The Rudolf Steiner Archive

1. The Worldview of German Idealism: A Reflection in Light of Our Fateful Times

Ladies and gentlemen!

[ 1 ] The German people are engaged in a tremendously serious struggle. A struggle that shakes us all to the core and pulses through our veins. A struggle in which a new wave of our people’s destiny is to take shape out of blood and the deeds of arms.

[ 2 ] It is a time in which, one might say, the very extremes of human sensation, human feeling, and human imagination collide, flowing through our hearts. Deep sorrow, spreading over countless losses, pain, and grief, blood—all of this, in a sense, provides a foundation, but rising above it is an atmosphere of enthusiasm, an atmosphere of elation over what the members of the German people are permitted to do in order to preserve and secure—amid the iron necessity forced upon them—that position in the course of world history, that position within European culture, which they have inherited as a precious legacy from their forefathers, as a precious legacy of the historical development of Europe itself. In such a time, in which a new destiny is taking shape out of blood and military exploits: Indeed, when it comes to the most important matters of the present—of such a present—other words speak than those that can be spoken in a reflection such as the one we are having this evening. It is, of course in a figurative sense, the weapons that speak. Courage speaks; the bravery of those who have taken their stand on the great historical battlefields of our present events speaks.

[ 3 ] But especially in times like these, we must keep in mind everything that relates to the overall situation, to all the tasks at hand, and to the entire range of feelings and aspirations of the German people. Therefore, it is surely appropriate for us to devote a moment of reflection to what can take shape within our souls when we turn our gaze toward something that has not, however, taken form within military valor or within the arena of external events, but rather deep within the innermost core of our spiritual being itself. But we feel—perhaps even more so than usual, especially in a time such as this—just as blood flows through every part of the human organism, so a certain force, a certain essence, flows through all the expressions of life of the people. Therefore, let what I would like to call “the worldview of German idealism” be presented in tonight’s evening reflection as a symptom—as one of the symptoms—of the German spirit.

[ 4 ] I would like to present it as it has found its way into the various worldviews of the European peoples. The peoples who are fighting one another in our time have, in their interactions, also come into contact with one another through the very content of their worldviews and their conceptions of life. And in this struggle between worldviews and conceptions of life, what has emerged is precisely what can be called the worldview of German Idealism. I do not wish, esteemed audience, to fall into the same tone as Germany’s enemies do in our time when they endeavor to describe German thought and German sentiment to their own people. I believe it is even more in keeping with the German spirit to let the facts speak for themselves calmly—especially in this realm, where the innermost and most sacred treasures of the human soul are at stake. The judgment regarding the significance of the German people within the development of humanity must be formed through a calm, serious, and objective examination of the facts of humanity’s intellectual development itself.

[ 5 ] If one now considers the interrelationships of those peoples with whom the German people have come into contact in the course of their recent ideological struggles, if one examines these, then a guiding thread emerges precisely from the very perspective that has been adopted in these lectures for years now, even in this city, from this very place—the perspective of spiritual science, from which I have been privileged to lecture every winter for many years, including here in this city.

[ 6 ] If one wishes to look into the soul of a people, it is necessary first of all to examine the nature of individual human souls. I cannot discuss in full detail today the thoughts I have often expressed here regarding the individual human soul; I wish only to touch upon them from the perspective that will lead to our consideration today. Certain points that I will merely mention today will, after all, be the subject of tomorrow’s lecture, in which I will elaborate on them further. But as I point to some of what I have been allowed to say here over the years—and to say, moreover, on the basis of the foundations of spiritual science—let it be noted first of all that, in the eyes of spiritual research, this human soul does not present itself as the indeterminate turmoil of inner life, as it so often appears in today’s more—as one might say—positivist worldview. To spiritual science, this jumbling together of all the individual manifestations and structures of soul life—as is so often found in today’s external psychology—appears just as unscientific and just as unproductive for a true contemplation of life as it would seem to be, failing to decompose water into hydrogen and oxygen in scientific inquiry, for example, when one wishes to consider it in its connection with world phenomena. I have often explained, just as I am doing here, that just as the chemist decomposes water into hydrogen and oxygen in order to be able to consider it in its context within natural existence, so too must the spiritual observer investigate the structure of the human soul—a structure that is not an arbitrary abstraction, that does not correspond to a mere external judgment, but rather to a genuine experience of that which constitutes the entire scope of human soul life.

[ 7 ] The researcher of the spirit must first divide this human soul life into a sum of those processes that he designates by the term “sensory soul.” This sensory soul is connected to the elemental effects of the human soul—to that which, I might say, struggles free in a direct way from the physical, from the bodily realm. The sensory soul is connected to this; with that which still lies, in part, within our blood; with that which breaks free from our inner sensations to become impulses of our being, without our being able to fully illuminate it with the light of our consciousness. The sensory soul is a soul element, but it is the part of the human soul that is most intimately bound to the body of all the human soul elements. Yet it is also the aspect of the soul that causes the human being to direct his or her inner life outward. It is the aspect of the soul that animates the senses: the eyes, when they look out into the world that is to be observed by human beings; the other senses, when they come into contact with the surrounding world.

[ 8 ] A component of the soul that has already broken free to a greater extent, that is already more permeated by human consciousness—by the inner intentionality of the human soul—and that is less bound to the elemental aspects of human physical nature is the intellectual or emotional soul. Certainly, on the one hand, esteemed audience, this intellectual or emotional soul is freer from external physical nature than the sensory soul, but it is also poorer as a result. All the richness that is poured into our soul life by the fact that the elemental impulses of our entire human nature are poured precisely into the sensory soul is no longer present in the intellectual or emotional soul. As the emotional soul, it is inner, but it is more loosely connected to the entire scope of external natural life.

[ 9 ] The aspect of the soul through which a human being can most fully—I would say—fulfill his or her present-day task by virtue of the activity inherent in it is the conscious soul. It is the soul through which a human being most fully perceives himself as a personality, most fully becomes aware of himself as an individual within the fabric of the world. It is that through which a human being—I might say—can develop the highest degree of consciousness within themselves, through which they can know themselves as a self. But it is that aspect of the soul which, because it is the innermost, reveals the least about how a human being is connected to all the depths of external existence. It is the aspect of the soul which, because it is most intimately connected with human conscience—with what is most personal to a human being—is at the same time most oriented toward what a human being designates and must designate as his useful purposes, fulfilled in external existence.

[ 10 ] Just to use this other comparison as well, which shows how spiritual science thinks entirely in the spirit of natural science—just as there are seven colors in the rainbow, though we can reduce them to three—just as there are three color nuances in the rainbow, and the study of these three shades is not mere dilettantism but true science—the reddish-yellow shade, the greenish shade, the blue-violet shade—so too is the triad of these shades present in the life of the soul: the feeling soul, the intellectual or emotional soul, and the conscious soul. And just as the unified light is expressed through the shades of the rainbow, so too is that which we designate as the true “I,” as the reality of the human inner being, expressed through the shades of the soul—through the three, or I might also say, modes of activity of the human soul. Just as light appears through the yellow-reddish, the green, and the blue-violet, so does the “I” appear through the soul of sensation, the soul of understanding or emotion, and the soul of consciousness.

[ 11 ] Well, ladies and gentlemen, just as we can find this structure—which I have just outlined—in the individual human soul—as I said, I can only mention this today—so, too, we can only truly come to know the souls of peoples if we examine them from the perspective we gain from this view of the human soul itself. We then gain the insight that—insofar as national souls express themselves throughout human development—these national souls themselves are nuanced, such that one national soul expresses more of the character of the feeling soul, another more of the character of the intellectual or emotional soul, and yet another more of the character of the conscious soul. This is truly not an arbitrary way of looking at things. It is not—I would say—a forced abstraction to view the Western European peoples, the Western and Southwestern European peoples, in this way according to the character of their national souls. On the contrary: an unbiased immersion in the way the national soul expresses itself leads to such an understanding.

[ 12 ] From this perspective, let us consider, for example, the spiritual nature of the Italian people. Of course, distinguished guests, the individual stands out from his people if he strives for this [distinction]. But that is precisely why there is a national character that bears the nuance of the national soul. There is no need to construct anything arbitrarily; one need only address what—provided one has a guiding principle derived from an understanding of the human soul—arises quite naturally from the nature of the national soul. Then, it seems to me, the following consideration can be described as by no means fruitless.

[ 13 ] That aspect of the nature of the human soul which can be described as the nature of the feeling soul finds expression in the Italian soul. And if we, esteemed audience, turn our gaze—the gaze of our souls—even briefly toward the cultural development that has unfolded among the European peoples since the dawn of the modern cultural era, since the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, we find precisely in this the opportunity to get to know, without preconceptions, the various nuances of the soul and their mutual relationships and their mutual forces of influence, so to speak. We find emerging in a unique way in the sixteenth century that which one can say: It is the task that the Italian national soul in particular had by virtue of its character as a soul of feeling. Indeed, the very greatest achievements that came from this direction—as evidenced both from this period onward and through what immediately preceded it—bear witness to this very character.

[ 14 ] Let us consider the figure to whom attention is so often directed when speaking of the dawn of the modern worldview. Let us consider Giordano Bruno—he who fell victim to the fanaticism of the sixteenth-century worldview that opposed his own. When we allow this man’s unique worldview to sink in—we sense in this figure the lingering echoes of what comes to us from Dante. We sense in it—in Giordano Bruno’s worldview—the resonance of what meets us in the colors and richness of form found in the paintings of Raphael and Michelangelo. What do we find in all of this? Precisely when we delve into the way Giordano Bruno relates to the world—how he positions himself within it, surveying the entire cosmos, breaking through what the medieval worldview still perceived as an outer boundary— as he breaks through the firmament’s boundary and points out into infinite space—as he was able to do through his sensory perception animated by inner feeling—we can say to ourselves: He conjured up this worldview, which is as much scientific as it is artistic, out of immediate feeling, from the same inner activity of the soul through which Dante conjured up—into the mighty image he conceived of the spiritual worlds into which, according to his view, the soul passes through the gate of death—what he had felt through his own sensibilities, for the individual members of his people. The essential aspect—which can only be touched upon today—of Giordano Bruno’s worldview, as well as of the worldview held by his predecessor—from whom he adopted much—Telesius, and also of the worldview that Galileo wove into his own, we see everywhere that the main emphasis is on directing human attention to what external perceptions—what the sensory world—provides. To explore this sensory world in such a way that one also employs all the powers of the intellect—that is, the powers of the intellectual or emotional soul, the powers of the conscious soul—to attain the sensory image in its fullness. We see this as a task that opens up to us in this realm of national soul culture.

[ 15 ] Thus we see a worldview emerging in southwestern Europe that derives its greatness primarily from its focus on external sensuality, and which employs all other powers of the soul—those that are not sensuality itself—to arouse this sensuality in a pure manner. This worldview arises from the elemental forces of the feeling soul.

[ 16 ] And let us turn now to the peoples of Western Europe. If we consider French culture from this perspective, we find expressed within it—I can only describe these things today in a symptomatic way, by presenting individual personalities as the living symptoms of historical development, representing the specific, characteristic traits of the corresponding cultural movement— if we consider this culture, we find a man like Cartesius, like Descartes, at the beginning of the seventeenth century—I might say—shaping precisely the quintessential characteristic of this culture into a worldview. And when we engage with this worldview, when we ask ourselves: What forces within the human soul are it that shape this worldview, in contrast to the forces of the feeling soul that have just been cited in connection with the Italian worldview? Then we find: It is the forces of the intellectual or rational soul. Just as—I would say—sensuality, presented purely through the other soul forces, is to be set before the human soul by the Italian worldview, so too what the scientific intellect—we may use the term here—has to say about the world through purely rationalistic judgments is to form a worldview here. The intellect—which, precisely because it is situated within finite human beings, is so strongly directed toward the finitude of the human conception of the world—this human intellect is cultivated by Descartes: What are the sources of your certainty? By what means can you say anything certain about what is true, what is genuinely real? — And because he draws from the sources of thought, from human rationality, Descartes develops rationalism as—I would say—the characteristic expression of the French national character. This mind first attaches itself to what lies immediately before it: to the human self itself, to the inner personality. It attempts, from within this inner personality—from that power which is most intimately linked to this personality—to attain certainty about life and the world. “I think, therefore I am!”—Descartes’ world-famous maxim. Human beings confirm their existence by becoming aware of the mind at work within them. They cannot doubt their own mind. Therefore, they can find in their mind the sources of certainty that can be given to them.

[ 17 ] What emerges from this, ladies and gentlemen, is a worldview over which the very nature of the intellect is poured out. The intellect has the distinctive characteristic of being, in a sense, an entity confined within itself and also to its sphere within the human personality. It does not extend beyond the boundaries of the human personality. I would say: Descartes, too, remains, in a certain sense, within thought. He does not stir within himself the other powers of the soul—those powers through which we can allow our entire human being to flow into nature and its mysteries, in order to sense and feel this nature and to live in harmony with it. Descartes remains within thought; he remains within reason. This shapes his entire worldview. A worldview characterized, in particular, my esteemed audience, by the fact that Descartes, by relying solely on self-certainty—on what his own thinking guarantees as certain—comes to believe that animals are merely living machines. They are not endowed with a soul like human beings. Thought, which has—I might say—become fixed within one’s own personality, does not find a way out of itself to immerse itself lovingly in external nature. It does not even reach the level of a soul for the animal world. Animals are soulless machines, mechanisms, moving machines. [Even less does it penetrate to the essence of the rest of nature. In order to arrive at certainty, realism deprives itself of the very means by which it could penetrate to the soulful aspect of the rest of nature.] One might say: This worldview sought to secure human truth; and it secured it by renouncing a true immersion in nature.

[ 18 ] Thus we see a worldview over which spreads—I would say—that which human beings find within themselves through their thinking. This worldview has influenced the entire development of the French worldview. We still find it today, in a certain sense, in Bergson and in Boutroux. Everywhere we see how people build upon what is supposed to follow solely from human thought. We see it emerge particularly distinctly at the end of the eighteenth century, [...] where it finds full expression in the materialism of French thought as a worldview—which is, in essence, the father of all theoretical materialism, [indeed] of all materialistic worldviews of modern times; a worldview that Goethe once confronted by opposing [materialism]— [and] thus in the very personality in whom the worldview of German Idealism was most vividly present—a worldview that Goethe confronted when he said: “There we are presented with a world of moving atoms.” If only we could see at least some reason why these atoms move, and if we could see why our entire beautiful, diverse, and magnificent world, with all its wonders, arises from these moving atoms.

[ 19 ] But materialism—so Goethe believes—exists [...] only in certain concepts of moving atoms, and furthermore does not show—since it has no need whatsoever to do so—how closely connected is that which it thus supposes to lie behind phenomena with the great diversity and beauty of worldly phenomena! We see one of the most German of Germans, Goethe, rebelling precisely against this materialist worldview. [This worldview] expresses the entire character of the intellectual or emotional soul.

[ 20 ] And if we look from there toward British culture, we find that this British culture, as it begins in more recent times, directs the power of the human soul directly toward that which is spread out externally before human observation. We see this emerge in Bacon of Verulam—a figure who, in the most radical way, demands that the human soul purify all that [which leads it away from what it can observe while standing in the world, what it can perceive with its senses—with the consciousness that is inherent to us as human beings—that it purify all of that!] Bacon wanted to purify the worldview of everything that human beings can introduce into it through mere thought, through a deepening into their inner selves.

[ 21 ] Just as sensualism is the worldview corresponding to the Italian national character, and just as rationalism is the worldview corresponding to the French national character, so too is so-called empiricism—the orientation toward external reality, which, after all, initially has significance only for the human conscious soul, for that into which human beings, with their conscious purposes, wish to place themselves here as earthly beings. This external reality—what is, as they say, “given” in empiricism—is the object of the external soul of consciousness. This is what one seeks to gain, when considering it in terms of its characteristic properties: the British worldview, that which it can possess as content in and of itself. And from the dawn of modern intellectual life all the way up to Darwin and Spencer, all the way up to the current English worldview, we find this fundamental trait everywhere. Yet we see that, in recent times, it has, curiously enough, united with that which truly lives within the soul of consciousness. The conscious soul, as I mentioned earlier, is directed toward teaching human beings the purposes they pursue as external earthly beings within their immediate sensory environment. The conscious soul is directed toward these purposes—toward what is useful to human beings. Let us look back, for example, at Darwin. And we see in the form that Darwin gave to the theory of organic evolution how the principle of utility is already incorporated into the very process of the beings’ development. Beings arise and perfect themselves in the struggle for existence. Why in the struggle for existence? Because the being that is organized in such a way as to be most useful to itself displaces the others.

[ 22 ] A characteristic feature of its emergence is that so-called pragmatism—a term coined in England and, more recently, in America—is the latest form of the worldview prevailing there. What is this pragmatism? The question is asked: To what extent can a person arrive at a truth that they seek to approach in thought? There was a very intense sense that one cannot actually develop one’s spiritual faculties through mere thoughts. Indeed, what are mere thoughts? What are the thoughts that a person can form when observing phenomena? Is there a world of thoughts of which one could say they are real? A person walks through the world, as they say, looking at things. They reflect on them. Is there somehow a power that shapes the truth within a person? This is what pragmatism asks. — No, a person cannot find such an external power. But a person forms concepts, which they can then possess. How can they possess them? In such a way that these concepts enable them to summarize the phenomena of the world in a purposeful manner. This pragmatism does not seek some sort of background in a source of truth, but rather seeks the formation of such concepts that are purposeful, so that one can summarize the multiplicity of phenomena—and thereby summarize it in the most appropriate way. This is a concept that one can indeed perceive, because it serves to summarize phenomena. There is no other source of truth.

[ 23 ] If, for example, we speak of a unity of the manifestation of the human soul—which we can assume based on what has been said—then we can appropriately summarize the individual manifestations of the human soul.

[ 24 ] There is no intrinsic truth to the concept of gravity when we speak of it. When we form the concept of gravity, nothing compels us to speak of it other than the fact that it serves the purpose of summarizing, under a single concept, the many phenomena we encounter in the world. This usefulness permeates the entire human quest for a worldview within pragmatism.

[ 25 ] I have not in any way attempted to characterize the facts from any standpoint of sympathy or antipathy, but rather I have sought to identify the guiding thread of the worldviews of the three nationalities in accordance with the nuance of the soul that finds expression in the respective people and culture. One can see [that what I have briefly characterized]—and thus it may appear arbitrary, [but] precisely if one were to delve deeper, all arbitrariness would vanish, and it could be traced through the entire scope of the development of the worldviews of the peoples in question—[testifies to us]: Italian culture has particularly developed the character of the feeling soul; French culture, the character of the rationalistic intellectual or emotional soul; and British culture, the character of the conscious soul.

[ 26 ] Now let us turn our gaze to the heart of Europe. Let us try there, too, to let this spiritual gaze wander briefly over the phenomena that have presented themselves to us within the most recent period of human development. This new period is already announcing itself in a peculiar way. There we see, however, how—I might say—in an intoxicating sensuality, Giordano Bruno sketches a worldview of beauty out of a purified sensualism. At the same time, however, we see how, in France from the sixteenth into the seventeenth century, Montaigne, drawing from the intellectual or emotional soul, forms a worldview of pure doubt. We see how, particularly in Montaigne—I might say—in a different way, less brilliant, less philosophical than in Descartes, yet precisely in him, one of the most significant signs of this culture finds expression. We see how he is confined to what human beings are capable of thinking, to what is connected with their thinking; yet at the same time, he senses that the validity of this thinking as truth is limited precisely because it resides only within us. This gives rise to his doubt about the external sensory world. That is why Montaigne says: Yes, the external senses provide us with a certain image of the external world. But does it have to be true? We have no means of knowing, for we can only trust reason. Yet even within reason, we have no means of proving that what appears is not something entirely different from what we might surmise lies behind the sensory phenomena. Sensory phenomena may be deceptive. But can what we possess in reason truly tell us the truth? We see that we want to prove something through our reason. But soon we realize that [this rational conclusion] was itself a delusion within us. Now we must prove once again what we have already proven. And this immediately presents itself to us from one perspective or another [gap in the transcript]. But it is questionable. We begin to demand proof of the proof of the proof. The true sage, says Montaigne, is solely and exclusively the one who doubts everything, who goes through the world with a soul capable of enduring doubt.

[ 27 ] And the contemporary of the Italian and the Frenchman is none other than Bacon in the realm of worldview, who seeks to reduce the human soul—as I have characterized it—to that which is purely the object of external utility. This contemporary—whatever objections one may raise against him, whatever standpoint one may take— This figure—the contemporary of, I might say, the sensually intoxicated Giordano Bruno, the skeptic Montaigne, and Bacon, who reduces everything to mere external empiricism—is characteristic of the development of Central Europe and of German folk culture: Jakob Böhme, the profound German mystic. He—who, while Giordano Bruno seeks to unite the intoxicated senses with the entire world, with the outer, sensory infinity of the universe; who, while Montaigne considers a person wise only if he is capable of doubting everything; who is a contemporary of Bacon—is Jakob Böhme, [the contemporary of that very Bacon], who, when he seeks to point humans toward the Truth, directs them away from everything they might conceive or construct within themselves, and points them toward the mere intellectual and conceptual synthesis of the phenomena of the conscious soul. The contemporary of these three—all of whom direct people outward—is Jakob Böhme, who, at the same time, turned his inner path toward those realms which the human soul can enter when it becomes fully conscious of itself in its deepest innermost being.

[ 28 ] And let us turn to this wonderful worldview of Jakob Böhme. There we see how this contemporary of Montaigne—the greatest modern skeptic—seeks certainties, inwardly sustained by the deepest faculties of the soul, in a purely spiritual, supernatural world, in a world of human inner life—a world of which he knows, precisely because it is human inner life, that it is the inner life of that which confronts us in the outer world, in external existence. Jakob Böhme seeks to demonstrate, from the perspective of the German spirit, the profound kinship between what a person finds when delving deepest into their inner self and what a person finds when venturing farthest out into the entire expanse of external existence.

[ 29 ] The greatest seeker of certainty—the contemporary of the greatest skeptic. The greatest believer in human inner life alongside the greatest rejecter of whatever human inner life might claim to know with certainty about any phenomenon in the world. There, in the dawn of recent world development, we see emerging a spirit from German folk culture that seeks to enter into the very center of the soul, and which, from the activity of this center, seeks to illuminate all that lives in the feeling soul, in the intellectual or emotional soul, and in the conscious soul—just as light illuminates the nuances of color that outwardly appear divided into reddish-yellow, greenish, and bluish-violet. “I-Culture”—a culture that finds and seeks the path into the human interior—does so because it is fully aware that—if one only dives deeply enough into this human interior—one will find in these depths, in the abyss of the human interior, the gateway to that which lies even beyond what Giordano Bruno’s intoxicated sensory science perceives as the external. Jakob Böhme knows how to find the inner essence of this outer world—in accordance with his own disposition and the disposition of his worldview—by descending into his own inner self. Thus, right in the heart of Europe, even at the dawn of modern human development, we find a worldview of mysticism characterized by intuition.

[ 30 ] Even if we consider it imperfect from our present standpoint, ... we find in it a tone set in the development of worldview that shows us—as I said, the aim is not to present any dogmatic worldview, but merely to characterize its development—how the German worldview strives to seek out the forces—which it is meant to shape within the human “I,” which is conscious of its ability to immerse itself in the spirit of the vast, provided it deepens sufficiently—within the human “I,” in the innermost, most intimate core of human soul nature itself. And this character, esteemed audience, we find it preserved throughout the more recent development.

[ 31 ] Kant, who stands, as it were, as the first cornerstone of this newer Central European development of intellectual worldview, is often misunderstood. It often seems to people as though Kant had wanted to present a worldview of doubt, a worldview of uncertainty. But what Kant intended was also formed in a different way, arising from the depths of the human ego-nature. And here we encounter something quite peculiar in this recent development. As I said, I merely wish to highlight the facts; I wish to characterize these developments through an impartiality toward the facts—at least an aspiration toward it; I do not know how far I succeed, but at least an aspiration toward it. One thing stands out here, something truly characteristic of this German development. That which must animate human beings in their innermost being is brought into the soul’s field of vision, even though it is not immediately real: the idea, the ideal.

[ 32 ] The most alien concept to the era in which Kant lived and the culture from which he emerged would be, for example, the contemporary British view, as expressed in the British worldview: that truth should have no other source [than the expediency for which external phenomena are to be summarized]. For that which is absolutely valuable—so that no doubt, nor anything that could in any way deprive it of certainty, should come near it—is absolutely certain; that which makes human life valuable, even though it is not an externally sensory reality—that is the idea, that is the ideal. This worldview sensed that the idea and the ideal penetrate the human soul and bestow upon it the highest value. No matter how great a value the human soul may derive from nature or from anywhere else, it attains its highest value through the fact that ideas can be present within it. And now, more or less unconsciously, the impulse was already alive within Kant to do away with everything that refused to acknowledge the absolute, unconditional validity of the ideas and their highest value for the life of the human soul. He then found that a science had been developed, a worldview had emerged that was oriented toward the sensory world. But human beings, Kant tells himself, cannot—with the powers that arise from their soul—grasp this sensory worldview in such a way as to reach its immediate sources—if I may use this pedantic term, though it is Kant’s own—[that is, to reach] the “thing-in-itself.” So Kant sought to clarify this sensibility, this external reality, as it presents itself to the human senses. In his own way, he examines the life of the human soul. He finds that what unfolds there as the sensory world is not immediate reality. And the human soul is utterly incapable, with the faculties it possesses, of penetrating into immediate reality. It is capable of experiencing something immediately real within itself solely through those faculties that are the faculties of the idea, the faculties of the ideal. And so we see in Kant the remarkable fact that he does not, as is often believed, seek to present a worldview of doubt, of instability, or of ignorance, but rather that he sought precisely a worldview that dispels all doubt by making it clear: We can know nothing about sensibility, but precisely because we can know nothing about it, we can all the more rely on the fact that what enters our inner life as an idea, as an ideal, has an unconditional value. Sensibility must not, through the certainty it possesses, disturb us in our contemplation of what is absolutely valuable—the idea, the ideal. Kant does not present a worldview of doubt, but rather a worldview that seeks precisely to eliminate doubt. However, he is led to say that he must combat knowledge. Kant says this in order to make room for faith. At first, he believes only that a kind of faith can develop for that which enters the human soul in the form of an idea; but what is characteristic is precisely that the ideal, the idea, is so valuable to him that he himself dethrones knowledge for its sake, in order to secure for this ideal the proper throne, the proper universal validity.

[ 33 ] And now we see how the individual heroes of the worldview of German Idealism follow this path. We see how immediately—I would say—the Germans’ very own national philosopher, Johann Gottlieb Fichte, embraces this Kantian worldview. Let us look back at rationalism, at Descartes’ purely intellectual worldview, which represents the archetype of the worldview of French popular culture: “I think, therefore I am.” In this line of thought, something is seen upon which one can rely as a source of certainty. But from this thinking one must conclude—though I do not wish to engage in philosophical speculations at this moment, nor must one arrive at this conclusion by any means other than through reasoning—that this thinking is grounded in a being, a first being that can be recognized through thinking, that one can look upon, because it proves that it must exist, since one thinks. It is there, since one does think, since thinking does arise from it. All of this, if one looks closely, is entirely foreign to this strange, magnificent—I would say—heroic, in the sense of a worldview, heroic soul of Fichte; all of this is utterly alien to this Fichtean soul. Fichte creates an entirely different conception of the human inner world, of the deepest aspects of the soul. One that remains, even to this day, extremely difficult to understand. For Fichte does not seek to arrive at the soul, at the “I,” by grasping it in its being. Rather, Fichte seeks to grasp being [in its act of coming into being] as an act of creation; that is to say: in order for me to experience my “I” as “I,” I must continually create myself. At the moment when I lose the creative powers within me, when I can no longer project myself from unknown depths into an immediate existence for my inner self, I am no longer an “I.” Thus, the thought, “I think,” is submerged into the will. And the inseparable unity of will and thought is made the foundation of human selfhood. At the same time, the characterization of the “I” refers to something that is in a state of constant creation, of constant activity. You are only with yourself when you yourself bring about this “being with yourself” in every moment. To the extent that you can and do create yourself, in every moment of your sensory-physical and intellectual existence, you are an “I.”

[ 34 ] What does Fichte, this most national of German philosophers, want? He seeks to grasp the center of human existence, and he seeks to grasp it in such a way that he [does not] develop within it something permanent, something truly enduring, [that he does not seek] an unchanging being, but rather something perpetually active, something that never rests. Man, who is then a creature of himself. The most wondrous aspect of power, of human capacity, placed at the center of the light of the soul—this appears to us at the same time as the center of Fichte’s worldview. And here, at this center, Fichte seeks to grasp the self-generating “I”—the “I” that is endowed not only with the ability to think about its own being, but with the ability to will itself continuously. Here, too, he seeks—not in a being that one might seek behind appearances, here or there through some other science, but in the willing that the “I” itself generates—to discover what lives within, in this human willing, in this inner human activity through which the “I” continually generates itself: the idea, the ideal. The “I” generates itself, and into this flow of self-generation pours the idea, the ideal. Thus, the most intimate coexistence of the divinely exalted ideal, the divinely pure idea, with what human beings call their most intimate inner experience pours directly into this flow of self-generation.

[ 35 ] And now—I would say—as Fichte proceeds, we encounter what is perhaps the boldest—it certainly contains much that is open to doubt, but nevertheless: the boldest—idea to which a thinking worldview, a purely thinking worldview, has ever risen. As Fichte looks upon this self-creating “I”—this “I” that exists in a single moment because it creates itself, but does not merely sustain this existence until the next moment, rather, it also lives out its actions in the next moment, and in the moment after that, never resting as it continually creates itself—Fichte looks upon this “I,” and in it he now finds his reality. True reality must be measured by the standard of this reality. What, as we have just seen, enters into this “I”? As this “I” creates, ideas and ideals flow into its creative powers. They are what is absolutely valuable.

[ 36 ] Now, however, this “I” confronts the external sensory world through the body’s organization. This external sensory world is something enduring; it is something that cannot create itself and is therefore not as real as the “I,” which is constantly creating itself—it is less real. Why, then, does the “I”—this absolutely creative “I” into which the divine ideal flows—enter the less real sensory world? Because this “I,” with the ideas, the ideals, and the moral duty—which flows into this “I” through the ideas and ideals—needs a field of activity in which to fulfill itself. For Fichte, the sensory world does not exist for its own sake, but, as he says, as sensed matter for the reception of duty—that is, of ideas and ideals. For Fichte, the world exists because duties, ideas, and ideals stand as imperatives in spiritual life, and because these ideas and ideals require a sensory world in which to act. Thus, the sensory world must exist as a consequence of ideas and ideals. We need not go into today what we may have on our minds regarding the scope or the fundamental truth of such a worldview; we wish only to address the nature of the people’s striving. We wish to address that which strives within the soul’s power of the people to recognize the truth. We wish to trace the character of this national striving during the period that preceded the one in which the German people created their state, the external framework of its activity—for which it must now stand up with blood and arms, but which it created because it drew the strength to do so from what preceded this state, a strength rooted in the deepest essence of the German national soul. And from this perspective, let us also turn our inner gaze toward the man who, in a certain sense, continued Fichte’s work—who worked alongside Fichte and after Fichte—the much-contested Schelling.

[ 37 ] That which constitutes Fichte’s fundamental essence—directing one’s gaze toward a worldview over which, above all else, are spread the ideas and ideals that flow into human beings and which necessitate the existence of external sensibility, because the ideas and ideals — in order to fill out the worldview — require an object within which they can operate; building upon this Fichtean premise, Schelling, too, immersed himself in this center, in the human “I.” That center where, according to Fichte’s conception and understanding, this thinking is linked to the world soul. But Schelling perceives things differently than Fichte. To him, it seems prosaic, it seems abstract, to name all of nature with all its diversity, with all that delights our senses, with all that promotes our well-being and happiness, with all that in which the mind so gladly and willingly immerses itself, from which it draws so much — that which unfolds in the vast, visible natural world — to view it solely from the standpoint that it exists merely to provide sensuous material for duty, for the spiritual aspect of the worldview that flows into the self; this seems impossible to Schelling given his disposition. He has—I might say—too much of the German spirit within him.

[ 38 ] Fichte’s greatness lies in German willpower. Schelling’s greatness lies in the German spirit, which seeks to respond with love to the smallest and the greatest manifestations of nature—to that which pours magnificently through space and unfolds over time. But even as he seeks to penetrate every detail with a loving spirit, he is at the same time fully aware of this: certainty, security, and true reality can only be found where you immerse yourself within yourself, where you can find, precisely within your “I,” the union of the human soul with the world soul. What you seek there and [...] find—because you experience it directly, because you experience it in such a way that, by virtue of your very being, [it] is simultaneously within you... as that which pulses through life as true reality—what you can find within yourself, you will never, ever find in external nature. Therefore, fill yourself with that which lies within you—that which can serve as a reflection of what is deepest even in this external nature. And so, for Schelling, what he has experienced inwardly grows almost to such a degree that, in his contemplation of nature, he merges with external natural existence. Thus, nature itself becomes soulful—spiritual—to him. Thus Schelling looks inward into [human] nature and says to himself: Therein lies the essence of the human soul. But when I look out into nature, it is the same essence. I look at the stone: It has something, is connected to something, that is like this essence of the human soul; it merely possesses it in a form enchanted within external nature; it has cast it into forms. And so it is with the plant world in all its diversity. And so it is with the animal world. And so it is also with the outer, physical world of human beings. To put it figuratively: For Schelling, it is as if—before the human soul entered this physical existence—a world-spirit soul deeply related to the human soul... ...had first spread out before itself, in forms, that which the human soul feels and perceives within itself only as a soul, so that the human soul can see itself here twice..., and its essence poured out, magically poured out in space and time, just as it lives out there in nature.

[ 39 ] But then Schelling tells himself: if that is the case, if nature is an enchanted spiritual being, then I must find—when I experience nature by fully immersing myself in every single being, in every single form of life—the spirit of nature living out its fullness everywhere. But I do not find it by merely gazing blankly at nature. I must create it. My soul must create, from within my own soul, that which lives as the deepest essence in animals, plants, and stones. My soul must immerse itself in it and thereby create it. Hence Schelling’s bold statement: To comprehend nature is to create nature.

[ 40 ] And third, we see the one who developed this worldview of German Idealism most coherently—albeit only in abstract thoughts that are difficult for some to grasp—we see the one—we are not far from the Hegel House here, it’s right across from this house, on the same street here—we see Hegel, the man from Stuttgart, the profound one, the most profound of the three. If we can call Fichte the most powerful, the man of the German will, and Schelling the man of the German spirit, we can call Hegel the man of German reason itself. When Schelling immerses himself in nature—but only in such a way that he brings along the creative power of the “I”—not merely to comprehend nature, but to create nature through contemplation from within the human soul, Hegel, so to speak, wishes to proceed from the soul—from what it is in itself, from the totality that it creates for itself in accordance with Fichte’s concept of the “I”—and from there to penetrate into that which the soul is in conjunction with the deepest ideas of the world. From the individual spirit, from the individual “I,” Hegel wishes to proceed to the World Spirit, which is connected at a single point with the individual spirit of man.

[ 41 ] From the human “I” to the “world-I,” Fichte sought a human being that possesses within itself the power to continually generate itself and thus to develop and evolve. While Schelling seeks within the human being the power that can create, within the ideal world picture, that which is inherent in nature, Hegel seeks within the human soul that which enables this human soul to receive within itself the divine world spirit and to engage in dialogue with this divine world spirit. While Schelling seeks to pour the entire human soul into the soulful aspect of nature, Hegel seeks to immerse this entire human soulfulness into the essence of the World Spirit, into the essence of the World Soul. And he is clear about this: When the soul looks beyond what extends outwardly, when it lives entirely within itself, then it enters into dialogue with the World Spirit. Then what lives within it as a concept, as an idea, as an ideal, is precisely what the World Spirit allows to flow into it. And as the soul moves from idea to idea, forming the entire organism of ideas that it is capable of forming, it does not merely follow itself; no, it is conscious that when it withdraws in this way from all externality, it unites itself with the World Spirit. It does not think for itself; the World Spirit itself thinks its thoughts within it. I surrender myself to the thinking of the World Spirit, to the working of the World Reason. Through this, the entire organism of the World Idea—the worldview of German Idealism—spreads out within the soul.

[ 42 ] We can certainly say, esteemed audience, that Fichte sought the human “I” in its power, in its self-creative activity, but he remained—and because he boldly strove for the greatest possible, this greatest—I might say—has, in itself, the flaws of its virtue; it has its one-sidedness— Fichte stopped at a certain point in this self-creative aspect of the “I,” so that one must say: at the point where he stopped, the human soul actually creates itself merely as a knowing entity. It is therefore characteristic that Fichte calls what he created as philosophy, as a worldview, the “Science of Knowledge.” Just as Fichte conceives of this self-creating “I,” it is actually nothing more than the knowing human being. But what matters to us is the path—not a dogma, not an absolute truth, but the search for the German national soul. One might say: Everything that is unfolded in human nature through the experience of the full richness of the world of sensation—in which the entire external nature is reflected—and everything that takes shape in the totality of human inner spiritual life, with its deep pain, its sublime bliss, and profound suffering, cannot be explained directly through the process by which the self-creating “I” operates in Fichte. There, only the “knowing I”—I would say—can be explained. If human beings were to stand in the world as knowers, as mere cognizers, if the acquisition of knowledge were humanity’s sole task in the world, then it would be as Fichte had conceived it. But we see a marvelous unfolding of power precisely in the fact that, on the one hand, all thinking, all inquiry, all reflection is directed toward incorporating this one impulse into the worldview of German Idealism. Even if Fichte believed he was answering all the world’s mysteries, he has—even if he did not answer them in their entirety—revealed this one thing: How does the human being, as one who cognizes, as one who knows, as one who investigates the world, stand before himself? And how is he, as a knowing human being, connected to the sources of existence? To incorporate this nuance into the worldview of German Idealism—that was, after all, Johann Gottlieb Fichte’s task.

[ 43 ] In Schelling, we find how the whole of external nature becomes—I might say—something that stands before his soul just as a person’s physiognomy stands before our soul. We do not merely accept it by describing individual features or characterizing its expression; rather, we perceive the soul speaking through it, allowing its inner essence—that which is the soul behind the physiognomy—to affect us. Thus, what is spread out before humanity in nature, in its wonderfully profound unity, becomes the great physiognomy of the world soul that Schelling sought to decipher. Solely because he sets out, in the strictest sense of the word, to create everywhere: by enjoying and observing nature, he can create only as much as had already been revealed by nature—I might say—in accordance with the character of his time. Schelling reveals this general character of human soul-creation, insofar as the soul-like is a reflection of nature’s creation. But while man’s relationship to nature is such that all the depth of his spiritual life cannot replace the immediate experience, the loving engagement with phenomena—insofar as they can be observed—Schelling believes that, from within, he can create more about nature than the mere predisposition for observation. Once again, in a one-sided manner and with the error of a great spiritual virtue, he captures a nuance of the worldview of German Idealism!

[ 44 ] Hegel seeks to experience the reigning World Spirit itself within the human soul. He seeks to have within the soul such thoughts, such an unfolding reason, as if the World Spirit itself were made to speak within the soul. But Hegel, in turn, remains one-sided. This World Spirit does not appear in his work as the one [who, in all activity, at one time communicates the essence of the activity of the one Being and at another time reveals a different essence in a different activity]. This World Spirit appears in Hegel as the great logician who expounds the details of World Reason alone, and World Reason becomes the sole All-Existent. But in order to present this One in its characteristic form to the world, to incorporate this nuance into the worldview of German Idealism—for this, this flaw was, in turn, a great virtue; this one-sidedness was necessary in order to grasp the idea in its highest degree: When a person immerses himself in his inner self, he can detach himself from his “I”—he is so intensely active within his “I” that he extinguishes this “I” itself, so that the World Spirit may shine forth within him! In order to grasp this idea with the utmost intensity, it had to be grasped, for a time, in this one-sidedness. For in the search for truth, what matters to us first and foremost is the power of comprehension, and not that the World Spirit itself be understood as a mere logician.

[ 45 ] But we also see—and indeed we know, esteemed audience—how these three nuances in the worldview of German Idealism are intimately connected with the entire spiritual striving of the German people. For when Goethe sought to distill from this historical development of the German people that which constitutes this people’s deepest, most intimate, and at the same time most comprehensive and vibrant human aspiration and spiritual quest for the world—when he sought to portray this—he presented, I might say, a synthesis of what had emerged with the strongest emphasis on one-sidedness in Fichte, Schelling, Hegel—he presents it in summary form. But at the same time, by—I would say — builds up thoughts with all the inwardness of the human soul and with all the forces of natural existence—lived through in the image of the humanly striving personality itself—in Faust, [by characterizing him in such a way that—as Goethe] depicts it—the all-encompassing nature of the human soul’s striving toward light could only emerge in modern times from [that] folk culture, which [seeks] the light at the center of the soul’s life, while the other modern cultures seek the individual shades of color in the soul. We see—but transposed directly into the living, into the wholly personal, into the most intimate, and at the same time—I would say—into the most everyday—the “I”-nature of the human being, how it is always self-creatively active, how it must intervene in every successive moment to create its being anew, to remake itself. We see this distinctly—only in its full, broad vitality and in its full abundance—I would say—the purely ideal in the human embodied in Faust, in that Faust whose motto is, after all: “Whoever strives with all his might, we can redeem!” In that Faust, who is in fact presented to us in such a way that, existing in the concrete, in the immediately elemental, he strives for what Fichte sets forth as theory. So that this Faustian “I” continually creates itself throughout the entire Faust narrative, in order, through this creative process, to successively insert its “I” more and more into other spheres, other realms of worldly existence, so as to become connected with other spheres, with other realms of worldly existence.

[ 46 ] And we see how Schelling lives on as a nuance, Schelling’s conception as a nuance, in *Faust*. Schelling stands before nature as before the great sorceress, and experiences: Even if this is an illusion—it is an illusion meant to kindle a great aspiration; I do not say to represent it, but to kindle it. This Schelling stands before Nature as if, from within himself, by seeking to comprehend Nature, he could create it. To comprehend Nature means to create Nature—and we see Faust, in turn, transformed into the living, into the full richness of human existence and striving. Faust, as he seeks to attain “all life force and seed.” How he yearns with all his might—a might that is itself a magical force—to grasp that which creates and lives in nature, to unite it with himself, to unite himself with the spirit of nature. Thus he wants the spirit—the spirit of life, which “surges up and down in torrents of life, in a storm of deeds”—to stand before him. He does not seek to create nature; he sought to understand; he seeks that which creates in nature as the genius of the world and of action.

[ 47 ] Schelling sought, in an abstract way, within his own soul the creative force present in nature. Faust sought the center of nature where the being can be found that, as the creative force, stands opposed to the created. Just as Schelling seeks to attain a living being that creates as nature creates, so Faust strives to uncover such a being—one that flows and surges from individual being to individual being in nature, revealing not merely the enchanted, the created, but that which lives in all created things as the creative force.

[ 48 ] And just as Hegel, as a philosopher, incorporated into the worldview of German Idealism his “nuance of reason”—which is supposed to be the very dialogue of the World Spirit within the individual human soul—so we see—and this, in turn, is so admirably embodied in the living reality of Faust’s entire striving— how what appears to us as the ultimate goal is that which a human being can experience in his deepest being, when he has striven ceaselessly, when he has become one with all those self-creative forces that the “I” continually creates and fathoms, but thereby continually develops—ceaselessly develops. As a human being has gone through this, as he has knocked on those gates through which nature opens up its creative forces, after he has found the Spirit whom he addresses as “Sublime Spirit, you gave me everything, everything” — in other words, the Spirit who stands as the Creator opposite the created —, he passes through all possible stages of human development to reach the point where, just as his eyes are closing, just as he is going blind, just as he stands on the very threshold of death, he is able to unite with the World Spirit. Admittedly, Goethe touches here upon an inner experience of the union of the human soul with the World Spirit, one that infinitely surpasses, in richness and depth of experience, the mere abstraction of Hegel’s logical World Reason. But the attitude is the same in both cases.

[ 49 ] We could cite many examples, and we would see everywhere how it is the German way to seek out the foundations and sources underlying ideas and ideals—so that the world is not merely a symbol perceived by the external senses, but a vibrant, undulating worldview of ideas and ideals. And just as this worldview of German Idealism demands that such an understanding be shaped in such a way that it can declare: Yes, all external sensibility is such that what stands as the most valuable for the life of the soul—the ideas and ideals originating from divine cosmic sources—can intervene; thus, in the spirit of human striving within German culture, that which aspires toward the worldview of German Idealism truly establishes itself within other worldviews. And I believe that the German may quite objectively describe what has been characterized here as his own striving, without himself believing that the slanderous accusations now leveled by his enemies have any merit. He may say: He does not seek the individual shades of color in the soul; he seeks that which—just as light shines through the individual shades of color—shines through and flows through these individual shades of color as the innermost essence, as the best of the human soul.

[ 50 ] And one can certainly say, ladies and gentlemen, that when one points to this worldview of German Idealism, one is pointing to something that cannot live in every soul. Certainly, that is how it appears; but two things must be emphasized. I can only hint at these two points, but they could also be elaborated upon if one were to delve further into the phenomena to which I have just alluded. So great, so powerful was the will in this striving for the worldview of German Idealism, during that period in Germany’s history that was the most significant era of idealistic struggle—just as our present time will undoubtedly one day appear as the most significant era of real struggle—that this worldview of German Idealism, from Germany’s most idealistic era, seems to stand before our souls in such a way that we can say: Whatever the people who have striven for worldviews and the most diverse tasks within our culture—from the nineteenth century to the present day—have done, it was that they attempted, from various vantage points, to gain a deeper understanding of these individual representatives of the worldview of German Idealism. Even its opponents were always, in one way or another, engaged in delving into it here or there—or at least in grappling with it, struggling to come to terms with this worldview of German Idealism. And in whatever worldviews and philosophies of life have developed since then, we sense the pulse of this worldview of German Idealism everywhere, even within opposing perspectives. We feel it resonating right into our own time. We perceive it as something that belongs to the very essence of the German spirit—that which finds its full expression in this German spirit. We perceive it as one of the most characteristic expressions of the German essence. We perceive it as that which symptomatically signifies the greatness and power of the German mission—and which may be described as such because there truly lies within such a description an aspiration that does not allow this description to appear as megalomania, but rather ensures that the utmost modesty is associated with this characterization.

[ 51 ] Thus we see that we are still standing within it—and to what extent we are standing within it, I will have to elaborate further tomorrow in my lecture—thus we see how we stand within it with all our striving in the full revelation of that which was established back then, which was established by individuals. That is the one thing I wish to emphasize: the grandeur of the worldview of German Idealism. Above all, this ties in with what has been the task to this day for those who have sought a worldview and a conception of life, and what will continue to be their task in this sense for a long time to come.

[ 52 ] The other point I want to emphasize is that every ideological impulse that enters a worldview first appears among only a few people. And the form in which it appears is not decisive for the way it takes effect. But if one—as I said, I cannot elaborate further on this today—if one delves not intellectually, but through sensation and feeling; not into dogmatism, but into the will, into the particular orientation of mind that underlies the worldview of German Idealism, then one finds that there is something within it that can still unfold, that can still develop, about which one can say: Something can emerge from it that bears no resemblance whatsoever to the difficult-to-understand debates of Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel—something that can develop in such a way that even the simplest mind can easily understand it.

[ 53 ] Ladies and gentlemen! Through years of immersing myself in this particular worldview of German Idealism, I have come to the firm conviction that it contains something capable of taking root in human nature from childhood onward—that there is a trinity toward which a person can be educated: a sense of the self-creative power within the “I,” which— — I would like to say — a religious quality in all their endeavors, as was the case with Fichte. Not Fichte’s philosophy, but allowing the forces that lived within Fichte’s philosophy to take effect, and transmitting them to general culture, to the common man, to every individual—that will one day be possible. — To become aware that something lives in the human soul that is intimately connected with nature, with that which lives at the very core of nature—this particular attitude toward nature, this living with the soul in relation to nature, this sense of being immersed in the workings of nature— it does not, however, require what Schelling presented as philosophy to become popular in any way; rather, the mindset from which this worldview arose can take root in the simplest human heart. — Hegel’s idea that human beings can descend so deeply into their own souls that they can converse there with the World Soul itself, that when they are freed from life in the external, natural, and sensory world, they can hear the harmony with the World Spirit resound spiritually within themselves—this attitude toward the divinely active, reigning World Spirit, — even without any knowledge of the logical character of Hegel’s worldview — can be evoked as a disposition in the simplest soul.

[ 54 ] The worldview of German Idealism—not as it is dogmatically defined, but as it was lived as a goal to strive for, as an impulse of the soul—can become popular. And as paradoxical, as strange as it may sound: What this worldview of German Idealism can accomplish in a human soul, what it can trigger within a human soul—how it can attune that soul, in its intellectual, nature-loving, working, and creative daily life, to a religious-spiritual state—is just as possible as the deeper meaning of the Grimm fairy tales taking root in the human soul. It is no more difficult to live in intimate harmony with the spirit of the Grimm fairy tales, with the spirit of German folk tales and German folk legends, than it is with the spirit of that which lives in the worldview of German Idealism. But this points us toward a development of that which this worldview of German Idealism is the root of, into a distant future. And what is meant to develop will develop, no matter how numerous are those who surround Germany, who surround the German people, and who seek to destroy the very existence of this German people. The great confidence that Germans can have in their future can arise from an understanding of that to which they have bound their most sacred, specifically national sentiments.

[ 55 ] And so, from the sentiment that can be gleaned from the worldview of German Idealism, from what has been strived for, and from the fact that these forces—capable of such striving—are present in the German national character— from all of this can arise the great confidence that Germans have in their continued development—a confidence they may express through the optimism they are entitled to feel amid all the arduous struggles and terrible trials in which they are currently embroiled, and in which they may yet find themselves embroiled. Thus, without resorting to sympathy or antipathy—and above all without pointing to antipathies, preconceived notions, or hatred toward what other national souls are called upon to shape— one can present the distinctive character of the German national striving, as it is expressed in one of its manifestations—the worldview of German Idealism—and one can say: Those who are capable of understanding such a thing will understand whether the German people have a mission unique to them, to which they must remain committed, regardless of their nationality. Whether there is much understanding in our present age for this worldview of German Idealism—particularly among our enemies—is another question. And again: By speaking about this worldview of German Idealism, the German can at the same time demonstrate that he is capable of speaking differently—speaking from a foundation of spiritual realities—and that this is different from the way many speak today who seek to deny the German his very existence, who have imposed upon him the necessity of a fierce struggle for that existence.

[ 56 ] I believe, distinguished guests, that Germans need only highlight in this way what lies at the very heart of their worldview—and the slanders that beset Germany and the German people will crumble to nothing. Let us see, after all, how differently one must speak when dealing with the German essence. It is also a simple fact. Ladies and gentlemen! What, for example, did the inhabitants of Britain have to invent in order to justify what is being expressed for them in the current struggle? Whereas the German need only point out that the necessity of his struggle for existence has been forced upon him, what did the inhabitants of Britain have to point to? They had to point to something that can be described as nothing other than a mask. Could they point to what a German, for example, might say: “In recent decades, he had to create the German state, after the German, by virtue of his very nature and in accordance with his development, had worked toward this state”? Could the inhabitants of Britain, for example, justify the necessity of their existence—in the manner in which they brought it about through the Boer War—in the same way that the German can justify what the German is doing today as a consequence of the war of 1870–71? The true reasons there had to be cloaked in pretense. That the struggle for the freedom of other peoples is not the ideal there—one need only point to the history of Britain.

[ 57 ] The French were forced—and this, again, is not something that stems from any kind of hatred, but from the mere characterization, from the mere objective characterization of the facts—to invent a new form of sophistry through the minds of Bergson and Boutroux, who characterize the German worldview by seeking to infer, based on its innermost character — as Boutroux sought to do in a lecture he gave to his fellow Frenchmen based on this German worldview — that, by its very nature, it is a worldview that seeks to conquer everything in the world, that seeks to bring everything into conflict through war.

[ 58 ] Bergson must invent his own philosophical sophistry in order to demonstrate how France’s struggle against the German spirit is a struggle of mind against matter, a struggle of civilization against barbarism. We see an entirely new form of sophistry blossoming here.

[ 59 ] Russia has evidently prepared what it needed to properly prepare for the threat that now emanates from there against the German spirit. Russia needs a new expression for its old delusion, so as not to point to its mission in the matter-of-fact way that the Germans do, but rather to point to something that exists precisely as a delusion. Now, once again, I do not intend to offer an external characterization here; rather, I would like—since I naturally do not have the time to characterize in detail the extent to which the aspiration threatening us from the East is a delusion— I would like to cite another as a key witness, a thinker who must know this, a thinker who is most deeply rooted in modern Russian intellectual life: the great Soloviev, who belongs to the nineteenth century and who—I would say—reflects the entirety of Russian intellectual life as if in a philosophical focal point. He speaks of how another Russian thinker summarizes Russia’s mission in world history in the words: “Why does Europe not love us? Why does Europe fear us?”—Danilevsky poses this question. And he says:

“Europe fears us as the new and superior cultural type, destined to replace the senility of Roman-Germanic civilization.”

[ 60 ] These words express the full extent of the East’s delusion. It is not to be denied that what is sprouting in the East contains magnificent, powerful seeds for the future of humanity. As for the way they are now playing out, I will characterize them by quoting Solovyov, the great Russian’s, response to Danilevsky’s characterization:

“Nevertheless, both the content of Danilevsky’s book and his later concessions, as well as those of his like-minded friend”

[ 61 ] — this refers to a certain Strachow —

“Another response: Europe views us with hostility and fear because dark and obscure elemental forces dwell within the Russian people, because their intellectual and cultural powers are meager and inadequate, while their claims, on the other hand, are clearly and sharply defined. The cries of what the Russian people desire as a nation resound powerfully throughout Europe—that they wish to destroy Turkey and Austria, defeat Germany, and seize Constantinople and, if possible, India as well.”

[ 62 ] The great Russian Soloviev describes the pervasive Russian delusion long before it reemerged in a new form, long before it manifested itself in what currently threatens us from the East. And then he goes on to say:

“And when we are asked what we intend to offer humanity in place of what has been snatched from us and destroyed, what spiritual and cultural renewal we intend to bring to the development of the world, then we must either remain silent or spout meaningless platitudes.”

[ 63 ] It is not I who say this; one of the greatest Russian minds characterizes what appears to be a Russian delusion from the East as follows:

“And,”

[ 64 ] he goes on to say,

“If Danilevsky’s bitter confession is true, that Russia is beginning to fall ill”

[ 65 ] written in the 1880s

“Then, instead of asking, ‘Why doesn’t Europe love us?,’ we would have to concern ourselves with another question—one closer to home and more important to us: Why and for what reason are we sick? Physically, Russia is still quite strong, as was demonstrated in the last Russian war; thus, our affliction is a moral one. In the words of an ancient writer, we are burdened by sins hidden in the national character and of which we are unaware—and so it is above all necessary to bring these into the light of clear consciousness.”

[ 66 ] Written in the 1880s!

“As long as we are mentally bound and paralyzed, all our elemental instincts can only do us harm. The essential—indeed, the only essential—question for true patriotism is not the question of strength and calling, but of Russia’s sins.”

[ 67 ] The question may arise: Is it the Russian patriot who ignited the current war with the delusional ideals that Soloviev rejects here, or is it Soloviev who so forcefully points out what Russia needs—and what certainly could not have led to this war?

[ 68 ] Italy, in order to justify what it has developed from its plan for world conquest—namely, its current actions—it would have to be far too detailed; one would end up going into far too much detail if one were to attempt to characterize d’Annunzio’s peculiar words in any way, but I think one can grasp the entire peculiarity of what is presented to us from there as a justification, one will be able to add the entire peculiarity of this—to the English mask, to the Russian delusion, to the French sophistry—to the justifications of the opposing states, if one merely points to this one thing: The Italian national soul sought a justification for its present actions, and indeed many, many words were spoken; but they always settled on one, which points precisely to this: The French need a new sophistry, the English need a new mask, the Russians need their old delusion, and the Italians need—a new saint. Through entirely profane means, egoism has been canonized! For the phrase “holy egoism”—as the justifying essence of that which rises up from below—resounds anew to us time and again.

[ 69 ] One can leave it to an objective assessment to determine whether—as one might say, the very essence of the German spirit, in the sense of the worldview of German Idealism—this more objectively justifies the German people’s mission, or whether it is mere sophistry, a mask, delusion, and even a new form of sanctity.

[ 70 ] Looking at the worldview of German Idealism, ladies and gentlemen, as one of the nuances in the essence of the German national soul—to which the German people so deeply wish to connect and must connect today—and looking, among the many nuances in this national soul, specifically at this nuance of German Idealism, of the worldview of German Idealism, one may also recognize in it that which I believe—in all modesty, without being guilty of what is so slanderously spoken against the German from all sides today—the German may say, in all modesty, that he recognizes in three ways what his duty is today. He feels in three ways what is incumbent upon him today. He feels justified in these three ways before the innermost depths of his conscience—his conscience of humanity and history—knowing that he need not speak in a sophistical manner about other inferior national spirits or their barbaric customs. He need only recall the most sacred aspect of his own striving and recognize this most sacred aspect of his own inner striving as the precious, sacred legacy of Germany’s past. Then he may feel, as the one thing through which he knows how to stand firmly—and how to position himself correctly—in the German present, then he may feel, above all else: love for the German past and for all that has been handed down from this German past as a legacy to the Germans of the present—a legacy to which he must hold fast, for which he stands up in love precisely because he recognizes it in his heart, a legacy that brings him joy, that inspires him, that lifts him above pain and suffering. It is love for the past.

[ 71 ] And what sustains him through the heavy duties of the present is his faith in the presence of the German spirit, in the power that flows from this German spirit in the present, and which must bring about that which firmly maintains this German spirit in its position, just as it was inherited from the glorious past. Love for the past and faith in the present join together to form a third element, which flows from the other two and pours strength and confidence into the soul—qualities that spring vividly from the other two— they join together—the first two, love and faith—with the well-founded hope, flowing from the innermost nature of Germanness—to use Fichte’s words—for the future fulfillment of that which the past has inspired for the German people, and for which the German present strives. Love for the past, faith in the present, hope for the future—this is what holds us together in body, soul, and spirit in our harsh yet also blissful present.