The Rudolf Steiner Archive

19. Theosophy and Antisophy

[ 1 ] The last time I had the opportunity to speak here a few weeks ago about the science of the spirit, I attempted to outline the general character and nature of research in this field and to point out to what extent this science of the spirit is not only fully in harmony with scientific research and its discoveries, but that, through the perspectives that scientific research has opened up for our general worldview, it must—as a spiritual science—necessarily align itself with the goals of our time and be incorporated into those goals.

[ 2 ] This evening, I will take the liberty of speaking about the state of mind that can give rise to opposition and hostility toward this spiritual science. However, so that we may understand one another—and so that those among our esteemed audience today who were not present at the last lecture may also follow my remarks—please allow me to begin by briefly summarizing the subject of the last lecture and outlining the general nature of spiritual science.

[ 3 ] Just as it is true that, on the one hand, spiritual science serves as a kind of continuation of scientific thinking and the scientific worldview—but applied to the spiritual realm—so it is true, on the other hand, that this spiritual science, precisely because it extends into the realm of spiritual life, the spirit, and spiritual beings, requires different research methods and a different kind of worldview than the natural sciences, which are directed toward external, material existence. The natural scientist uses external instruments and external methods of observation for his research and to arrive at his results. In a sense, he has before him what the objects of his research provide and what the laws of his research enable him to discover. The spiritual researcher is different: he must find a connection to a world that, while lying at the foundation of all external reality as the source—the spiritual source—of our existence, nevertheless eludes the senses and even the intellect, which relies on the data of the senses and on external perception. The spiritual researcher must penetrate a realm that, at first, does not exist at all for external perception or external observation. And the only instrument initially available to him—in the sense of true spiritual science—to penetrate the spiritual world is his own soul.

[ 4 ] However, this soul of our own—as it first appears in everyday life and also to external science—is not suited to entering the spiritual world. This human soul is so constituted for external life that it must make use of the organs, the instruments of the body. Through the sense organs and through the intellect, which is bound to the brain, the external world becomes accessible to it. The fact that the senses—and also the intellect, which is bound to the brain—can only penetrate physical-sensory existence was explained in more detail here last time, so we will not concern ourselves with it today.

[ 5 ] To begin with, we should consider that the human soul, as it exists in everyday life, must be transformed in order to enter the spiritual world. It must first become that which enables it to enter the spiritual world, and it can become so only through the human being’s own efforts. And it is not external processes, nor experiences that take place in the physical world, that can advance the soul so that it can enter the realm of the spirit; rather, it is only the intimate, inner processes of the soul itself. These consist essentially in the soul practicing concentration of thought and meditation—as these things are called. You will find a more detailed explanation in my book *How Does One Gain Insights into the Higher Worlds?*

[ 6 ] When, under certain conditions, the soul erases within itself—wipes out within itself—the perceptions derived from the senses and from the thinking of the ordinary intellect, yet remains self-aware as a soul, it is in the state in which it gradually develops into the spiritual world. One can compare this state to the ordinary state of human sleep. When, as a person falls asleep, the ordinary senses gradually fall silent, and ordinary thinking, along with the ordinary impulses of imagination, feeling, and will, cease, then the human soul is indeed in a state where it no longer uses its body as an instrument. But at the same time, it becomes unconscious. The darkness of unconsciousness spreads around it. Everything that is silent during sleep must also be silent within the spiritual researcher. But through the inner strengthening of the soul’s life—by the spiritual researcher energetically and patiently, over many years, repeatedly focusing the soul’s activity, even if only for a short time, even for just a few minutes, on specific images—you will find further details in the book *How Does One Attain Knowledge of the Higher Worlds?* — through this, the soul is enabled to draw itself together in inner strength so that it can develop a life that is not mediated by the body or by the sense organs.

[ 7 ] It is indeed possible to bring the soul into the same state in which it is otherwise found only during normal sleep, but this state differs from normal sleep in that one is awake, even though one does not think or perceive as one does in the ordinary waking state. One can detach this soul—the term has already been used here—from the body, as it were, through spiritual chemistry. If one intensifies one’s thinking and feeling in an appropriate manner, if one makes them ever more powerful, one achieves within the instrument of one’s own human being something comparable to the separation of hydrogen from water in physical chemistry—and just as water reveals nothing of the properties of hydrogen as such, so too does the human being, when confronted with everyday life, reveal nothing of the actual properties of his soul.

[ 8 ] But when this soul gains strength through the corresponding strengthening of its inner powers, it comes to experience itself outside its body—not in a state of unconsciousness, but with full awareness—so that its own body and its other everyday circumstances, its everyday experiences, appear to it just as the external world does. Just as a table or a chair is an object, so too can one’s own body stand before the soul that has been powerfully strengthened. It pushes itself out of the body through the increased strength it gains through meditation and concentration—as these exercises for strengthening the soul are called. Thus, when our soul is strengthened, we can look inward; we see, as it were, ourselves in the world, but our soul is outside the body—a state made entirely vivid by the method that truly enables the soul to step out of the body.

[ 9 ] Essentially, every possibility of entering the spiritual world is based on the fact that the human soul can become alive and perceptive outside the body. The fact that this soul, outside its body, can experience and perceive through the method of spiritual science is also, in essence, the most rigorous proof of the soul’s independence. One could deny that the soul is anything apart from the body, for example, when a person is asleep. One could say that the soul is nothing other than what arises through the machinery of the body; when the machinery of the body comes to a standstill, no manifestations of life are evident. One could claim that when the machinery of the body comes to a standstill in death, all soul activity ceases.

[ 10 ] But if spiritual science demonstrates that the soul can experience and perceive itself when it is outside the body, when it has the body before it, then this simultaneously provides proof of the soul’s independence. This proof is possible. It is possible through the strengthening of the very same inner powers that we otherwise practice in life—though we usually apply them only to the external events of life—and through detaching these powers from the external events of the day and strengthening them within ourselves through meditation and concentration. These proofs—insofar as they can be elaborated upon—were discussed in the last lecture.

[ 11 ] When the spiritual researcher has thus attained a form of perception independent of the body—when he experiences himself in his soul in such a way that this soul is outside his body—then he is, in fact, just as much in the spiritual world as he is in everyday life in the sensory world, when he is immersed in his body with his soul and makes use of the senses and ordinary intellect. The spiritual researcher then knows that he is in the spiritual world, and he knows himself to be in the spiritual world in such a way that he not only surveys life between birth—or, let us say, between conception and death—but also surveys life after he has passed through the gate of death on into a new life. For one of the most important criteria is the contemplation of repeated earthly lives, in which the entire earthly life unfolds such that the human being lives between death and a new birth and between birth and death.

[ 12 ] What we experience in our present life is the result of previous earthly lives. But between two earthly lives lies the time we spend in the purely spiritual realm—that spiritual realm into which the spiritual researcher immerses himself when he allows his soul to experience life without a physical body. In this way, spiritual research broadens our perspective on human lives. And what has just been expounded—in connection with broad, far-reaching perspectives on these interrelationships of the world and its creation, on the source of human life, and on what brings security, hope, and purpose to human life—is precisely what spiritual research seeks to encompass and to contribute to what natural science has to offer the outer world.

[ 13 ] Now, in our time—though there have always been such people—there are opponents of spiritual science, people who view it with outright hostility. Today, we will not address individual attacks by any opponents of spiritual science. We intend to demonstrate something else. We shall show where, within human nature, opposition to spiritual science can arise—what is present in human nature, one might say as a matter of course—and how, when this is particularly intensified and developed in one personality or another, it must lead to genuine hostility toward the study of spiritual life and toward spiritual methods. Spiritual science is, in the true sense, in the genuine sense, that which—where the terms are understood—has been called theosophy. Has been called theosophy—this is not to say that the spiritual research advocated here wishes to identify itself with everything that is called theosophy. For today one finds quite dubious teachings grouped under the name of theosophy. When understood honestly and uprightly, the word “theosophy” means nothing other than that human beings can become aware that they carry within themselves a spiritual-soul source through which they are connected to the divine-spiritual sources that well up and work throughout the world; that human beings can feel within themselves what exists throughout the entire world as a divine-spiritual foundation. That they can experience it within themselves—that they can not only suspect and believe in a Divine presence within themselves, but also bring it to full realization. This is what constitutes the theosophical disposition. An antisophical disposition would arise if a person either completely denied that they can perceive something in the depths of their soul in such a way that what they perceive is connected to a divine-spiritual life that surges through the world, Or an antisophical attitude would arise if they at least denied that they recognize these connections to the divine-spiritual through the powers of human nature.

[ 14 ] One could say: The human soul can develop both a theosophical and an antisophical disposition. And because spiritual science demonstrates, as it were, through psychological experimentation, through the chemistry of the soul: one can experience the soul by first bringing it to a state where it is free from the body—spiritual science must therefore stand on the theosophical standpoint and submit to it. That which can be made free from the body is, when it is free from the body, immersed in a world of spiritual realities and spiritual beings. Life with the spiritual worlds and spiritual beings is theosophy; it is spiritual science. But precisely because it is capable of delving into the sources of existence, it differs from other worldviews in that, fundamentally, it can never become narrow-minded. We see this in other worldviews: their proponents simply want to understand and comprehend only what they themselves assert, and often fight everything else with blind fury—fighting it with a fury bordering on folly—and claim that it should not exist. Spiritual science, precisely because it seeks to penetrate the very primal sources of the human soul, can understand—fully understand—where attitudes other than its own come from; indeed, as we wish to demonstrate today, it can even fully understand the antisophic attitude. Today’s reflection is to be precisely about this: that the antisophical mood is not only, so to speak, forgivable when it arises among the enemies and opponents of spiritual science, but that to a certain extent it even corresponds to human nature and its inclinations.

[ 15 ] The spiritual researcher is not at all surprised that opponents and enemies of his field of research arise, because he recognizes that this opposition is fundamentally rooted in human nature. Let us cite a fact from the field of spiritual research itself, which will immediately illustrate what is meant by the naturally occurring anti-sophical sentiment.

[ 16 ] How must spiritual science view human beings? It has already been stated in earlier lectures that, for the spiritual researcher, the human being’s entry into the earthly world is a wondrous mystery. It is clear to this spiritual researcher that when a human being enters earthly life through birth, he organizes his earthly life on the basis of the previous earthly lives he has lived. Before birth, the human being existed as a spiritual-soul being in the spiritual world. In addition to what the human being inherits from father and mother, from their ancestors—what they receive through hereditary substance—the spiritual-soul aspect comes from the spiritual world. What comes from father and mother combines with what comes from the spiritual world. Here we see, to begin with, how that which comes from the spiritual world gradually works its way into what comes through hereditary tendencies. We see first how even the child’s facial features are indefinite, but that they take on an increasingly defined form to the extent that the child’s spiritual-soul aspect comes to the fore. The spiritual researcher thereby knows that at first the spiritual-soul aspect is only loosely connected to the physical-bodily aspect. Thus, with every increase in the definiteness of the facial features, with the emergence of abilities and aptitudes, we see a deeper immersion of the spiritual-soul aspect into the physical-bodily aspect. Evidence could be cited—if there were sufficient time—to show that one can observe the spiritual-soul aspect gradually becoming immersed in the developing physical body; that the spiritual-soul aspect sculpts the physical body; and that it takes possession of the movements and dexterities of the physical body.

[ 17 ] Perhaps I may draw the attention of some members of this esteemed audience—who have already examined this matter more closely—to the fact that children, when they first enter the world at birth, often look in such a way that one does not know whom they resemble; it is only over time that they come to resemble someone. This is [so] because two forces are in opposition to one another: that which is inherent in the physical body—which, so to speak, works its way up as a physical force— [and] that which comes from the spiritual-soul realm, which permeates the physical body and gradually makes evident the reasons why the child should be born into this particular family. One is not born into a family by chance, but because what one brings with one from the spiritual-soul world feels a certain kinship with what is often found in that particular family. Even if there is misfortune in that family, the soul needs precisely what may befall it as misfortune for its further development. The forces of attraction from the spiritual-soul realm and those arising from heredity interact with one another. The spiritual-soul realm only gradually grows into what the external world presents to it. Therefore, a balance with what is present in the hereditary line is established only gradually.

[ 18 ] Spiritual science, however, cannot participate in the discussion of these matters in the brutal manner in which the physical experimental method approaches them. One must place oneself in a position to observe the conditions of life more closely and intimately if one wishes to understand them from the perspective of spiritual science. Thus, we see the spiritual-soul aspect of the human being descending from the spiritual-soul realm and uniting with the physical-bodily realm. We see that in the early stages of a child’s development, the body is almost dreamlike. Not only must the child spend a large part of its existence sleeping for the sake of its health, but its life also has a dreamlike quality. Then comes the moment—it is the point up to which one can recall—when self-awareness clearly emerges, when the child learns to feel itself as an “I” and to clearly express its self-awareness.

[ 19 ] What is the basis for this? In the early stages, before this happens, the spiritual-soul forces are first at work making the body a suitable instrument for the mission, the task. Once a human being is born, work must continue for a long time on the brain and the finer organs, which are initially still quite undifferentiated. The spiritual-soul aspect must take root, must increasingly take possession of the physical-bodily aspect, must grow into the physical-bodily aspect. The forces descending from the spiritual world do this; they plastically shape the brain and “organize” the individual members of the human body so that the person has an instrument for acting and perceiving in the external world. This inner work that the soul performs within the body is infinitely significant and important. As long as this inner work continues, the child must live a kind of dream life, especially while this work is still focused on the physical development of the brain and the finer parts of the nervous system. Then a point is reached, which we will recall later. At this point, the inner work is completed to a certain degree. It is difficult to speak precisely about such matters in the ordinary language of everyday life, because our language is made for the outer world, not for the spiritual world. Therefore, one must try to choose words in such a way that they point to what lies at the foundation. When, I would say, the work of the spiritual-soul aspect on the physical-bodily aspect has progressed to the point where the physical-bodily aspect has been condensed and prepared as the human being needs it for his or her later life, then the forces that previously worked within are set free. They no longer immerse themselves in the physical-bodily aspect; they will exist independently. And what is the result of this? I would like to express this result through a comparison. This parable is not meant to serve as an analogy to explain anything, but simply to make clear what is meant here: Imagine we have a glass pane and a mass in front of us, and as we look through the glass, we see what is behind it. Now, if we take the mass and shape it so that we can place it as a covering over the glass pane, we gradually transform what was once a transparent glass pane into a mirror. If we now look into the glass, we seem to see our own reflection. What is presented here as a parable, conceived accordingly, makes clear to us what happens in the first years of a child’s life.

[ 20 ] At first, the child works in the spiritual-soul realm in such a way that it shapes its physical body, molds it plastically; we might say it makes it so dense that spiritual-soul activity can no longer enter it, can no longer work its way into the body. We can compare this to the fact that one can no longer see through glass that has a mirror coating. The body will now reflect the spiritual-soul activity; self-consciousness begins. From the moment the spiritual-soul aspect is complete, the body becomes a mirror, and the nervous system becomes a mirror. And just as one sees oneself in a finished mirror, so does one experience oneself as an independent “I” from the moment when, as a child, one has turned one’s physical body into a mirror through one’s spiritual-soul forces. Thus, just as one perceives oneself in the mirror image, self-consciousness begins—one begins to feel oneself as an “I.” This is the point up to which one later recalls one’s past. This is the awakening of self-consciousness; this is the emergence of the “I” in the child. And at the same time, one realizes from this that the forces which were previously used to organize the body—the forces that brought the body to the level of density through which it became a mirroring apparatus—are now employed for everyday life: for feeling, imagining, and thinking. What else occurs here? This will be revealed to us by the development that the spiritual researcher must undergo; when the spiritual researcher truly shapes his soul to be free of the body, when he truly attains body-free experiencing and perception through the means mentioned in the last lecture and described in *The Secret Science*, then he makes use, precisely within his soul, of those very means that the child employs to shape the body plastically. He must once again activate the means that ceased to function when his relationship to the external world began to take on a conscious character. Precisely what the spiritual researcher needs for his spiritual method had to be suppressed by physical perceptions and concepts.

[ 21 ] One can use a precise formulation that employs a word which is already in common use today. One could say: What the spiritual researcher must bring to consciousness is the very same thing that would be present in the ordinary person if consciousness were to suddenly arise during sleep, yet the person would still be asleep. In the ordinary person, the spiritual-soul aspect lies deep in the subconscious; it does not come to consciousness. For what comes to consciousness in everyday life? Not the spiritual-soul aspect itself, but its reflection in the body—just as the person standing before a mirror does not see himself standing there, but rather his image, his reflection. Thus, everyday consciousness is not one in which the spiritual-soul aspect perceives itself, but rather that which is reflected back from life as a mirror image from the moment self-consciousness awakens.

[ 22 ] That which has ceased to exist in ordinary human experience from that particular point onward—that which is suppressed into the subconscious so that, during physical life, a person directs their attention to the mirror image—must be brought back up by the spiritual researcher into that which a fragment of the human organism itself first develops during the embryonic stage and later during the period after the human being is born, up to the moment when self-consciousness emerges. Two things stand in opposition here: everyday life, where the human being deals only with the mirror image, while the truly real experience of the spiritual-soul aspect remains in the subconscious. The task of the spiritual researcher is to bring up what we otherwise experience only as a mirror image in daily life.

[ 23 ] Now, one must bear in mind: It is in human nature that a person is situated in everyday life in such a way that they draw these forces into their body only during the earliest, most tender stage of childhood, up until the point when the dream life transforms into fully conscious, ordinary daily life, in which a person perceives the reflection of their soul life. Everything that enables a person to be capable in external life, to be firmly grounded in social life, and to engage in ordinary science is based on the fact that, from the defined stage of childhood onward, they no longer direct the forces toward external life—forces that can then only be reflected—which they had previously used to shape the physical body.

[ 24 ] The forces that a human being needs for the outer physical body must therefore have a tendency to initially push back—to press down into the unconscious—everything that the spiritual researcher needs for his spiritual research, everything that is present there and that shapes the human being from the spiritual world, everything that makes him the image of the spiritual world. This necessarily gives rise to a certain disposition, especially in the person who is immersed in outer physical life and who is conscious of the fact: “Through what I have acquired as a human being, I have become capable of functioning in the outer world”—and who does not know that there are other forces, namely the forces that have until then shaped his inner being; for him, the disposition must arise to cling, at first, to the forces that are opposed to the forces of spiritual research. This attitude easily takes hold in ordinary life. It gives rise to an aversion, an antipathy toward all spiritual research. One instinctively feels that one should apply within the physical body those forces that are needed for physical life; these are forces that have nothing to do with the forces the spiritual researcher wishes to discuss.

[ 25 ] If one wishes to state the matter emphatically, it can be characterized as follows. One can say: Yes, human beings feel within themselves the awareness that they are capable in the physical, sensory realm through the powers of their body—when they forget the other power, the spiritual-soul power, which, without any effort on their part, without their having exerted themselves, first prepared the body in the early years of their childhood, in which the soul is then reflected. Human beings do not pay attention to the fact that the forces are at work that have made them what they are—the very forces that enable them to be capable in the first place. They simply accept the instruments that have been prepared for them without their own doing. They do not realize that these instruments are formed from the spiritual-soul world. They perceive this instrument, once it is ready, as something that enables them to function effectively in the outer, physical world.

[ 26 ] So when a person is in this frame of mind—when they say to themselves, “Why should I care how they came to be? I just want to use this tool”—then they can slip into an antisophical mindset. They want nothing to do with the forces that shaped this tool—forces that the spiritual researcher must uncover and bring to consciousness. Will you understand that precisely in a time when material life places so many demands on human beings, in a time that boasts such rich and flourishing fields of knowledge and takes such pride in material progress—that in such a time, [above all else] the antisophical mood is bound to gain the upper hand? Will you understand that antipathy toward theosophy—toward the power that reigns in the unseen and must be brought to light by the spiritual researcher—will be met with resentment? But these forces lie hidden in the depths of the soul, and they are brought to light through spiritual research. And when they are brought to light, these forces will be the very ones that introduce us to the true facts and entities of the spiritual world.

[ 27 ] Now, this antisophic sentiment can flare up a second time, because the path of spiritual research is not particularly easy. What happens when a person comes to liberate a soul-spiritual element from the body, to slip out, as it were, from the physical-bodily realm? Then perceptions arise before their soul that are no longer the perceptions of the external senses—thoughts that are no longer the thoughts of their ordinary intellect. Then, just as when falling asleep, the everyday sensory world fades away. Thus the external world sinks into the indeterminate. But it is not the darkness of sleep that emerges, but a new world—a world that must be understood in the proper sense if it is not to be misunderstood.

[ 28 ] When the spiritual researcher has practiced with patience and energy long enough to detach his soul—to use the expression—as it were, to bring it out of the body, the first thing that happens is not that one immediately finds oneself within a multitude of spiritual facts and beings. But one immediately feels oneself in another world. From a certain point on, one knows what it means to be outside one’s body in a spiritual-soul realm. This occurs because one begins to have dreamlike visions through a kind of inner soul activity, just as nighttime sleep can be interrupted by dreams that intrude upon it—dreams that we know are not caused in the ordinary way by external things. Images appear that someone who understands nothing of this will regard as figments of the imagination, but of which the spiritual researcher knows that when one’s spiritual-soul life is developed in the right way—not as modern humanity understands evolution, but in such a way that the soul develops from the depths of its natural being—one then finds oneself in a new world. There, one is surrounded by images one has never seen, impressions one has never had.

[ 29 ] So that I am not misunderstood, I must point something out right away. Naturally, once the soul has left the body and beholds a world around it that resembles images of colors flitting back and forth—a world of sounds— But in this new world, not everything is, strictly speaking, exactly as it is in the physical world. If everything were merely a memory or a reminiscence of the sensory world, one might get the impression expressed by a student of Plato, who said: Socrates knew nothing more than what other people also know. Every schoolboy knows that, too. Why should Socrates know more than a schoolboy? Certainly, the individual images of color are reminiscent of the content of external life, but just as the letters of a book convey something entirely new to us, even though we know all the individual letters, so the experiences of the soul introduce us to the spiritual world, even though they appear to be reminiscences of external physical life.

[ 30 ] There is just one point we must get past. What first appears there—what fills our field of mental perception—is something that a materialist might call “imaginary images,” if he does not realize that these images are not, at first, a real perception of the external world, but rather the initial formation of the spiritual organism. Just as we learn in the course of childhood to develop our senses, to feel and see things in the right way, and thereby become aware of our physical body for the first time, so too must we—if I may use the expression—become aware of our spiritual body. What these people regard as a spiritual world is, in fact, something we must first develop, like a spiritual body. And within this spiritual body, we must, as it were, feel our way toward the real spiritual world. And in fact: what we perceive first is ourselves. In this sense, one can speak of visions or hallucinations. The materialistic researcher comes to know nothing at all beyond this. And because he cannot come to know anything else, he cannot believe that the time will come when the true spiritual researcher will need them. Just as the materialistic researcher uses his hands to feel the physical world, so the spiritual researcher uses what is produced by the senses independent of the body to grasp and perceive the spiritual world. First, we develop the spiritual eye and the spiritual ear, and when we make use of them, we penetrate the spiritual world through them.

[ 31 ] At this threshold of the spiritual world, two things arise that, in a sense, make people hesitant to truly enter the spiritual world—they hold them back. What arises there is as follows: First of all, the spiritual world into which we are entering is entirely different from the physical world. We cannot even readily use our concepts, ideas, and notions from the physical world to enter this spiritual world. In our ordinary everyday life, we are accustomed to perceiving realities that we experience with our bodies—that we perceive through our eyes and ears. We are accustomed to calling “real” that which we can touch with our hands, that which we can understand in terms of its laws through our intellect, which is bound to the physical brain.

[ 32 ] But we have shed this body when, as spiritual researchers, we enter the spiritual world. Nothing that can be perceived through the body is present there. At first, one experiences oneself in one’s soul in such a way that one knows: The body is gone; one is in the spiritual world with only one’s soul. What makes itself felt is what one might call a complete unfamiliarity with the new situation. Whereas until now one was accustomed to standing in the world enveloped and surrounded by the body, one now stands there with one’s soul alone and without any inner experience. And the same intense feeling arises, one that can only be compared to what you have experienced when you have dreamed: you suddenly feel undressed in a place where there are many people, filled with shame because you feel you belong in a world where you do not belong. This dream offers a blurred image—something like a foreshadowing—of what occurs with infinite intensity when one enters the spiritual world and feels out of place, so that one says: You now face what you once called reality differently; you can no longer see or feel what you previously regarded as the real world. Why would you strive to enter a world stripped of what you have truly perceived? As soon as one enters the spiritual world—and thus finds oneself in a world that contains entirely different beings, who are purely spiritual and soul-like, among whom events unfold that lie solely within the spiritual world—as soon as one enters, one must first and foremost preserve one’s “I” with all one’s might. If one does not preserve one’s “I,” one will be submerged in this entire spiritual world. That is why, when you read the book *How Does One Gain Insight into the Higher Worlds?*, you will see that all the exercises recommended there boil down to carrying the “I”—stronger than it is experienced in the outer world—into the spiritual world. When I see the color blue in the sensory world, I say, “I see it.” I think it is outside of me. When one enters the spiritual world, one takes on its qualities; by immersing oneself in the spiritual world, one must become one with it. One’s entire inner being spreads out into the spiritual world, flows out into it. And as for thoughts—one does not have the feeling that one is thinking them; rather, they think themselves. One is truly so immersed in this spiritual world that one is like both the Erlking and his little son at the same time: the father full of worry, the little son tossed about by all manner of visions in his soul. One is both of them at once. One perceives a new world, yet one feels drawn by indefinable forces to every thing, to every action. One feels as if torn from oneself. This creates a feeling in the soul that one must come to know precisely. A feeling of fear of being taken from oneself, of being taken away from what has hitherto guaranteed one’s reality.

[ 33 ] Both feelings—the sense of being unfamiliar with the spiritual world and the sense of vulnerability within it, as well as the fear of that world—are found deep within the human soul. Both feelings would arise and suddenly seize a person if he were to awaken as a spiritual researcher must awaken—if he were to awaken in this way from ordinary sleep; an infinite fear of being unfamiliar with and exposed in that world would grip him. But ordinary sleep immediately corrects these feelings. They do not manifest themselves. A person numbs these feelings by generating within himself the will to return to his body and thereby awaken. This is why, as if driven by an impulse of will, a person feels compelled to return to his body upon waking—as long as the body can receive him, that is, until death—because the body numbs the feeling of being exposed. A person numbs feelings of fear by initially refusing to allow themselves to enter the spiritual world at all.

[ 34 ] The moment a person begins to enter the spiritual world through the exercises recommended by the spiritual researcher, this fear quietly creeps into their soul. The person seeks to numb this fear by keeping the spiritual world at a distance, by adopting a materialistic mindset—in other words, by bringing to its fullest expression the antisophical disposition within them—because the person must numb themselves against what would fill them if they were to enter the spiritual world. Through this feeling of fear, the soul is disposed toward antisophism. In order not to be in an antisophical frame of mind, a person must engage in exercises that, above all, enable them not to feel exposed, but rather to feel clothed in a spiritual body, just as they are clothed here in a physical body. To overcome the feeling of fear, a person must engage in exercises that enable them to approach the spiritual world fearlessly and boldly.

[ 35 ] That is why many people have an antisophic disposition. But this is not, at its core, ill will, nor is it something that can be strongly attributed to people; rather, it is the human longing to numb oneself against fear. That is what drives them toward an antisophic disposition. It is not an exaggeration to say that whenever a building is erected for spiritual science, opposition makes itself felt throughout the surrounding area and continues to manifest everywhere. Thus, the anti-sophistic sentiment arises from people’s desire to numb themselves to their own ability to enter the spiritual world. Because people cannot overcome this fear, they adopt an anti-sophistic attitude. Just as a person convinces themselves of one thing in order to prevent another from coming into view or rising into consciousness, so too would people have to express what lies in their subconscious with honest words: “We are afraid of the spiritual world; therefore, the spiritual world must not exist for us.” The consequence of this is that such a person declares spiritual science to be nonsense, fantasy, daydreaming, or unnecessary, and invents all sorts of things to denigrate it. These are means of numbing one’s fear—the fear that, naturally, one does not understand when speaking.

[ 36 ] Especially today, using the methods of spiritual science, we can draw particular attention to this fear and also point out that, rather than acknowledging it, people invent something to numb it. Let us point out one characteristic phenomenon.

[ 37 ] A very prominent physiologist, who passed away some time ago, pointed out something that need only be considered properly to corroborate the fact just mentioned. I would like to point out, however, that when I cite something that reflects an anti-sophisticated attitude, I am not intent on attacking opponents whom I do not disparage, but whom I hold in the highest regard in their own fields. For example, I hold Du Bois-Reymond in high regard, who delivered a famous, witty speech at a renowned naturalists’ conference in the 1870s. The brilliant, outstanding arguments of a man grounded in contemporary natural science find evidence everywhere for what he asserts; he presents reasons at every turn. Then he approaches the conclusion.

[ 38 ] What was his point? He argued that natural science can, in general, only lead to an understanding of the world in terms of the motion of its smallest parts—that is, it reduces everything to motion. But just as true as it is that all natural science is based on investigating the motion of atoms and so on, it is also true that natural science can never comprehend the soul. The natural scientist can say that the color red arises from certain movements, but he cannot say what causes the awareness of the color red to arise within us. No natural science could ever comprehend anything spiritual from movement alone. If one were to attempt to comprehend this spiritual aspect using the sole method justified by natural science, that would mark the beginning of what he calls “supernaturalism.” And so Du Bois-Reymond concludes his speech: Natural science must focus on external motion; it can never comprehend even the simplest part of the human soul. This soul could only be understood where supernaturalism begins and natural science ends.

[ 39 ] We can go through Du Bois-Reymond’s speech; everywhere we find the most compelling reasons for what he says. Only the last assertion comes out of the blue. He provides no evidence for it. We have the feeling—and we must have it, for it is justified—that when Du Bois-Reymond moves from the legitimate realm of his science to supernaturalism, he no longer presents reasons but rather antipathy. This feeling of aversion springs from his subconscious, causing him to view supernaturalism with antipathy, but he has no reasons to support his claim. Du Bois-Reymond is not alone; I have merely mentioned him as a typical representative of this school of thought. Wherever aversion arises toward the teachings of spiritual science—that is, wherever an antisophical sentiment prevails—we see people everywhere, whether we call them materialists or monists, who present the most compelling arguments for the positive things they assert.

[ 40 ] But you see, one could cite hundreds upon hundreds of examples of this; wherever people express their antipathy toward spiritual science, that is where the reasons end. This antipathy arises from the subconscious—from something that has nothing to do with what they are able to articulate as a justification. To see what is emerging there, one must shine a light—using the methods of spiritual science—into the organization of the human soul; and here, in fact, external natural science already aligns with spiritual science, just as natural science aligns with it wherever it understands itself and does not seek to establish a comprehensive worldview based on misunderstood knowledge.

[ 41 ] One can examine, through the particular manner in which the purely external scholar—who relies solely on facts and, moreover, relies only on what his thinking provides him in terms of laws governing the external world—examines how his constitution functions under the influence of thinking directed solely toward the external world of sensory perceptions and the intellect. One can see that the nerves are placed in a state similar to that which a person experiences when entering a state of fear, except that in a state of fear caused by a sudden fright—a sudden state of fear—blood circulation can be disrupted; it can be drawn away from the outer parts of the body and directed to the heart and brain, so that fainting may occur as a result of a sudden fright. The scholar distributes what suddenly causes fear over the course of a long life. He, as it were, breaks down the states of fear. When he faces the world—as if he were permeated in his entire soul by fear—he dissolves this fear into the antisophic mood.

[ 42 ] The Danish researcher Lange has written a book on emotional states, in which states of fear are also characterized from a psychological perspective. But spiritual science, too, can do this with its own methods. The entire circulatory system enters a different state when fear or fright arises in a person. When fear arises in the human soul, even the bodily fluids enter a different state. This could be described in detail. It would take up too much of our time; but there is one thing you will all know: When a person is under the influence of a shock or fear, they suddenly feel insecure. They have the desire: “Oh, if only I could hold on to something”—they may even faint. Physically, they seek something to hold on to.

[ 43 ] What one produces through activity directed purely toward the external world of observation is a sense of fear and dread spread out over the years. Slowly and gradually, fear is poured into the soul, and the state of fear takes root in the organism when one lives solely in relation to the external sensory world. When people are in this state of fear, they express—in their own sphere—what is expressed by a person who is in a state of fear and terror and says: “I’m falling; give me something to hold on to.” This is what someone says who is so disposed as to reject the supernatural world. “I will reject the spiritual world; give me something to hold on to.” Physical perception—the theory of atoms—is what one clings to when seized by a subconscious mood of fear.

[ 44 ] This is the answer that must be produced by science, which is focused on the external world and refuses to acknowledge this spiritual science—the states that one is supposed to experience without being able to rely on external knowledge or physical laws. Just as someone who is afraid tries to hold on to a table or chair, so too does the person who fears the spiritual world cling to matter, because he fears sinking into a state of powerlessness if he cannot hold on to matter; he fears sinking into a spiritual powerlessness. To numb himself against this fear, he deludes himself into believing: “There is nothing supernatural.”

[ 45 ] From these remarks, we see how an antisophic mood must be generated in a natural way; we see [how] it is precisely in the forms that this external science takes that an antisophic mood must be generated. The more a person allows themselves to be inwardly imbued with the mood generated by this science—which is directed toward the external world—the more they will find antisophia. Thus, one can say: There is something inherent in a person’s natural disposition that can be described as an antisophic mood. And the more a person immerses themselves in external life—whether in practice or in science—the more antisophic mood accumulates within them.

[ 46 ] But just as a pendulum, when it swings to one side, must also swing to the other, so too must human beings, when their outer form swings toward an antisophical state of mind, also swing to the other side—toward theosophy. A person cannot remain at peace spiritually, just as a pendulum cannot remain at rest once it has swung to one side. A person could only maintain inner peace if he were to keep himself in a state of complete numbness, as if in a spiritual twilight. It may happen, precisely because of the prevailing mood of the present, that the soul is swept away by the antisophical mood. All the more reason, then, for those who can observe the depths of the human soul more intimately to note that the pendulum seeks to swing in the opposite direction—that the theosophical mood is also present in numerous human souls. The point is that this theosophy must be guided along the right paths, especially for spiritual science. Its task is not to generate a theosophical mood—this mood will arise naturally as the opposite swing of the pendulum; the more we move toward the future, the more the theosophical mood will emerge in all human souls that truly understand themselves, in contrast to the antisophical mood. But the theosophical mood—as little as it needs to be created—must be guided and directed by spiritual science; it must find its proper course through spiritual science, just as the antisophical mood must find its proper course. Otherwise, what I wish to suggest through a comparison could easily happen.

[ 47 ] Tasso is known not only for his own poetry, but also through Goethe’s work. Tasso spoke of a spirit with whom he communed. He did not speak in the same way as a spiritual researcher does. The spiritual researcher, who attains consciousness and knows what kind of being is involved, who can maintain his consciousness—he must speak differently than the poet, who cloaks what he feels in imagination. The modern spiritual researcher holds fast to the “I” and does not allow fear to arise. Tasso did not yet live in the age in which spiritual research began to shed light on the spiritual world. Tasso spoke of a spirit with whom he communicated and to whom he owed his best thoughts. Manso, who wrote a biography of Tasso, always laughed at this strange spirit with whom Tasso conversed. He sees nothing, so they say. Then Tasso once said to him: “I will make it so that you really see and hear him.” And once, after the two had gone on a hunt, Tasso suddenly looked toward the window where he was standing with Manso. Manso saw Tasso begin to speak as if to a foreign being. Tasso was conversing with him. And Manso could not dismiss it by saying that Tasso might have made it up. He spoke in such a way that he gave answers he could not have given on his own. When the conversation was over, Tasso said to him, “Do you now have proof of the spirit I am speaking to?” “Yes,” said Manso, “I did hear you speaking with a spirit, but I didn’t see anything.” Then Tasso said: “You’ve seen and heard enough. If you had seen more, then—” he broke off. “Then you wouldn’t have been able to bear it; that’s how we might complete his words.”

[ 48 ] This is what might happen to souls if they did not, as is natural, have to develop a theosophical disposition as a response, as a counterbalance to the antisophical disposition. They would necessarily be able to perceive the spiritual, but one must doubt whether they could bear it. Spiritual science must guide these souls onto the right path. As long as people indulge in antisophic dispositions, antisophists will continue to be, in a sense, the counterparts of Mephisto, the primordial antisophist of modern times. He is the primordial antisophist. When he gives Faust the key to the realm of the mothers, he explains that Faust will thereby penetrate into nothingness. Faust, the theosophist, declares: “In your nothingness I hope to find the universe.” He has overcome fear; he need not numb himself in the face of it.

[ 49 ] If we develop this—which leads from the antisophical to the theosophical mood—then once again we find ourselves in a situation where one can say: Through spiritual science, one feels in harmony with all those people who, over the course of time, even though they have not yet been able to turn toward spiritual science — for spiritual science can only now, in our time, capture the souls and stand alongside the natural sciences —, with all those who, through true, genuine spiritual research, embody the progress of humanity; one feels in harmony with all of them.

[ 50 ] If we consider the human soul with its anti-theosophical and theosophical dispositions—both of which must necessarily exist within the human soul—as we have done today, then one can say that one faces all opponents and enemies of spiritual science with complete understanding. One must defend oneself against them, but one understands them. And this understanding can even turn into compassion, because in most cases, this opposition is nothing more than a numbing agent against the fear that overtakes a person when they first seek to enter the spiritual world without being prepared. The Antisoph does not feel that he has this fear, but it is present in his subconscious. And he aligns himself with the one who, in the eighteenth century, spoke out as a philosopher of the Antisophic movement: Haller, the great sage, who is also well known here in Switzerland. Just as with other people, one is more inclined to cite him rather than lesser opponents, because he was one of the greatest in his field. Because in his soul—precisely in order to attain that in which he had become great, namely as a natural scientist in the outer realms—the antisophic mood grew ever stronger, he says:

Into the heart of nature
No creative spirit penetrates.
Blessed is the one to whom she shows
Only the outer shell.

[ 51 ] This is the antisophic mindset, which is incapable of acknowledging that human beings have an inner source of existence, and which cannot approach this source scientifically. Goethe contrasts this with his theosophic mindset. Not that he speaks of a theosophic or antisophic mindset. But, referring specifically to Haller’s words, he says:

I’ve heard that repeated for sixty years,
I curse it, but secretly;
Tell me a thousand, a thousand times:
She gives everything abundantly and gladly,
Nature has neither core
nor shell,
She is everything at once;
You, above all, must examine yourself
To see whether you are core or shell.

[ 52 ] A person can develop an antisophic disposition within themselves. They can reach a state of mind in which they say: “I want to get to the core, to that which guarantees my reality, even when I am merely within my shell. Whatever lies at the root of what life conceals from me—its core—let that remain hidden.” This is expressed in the sentence:

Into the heart of nature
No creative spirit penetrates.
Blessed is he to whom she shows
Only the outer shell.

[ 53 ] The Theosophist says: At the core of his being, man is what constitutes his spiritual-soul aspect. The spiritual-psychic aspect triumphs over the body; [it is that] which overcomes the body in death and passes through death into the spiritual world, in order to experience the spiritual world through death and to return to the body through a new birth for further development! Human beings can live in their innermost core, and when they live in their innermost core and experience only that, then they experience the spiritual-psychic realm that weaves and surges through the world. Just as we find ourselves within the entire physical world through our bodies as instruments and forces, so too, by experiencing the innermost core of our soul, do we find ourselves within the spiritual-psychic realm of the world—at its core. And even if not everyone can become a spiritual researcher, the human soul is nonetheless predisposed to the recognition of truth. Only a few people need to become spiritual researchers. But even those who are not spiritual researchers themselves—if they simply examine themselves—are capable, through ordinary human thinking, of understanding everything the spiritual researcher says, provided they apply what has been indicated regarding the development of the soul.

[ 54 ] The spiritual researcher is not limited to speaking only to other spiritual researchers. He knows that he is speaking to the innermost core that resides in every soul. And if external prejudices do not hold that soul back, every soul can also deeply feel the truth of what the spiritual researcher says. This theosophical mood will increasingly take root in life and will increasingly embrace the goals of spiritual life, precisely as people attain an ever more glorious and fruitful spiritual life. Then the human soul will resist the anti-theosophical mood in its quiet hours, in those moments when it feels and becomes aware of its connection to the core of all existence. Then the soul will seek to awaken such a theosophical mood, which expresses itself in saying, more and more in the face of all anti-theosophical sentiment:

Nature has neither core
nor shell;
It is all at once;
— Nothing is inside, nothing is outside.
For what is inside is outside. —
Examine yourself above all else
To see whether you are core or shell.