience [and] it becomes possible to observe that the human soul is also something when it is independent of the physical body.

[ 14 ] So, unless this is meant to be a fanciful claim, there must be a state that is, on the one hand, similar to the state of sleep, and on the other hand, radically different from it. Similar in that the person allows his limbs to be just as inactive as in sleep, allows just as few impressions to reach his senses as in sleep, but through inner volition rejects all the worries and cares of life. A person must be able to bring about such a state within their soul that the soul is independent of the body, as in sleep, and that the body is uninvolved in the life of the soul. But then—and this is radically different from the state of sleep—this soul, having renounced all external stimuli, including all memories, must awaken dormant powers from its own depths through what is called meditation, concentration, and contemplation.

[ 15 ] What is this? These are certain activities of the soul—activities that are not immediately perceptible, but which transform the soul into a being that is, in many respects, new, at least in and of itself. If we wish to form a conception of what meditation, concentration, and contemplation are—practices that every student of the soul must apply to themselves extensively—we must say: In ordinary life, we form concepts, allow ourselves to be inspired by things to form ideas, and retain these ideas in our thoughts. How much would remain in our mental imagery if we had only what comes from the outside? But the spiritual researcher must, through his own volition, withdraw all attention from everything that is of paramount importance in the normal state; and then, when consciousness is completely empty—while in normal life one very easily slips back into sleep—he must, through a stronger development of his will, be able to place a few or a single image, sensation, or impulse of will at the center of his consciousness. Thus, for the spiritual researcher—when he wishes to make his soul an instrument—everything is placed at the center of consciousness through his own volition.

[ 16 ] Now one might say: What matters is not what kind of idea, sensation, or feeling is involved, [but] that one directs one’s entire inner life—which is otherwise scattered among many ideas and impressions—toward a single idea, thereby concentrating and focusing it—that is what matters. Whereas in ordinary life we rush quickly from one idea to the next, we must then allow such an idea to linger in our consciousness for a long time. [By] doing this during a time when the [life of the soul would otherwise] normally shift from one idea to the next, the entire life of the soul strives to concentrate on this one point. And that is what matters. We know that we also draw forces from the external world by exercising them; the living being draws its forces to itself when it exercises them. Here, what matters are the forces that lie in the depths of the human soul and, at most, just beneath the surface of consciousness, but which are now being strained and exerted.

[ 17 ] Generally speaking, it does not matter which concepts one uses, but some are more suitable than others. However, so as not to speak in abstract terms—not merely as a theory—let us immediately turn our attention to concrete examples. In general, one does not make much progress in preparing the soul in spiritual research by taking just any concept; rather, one makes the most progress when taking so-called symbolic, pictorial concepts—pictorial concepts. Now, those of a materialistic disposition in particular might very easily say that these have no value, since they do not express anything external. But what matters is not at all what they depict, or whether they have value in relation to this or that external thing, but rather what effect this image has on the soul as a result of the soul concentrating its power solely upon it.

[ 18 ] Here’s an example [that] might sound completely crazy at first: [Imagine] two glasses—the first contains water, the other does not. By pouring the water from the first into the second, the amount of water in the first increases, not decreases]. The point is that this image can serve as a meaningful metaphor for a life process, a process that permeates everything in life: the power of love. As crazy as this idea may seem, one can still say: There is something in human life that essentially works just like this metaphor. A person who, out of the very deepest impulses of their soul, consistently performs such acts of love—their soul does not become poorer as a result, but rather grows richer and richer. This relationship between love and the human soul can be symbolically expressed through this otherwise completely nonsensical idea.

[ 19 ] Now one can arrange one’s consciousness in such a way that one has this sensation in the background, which lends warmth to the image, [so] that the soul is permeated by warmth; furthermore, [one must] deliberately turn one’s attention away from all external life—as one otherwise does only in sleep—and then direct all the soul’s power toward this single image when performing such exercises. When one performs such exercises—how to apply them can be found in my book *How Does One Attain Knowledge of the Higher Worlds?*. It describes how to perform such exercises, how a person can draw upon those inner resources within their soul through which they can truly, little by little, come to exclude everything else except meditation. And if one has the patience and perseverance to cultivate and train one’s inner soul life in such a way that one performs these exercises in concentration and meditation again and again, then one will become aware that something does indeed appear in one’s soul of which one previously knew nothing at all. Before, there were only the states of sleep and wakefulness; now there is a new state of the soul that arises just as the moment of falling asleep does—only voluntarily; it occurs when the body is surrendered to its own conditions, to its heaviness; when we reject all thoughts, everything that is otherwise stimulated from the outside; when only what we will is present in the soul; and when, through concentration, we draw forth from the soul the powers that otherwise remain untrained. Then we sense that we are like a sleeping person, but not unconscious, rather inwardly active. And we recognize this—if we have progressed that far as researchers of the spirit—by the fact that we see a certain moment arrive [when] we no longer have to conjure up images before our soul through our own will, but have now reached the point where they spring up of their own accord, appear of their own accord.

[ 20 ] Then, gradually, a state arises in which a completely new worldview—a picture full of diversity that we had not known before—unfolds before the soul. Just as in the morning, before the sun [rises], the dawn first appears on the clouds, so a world of forms and impressions appears [to us]. Because we have strengthened [within ourselves] what was previously weak, and through inner activity have brought about the state in which our soul now perceives something entirely new that was previously imperceptible; because it has become active, [it] faces a new world; just as one can only face the world of colors and light if one has eyes, so one now faces a new world because one has now created organs for it within oneself.

[ 21 ] It is indeed the case now that—[it should be noted] for those who lightly raise objections to such faculties of the soul—one is reminded of the words of the great philosopher Fichte, [who] said in 1811 and 1813:

Imagine a world of people born blind, who therefore know only the things and their properties that exist through the sense of touch. Go among them and speak to them of colors and the other properties that exist for the eye only through light. Either you are speaking to them of nothing—and this is the more fortunate outcome, if they say so—for in this way you will soon realize your mistake and, if you are unable to open their eyes, cease your futile talk. [...] Or, for some reason, they wish to make sense of your teaching: In that case, they can understand it only in terms of what is known to them through touch: They will want to feel the light and the colors and the other conditions of visibility; they will imagine they are feeling them, and within that sensation they will fabricate and invent something they call color. Then they will misunderstand, distort, and misinterpret. [...]

This teaching presupposes a new and special sense, an instrument of the senses.

[ 22 ] This world [is] not yet the world of the researchers of the spirit, but for him it was the stage of spiritual research he had already reached; there he was [aware] that, without faculties, he was speaking of “nothing,” of daydreaming, and that is why he says one must presuppose a world of those born [blind]. Thus, Fichte argued, the task at hand is to create a new organ of the soul.

[ 23 ] But only [the spiritual researcher] is capable of transforming the soul into such an organ through the methods described. And one must now say: Once he has reached this point, the most difficult part begins for him—that which must be observed with the utmost care. For now he is truly in a new world. Anyone with a materialistic mindset will say—and rightly so from their point of view—that the spiritual researcher can understand all of this, whereas his opponent cannot—that such images also occur in a diseased soul, in hallucinations, visions, and delusions; not outwardly, of course, but all the more so inwardly. [...] The fact that [the spiritual researcher’s inner perception] differs from the delusional world of an unhealthy soul is precisely the point: that he [sees] something different from what emerges from the unhealthy soul. In the case of delusions, visions, and hallucinations, the essential point—as we know all too well to our sorrow—is that the person in question has such an unshakable belief in them that they regard them as a new world, as an objective world. And perhaps many of you know that it is easier to dissuade some who suffer in this way from what they see with their own eyes than from their hallucinations, delusions, and the like; that some invent strict logical systems to justify these delusions in a strictly logical manner. For the researcher of the human spirit, however, the important thing is to answer the question: Why is this so? Why do they regard images—which are merely reflections of their own soul—as objective reality?

[ 24 ] If one attempts to find an answer from the perspective of a researcher of the soul, one arrives at something that is not usually taken as seriously in ordinary observations of human behavior as it ought to be. In truth, this is rooted in self-centeredness—one might say, self-love; we just must not view it as we do in everyday life. In everyday life, selfishness is self-love; but we know that there are certain degrees of it, and that because these are qualities of the soul, they can be overcome. External natural phenomena are different from what lies within the soul. [When it comes to] lightning and thunder, one cannot fight against them in the same way one fights against self-love when it arises in the soul, when it tempts us. We cannot command the lightning to stop, nor can we forbid the thunder from rolling or being heard. We have control over the inner world, but not over the outer world. But because the diseased soul sees reflections of its own nature before it, such inner realities are elevated to the status of necessity, so that they then stand as facts of nature; one is powerless against them, just as against the flash of lightning. This is the peculiarity: that everything which, arising from self-love and self-centeredness, becomes an inner activity of the soul, stands as a fact of nature.

[ 25 ] The proper training of the spiritual researcher must now lead him not only to overcome inner restlessness, but also—precisely when he has reached this point—to be able to conquer the now-intensified selfishness, that which conjures up an “objective” world for us. This is the most important point in his development. Everything he has done before must be overcome, [in the sense] described in my book *How to Attain Knowledge of the Higher Worlds*. Alongside this, the spiritual researcher must have undergone such self-discipline that he not only knows: This world of images that appears on the horizon of his consciousness is nothing other than a reflection of his own soul; not only must he know this, but he must have trained his soul to such an extent that he is able to dispel and erase these images at any time. This requires great self-discipline, which in turn acts like a force of nature. For just consider, my esteemed audience, what this means: first, all the intense efforts to make the soul so alive within that a new world appears to it, and then, after having made every possible effort, being able to erase that world once more. Practical experience shows that this is one of the soul’s acts of self-mastery, because in ordinary life one simply never needs to bring about what has just been described. One can erase this world, and through self-mastery—through constant self-mastery—one is able to erase it down to a certain remnant—that cannot be erased; it remains. What is this remnant? One only truly comes to know it once one has reached this point. For the spiritual researcher, having done all this up to this stage, something now occurs that ranks among the most shattering experiences the human soul can possibly undergo. Those who have been aware of this in the course of human development have coined a term that only those who have reached this point can understand. This term is: “Reaching the threshold of death”—I have attempted to characterize it in my work *A Path to Self-Knowledge for Humanity*. It can occur in a hundred or a thousand different ways for the human soul, but it [always] has a certain characteristic quality. It may be that at a certain moment, after having practiced such exercises for long enough—and “long” means very different things for different people, whether in this life or later—a moment [arrives when] one wakes up in the middle of sleep or, even in daily life, in the midst of one’s activities, [and] one experiences this moment as follows: In a sense, one has everything—which one has hitherto referred to as one’s self, one’s own personality, oneself, as a human being—externally beside oneself. One feels as if one had truly stepped out of one’s body while asleep, and everything that constitutes the ordinary phenomena of daily life had gone along with one. [One has] one’s own being beside oneself like another being; it is not a feeling, [one has] the sensation: Something has passed through one like a bolt of lightning that has struck and taken away what one has hitherto called one’s self, one’s own being. One now learns to approach the threshold of death—not yet death itself, because one first recognizes it in an image. [There stands] what one faces when one has passed through the gate of death, everything one must relinquish when one passes through the gate of death. One learns what it means to speak merely “you” to that which one has until now addressed as “I.”

[ 26 ] At the same time, something now occurs—and the spiritual researcher must be able to reach this point, to maintain self-control in this moment—which can be characterized roughly as follows: The person has the feeling that all the perceptions on which you have relied up to now are now outside of you; you are indeed now conscious within your soul, with inner liveliness, but there is nothing beside you. — One now lives as if standing over an abyss; all supports have now been withdrawn, everything has vanished—only the abyss and emptiness remain. The feeling that arises here is akin—very, very akin—to that of fear, but a fear that arises in the soul with the force of a natural phenomenon; it is no longer a quality of the soul, but rather like lightning and thunder, over which one has no control. That is why one trains oneself so that, when this fear arises, one is at the same time able to overcome it. For the paths of spiritual research are not merely theoretical and practical teachings, but victory over life, overcoming life. And one overcomes what arises as fear of the void. And then one becomes all the more aware: what remains as a remnant and what cannot be eradicated—that is actually who you are; that is your true essence. The rest is cast aside. But what you are now experiencing is that which you bring with you when you [enter] the physical world through birth or, let us say, conception, and which departs again when you pass through the gate of death.

[ 27 ] One thus comes to know oneself inwardly, and this is connected to something else as well. At the very moment when one has experienced oneself in this way—when everything that had hitherto been the reality of the world has been left behind—at that very moment the real world appears: spiritual beings and realities. And in relation to this world, there is a different kind of certainty than there is in relation to the unhealthy soul—the certainty of life: the ability to distinguish the reality of spiritual facts and entities from the fantasies and mere imaginings of the unhealthy soul, just as one can distinguish reality from mere imagination in the physical world. Schopenhauer attempted, to some extent, to [mislead] people [in the way he] conceived of the world as a representation, even if [by this] he meant something else. [...] If one imagines placing a piece of iron [heated] to 90 degrees Celsius [...] against one’s face, [then] that [merely imagined piece of iron] does not burn, [whereas a real hot piece of iron would indeed burn us]. There is no other proof of reality than the proof provided by life; and this proof holds true. Nothing can be proven against Kant’s proposition that ten possible talers contain no more than ten real talers. But there is, after all, a considerable difference: one can hardly pay off debts with ten possible talers, whereas one can do so with real talers. When this was said during a lecture, an objection was raised: Yes, but if life is the only proof of the spiritual world, then one must remember that some people possess such a power of selfishness that [gap in the transcript]. That someone can have the taste of lemonade on their tongue simply by thinking about it—without letting it flow down their throat—is possible; that cannot be denied. But the “proof through life” is not fully realized: One can have the taste of lemonade, but it does not quench one’s thirst. One must always follow the proof of life through to its conclusion. And just as there is only the proof of life to demonstrate that something is real—and just as this proof of life is sufficient—so it is also the case with regard to the facts and entities of the supersensible world into which the spiritual researcher enters. There, in fact, he enters a world that reveals to him spiritual beings who stand spiritually beside him, just as he then stands spiritually beside these beings—beings who are not physically visible in the sensory world but, like him, exist in a state he experiences once he has passed through the gate of death.

[ 28 ] I have shown you how the nature of the human being is such that it cannot be recognized through ordinary self-observation, but only by first immersing oneself in inner activity and then becoming aware of oneself after, as it were, awakening to a new state of being: This new essence is the very same that passes through birth and existence and passes out again through death. This life is nothing but a school and a labor. This soul is a sum of forces that we also see at work in human beings in other ways, but only externally. When a human being steps into existence through birth, the facial features of such a human being entering human life are still undefined; they become increasingly defined as one soul force after another works its way to the surface from that inner core of being, to which we are now drawing ever closer: that which the spiritual researcher must now perceive once the soul has reached the point of recognizing itself in its true essence. For the spiritual researcher recognizes that what the father and mother have given unites with the spiritual-soul core—which comes from the spiritual world—and unites with what comes from the father and mother. Especially in the early years, [this spiritual-soul aspect] works most intensely to shape the physical body. What the spiritual researcher learns to recognize—that which enters into existence through birth—[is] what we see at work here; but when, through the processes described, he learns to recognize what he actually possesses within himself, then he comes to know within himself that which works in from the outside between sleep and wakefulness, that which replenishes the expended forces: soul forces; he comes to know the spiritual-soul core of the human being. As a result, the spiritual researcher finds himself in a situation similar to that of the natural scientist not so long ago, in the seventeenth century. [In] river mud, [it was still thought at that time,] lower animals—even warm-blooded ones and fish—arise through the internal activity of the river mud itself; [it was Francesco] Redi [who proved that people had] observed inaccurately; precise observation reveals that [these] arose because a germ [was present] in the river mud. Life [arises] only from life; [this was] first scientifically articulated in the seventeenth century. At that time, such opposition [arose], [since this stood] in contrast [to the prevailing doctrine of the time], [that Redi] only narrowly escaped the fate of Giordano Bruno [is]. Today’s fashion [has] changed; it is not more tolerant, but more self-pitying—burning people is no longer the custom today, whereas back then people were burned—but in a certain inner sense, the matter has remained the same. Back then [there was] the greatest possible opposition; today the spiritual researcher comes along and shows: [It is] a mistake to believe that the qualities and powers of the soul come solely from the hereditary line—from father and mother, from grandfather and grandmother, and so on; in doing so, you are making an observation just as inaccurate as the notion that lower animals arise from river mud [arise]. Rather, you must recognize that a spiritual-soul core must have existed from earlier times, which takes hold of the physical characteristics just as [the] germs do in river mud. The spiritual-soul [originates] only from the spiritual-soul.

[ 29 ] And when one then delves more deeply into the nature of the human being, one arrives at the conclusion—if I should have the honor of speaking before you more often, this can certainly be elaborated upon—that one comes to recognize this spiritual-soul core in such a way that it reveals itself as the repetition of earlier earthly lives. Just as the germ repeats the species-essence even in the outer physical body, so the core of our being is the ideal, and the present life is so bound to past lives that, with the help of spiritual research, we come to recognize: what comes into being through birth we have [achieved] through a series of earlier earthly lives. We take it with us through the gate of death, then live a purely spiritual life with the powers we have acquired—powers that do not vanish into nothingness—and use them to fashion a new life, and so on, time and again. This is simply the consequence of the principle that the spiritual-soul aspect comes only from the spiritual-soul aspect—not from another human being, but only from oneself, because it is ideal; that is, it arises from one’s previous earthly lives. Just as [back then with] Redi, so [too] today there is opposition to the doctrine of repeated earthly lives. [It is] always the case: at first [it seems] absurd, ridiculous; after some time, self-evident. And just as it is acknowledged from Haeckel to Du Bois-Reymond that the living arises only from the living, so it will later be acknowledged that the spiritual-soul aspect originates only from the spiritual-soul aspect; because it is bound to the individual, not to the species. True research, then, naturally arises only from genuine spiritual research. But then we will have before us the solution to the riddle of fate. The mystery of fate—[what does it consist of]? We are endowed with certain forces that we have developed in previous earthly lives; [we suffer] blows of fate to which we have condemned ourselves in previous lives, [in such a way] that we have been drawn to those events that correspond precisely to what we have created for ourselves in previous lives. And if this is found cruel, if it is then said: Then [one must] not only [endure] fate, but [one is said to] have even deserved it oneself—then it must be countered that [one must] only see it in the right light; then it appears at the same time as something else. [Let’s take a] comparison: [An] eighteen-year-old man, [who lives] in abundance on his father’s money, [is struck by the misfortune that the family fortune is lost. He must work and gradually becomes a capable person. ... At the age of fifty, he says to himself:] For my father, it may have been a painful fate, but for me it was a condition of my present perfection; otherwise, I would not have become the person I am now, nor would I be in a position to judge fate as unjust. – In a previous life, [one predisposes oneself to] imperfections that can only be compensated for by [overcoming] this fate. Then [one] becomes strong in spirit; then fate finds not only its rational explanation but also its great redemptive aspect, for through this [we see] [how] humanity [progresses] in a continuous development from life to life, and [how] fate [is] composed of cause and effect.

[ 30 ] Today, people often ask: Did the Earth ever have a beginning? We find another answer. The question of destiny will truly be resolved for human beings when repeated earthly lives are recognized within the flow of human destiny. And what we call eternity, immortal existence, [we experience] by placing ourselves entirely within the supersensible view of the world.

[ 31 ] [Let’s take another comparison: Just as we can] observe the plant [as it] develops [from leaf to leaf], [to] a flower, then [to] a seed, in which the life forces are so concentrated that they already contain the guarantee for the emergence of a plant the following year—so let us [also] consider a human being who is constantly acquiring strength [and] carries this seed of life within himself through the gate of death, by carrying it within himself, just as truly as the plant carries the seed of life within itself. This [provides] the assurance that he builds a life, just as the seed [of the plant] builds life anew. [One cannot really] speak of immortality in general terms, but [it is] composed of individual lives, [which carry] the seeds of the next life [within them]. Likewise, [one] life follows another, just as one plant follows another. Certainly, my esteemed audience, if one approaches these matters with the habits of life and thought of our time, the opposition is understandable, as is the fact that many dismiss this as fanciful and dreamlike. But it is the same here as with all great truths. Schopenhauer [says of] the poor truth:

Throughout the centuries, poor Truth has had to blush at the fact that she was paradoxical; and yet it is not her fault. It cannot take on the form of universal error enthroned. So it looks up with a sigh to its patron god, Time, who beckons victory and glory, but whose wingbeats are so vast and slow that the individual dies before they arrive.

[ 32 ] That is true. But many people should realize—[I can only outline this] briefly today—that anyone who becomes acquainted with the literature of spiritual science, anyone who delves into it, might then conclude that there is not the slightest contradiction with natural science. Only those who see the truth in the habits of scientific thinking believe that. Anyone who says that heredity is a scientific fact—and that this simply contradicts what past earthly lives reveal—[overlooks] that these things do not contradict one another at all. [Let’s take an example]. If there is one person standing before us, and a second person: [One] lives because there is air outside and lungs inside. No, [one might say, that is not true, for the other lives because he] hanged himself, [but was cut loose in time] and saved. Is one of these true and the other false, or are both true? That is how things are: What is true is heredity, and just as true as this [previously mentioned] scientific fact—that we live because there is air outside and lungs inside—but it is equally true that these hereditary facts exist because the reasons [why a human being incarnates into this stream of heredity] lie in earlier earthly lives.

[ 33 ] Anyone who engages with spiritual science will see that spiritual science itself is very well aware of these objections, and that some people raise them only because they are not yet familiar with them. But as spiritual science gradually becomes known—not merely as a theory or an abstract discipline, but as something that can flow into the human soul like an elixir of life—[then all this will become clear], and [one should] not assume that one must be a spiritual researcher to understand it; one can only investigate these things if one is a spiritual researcher, but once they have been distilled into concepts accessible to the physical mind, anyone can understand the spiritual researcher today, as is [also] described in *How Does One Attain Knowledge of the Higher Worlds?*. But these things are like what arises beneath the earth and what is illuminated by the sun on the earth’s surface. [When] a mine is excavated [and then] bathed in sunlight, [it is] just as it is with the achievements of spiritual science. [One must] be a spiritual researcher to ascend into the spiritual worlds, [to] recognize the beings [who] live there, [to] see what is happening there. But once [they] have been explored, then [one can illuminate them] just as the sun illuminates [what] can arise through them—the treasures of the mine—and then, through the influence of sunlight, one recognizes them, sees them for the first time in all their subtle nuances, and [can] take them in through the perceptions and feelings of the physical mind. Whether it is the spiritual researcher or [the one] who merely comprehends them—once [the spiritual insights] are absorbed, they become an elixir of life, for then we not only know of immortality but also become aware of the life of the soul within us that continues through death; that [life of the soul] is strengthened [in the same way] that a plant must feel when the seedling grows [and it] knows: Next summer [it] will reappear in the same form. Invisible vitality and certainty of life [emanate from] what is gained through spiritual science. Through this, [it gives a person] the grounding that the question is answered not merely theoretically, but practically—as a life force and assurance of life—so that he possesses what he needs in life: security and strength for his work, hope, and confidence in the core of his being, which no external force can shatter. Fichte [says]:

I boldly lift my head toward the looming mountain range, toward the raging waterfall, and toward the crashing clouds swimming in a sea of fire, and say: I am eternal and defy your power. Let it all come crashing down upon me—you, Earth, and you, Heaven—mix together in wild turmoil, and all you elements—foam and rage and grind to dust in savage battle the last speck of solar dust that is the body I call my own; – my will alone, with its steadfast plan, shall hover boldly and coldly above the ruins of the universe; for I have seized my destiny, and it is more enduring than you; it is eternal, and I am eternal, like it.

[ 34 ] This is what the soul [also] says when it has embraced spiritual science, [when it] has [gained] inner stability from it. And it will always need that stability, but then it will also have it. [The] truth [penetrates] through thin cracks and fissures; [it] finds its way through them. So [it is also with] spiritual science. And whoever has it—who has grasped its essence—knows of its certain existence in such a way that he can live with a sense of certainty in life; and [he] then stands before opponents who deny the immortality of the soul and so on, just as Goethe’s saying stands against opposing views that he [Goethe] considered nonsensical, against philosophical views—for there is, in fact, the philosophical view, dating back to ancient Greece, [that there is] no movement, [since the shot] arrow [at every moment of its flight] is always in one place, that is, always at rest; [therefore] there is actually no motion, because [it] is always in one place. This can be proven strictly by reason. But Goethe set [the] certainty of life against rational proof. He expressed this [as follows], not particularly profoundly, but certainly:

You may spot something hostile,
Stay calm, stay silent;
And if they deny you the freedom to move,
Go right under their noses.

[ 35 ] Goethe believed he had thereby provided the proof; it is a proof of life. The spiritual scientist can, without being in the least offensive, say a word in which we might summarize this evening’s reflections—not theoretically, but intuitively—as a certainty in the face of what they deny. To those who are inwardly moved by what spiritual science has to offer, one can say:

Hostile things may happen,
But you, remain calm, stay cheerful,
And if they deny you your sanity,
Don’t dwell on it any further,
Indeed, in the end, you might even agree with them:
Perhaps their own sanity is in a sorry state.