The Rudolf Steiner Archive

20. Why do “you” call Schiller’s and Fichte’s people a “barbarian people”?

A Perspective Based on the Humanities

The text on which this lecture is based was reconstructed from a transcription of a shorthand transcript by Hedda Hummel (ST HH 2)—which was extremely difficult to read—using a shorthand transcript by Johanna Arnold (ST JA 12) that was legible but very incomplete. Numerous unclear passages remain unresolved. For documentary reasons, the lecture is nevertheless published; however, due to its fragmentary nature, it appears only in the appendix. Additions by the editor and completed quotations are indicated in square brackets. In both stenographic transcripts, the quotations were usually recorded only in a very fragmentary manner. Therefore, the editor has completed the quotations in accordance with the original. The quotation itself and its length were determined in each case by the recorded fragments or by how they were cited by Rudolf Steiner in other similar lectures in this volume. In some places, words or passages from Johanna Arnold’s stenographic transcript were inserted; these are indicated in each instance.

[ 1 ] Ladies and gentlemen! In recent years, I have had the privilege of delivering a lecture here in this city almost every year on the subject of cultural reflections—which I take the liberty of calling a “spiritual-scientific worldview.” Since the friends of our spiritual science movement in this city expressed the wish that I deliver such a lecture again this year—in these fateful times—it will seem understandable that, in our times, [such] reflections should address what concerns people in the immediate present in their deepest feelings—what deeply affects all our senses — thought, feeling, and will — and to what is happening all around us in this vast, powerful present that holds so much in its bosom, and which has at the same time brought about so countless sacrifices, so all-encompassing pain and suffering for our present-day humanity. But this reflection is not being offered today to add yet another voice to the—I might say—overwhelming body of contemporary war literature, which finds such abundant expression in pamphlets, books, and lectures; rather, it is offered because one could indeed believe, my esteemed audience, that with regard to what we are experiencing, a spiritual-scientific perspective also has something to say—even if, of course, this spiritual-scientific perspective today cannot be what other lectures of past years [were able to be], which [I] have given here and which related to this or that question of spiritual science; even if it must be the case that the spiritual-scientific aspect lies more in the manner of observation and in the feelings it evokes, such a spiritual-scientific perspective on current events will nevertheless appear justified.

[ 2 ] However, ladies and gentlemen, in response to much of what has been said—especially regarding what has been said about our current events from the perspective of a more spiritual understanding of things—it has been objected that we are, first and foremost, dealing with a purely political matter among nations. Some have even expressed concern that any spiritually oriented perspective might interfere with the assessment of current events, and for all sorts of profound reasons have sought to deny the cause of what we sense is unfolding. It has been said that one does not wish to delude oneself with metaphysical haze in the face of today’s events, but rather to see through reality with clear thinking; not to embellish with all manner of fog what is expressed in words—for which there is such a fierce struggle in the world—but simply and clearly to see what is happening. And it was—indeed, it is, I might say, set apart from all manner of intellectually oriented perspectives—that what lies before us is, first and foremost, a purely political conflict of interests among nations—if we were to single one out—that, for example, between the German and English peoples, it concerns the purely external conflict of interests between Germany’s political past and its political future.

[ 3 ] Well, ladies and gentlemen, one could even—from a [purely] humanities perspective, which is, after all, oriented toward realities rather than figments of the imagination—agree with such a demand, were it not for the fact that, on the other hand, one must consider that once, at the beginning of the Middle Ages, when Germanic peoples were at war with [the] Roman Empire, one could also have spoken of a conflict of interests between the Germanic peoples and the Roman Empire. Yet it was precisely from what that conflict of interests held within it that, little by little, everything we are surrounded by today as modern culture developed. Therein lay all that is spiritual, in which our souls are now immersed. For example, it lay in the fact that Christianity emerged at that time from the Greco-Roman-Oriental world, that simultaneously with this Christianity the elemental forces of the Germanic peoples asserted themselves on European soil, and it has become evident in the course of historical development that it was only through the infusion of Christian impulses into the Germanic peoples—into their elemental forces—that what we now see developing as European culture could come into being; so that one must certainly say: From an immediate, present-day perspective, there are merely—I would say, upon closer inspection—conflicts of interest to be surveyed. For those who look a little further ahead, however, what is happening reveals the deepest impulses that may shape the future development of humanity; and it is above all about such matters that we should speak.

[ 4 ] Of course, words, thoughts, and concepts—which are, after all, available only to the speaker or to literature or science—cannot be used to accomplish anything decisive regarding the great events that are unfolding. That is decided by weapons and by the courageous bravery of those who stand on the front lines of these events. But when one surveys contemporary history in its context with the past and with a possible future, ladies and gentlemen, then one does indeed arrive—I would say as a result of the fateful events of our time—at a perspective that makes a deeper examination of current events not only possible or desirable, but perhaps even necessary.

[ 5 ] It has, after all, already become clear from various analyses—including those conducted by others in the present—that despite all the slander—from the left and the right, from the north and the south—leveled against Central Europe during this period, What will one day emerge as an indisputable historical fact, despite all these objections, is that the Central European peoples are waging a defensive struggle in this moment’s tremendous conflict—a struggle they did not bring about themselves. This warlike defense, in which—I believe earlier times could not have conceived of it—34 distinct peoples of the earth are struggling — this warlike struggle, when viewed from a deeper perspective of the world, appears to be the expression of an entirely different struggle, of a mighty battle that is also taking place among the spirits, a battle in which Central Europe—and above all the German spirit—now finds itself in a defensive position, fighting for the most sacred values just as it does on the external battlefields. And this is the idea that should underlie today’s reflections. It is not only the economic, external, and political assets of the German people that are under attack at present—indeed, they have been in the past and will be in the future—but it is, in fact, spiritual life itself that is under attack and compelled to defend itself. And weapons will have to be forged for the defense of this spiritual life, just as weapons must be wielded for the defense of political, economic, and social life.

[ 6 ] Today we hear cries coming from all sides: “Those German barbarians!” Some even add: [illegible word]. “How low they have sunk—those among whom great minds like Goethe, Schiller, Fichte, and so on once lived!”

[ 7 ] Well, certainly, my esteemed audience, even those who adopt a spiritual perspective on the world will—I would say—not have to take these accusations of barbarism all too seriously. For with the same sophistry, the same drivel with which [it] is proclaimed even today, [the accusation] will one day be refuted. One day people will find the right words for it, just as today there are many hundreds of truer words to justify one’s claim. People will say, “Yes, what the Germans have there—when they invoke Fichte, Schiller, Goethe, and the others, such as Beethoven—that is, of course, not what we meant when we spoke of barbarians.” What was meant, they will say, was the conduct of war, the manner in which Germany confronted other nations during the war itself. However, things are not that simple when one looks at them more deeply. To anyone who is even slightly familiar with the development of divine culture—divine-spiritual culture—it is not the first time they have heard the assertion that what we call our most precious possession, our soul, our culture—that this, in essence, can be described as “barbarism.” And strangely enough, ladies and gentlemen, in recent times—the word “barbarism” has indeed been seen often—the accusation of “barbarism” directed at Central European culture has perhaps resounded most strongly, as much as one may find it hard to believe, coming from Russia, from the Russian spirit itself. And here one need not refer to external newspaper articles or statements in the press, but rather to precisely what the leading, influential minds of the Russian spirit have put forward as their most significant view.

[ 8 ] And so that we may address something concrete right away, let us draw attention to how a truly significant mind—in his own way—emerged within nineteenth-century Russian intellectual life: Khomyakov. From his Russian perspective, he sought to survey and characterize the entire course of European culture. He sought, in fact, to present a picture of European history. Three forces, he said, are at work in the course of this European cultural development. The first force is that which still stems from ancient Roman civilization. The second, he said, is that which stems from a misunderstood Christianity. The third force, he said, is that which stems from Western European barbarism. Admittedly, at that time, this Western European barbarism also included what has since come to light among the Western peoples now allied with Russia. And how did Chomyakov, from his own perspective, attempt to characterize the entire “barbarism”—as he put it—of the West? He said that what is immediately rooted in the depths of the human soul as something divine was inherited by European intellectual development from Roman culture. This Roman culture had developed and continues to exert its influence today as a form of intellectual rationalism. This Roman culture, he argued, had a sense only for external state institutions, for external material and social coexistence. It had no sense, however, for the depth of Christianity—for [illegible word] Christianity—which is meant to awaken impulses in the innermost chamber of the human heart, in the deepest depths of the human soul. Roman culture—so Khomyakov argues—did not understand the impulses of the soul in order to transform or carry forward Christianity, but rather viewed it solely as a means, an external means for state, social, and purely political institutions. But this, Khomyakov argues, justifies the accusation of rationalism—of a purely intellectual culture—which, in his view, so profoundly dominates the entire European barbarism.

[ 9 ] And then, according to Khomyakov, these European peoples attempted to continue the course of development that had been pioneered by the Romans, in such a way that they merely brought to the surface in thought what was meant to be a Christian impulse moving all the forces of the soul, turning it into scholasticism, philosophy, and a conceptual, scientific apparatus—a rationalized Christianity. And this Romanism, this rationalized Christianity, was transplanted—as Khomyakov argues—into the barbaric soul of Central and Western Europe, where its most significant instincts and impulses were introduced. Only such a Christianity could have produced: the subjugation of every foreign opinion, the imposition of one’s own opinion upon every other opinion, and hence perpetual war and subjugation; so says Khomyakov, who, from the Russian perspective, wishes to label the entire culture of Central and Western Europe as “barbarism.” And one of his successors, Aksakov, declared—in complete agreement with Khomyakov—that if one were to survey Western European barbarism, one would find everywhere a spirit of subjugation, hatred, and restriction of freedom, whereas—as Aksakov believes—the entire Russian essence is permeated in its depths by “freedom, harmony, and peace.”

[ 10 ] Ladies and gentlemen, one of the figures who played a particularly influential role in the further development of this “Slavism”—the continuation of which is today called Pan-Slavism—is Danilevsky. It is precisely in him that what the Russian soul is capable of thinking—what it perceives as thought—is truly expressed regarding what is termed “barbarism” by Central and Western Europe; what, following Danilevsky, must be called, from the Russian perspective, the “decayed intellectual life of the West.” This is the expression that we have encountered time and again, especially in recent times.

[ 11 ] Danilevsky attempts to illustrate how certain types of cultural development appeared successively in the historical evolution of the barbaric European West—[the] Romance-Germanic type, which, according to Danilevsky, was initially obscured by a haze. It is characterized by the fact that people were unable to penetrate to that which can touch the soul in its deepest depths—[that which] can fill the soul with the awareness that it is connected to the divine spirit of the world. For the Romance-Germanic being, however, this awareness was merely something intellectual, something external, scientific and rational. The current Germanic type of European life must be replaced by the genuinely Russian type, and this genuinely Russian type must know that for those who belong to such a cultural type, there is nothing in the whole wide world but their connection to this cultural type. Everything that can serve as a blessing for the future of humanity must be found in what the Russian people bring to bear; what lies within these forces of the Russian people must also arise from the tasks of this Russian people.

[ 12 ] [The following sentence is a questionable reading] And what follows from such tasks is correct, but what does not follow from them is false. It strikes the German sense of truth as strange to hear that among the things that should be considered voices of truth—as, for Danilevsky, the expansion of Russia into the Balkans and the conquest of Constantinople [belonged]. He spoke of how philosophical truth and one’s view of the world depend on striving to conquer Constantinople. Let me present a sample—a small sample, I might say—of what such a view can bring to light.

[ 13 ] Danilevsky says that for Russia, “the next goal is the annexation of Constantinople,” [...] “without regard for the consequences this might have for Europe itself, for humanity, freedom, and culture.” This, he says, is the goal to strive for. “Without love and without hate—for in this world alien to us,” [that is] everything that exists outside the unique cultural type of the Russian people, “nothing can arouse our sympathy or antipathy—to the same extent indifferent to all, to Reds and Whites [.——].” /Omission of an illegible passage] “The balance of political powers in Europe is the most harmful and dangerous thing for Russia; any violation of it, no matter which side it comes from, is therefore useful and desirable. [...] We must definitively renounce any solidarity with European interests.”

[ 14 ] Ladies and gentlemen, one of the greatest figures produced by Eastern European culture, a truly unique and significant mind, Soloviev, did not find these views at all clear. It was clear to Soloviev, too, that Western European culture was ripe for decline. It was clear to Soloviev, too, that salvation could come solely from the Russian spirit, but Soloviev was able to recognize that he could commit himself to what he saw as promising for the future—because it held such immense potential—in the essence of the Russian people: that which this people currently harbors in its soul—indeed, precisely in the souls of its leading figures—in the form of chaotic and disordered forces. And so Soloviev, the great philosopher, became within Russia itself the harshest critic of that very Russian essence characterized by Khomyakov, Danilevsky, Katkov, Aksakov, and others—an essence that has found its outward expression, I might say, its symptomatic expression, in what Russia is currently planning against Europe in a greedy and [illegible word] appropriation.

[ 15 ] Soloviev accused those among whom he himself enjoyed spending time—the Slavophiles— [that] they had no sense of what is truly ideal, truly spiritual—that they confused this with the great deceptions of culture, with what is merely [commodity], which should only exist among those who are fools, people for sale, for sale for every catchphrase thrown in the path of culture. And so it was precisely Soloviev, the Russian himself—of whom it cannot be said that he was, so to speak, a friend of the Western European spirit—who found the words to characterize what was taking shape spiritually there, words we can truly believe because of his sincere philosophical spirit, and because of his deepest immersion in the Russian national soul. Thus Soloviev said: “Europe [...] looks upon us with fear and resentment, for the elemental power of the Russian people is dark and enigmatic, its spiritual and cultural powers are inferior, while its claims, on the other hand, are clear, determined, and grand. The clamour of our nationalism resounds loudly throughout Europe—a nationalism that seeks to destroy Turkey and Austria, to defeat the Germans, and to seize Constantinople and, if it could, India as well.”

[ 16 ] Politics is—as Soloviev already said at the end of the nineteenth century—everything that stands in opposition to those who set the tone for the Russian people. [Gap in the transcript]

[ 17 ] “If we were asked how we intend to bring happiness to humanity after seizing and destroying all of that, we could only remain silent or spout meaningless platitudes. [...] Thus [...] the most fundamental—indeed, the only important—question that honest and reasonable patriotism should address lies not in Russia’s power and mission, but in its sins.”

[ 18 ] Not a German, not a Western European—Soloviev, the most profound expert on contemporary Russia, uttered these words. But Soloviev did something else as well. Soloviev once took a look at those whom he could regard as the precursors of what stands before us today in such a painfully moving way. He looked at all those who had seduced the Russian soul into believing in its Pan-Slavic mission. And what did he discover? He found a rich body of Pan-Slavic literature all around him. He came upon something strange—something he felt compelled to characterize in this way: “Yes, what do you want, anyway? You want to accuse the West of having a rotten culture, a culture sunk into barbarism! You say that all the salvation of humanity must come solely from what lives today in the Russian people; you spread this using solely scientific principles, [but only] in scientific guise! I have looked into where [you] got this scientific guise from!”

[ 19 ] And he had scrutinized them, scrutinized them closely. He had once taken a close look—I would say, if the word were not inappropriate— I’ll say it anyway—at their “intellectual fingers,” and he realized that the thought forms, the intellectual intentions with which these people worked as seducers, were all taken from the rotten West; and, curiously enough, he found the most important of these thought forms—the one Slavophilism worked with—in the Western European philosopher de Maistre, who was deeply steeped in Jesuitism. These Slavophiles did not even bother to study [Joseph Marie Comte] de Maistre himself, but rather [Gaston] Bergeret, a somewhat [illegible word] of mind. A Western, corrupt European essence provided the impetus for Slavic theories.

[ 20 ] And [he] kept a close eye on Danilevsky with regard to his [cultural]-historical types. And Soloviev found a half-mad writer, [Heinrich] Rückert, [who] wrote a book in the 1850s that scientifically exposed the follies that Danilevsky [illegible word] [commits regarding the development of contemporary history]. That was the discovery Soloviev made regarding the influences that surrounded him. These, then, were the weapons drawn from the West to label that West as a decayed culture. Well, my esteemed audience, I would like to say that this statement about the barbaric, decayed West—which is entirely steeped in intellectual culture and violence—resonates like a fundamental tone throughout the entire intellectual life of the East in recent centuries. If one looks more closely, one must say that all those in the East who speak of the West in this way have become sleepy and dreamy—while everything that has been incorporated into the heart of Europe from the depths of the German soul and the universal world culture has remained clear-eyed. Even what we call our treasures—which stem from Fichte, Schiller, Goethe, and others, not all of whom can be named, of course—have become dreamy.

[ 21 ] But, my esteemed audience, if one were to attempt, in a forceful manner, to bring to the East that which has sprung from the soil there —a soil that is so often regarded as barbaric—to the souls there, if one tries to give them what has just been discussed, then one fails to make an impact, as the noble [illegible name] had to learn, who transplanted German Hegelian idealism to Russia. He did so in the most beautiful way, but not only did [he] fail to find any resonance, he was met everywhere with nothing but rejection, opposition, ridicule, and scorn. And if one looks more closely at what all this is based on, it turns out that the entire way in which the German spirit relates to that which it has to offer world culture—not merely as the representative of some historical type, but as the outflow from the depths of its soul—how the German spirit relates to all of this: the deep connection of the German spirit to its worldview, the sprouting of its German worldview from the deepest depths of the soul—the depths in which the soul is fused with the divine-spiritual.

[ 22 ] We see this approach best expressed in Goethe, Schiller [and] Fichte, and it may well be time today to turn our attention precisely to this: that for a future that will most certainly come, Germans will also need intellectual weapons from the armories established by our national spirits—spirits such as Schiller and Fichte.

[ 23 ] And not to evoke sentimental feelings, but—I would say—to truly present before the eye of our soul what the German essence is, as embodied by two significant representatives of that essence—linking precisely to those moments in the lives of two great minds of the German people, Schiller and Fichte—to the moments when these minds left the physical world and crossed over into another world of spiritual life, to the moments of Schiller’s and Fichte’s deaths—[let us] link this with that fervor with which the German so readily expresses the /illegible word/, which is also immediate, and even now the word: “Spiritual-Human.” [Together with] those /illegible word/ who are called upon to watch over the spiritual life of the German people in this new era, we can also look back, through what has been handed down to us historically, upon the final moments of Schiller’s life.

[ 24 ] There, the younger Voß—son of the Homer translator Voß—leads [us] into Schiller’s death chamber; there he shows us how, even in the weeks and days before Schiller laid down to rest for the last time, [how] in his entire demeanor and conduct before the world and [to] people [speak] of the immense inner victory of the spirit, the soul—the language [that] comes upon a body that is, in fact, already dead—, [this] was written down by Schiller with the immense strength he mustered /gap in the stenographic record] during these final days, but written down with full vigor. Then he had to lie down. Then we see how, in his final moments, he still turned his soul toward this—toward that which he had sought to reveal to humanity from the spiritual worlds—[we] see how he then, as his youngest child was brought to him by those around him, took the child into his arms, looked deeply into its eyes, and revealed this child— [looking] into the child’s eyes, revealing something profoundly meaningful, perhaps painfully tragic, [which we] can grasp in his soul. Then he gave the child back, [and] turned away; he could speak only disjointed sentences.

[ 25 ] Once again, not to stir up sentimental feelings in you, but to show how one of the greatest Germans is connected to the spiritual essence and the very essence of his people, attention should be drawn to this story by Schiller. For truly, we can say—without being sentimental—that the gaze he cast upon his child—which, according to Voß, was meant to express how much he would have wanted to be for the child but could not—that gaze—one might think it encompassed the entire German people—was meant to convey how much more he should have been for them but could no longer be, and with regard to this people; yes, Schiller—he articulated what he thought about the world-historical mission of his people, what he thought about everything connected with what he himself had wanted to be for his people—that which Schiller, as in a kind of testament—it was only discovered later, a century after Schiller wrote it down; it only came to light with the opening of the Schiller Archive— in it one sees what Schiller thought the German essence—arising from this spiritual worldview—must be for humanity. Let us allow these words, which have constantly come to the fore in the German soul in recent times, to come to the fore in our own souls:

He who shapes and masters the spirit [,
must ultimately reign, for
at the end of time, if the
world has a plan, if human
life has any meaning at all, finally
morality and reason must prevail,
the brute force of form must yield
and the slowest people will catch up with all
the swift and fleeting ones.
[...]
the Highest is destined,
and just as he is situated in the midst of
the peoples of Europe,
so he is the core of humanity,
while they are the blossom and the] leaf.

[He is chosen by the World Spirit, during the struggle of time
to work on the eternal edifice of human development
to preserve what time brings,
therefore, he has thus far appropriated what is foreign
and preserved it within himself.
Everything of value that arose in other times
and among other peoples—which, over time,
came into being and faded away—he has preserved;
it remains his: the treasures of
centuries.
Not to shine for a moment and
play its part, but to win the great
process of time. Every nation
has its day in history, yet
the day of the Germans is the] harvest of
all of time.

[ 26 ] Ladies and gentlemen, what Schiller meant here is precisely what he had to believe—given his deep connection to the German spirit—namely, that it would provide the impetus for a global mission of this German spirit.

[ 27 ] But what one can truly believe—if it is merely heard, perceived, sensed, and felt by those who can only think it halfway or not at all, who are not connected to the German essence—is that it comes across as [an] aggressive entity, truly so, in such a way that it brings about what one must call—because it has already developed and will continue to develop more and more— [a] necessity for the German to defend what he holds as his spiritual treasure against the whole world.

[ 28 ] [The following sentence is a questionable reading] In this sense, Schiller, the cosmopolitan, was never, at his core, a negative spirit—he who was, after all, not blind to external circumstances and interests. He thus looked deep into the essence of the German character. After all—and this shows just how little he was blind to external circumstances—he also spoke these words:

Two mighty nations [struggle
For sole dominion over the world;
To devour the freedom of all nations,
They brandish the trident and the lightning bolt.

Every land must weigh gold for them
And, like Brennus in those barbaric times,
The Frank lays his iron sword
On the scales of justice.

The Briton stretches out his merchant fleets
Greedily, like the arms of an octopus;
And the realm of the free Amphitrite
He wishes to enclose, as if it were his own] home.

[ 29 ] Schiller could certainly have been a realist politician as well.

[ 30 ] Another phenomenon—one that comes into view when we seek to truly examine what German impulses are, [those] that have flowed into German development—is Fichte, Johann Gottlieb Fichte, Fichte, the great philosopher, but at the same time the great man. And once again, let us first bring to mind the final moments of Fichte’s outward earthly existence: At a time when Germany lay prostrate, deeply beset by the West of Europe, it was as if Fichte—I would say indirectly—succumbed to the events of the war at that time. Fichte’s wife, a remarkable woman, had brought home [hospital fever following] her service at the military hospital.

[ 31 ] [She] herself recovered; it had been transplanted to a spruce tree, and the tree died. In its final moments, we see something most remarkable unfold:

[ 32 ] In his feverish delirium, the philosopher—the philosopher who had uttered those momentous words: “One chooses philosophy as one’s worldview, which in turn depends on how one is shaped as a human being according to one’s character”—the philosopher in whom humanity and thought were in the most intimate harmony—lay there in his feverish dream. He was, after all, connected—not outwardly, but from the deepest fibers of his human being—connected to the events of the time. In times of great pain and difficulty, he had delivered the speeches in which he presented the world’s calling to the German spirit in a uniquely powerful and majestic way. There he lay in delirium—the feverish fantasy of the crystal-clear philosopher—moving through the theater of war at that time; this feverish dream of the clear-minded philosopher took him to Blücher’s crossing of the Rhine, and when news of German victories reached him, he expressed his deepest satisfaction at what he was only able to experience in a feverish dream. The soul had triumphed over the external physical realm within him as well, when his [illegible words] spoke. As he lay there in the depths of his joy, in a vivid dream, and saw the medicine before him, [he pushed it away and said:] “I will recover!” and he lay down and died.

[ 33 ] This most “German” of philosophers—yet also the philosopher who saw it as the German people’s calling to grasp the spirituality of the entire world—is a man of a single mold, born of an inner unity. We need not point out today what the central idea of this speech is. As Fichte attempts to show here, the German essence differs from the Western European essence [in that the German speaks an] original language that arose from his most elementary development, whereas the Romance-speaking peoples speak a language that was later grafted onto them—and thus cannot possibly be connected to the deepest sources of life itself—while the German, by virtue of his language, was bound to be connected to them. We need only draw attention to the deep, genuine pathos with which Fichte presents the German essence to his people.

[ 34 ] What spiritual science may assert with regard to Fichte, however, is that Fichte, drawing from immense depths, ceaselessly emphasizes the spiritual foundation of the world; indeed, everything in his philosophy and in his thinking that transcended his own people was drawn from the insight he believed he had gained into the deepest essence of his people. Truly, every external view of the world—everything that seeks to rely solely on the material—finds its formidable opponents in Fichte’s original German worldview. Thus Fichte says:

She [beholds] time [and] eternity and infinity

[ 35 ] —and he is referring to German philosophy—

in [its origin in] the emergence and becoming visible of that One, which is in itself utterly invisible and is grasped—truly grasped—only in this very invisibility of its own.] [...] [All persistent existence that appears as non-spiritual life is merely an empty shadow cast out of vision, mediated in manifold ways by Nothingness; in contrast to this, and through the recognition of it as a manifoldly mediated Nothingness, vision itself is to rise to the recognition of its own Nothingness and to the acknowledgment of the invisible as the] only [Truth.]

[ 36 ] But, my esteemed audience, not only did Fichte generally point to the spiritual foundation of the world—from which the human soul must draw its own impetus in the most difficult situations and in the highest tasks—and not merely because spiritual science today may refer to Fichte in such a way that one must say: that spiritual science which seeks to influence the future of humanity must seek its sources in what the German spirit has revealed to the essence of the world in a crystal-clear and profoundly heartfelt manner—not only that Fichte thus pointed to all the spiritual foundations of the world, which justifies spiritual science in to say this, but precisely in Fichte it has been shown how one who, drawing from the entire essence of the German national soul, seeks to create his philosophy as the profound and true expression of his own soul—how he felt and sensed what spiritual science must elevate to full clarity today and in the future.

[ 37 ] Fichte did not yet have a science of the spirit, but within him lived the feelings and sensibilities that can only be penetrated by genuine spiritual research; these sensibilities and feelings point to those worlds toward which the science of the spirit seeks to direct its research today. And let us draw attention to just one point to show how spiritual science can truly point to Fichte. Spiritual science today is grounded in an extraordinarily active science, and [it asserts] that all external science, which relies solely on thought and the external senses, can reveal only one—the lesser—aspect of the world; that—in order to discover the true content of the world—an active science must intervene, one that appeals to the hidden powers of the soul, which must be drawn forth from the soul, and which lead to spiritual ears and spiritual eyes. Then it can be shown—through such powers, my esteemed audience—that human beings can truly know something about what lies beyond birth and death. Spiritual science does not merely speak ignorantly about what the entire spiritual human being is, but rather that, if a person only undergoes the necessary methods, they can reach a point where this spiritual nature of the human being, which passes through the gate, can be observed just as external substance can be observed. Humanity does not want to [illegible word]. But this is what humanity will come to know in the future through spiritual science—and spiritual science will then speak of this just as external science speaks of oxygen and hydrogen—that the human soul is something that cannot be known as long as [it] is linked to the body, but can be known by spiritual researchers when [it] is separated from the physical body.

[ 38 ] Today, people believe this just as little as someone who has never heard of chemistry [believes] that there is hydrogen in water, [which] burns, [while] water extinguishes. But just as there is physical chemistry today, so there will be a spiritual chemistry. It will speak of the fact that one can truly investigate and observe the eternal nature of the human being. Fichte could not yet speak of this. The time for spiritual science will come only in our own era. But the following is very remarkable: When the spiritual researcher speaks today of the eternal core of the human being, he would say that after death this core receives its spiritual eyes and ears, [listens to and] looks upon [the] physical body it has left behind, just as we look upon the external world today.

[ 39 ] Of course, in today’s lecture I can only touch on all of this—not go into detail—but merely suggest that what I have just said will be integrated into spiritual culture in the same way that the natural sciences were centuries ago. And just as people once resisted the scientific worldview, [so] [do they resist] spiritual science today. Now we discover something curious in Fichte—something that the ordinary admirer might overlook in his speeches. This foreshadows something curious. He wants to say that he has conceived of an education through which the German people could enter [into] an era in which the German people free themselves from all foreign domination. He said that those who are wholly caught up in the present—[those who are wholly ensnared by prejudices]—do not dream of such an education, and now he wants to explain how what he desires—[the new]—appears to him in contrast to [the old]; here he expresses himself in a very peculiar way. The focus should be less on thoughts and more on what lies in his sensibility.

Die Zeit

[ 40 ] — said Fichte —,

seems to me like [an empty shadow], [standing over his corpse—from which an army of diseases has just driven him out—wailing, unable to tear his gaze away from the shell he once loved so dearly, and desperately trying every means to get back into the dwelling of the plagues. True, the life-giving breezes of the other world, into which the departed has entered, have already taken her in and surround her with a warm breath of love; true, secret voices of her sisters already greet her joyfully and welcome her; true, something is already stirring and expanding within her in all directions to develop the more glorious form into which she is to grow, yet she still has no sense of these breezes or no hearing for these voices—or, if she did, she is consumed by grief over her loss, believing she has lost herself.

[ 41 ] Here, however, Fichte is not speaking from a humanities perspective; rather, he is expressing sensations and feelings that a modern scholar of the humanities could not express any other way.

[ 42 ] We may say, my esteemed audience, that the development in which Fichte intervened in such a way is destined to give the world much precisely of what constitutes spiritual knowledge of the world—of what constitutes the science of spiritual life. And one can understand, my esteemed audience, that those who are not deeply rooted in this German essence cannot help but sense something unknown to them within it—something that, in a certain sense, is dangerous to them. A guilty conscience develops toward such an unknown, which one does not wish to approach, and it expresses itself in accusations such as that of “barbarism.” But has this always been the case? In this regard, it is truly not uninteresting to examine how the German spirit, throughout its entire development, has influenced outstanding minds of other nations.

[ 43 ] It is certainly not [illegible word] to characterize the German essence within us Germans ourselves, if one is to find one’s own words for it. Of course, it must be permissible to highlight those who are the representatives of this German essence. But when we hear today that the Germans are “barbarians,” [and] hear this from all sides, then it is surely appropriate—not only because this accusation of “barbarism” mocks German identity, but also because it affects many of those who are, I might say, the intellectual representatives of the nations hostile to us— it is appropriate to examine, for once, what eminent intellectual representatives of other nations thought about the German character—as it [illegible words]—during more peaceful times, based on the sources just mentioned. [We should point] above all to Emerson, the outstanding representative of America. He spoke the following words about the German character:

One [quality in particular, which Goethe shares with his entire nation, makes him, in the eyes of both French and English audiences, an outstanding figure: that everything about him is based solely on inner] truth.

[ 44 ] These words were not spoken in German in Belgium in front of the French, [but] they were spoken in English by Emerson. He goes on to say:

In England and America, talent is respected, but people are satisfied only when it works for or against a party they support. In France, people are delighted simply to see brilliant ideas, no matter where they lead. In all these countries, however, gifted men write to the extent of their abilities. If what they present stimulates the discerning reader and contains nothing that offends good taste, it is considered sufficient. So many columns, so many hours spent pleasantly and usefully.] The German Spirit

[ 45 ] — that is what Emerson says in English —,

The German mind possesses neither [the French vivacity nor the Englishman’s practical acumen, nor, finally, the American spirit of adventure; what it does possess, however, is a certain probity that never stops at the outward appearance of things, but always returns to the central question: “Where is this leading?” The German public demands that a writer rise above things and simply speak his mind. Intellectual vivacity is present—very well: What does it stand for? What is the man’s] opinion? [Where does it come from?]—where does he get all these thoughts?”

[ 46 ] And Emerson goes on to say:

The English [see only the individual; they do not know how to view humanity as a whole according to higher laws.

Germans think for] Europe.

[ 47 ] No German ever said that: “The English do not fathom the depth of the German [spirit],” as Emerson puts it in English.

[ 48 ] From such statements, we can see where the opposition lies—an opposition that has already taken shape and will continue to grow, directed not only against Germany’s external political reality but also against German intellectual life. German intellectual life must be defended, and one must know the methods and the weapons with which to defend it. Emerson goes on to say:

For this reason, the terms used to make distinctions in [higher-level conversation are all of German origin].

[ 49 ] In doing so, he explains why this German essence is so unsettling to other peoples: because the German origins of this [German] essence were responsible for creating the concepts of distinction necessary for higher spiritual insight. The German essence, however, will have to defend these concepts of distinction.

While the English and French—who are distinguished for their acumen [and erudition]—view their studies and their perspectives with a certain superficiality, and their personal character is not deeply connected to what they have grasped or to the way they express themselves about it], Goethe says,

[ 50 ] — and again, not Goethe alone, but rather the essence and substance of the German nation —,

[Not because he has talent, but because the truth focuses its rays within his soul and shines] forth [from it].

[ 51 ] Thus Emerson says that Goethe is the head of the German nation; the truth shines forth from Goethe’s soul, and the truth is concentrated in that soul with its rays.

He is wise to the highest degree, [even though his wisdom may “often be veiled by his talent.” No matter how excellent what he says may be, he has something even better in mind.] [...] [He possesses that awe-inspiring independence that springs from communion with the truth.]

[ 52 ] The impression this terrifying independence makes on others certainly gives rise to the very thing with which they seek to save themselves from this terrifying independence. It gives rise to the accusation of “barbarism.” One might say: That was a long time ago; Emerson wrote those words in the [first] half of the nineteenth century, and yet this is constantly being rammed down our throats with fury—how the Germans have declined since those times when Goethe, Fichte, and Schiller were woven into the fabric of this nation.

[ 53 ] Well, that would sound true if, on the other hand, [there weren’t] other words [written] by an English scholar not long before the outbreak of the current war. In a city in northern England, these words were spoken by Herford, the scholar, because, as he says, he wanted to use his words to draw the attention of the English newspaper-reading public to what lies at the heart of the German character. Well, as for what the English newspaper-reading public thinks of the words I am about to read to you—words spoken in England not long before the war by that learned man—you know that from what you find in English newspapers today. Herford says:

The highly privileged elite among [Descartes’ and Newton’s] compatriots

[ 54 ] — by which he means the French and the English —

The spirit of science was undoubtedly well known; but the passionate drive for knowledge was taught to modern Europe—if at all—primarily by [thousands of German] researchers

[ 55 ] —, not in [illegible word], spoken in England in English.

The imagination, [along with feeling and the will, asserted its right to be heard alongside reason or even beyond it, and under their transformative pressure, the universe became deeper, vaster, and more wondrous. The irrational] was recognized [as a source of enlightenment]; [wisdom was drawn from the child and the flower; science, philosophy, and poetry drew closer together.]

[ 56 ] — said the Englishman, let’s compare it to what the [illegible words] said.

Here in England

[ 57 ] — so says the Englishman in English —

[This revival of the imagination gave rise to noble poetry, but left the sciences and philosophy almost untouched. One of the keys to understanding the entire period is the fact that, while in England and France the poetic, philosophical, and scientific movements largely flowed along separate channels, in Germany] they intersected and [or] merged completely. [Wordsworth sang and Bentham calculated;] Hegel, [however, ensnared the genius of poetry in the web of his logic; and the thought that discovers and explains, and the imagination that brings forth the new, worked together in fruitful harmony in the genius] of Goethe.

[ 58 ] And here is another quote from the Englishman shortly before the war:

In *Faust* [at the end of his eventful life, we see a foreshadowing of today’s Germany—the Germany of restless, bold ambition and action—and we can understand all the better why the great cosmopolitan, in whose eyes the state and national identity were subordinate and sometimes harmful ideals, nevertheless maintained his unassailable position as the greatest poet of the German] Empire [alongside Bismarck,] its creator.

[ 59 ] And here is a dictum—spoken not in Belgium in French, but in England in English—by the same Englishman who characterized the German character: “No German words are more deeply [imbued with the essence of national ethics than those that denote these things: true, thorough, faithful.]” .

[ 60 ] That was the sentiment coming to us from across the Channel shortly before the war. Anyone who then says—simply because German cannons are a nuisance or because the war that had to be fought is not “social”—that the Germans are “barbarians” must claim that, having just said that this person harbors the noblest thoughts in his mind and the noblest feelings in his heart, he is [a] boor because he will certainly have to use his hands. Such a judgment is in poor taste, and no sophistry can make up for it.

[ 61 ] And the same Englishman went on to say in those lectures which, as mentioned, he gave to train journalists:

[On the whole, there is no question that the establishment of the German Empire has been conducive to world peace. This statement will seem strange] to those who know nothing [but the events of the present, and for whom history is nothing more than an ever-changing, dazzling] movie. [But history should be something more than that. It is fitting for history to shed the light of the past on the chaotic turmoil of the present, and in that higher light, things that appear offensive will take on a natural appearance. For when we look to the past, we find that our ancestors regarded France with far greater fear than even the wildest rabble-rousers today] fear Germany.

[ 62 ] Shortly before the outbreak of the war, this was heard from across the Channel.

And the fear of our ancestors —

[ 63 ] he means the fear of France —

[had its good reason.] [...] So, [to sum it all up], it can be shown [that the founding of the German Empire was a benefit for Europe, and therefore also for] Great Britain.

[ 64 ] — so says the Englishman —

For the events [of the years 1866–1871 put an end, once and for all, to the possibility of waging wars of aggression against the hitherto unprotected heart of Europe, and thereby eliminated a temptation to war that had so often led France astray in earlier centuries; they enabled the German people to develop their political capabilities, which had hitherto been stunted; and they helped to establish, on a secure foundation, a new European system that] has maintained peace for forty years. This blessing stemmed from the fact [that German unity achieved in one fell swoop what Great Britain, despite all its expenditure of blood and money, had never been able] to accomplish, namely, to secure the balance [of power] in such a decisive manner [that a major war became the most dangerous of all] ventures.

[ 65 ] If this is what England’s courage holds to be the result of this historical reflection, then one is probably speaking in its spirit—although it will not say so itself, because in the present, as they say [gap in the transcript]—then all the chatter and rambling today about the German character [gap in the transcript]. This includes what he refers to [gap in the transcript]: “[On the whole and in the grand scheme of things, there is no question that the establishment of the German Empire has been conducive to world peace.] This statement will seem strange [to those who know nothing but the events of the present, and] to those [for whom] [history is nothing but an ever-changing, dazzling] cinematic spectacle.” Indeed, it truly seems today as if people believe they need know nothing about the present. And he reminds us [to] understand everything that has happened since 1914.

[ 66 ] [Lord] Haldane, a name that has [illegible word] caught your attention in the history of humanity, wrote a preface to the printed version of his lecture. And Haldane wrote in this preface:

[The source of the current of his intellectual and political life lies in the Reformation. At the end of the eighteenth and the beginning of the nineteenth century, however, a movement unique in world history began to flow in a way that has been as uninterrupted as it has been distinctive ever since. Since the days of ancient Greece, the world has not witnessed such a spectacle of the closest fusion of the life of the statesman with that of the thinker. The spirit of today’s Germany is highly concrete] and practical.

[ 67 ] And then he explained why he wrote this:

The influence of true knowledge [alone can dispel the clouds of mistrust and free us from the burden of having to arm ourselves against attacks that, in reality, none of us] intends.

[ 68 ] Ladies and gentlemen, it may not be possible to summarize in just a few words what is characteristic of these judgments that outstanding individuals from other nations have made about the German spirit in other eras. One can only sense all that is currently taking place in the world in the form of assaults and attacks on German intellectual life—and against which German intellectual life must also defend itself. After all, we have had to witness, for example, that an outstanding Belgian intellectual—who wrote his works in French and was particularly highly regarded in Germany—namely Maurice Maeterlinck, leveled the bitterest accusations against what he calls German “barbarism”—that he has completely aligned himself with the street rabble and used terms like so-called German “barbarism,” which are worthy solely of such street rabble.

[ 69 ] But let us listen—I’ll just say [illegible word]—to a compatriot of Maeterlinck, another writer who wrote in the same language as he did. He seeks to describe the influence he experienced, among other things, from the German spirit, where it manifested itself most profoundly, for example in Novalis: This French Belgian—I mean to say, this compatriot of Maeterlinck’s—we will soon see how close he is to Maeterlinck—says that when one allows something like what Novalis created out of the German spirit to take effect upon oneself, one can say that in Europe there are truly no words at all to characterize the significance of this unique essence of Novalis. One must coin the words in the following way: when Shakespeare wrote this or that: [When Shakespeare or] Sophocles [have their characters act,] they deal with human affairs that interest people on Earth. Novalis created something from the depths of the German spirit that need not interest only people on Earth—if one were to imagine that angelic beings, cosmic entities, had descended to Earth. And if one wanted to offer them something that would interest them, one must not come with Shakespeare [or] Sophocles. That has no meaning for them; one must come with something that is so imbued with the sources of the Eternal—which also has meaning for other spiritual, ethereal worlds—as what Novalis has written. And what does this compatriot of Maeterlinck do when he speaks in this way of what he has received from Novalis regarding the Eternal, the Weaving of the Soul:

But if he [needed further proof, she would count him among those whose works border on silence.]

[ 70 ] By “silence” he means that the words of language cannot express what one has to say.

[She would open the gates of the realm where some loved her for her own sake, without concerning themselves with the subtle gestures of her body. Together they would ascend to the lonely plateaus, where consciousness rises to a higher level, and where all those filled with restlessness about themselves attentively survey the immense ring that links the world of phenomena with our higher worlds. She would go with him to the boundaries of humanity; for at the point where man seems to end, he probably only begins, and his most essential and inexhaustible parts lie only in the invisible, where he must be constantly on guard. Only on these heights are there thoughts that the soul can approve of, and ideas that resemble it and are as commanding as the soul itself. There, humanity reigned for a moment, and these dimly lit peaks are perhaps the only lights that herald the Earth in the spirit realm. [Their reflection truly bears the color of our soul. We sense that the passions of the mind and body would resemble the tolling of bells in the eyes of an alien reason; but the people of whom I speak have, in their works, emerged from the small village of passions and have spoken words that are of value even to those [who do not belong to the earthly] community.[/p]

[ 71 ] Well, ladies and gentlemen, I have kept you occupied for a while with these words from a figure—as I said, one close to Maeterlinck. One might well believe that what this person feels—had she been able to speak these words—when she heard what Maurice Maeterlinck recently presumed to say about the German character—had she been able to speak these words, this soul:

In truth, [it is difficult to listen to one’s soul and hear its faint, childlike voice amid the useless] clamor that surrounds it.

[ 72 ] But, my esteemed audience, I have only been /[illegible word]] misleading you for a moment. The one who said what I just read to you about Novalis is, in fact, Maeterlinck himself. And the one who spoke of the useless loudmouths is likewise Maeterlinck himself. It is /illegible word] a trifle to form a judgment about the mindset underlying the remark about the German “barbarians.”

[ 73 ] [Illegible word], my esteemed audience, it was already in the year 1870 when the German [David Friedrich] Strauss published his correspondence with Renan, the author of “The Life of Jesus.” The Frenchman spoke some remarkable words at that time about the German character; he spoke them at the very moment when Germany had already brought war upon France in 1870. Renan pointed out that it was only later in life that he became acquainted with German intellectual life. I would like to convey to you, in Renan’s own words, what [illegible word] is in German intellectual life:

[ 74 ] “Germany,” says Renan, “has brought about the most significant [revolution of modern times—the Reformation—and, furthermore] [...] [one of the most beautiful intellectual developments,” which has added a level and a depth to the German spirit comparable to that of] [someone who knows only elementary mathematics versus someone who is well-versed in differential] calculus.

[ 75 ] One need not use German words to characterize what the German essence of the world is supposed to be. But now let us hear Renan himself express what he thought at the time about the future of Europe and its relationship to France. He spoke some very interesting words. He pointed out that there were two currents in France. The first is the one that says: We want to try not to cede anything to Germany; we want to try to establish order within France itself and form an alliance with Germany for the civilization of Europe. — But then he drew attention to another current that says: “We just want some peace and quiet; let’s cede Alsace-Lorraine, but then form an alliance with anyone with whom we can join forces against the German race.”

[ 76 ] What kind of judgment is this, my esteemed audience? It means that a person—a person who is among the leaders of his nation—understands that what he has come to recognize in German intellectual life relates to other things that have been presented to him [just as differential calculus relates to elementary mathematics. ] And that same person finds it foolish that his people should now ally themselves with anyone who is an enemy of this German essence. Indeed, one must not treat history like a movie, but must delve deeper if one wishes to grasp the statement that the German essence will have much to defend in the world and that the mighty struggle is merely the outward, symptomatic expression [is]. And what other words do we hear from those who, out of their own inability—and let us use Renan’s words: to rise to the “differential calculus of culture”—call us “barbarians”? What else do we hear? We hear time and again that Germany is to blame for this world war. Only the short-sighted can really be expected to make such a statement. One can easily demonstrate, even from an external perspective, ladies and gentlemen, how what is now clashing in war has been prevailing and weaving its way through Europe for years, pressing for an outbreak. And in light of the currents prevailing in the European nations at the time, to claim that Germany wanted this war will one day be recognized as sheer nonsense—as the unscrupulous assertion of those whose lack of conscience stems from their fear of the very thing the Germans call “barbarism.”

[ 77 ] During the war of 1870, a man who had a broader perspective on European affairs said the following—let me add this as a final note.—Carl Vogt, the naturalist, said the following during the Franco-Prussian War:

As for me, [I have not a moment’s doubt that a conflict between the Germanic and Slavic worlds is imminent, that it will be ignited either by the East—specifically Turkey—or by the conflict over nationalities in Austria, perhaps by both, and that Russia will assume leadership on one side in this conflict. This power is already preparing for this eventuality; the nationalist Russian press is spewing fire and brimstone against Germany. [.—.] The German press is already sounding its warnings.]

[ 78 ] This was written in 1870.

A long time has passed since [Russia regrouped after the Crimean War, and it seems that it is now deemed expedient in [St. Petersburg] to raise the Eastern Question once again.] If the Mediterranean

[ 79 ] — he goes on to say —

[While it was once intended to be known by the expression “a French lake”—which is more pompous than accurate—Russia has the even more ambitious goal of turning the Black Sea into a Russian lake and the Sea of Marmara into a Russian pond. That Constantinople must become a Russian city and Greece a direct vassal state of Russia is a fixed goal of Russian policy, which finds its basis of support in their shared religion and in Pan-Slavism. The Danube would then be closed off at the Iron Gate, roughly at the Russian barrier.]

[ 80 ] And based on his understanding of the necessity of this war—and driven by the East’s desire—the author draws attention to this goal: just how critical it will become for Europe’s stability if the East were to find allies in Western Europe. /Omission of an illegible passage.]

[ 81 ] Finally, I would like to present something else to you as proof that we are not dealing with something that has only recently emerged in our present time, but rather with something that has necessarily developed out of the European conflict and that has called upon the Germans in Central Europe to defend this essence. I would like to describe in a few words what has been unfolding since at least 1914—for a little over a year now. Those who have followed contemporary history will know that what I intend to describe here truly reflects the circumstances of the time. What we witnessed in the East was the emergence of a certain press campaign that embraced the ideals of Pan-Slavism. And it shows—long before the assassination of the Austrian heir to the throne—what attempts were being made to satisfy Russia’s claims.

[ 82 ] One could put together the following words to describe what has happened over the past year or so: [...] how a sort of press campaign gradually began in St. Petersburg, [...] how Germany was suspected of having a certain intention. These [attacks] intensified in the following [weeks] to the point of strong [demands that we exert pressure on Austria in matters where we] could not [simply] challenge Austrian law. We could not go along with this, for [if we alienated Austria, we would—unless we wished to be completely isolated in Europe—necessarily become dependent on Russia. Would such dependence have been tolerable? One might previously have believed it could be, because we told ourselves: We have no conflicting interests; there is no reason whatsoever why Russia should ever sever its friendship with us. When one speaks with Russian friends about such disputes, one cannot exactly contradict them. However, events showed that even a complete subordination of our policy—for a certain time—to Russia’s did not protect us from coming into conflict with Russia against our will and against our aspirations.]

[ 83 ] This is how one might characterize what has taken place—well, let’s say up until the outbreak of the war. Ladies and gentlemen, the words I have just read to you describing these recent times are not my own. I must read these words to you once more, with a slight modification. They were spoken by Bismarck in the German Reichstag on February 6, 1888. Bismarck said:

[.—.] how, little by little, [a kind of press campaign began in St. Petersburg, through which German policy was attacked and I personally was suspected of ulterior motives. These attacks intensified over the course of the following year] until 1879 [into strong demands that we exert pressure on Austria in matters where we could not readily challenge Austrian law. I could not go along with that; for if we alienated Austria, we would—unless we wished to be completely isolated in Europe—necessarily fall into dependence on Russia. Would such dependence have been tolerable? I had previously believed it might be, telling myself: We have no conflicting interests at all; there is absolutely no reason why Russia should ever sever its friendship with us. At the very least, I had not outright contradicted my Russian colleagues who had explained this to me. The events surrounding the Congress disappointed me; they showed me that even a complete subordination of our policy (for a certain time) to Russia’s would not protect us from entering into conflict with Russia against our will and against our best efforts.

[ 84 ] The same words apply to 1914 as applied, in exactly the same sense, to 1888. And let anyone say that, in terms of its causes, this war was brought about by Central Europe in 1914. The current has always been there. But I believe that through the discussion I have only briefly outlined today, I have shown that the attack—which encircles Germany and Austria as if in a great fortress and would most gladly starve this Central Europe into submission—is not directed solely against the external structure, not solely against social and economic conditions, but will increasingly be directed against what constitutes the German soul, what constitutes the German spirit. Yet one can surmise—especially when considering minds such as Fichte and Schiller—that what lies at the heart of the German essence and its development is only just beginning to take shape.

[ 85 ] Through Fichte, we can explore in sensation and feeling that which must continually expand in our understanding of the spirit. To answer the question, “Why do they call [the people] a ‘barbarian people’?,” this answer] will essentially involve recognizing the fog that people seek to create to obscure what must necessarily be defended by the German people for the sake of the world’s development. The war of the present will be decided by German courage and German bravery. But we will need weapons drawn from the holiest essence of the German soul to defend that which, for the very same reason, will have to endure attacks—and indeed has already endured them—namely, the German spiritual essence. For this German spiritual essence—built upon a knowledge of the spirit and directed toward the knowledge of the spirit—has as its enemies everything that seeks to prevail merely in external philosophy, such as in the Spencerian or Danilevskian tradition; it even has as its adversaries that which was able to develop out of Descartes’s French philosophy, and so on, as well as whatever other philosophies may entail.

[ 86 ] This German essence derives its logic from deeper reasons—reasons in which it seeks to be connected, this German essence, with the spirit itself. And logic is indeed quite scarce in the attacks that are still nationalistic today, but when we look at philosophers such as [Emile] Boutroux, [illegible name], Bergson—[illegible word], no longer “Fils de Montagne”—when one looks at such philosophers, at how they speak of how the Germans have forgotten how to grasp the living [and] to look toward the spirit, how they have become through external materialism—then one might ask: Do you really believe that, after you have [surrounded] Germany on all sides, [Germany will] defend itself [by] reading Novalis, Schiller, and Goethe at its borders, and that these poets will not hear your cannons?

[ 87 ] You have proclaimed what emerged from the German spirit as nothing more than a mechanism. But that, too, cannot happen without drawing from the essence—which, as someone once aptly said of Fichte, had to be brought to light in [illegible words]—namely, that the irresistible nature of the essence lies in the ceaseless disposition of its spirit through [military] defense of the spiritual essence.

[ 88 ] The logic at work here shows just as little evidence of [illegible word] insight /[illegible word]] as it does of even a superficial overview of the facts. Using the same logic with which people today seek the cause of this war among the Germans, one could just as easily say that the Germans are to blame for being attacked from all sides today, for one can only attack them [because] they—the Germans—invented the art of printing. So they are to blame for the abuse heaped upon them. That is the same logic we hear so often today. For one can go even further and say that, after all, gunpowder is used in a barbaric war. One cannot say that the French invented gunpowder. One must indeed attribute the invention of war to the Germans. Thus, they are also to blame for the fact that this war—and all the wars of modern times—are being waged at all. But all of that is merely external [illegible text]. And as for what the German is called upon to draw forth from the depths of spiritual life—what is inherent in his finest minds, what his finest minds have pointed to—of that one must say: In its own natural development, it shows that it breathes the past; it also points to the future; it has inner causes and forces of development, and from these the German mind, the German soul, draws confidence and hope that its enemies will not overwhelm it, that it will find ways and means, and find the strength and endurance to defend the German essence for the world.

[ 89 ] Drawing on the feelings that have permeated everything I have been able to say to you today, I would like to offer a few concluding words in which I wish to capture what [illegible word] can emerge for our souls through contemplation of what is happening to the German spirit in our time, and what hostile powers have predicted and attributed to this German spirit.

[ 90 ] In response to everything that is said and chattered about the German spirit—in response to all that is said about the German spirit being in decline; not against the German spirit, not merely out of dark emotions, but out of a clear understanding of what the German spirit is—the words I would like to present to you, in which I would like to summarize the essence of this lecture, are as follows:

[The German spirit has not yet fulfilled
what it is meant to bring to the world.]
It [lives in hope] amid concerns for the future,
[It hopes for future deeds full of life.
In the depths of its being, it feels powerfully
something hidden that must still ripen and take effect.
How can the desire for his end take root,
Amid the enemy’s power, devoid of understanding,
As long as life reveals itself to him,
Which sustains him, creating him at the roots of his being.]