The Rudolf Steiner Archive

1. Spiritual Science and the Future of Humanity

[ 1 ] The playwright of *Hamlet*, the Danish prince, has him—in reference to a great and significant historical figure—emerge from his gloomy brooding in the Gravedigger scene to speak of the worth of the dead Caesar:

The great Caesar, now dead and turned to clay,
Plugs a hole, perhaps, against the harsh north wind.
Oh, that the earth, before which the world trembled,
Might form a wall against wind and weather.

[ 2 ] It is not surprising that these ideas come to Hamlet in memory of the great Caesar, when the thought could take root in his gloomy mind that of all the body, the human being, of all that which exercised the power of the will, nothing more would remain than a handful of external matter which, broken down into its atoms and dissolved, could be used here or there to “plaster a wall”; yet this very train of thought is quite indicative of the prevailing mood of our time. There is an excellent handbook on physiology—in the sense of our current scientific understanding—by Huxley, which has also been translated into German. Right on one of the first pages, you will find a reference to the words of Hamlet just mentioned to you, but presented in such a way that, in all seriousness, at the end of the “First Lecture,” it is stated:

It is impossible to trace these migrations with any degree of certainty, as they are more varied and extensive than those conceived by the ancient sages who believed in the doctrine of the transmigration of souls; but it is likely that sooner or later some, if not all, of the scattered atoms will be gathered together to form new life forms. The sun’s rays, which penetrate the plant world, combine some of the wandering atoms of carbon dioxide, water, ammonia, and salts to produce plants. Plants are devoured by animals; animals devour one another; humans devour both plants and animals; and so it is quite possible that atoms that once constituted a substantial part of Julius Caesar’s active brain now form part of the composition of Caesar, the Black man in Alabama, or of Caesar, the pet dog of some English household.

[ 3 ] Let us not think so dogmatically or argue with logical reasoning, but rather consider how a nineteenth-century naturalist as distinguished as Huxley could have come to write down such views based on his innermost feelings. Let us no longer ask: What becomes of the physical constituents when the human body turns to dust?—but rather, let us direct our attention to the will embodied in the human being, to his self-conscious “I,” and observe the paths taken by this soul-spiritual aspect, even though human beings otherwise feel compelled to ask not which path the spirit takes, but which the external matter takes.

[ 4 ] We will soon see that it is closely connected to the prevailing spirit of the times—the willingness to win people’s hearts—when they are told that they can become happy, or at least healthy, if they follow certain rules: eating only this or that, bathing in a particular way, dressing according to the principles of health reform, and so on; but they become far more difficult [to win over] when we speak to them about how the spiritual content of ideas, truths, and insights with which we fill our souls [becomes] living forces that harmonize and strengthen our inner being and our entire lives, make us resilient against all possible attacks, and empower us to fulfill our life’s tasks.

[ 5 ] To illustrate this, I would simply like to point out how people turn pale when they feel fear and anxiety, and blush when they feel shame—showing how the psychological affects the physical, and indeed extends even further than is commonly assumed. But if one goes on to point out that the thoughts of a spiritual worldview lift us up to spiritual heights, that [a] proper way of thinking of this kind has a healing effect on people—both spiritually and physically— we encounter strong doubt or outright disbelief among the vast majority of our contemporaries—and in many cases simply because the people of our time have become too intellectually complacent to expend the mental and emotional effort required to work through such views. Both Huxley’s book and the experiences to be had in all areas of life demonstrate in a characteristic way that our age has come to believe only in what is outwardly material and perceptible to the senses. The nineteenth century has brought us these conditions.

[ 6 ] The humanities are far from rejecting the tremendous achievements of the natural sciences, which this century has bequeathed to us along with an almost overwhelming wealth of facts. However, it is necessary to point out that certain concepts have crept into people’s hearts and taken root—they have, so to speak, become fashionable—so that people find it difficult to believe in the spiritual without attempting to imagine it in material terms. As a result, however, humanity faces the threat of spiritual chaos in the near future—a loss of direction regarding the most important matters. I wish to single out just one of these and, for that reason, refer once again to Huxley’s *Physiology*: namely, the concept of life, insofar as it is self-evident and, in a sense, goes without saying. As it is stated [there]:

But in reality, the immediate cause of death is always the cessation of activity in one of three organs: the brain-spinal cord nerve center, the lungs, or the heart.

Thus, a man can be killed instantly by an injury to a part of the brain called the medulla oblongata [...], such as that caused by hanging or a broken neck. Or death can be the immediate result of suffocation caused by strangulation, hanging, or drowning—in other words, by the inhibition of respiratory functions. Or, finally, death occurs immediately when the heart ceases to circulate the blood. These three organs—the brain, the lungs, and the heart—are therefore somewhat fancifully called the “tripod of life.”

Ultimately, however, life rests on only two pillars: the lungs and the heart; for death caused by damage to the brain is always only the indirect consequence of the effect that injury to this organ has on the lungs or the heart. Brain activity ceases when either respiration or circulation stops. But if blood circulation and respiration are maintained artificially, the brain can be removed without causing death.

[ 7 ] So if Huxley believes he can sustain life by these means, there is nothing objectionable to that—subject to certain limitations—but I would like to raise the specific question of whether such a state can truly still be called life. Probably everyone here would decline such a life. Therefore, a statement of this kind in a scientific work that delves deeply into the most fundamental concepts proves that our age has forgotten how to think accurately about concepts such as “life” at all.

[ 8 ] But anyone who considers—as is indeed true—that the thoughts and feelings we predominantly harbor can make the body healthy or sick will also soon realize how difficult it is to carry clear concepts forward into the future. With inadequate concepts in our minds about life and death, about spirit and soul, we are led into a state of mind that soon causes us to doubt everything within ourselves, paralyzes our inner spiritual powers, and prevents us from adequately fulfilling our duties in life; the human soul and spirit will become increasingly desolate, and such a person will ultimately be plunged into powerlessness and despair. The attentive observer foresees that humanity can be led into a dire situation by this path; he can see that the first steps toward this have already been taken in some places, especially when the most advanced science is compatible with concepts that have a downright destructive effect on our soul and spirit—and thus also on our body.

[ 9 ] Alongside this, there is something else at work—namely, a need that is suppressed by a chaos of concepts, yet nevertheless stirs anew in the soul and preoccupies the mind: There is so much talk of development from imperfect states of life to more perfect ones, but precisely where it would be most necessary to speak of these things—when it comes to the human soul—people refuse to believe in it. Yet this human soul has ever-changing needs from one epoch to the next and always seeks to live in more advanced circumstances; the soul of the twelfth century is still different from that of the nineteenth. What matters is not external things, such as schooling and erudition, but rather the different way of life and perspective that develops for the soul from one era to the next.

[ 10 ] Tonight, we can only briefly touch upon the subject of life; it is evident that within the soul of nearly every human being there is a significant need to develop certain things within oneself—in accordance with both emotion and reason—that were accepted on good faith in earlier cultural epochs. In the past, entire eras were far more dominated by certain general judgments, and all souls were generally imbued with the same views. Today, however, there is a growing urge in people’s souls to be independent, to find within themselves the guiding principles regarding moral precepts and judgments of all kinds, and to discover within themselves the foundation and source of existence.

[ 11 ] The problem with our times, however, is that many people allow this need to lie dormant in their souls—either in some respects or entirely. It cannot arise because it is drowned out by the chaos of the hustle and bustle of life; and such people then succumb to a belief in authority—which seems all the more terrifying because it appeals to what is materially intangible—by repeatedly asserting that “science” has established or proven this or that. The vast majority of people cannot follow this up and investigate for themselves how it was established, and that is why the authority of science has grown into a formidable, universal force.

[ 12 ] These two spiritual currents are in conflict with one another. If spiritual science is to establish the proper relationship to these two forces, it must pursue the rigorous goal of enabling human beings to satisfy, in the truest sense, the deep needs awakening within them. I would like to begin by pointing out that in earlier decades, questions concerning the fate of the soul, the origin of humankind, and the sources of all spiritual life were approached quite differently than they are today. To illustrate this, I would like to draw your attention to a leading figure whose unique spiritual constitution, feelings, and sensibilities reflect this. Goethe, whom I have in mind here, said little on the subject without any particular external prompting, but on the occasion of the funeral of Wieland—whom he greatly revered—he spoke to a close friend about his thoughts on the fate of the soul after death. Goethe replied to the question addressed to him:

[Wieland will now] undertake nothing small, nothing unworthy, nothing incompatible with the moral greatness he upheld throughout his entire life. [...] There can never, under any circumstances, be any question of the decline of such lofty spiritual powers; nature never treats its capital so wastefully [...] As for the personal survival of our soul after death, this is how I understand it. It in no way contradicts the many years of observations I have made regarding the nature of our own and all other beings in nature; on the contrary, it even emerges from them with renewed evidential force. How much—or how little—of this personality, incidentally, deserves to endure is another question and a matter we must leave to God.

[ 13 ] Goethe then develops a certain hierarchy of souls—which he calls “monads” here—that makes them suited to various activities; he considers these monads to be immortal and, in their higher stages of development, to play an active role in the evolution of the world system, and he continues:

I am certain that, as you see me here, I have been here a thousand times already, and I hope to return a thousand times more. [...] However, this by no means implies that this limitation of our observations of nature also imposes limits on faith. On the contrary, given the immediacy of divine feelings within us, it can very easily happen that knowledge must appear as a fragmentary whole, especially on a planet that, torn from its entire connection with the sun, renders every single observation incomplete—observations that, for that very reason, are only fully complemented by faith. [...] As soon as one proceeds from the principle that knowledge and faith are not meant to cancel each other out, but rather to complement one another, the right balance will be struck everywhere.

[ 14 ] Goethe truly mastered the natural sciences of his time; he also enriched them with a way of thinking rooted in the spiritual. That is why it is all the more interesting to observe how all these things are reflected in Goethe’s perspective—how, based on all his extensive personal and scientific life experiences, the life of the soul after death might take shape in accordance with his needs—and to see how Goethe, in accordance with his spiritual worldview, stood apart from the modern materialistic worldview that was becoming increasingly established. Thus, it is also up to each individual to form an idea of the spiritual worldview through their entire mental makeup.

[ 15 ] At that time, the worldview of “monism”—which is now widespread and scientifically promoted—was not yet known; people were not yet so anxiously concerned that a gulf might open up between humans and higher animals [...], rather, people believed in this divide in a physical sense, and when they sought to establish it, they thought in deeply materialistic terms [...]. People wanted something materially distinguishable, since they could not reconcile themselves to the idea that something spiritual might serve as the distinguishing factor. So they searched throughout the entire body, in the soft tissues and the skeleton, and found in animals a special intermediate jawbone in the upper jaw that humans apparently did not possess. With this, they believed they had discovered the long-sought, sublime difference between humans and animals, and credulous, materialistically minded people were inclined to accept this without further question. Goethe studied these conditions and found that the intermaxillary bone was present before birth—that is, in the developing human—but that by the time of birth it had gradually fused completely with the adjacent structures. We find further details on this in Goethe’s scientific writings, in which he devotes and defends his discovery against Soemmerring in 1785 and Camper in separate letters, while also emphasizing that the difference between humans and higher animals is not to be found in individual physical characteristics, but in the spiritual aspect that vastly surpasses that of the animal. If we take into account what Goethe—according to Johannes Falk—said on the day of Wieland’s funeral about the soul and spirit, their transformations and fates after death: how he had reflected throughout his long life, and if he now compares what he believes he has found with what is scientifically and sensually observable, then the two merge without contradiction. — At that time, one could still say this as a scholar, as a faithful natural scientist, without finding oneself at odds with the views on the life of the soul in its own particular realm and those concerning the material side of life. Even in the middle of the nineteenth century, this was still the case for a particularly renowned, pioneering naturalist who, more than anyone else, contributed greatly to our understanding of the transformation of animal life forms; yet, in demonstrating their development, he came to the conclusion that:

I believe that all living beings that have ever lived on this Earth are descended from a primordial form into which the Creator breathed life.

[ 16 ] That was Charles Darwin. He, too, was able to turn his gaze unhindered toward the spiritual world without contradicting the findings of his research. It should be noted, however, that while the original English text contains these words, the first German translation and its subsequent editions do not; thus, within such a short time, it was no longer possible to reconcile a view of the spiritual world with Darwinism, which had already been interpreted in a much more radical manner. Thus, we hear and read today in all so-called popular accounts that anyone who still holds fast to the influence of a spiritual world is a fantasist and a fool, since Darwin himself had shown that everything spiritual is a function of the physical. Of course, nothing is easier than refuting spiritual science in this way once one applies this view to reality. If this or that part of the brain becomes diseased, the soul becomes diseased in a certain analogous way; if the brain gradually wears out, the soul is also worn away as a result—thus, the soul is to be conceived as inseparably united with matter as a form of expression. Darwin, after all, has already put an end to the spiritual world—even though this is not the case.

[ 17 ] We live today in an age when it is already a serious quest for truth to make a confession, as Goethe did, and yet to come to terms with science, like Goethe, who was able to maintain the soul as a wholly legitimate reality. Today it seems impossible to reconcile external, material science with a commitment to the spiritual world. Today we live in an age that has amassed an almost overwhelming amount of empirical findings, where it is impossible for the individual to find their way through the ever-more-numerous and increasingly specialized scientific disciplines, where they are completely at a loss to get a clear picture of everything that science has “established,” just as it is difficult to determine for oneself what constitutes an accurate judgment or a sound general perspective on spiritual science.

[ 18 ] So here comes this spiritual science, claiming that it possesses and applies the same way of thinking and logic as any other science today—which does not merely assume that the soul contains the normal powers of cognition used in everyday and scientific life, which, so to speak, every normal person can apply, but also holds fast to the conviction that powers lie dormant in the human soul that can be developed, so that life in the spiritual world will become as evident to the individual as the external, material environment is to the observer endowed with eyes and the other senses.

[ 19 ] Not everyone in life can develop their spiritual eyes and ears and become a spiritual researcher, but not everyone can work in a laboratory, be an astronomer, and so on—not everyone needs to work as a researcher in that way. Only a few can achieve this to a sufficient degree, but they can share it with others, and every person has something within their soul that prevents them from blindly accepting everything they are told; these are: logic and a sound sense of truth. The messages conveyed to him can enlighten a person; he can measure them against life, test them, and gather experience to determine whether they have a healing and uplifting effect there and within himself.

[ 20 ] This is how spiritual science comes into being. In this process, human beings, through the power of their souls, make themselves the instruments of spiritual scientific research. However, the demand that all results be proven with absolute precision for each individual at any time is just as impossible for spiritual science to fulfill as it is for external, material science and its researchers. The latter claim that their science requires absolute objectivity and does not deal with inner, soul-related matters and experiences; but anyone who speaks this way does not understand the true nature of spiritual scientific research.

[ 21 ] When someone, setting aside external impressions, delves into the inner life of the soul, they will first encounter their own inner soul experiences, which are different for each individual; but in reality, the soul gradually takes other paths. The budding spiritual researcher will at first offer his fellow human beings nothing that concerns him alone; he must first develop to the point where he feels that he has now entered, with his “I,” a realm that is entirely new and has nothing to do with his personality as such; only then will his spiritual insights display the same objectivity as, for example, our physical eyes show us that the rose before us is not green but red—just as other healthy eyes can also perceive it. Then, the inner soul experience transforms into complete objectivity; the spiritual researcher feels that his experiences are independent of his subjective feelings, and he has attained a certainty in his clairvoyance from which the results of spiritual research have already been proclaimed here on numerous occasions.

[ 22 ] Our times demand objectivity. We must respect that, but we must first consider its impact on a healthy sense of truth. After all, the entire body of external science speaks clearly; it demands, for our time, the recognition of those results that are obtained through research methods such as those outlined in Ludwig Deinhard’s *The Mystery of Man*, which demonstrates that science, when its methods come somewhat closer to those of spiritual science, does indeed achieve a harmony between external research using its own means and inner exploration through the method of spiritual science. The book shows us the need of our time to draw from the field of spiritual science what is necessary to enable human beings to stand securely in the place they are meant to occupy in life.

[ 23 ] We have suggested that it is the spirit that gives people strength—not a particular place of residence or a specific remedy, but, in the long run, only that worldview that leads into the center of the spirit. The science briefly characterized earlier feels compelled to assume the role that the natural sciences once played for humanity.

[ 24 ] Most of those present know—as spiritual science demonstrates—that a certain concept is true, even though a large portion of the educated world dismisses it with a pitying shrug: namely, reincarnation. It should be remembered that disparaging remarks about it will meet the same fate as the claim made by early natural science that hornets developed from a horse’s carcass without their eggs—as evidenced by scholarly books from the seventeenth and, to some extent, even the eighteenth century, in which such claims were systematically presented, for example, that wasps and so on developed directly from donkey carcasses, and that worms and even fish developed directly from river mud—until Francesco Redi vigorously contradicted this and established the principle: Living things can only descend from living things of the same kind; a view that is generally taken for granted today, not only by Du Bois-Reymond and Virchow, whereas in the seventeenth century Francesco Redi narrowly escaped the fate of Giordano Bruno, for he was considered a serious heretic.

[ 25 ] Today, the scientific view is that when a human being is born, he or she is influenced solely by heredity from his or her ancestral line; however, this is an inaccurate observation. Spiritual science posits the view that what unites as the spiritual-soul aspect with what the father and mother can offer in terms of physical form first develops this further and, in the course of further development, appropriates the necessary resources from the environment. The spiritual-soul aspect, however, can be traced back to earlier incarnations; and just as the living can come only from the living, so the spiritual-soul aspect can arise only from the spiritual-soul aspect. Thus, each person’s present earthly life is also the starting point for later earthly lives, and this is how the independence of the human soul is to be understood. A time will come—and it is not far off—when the abilities of a genius will no longer be attributed solely to his physical ancestors, as Goethe expresses it when he says: “/p”

From my father I inherited my stature,
A serious approach to life,
From my mother, a cheerful disposition
And a love of storytelling.
My forefather was enamored with the fairest of women,
which haunts me now and then;
My female ancestor loved jewelry and gold,
which surely runs through my veins.
If these elements cannot
be separated from the whole,
what part of this little fellow
can be called original?

[ 26 ] People today like to point to the statement that genius does not stand at the beginning but at the end of a series of developments, and that this proves it is inherited. That’s quite a line of reasoning! It should be the other way around, for the circumstances do not at all fit this pattern. Of course, a person acquires physical characteristics just as it is only natural that he gets wet when he falls into water. People then say that the characteristics of, for example, the father remained latent because they did not manifest themselves as they now do in the son, so that this strange theory can be salvaged. A brick falling from a roof also has the latent potential to kill someone; with such strange assumptions, one can prove anything, and the same applies to a predisposition that was not present in the ancestor but has manifested itself in the descendant.

[ 27 ] More sound research has been conducted in the field of lower organisms. There, a poor schoolteacher [monk] in Austrian Silesia [Brno in Moravia] named Mendel, in his experiments to produce plant hybrids, discovered that the expected traits did not appear in the very next generation, but in the one after that. Thus, people used to be just as patient with regard to actual inheritance as they have now generally disregarded it.

[ 28 ] Scientific materialism labels theosophists as fantasists and dualists who understand nothing of monism when they hold the view that the soul uses the powers acquired in its previous life to fashion a suitable body for itself with the material means at its disposal —a view that can also be described as monistic, and indeed a purer form of monism, specifically from the spiritual perspective. While people no longer burn these “twisted minds” of spiritual scientists—we have become too humane for that—they do attempt to expose them to ridicule and destruction by making fun of them. One objection is often raised against the return of the soul, namely, that one cannot remember a past life; one knows nothing about it at all. But a four-year-old child cannot yet do arithmetic either; yet if one leaves it to its development, after ten years it will already be able to do arithmetic.

[ 29 ] The same is true of our recollection of a past life; in this regard, too, we are still only at the beginning of our development. Here, as in many other areas, progress is at least conceivable, until every soul arrives at an understanding of past earthly lives that extends ever further back in time. In this present life, there are brief periods of childhood that one cannot remember; nevertheless, the present “I” already existed back then. You will neither want nor be able to deny this, even though you are unable to recall it. Thus, the possibility or impossibility of your recollection has, in a decisive sense, nothing to do with your actual past existence or with the previous life of your soul.

[ 30 ] But why can’t we remember our past lives on Earth? Our ability to recall events in this present body extends back to the point in development where the “I” becomes self-aware. At the beginning of our earthly life, it has not yet risen into consciousness, but the moment this occurs coincides with the beginning of our capacity for memory. Thus, the “I” forms, so to speak, the outer boundary; consciousness and memory extend only as far as “I”-consciousness is present. But this also gives us the opportunity to work with this “I” in such a way that it transforms from its normal human state into a higher state. We must therefore transcend our present sense of self; this is not easy, and I will cite just one example as a guide.

[ 31 ] We can free our gaze to look backward only if we are able to free it to look toward the future. To that end, we must habitually accept everything that flows toward us from the present with serenity and calm, with equanimity, and worship the providence of the universe without worry. We must remain equally unmoved whether we encounter praise or blame, joy or pain; our soul must stand firm, awaiting everything with serenity—whether it portends life or death, pain or pleasure—while revering the wisdom of the universe’s guidance. If we are truly able to view the future from such a perspective, then the result will be a look back into the past; our vision will then expand first to the immediately preceding life and then to earlier earthly lives.

[ 32 ] Although an expert today can confirm the suggested effect of such exercises—in addition to the much more difficult work that is otherwise required—it is nevertheless easy for others to judge this matter based on mere theory. The initiate, however, who speaks from his own experience, will not allow himself to be deterred by this—provided one is willing to listen to him and assess his statements correctly—just as Francesco Redi was not deterred when he was called a heretic, and just as those who pursue spiritual science in a thorough manner are not bothered when they are called fantasists and people with twisted minds.

[ 33 ] As one delves deeper into the nature of cultural development, one will also come to ask oneself: What is my stance toward the great progress of humanity, especially toward Christianity? People had already been living for many millennia before Christ; on what grounds, then, could those who lived during and after his time claim a privilege to receive the Christ impulse, rather than those who lived before him? Today, humanity has advanced far enough to ask such questions with the full depth of its soul; precisely in our time, when we are learning to think more and more in scientific and historical terms, such questions must arise. This is where spiritual science steps in and says: The same soul has lived through the events before and after the coming of Christ; there is no such objection from the perspective of the spiritual-scientific worldview. It is these same souls that enter the school of life both before and after. These ideas—which in part also reveal our setbacks—will time and again give us courage and strength to face life anew, in which, over sufficiently long periods of time, we can once again recognize our progress.

[ 34 ] Those who have heard me speak on this topic frequently will know in what sense the science of the spirit can take the liberty of speaking about all branches of the external sciences and of evaluating their methods, goals, and progress. Goethe could say of himself that when he let his scientific gaze ascend into lofty spiritual realms, he could still always acknowledge the natural sciences. Spiritual science must always see itself as a catalyst and work in this spirit, so that the gulf between the spiritual and [the] external-materialistic conception of science does not become too wide, but rather so that harmony may gradually emerge—a harmony capable of giving the soul joy and strength, forces that offer the prospect of success and progress.

[ 35 ] When it is emphasized that “only a healthy soul can dwell in a healthy body,” this is to be understood to mean that the healthy soul alone was capable of preparing a healthy body as its dwelling place, but not the other way around. In this way, spiritual science not only eliminates contradictions in theory but also dispels all timidity and [all] spiritual weakness, so that humanity can then grow up healthy and strong to fulfill its tasks. Starting from social interaction, a healthy ascent toward the heights of material and, especially, spiritual development can then begin, as is destined for humanity. Humanity will then become increasingly capable of drawing spiritual mysteries from the spiritual worlds and transferring them into the physical world, thereby enriching life there. The soul, however, is the place where both worlds meet. Humanity can then become and remain strong and healthy if it allows what we can summarize in the following words to flow through its spiritual and physical veins: “It presses upon the human mind, mysteriously from worlds afar”

The abundant wealth of the substance.
It flows into the depths of the soul
From the heights of the universe, rich in meaning
The clarifying light of the spirit.
They come together within the human being
To form a reality of wisdom.