The Rudolf Steiner Archive

8. The Harmony Between the Spiritual Sciences and the Natural Sciences, and the Misunderstandings Regarding the Former and the Building in Dornach Dedicated to It

Ladies and gentlemen!

[ 1 ] In the lecture I had the privilege of giving here the day before yesterday, I attempted to explain how what is meant by “spiritual science” in this lecture arrives at its conclusions, and I pointed out that in that lecture I wished to pay less attention to the objections that might still be raised in our time—from this or that quarter, particularly from the natural sciences—against the insights of spiritual science.

[ 2 ] Today I would like to address these various possible—and, as you will see, quite understandable—objections. The day before yesterday, I attempted to show that the researcher of the spiritual world does indeed come to the conviction that the human soul can penetrate the spiritual world; however, this conviction develops in such a way that it is accompanied by the insight that it is not the same soul forces, the same cognitive faculties that lead into the spiritual world as those that enable the human soul to penetrate the sensory world and all that belongs to it through the senses; that it is rather necessary for the spiritual researcher to first develop and cultivate, out of ordinary thinking, feeling, and willing—as they are known and mastered in everyday life and ordinary science— to first cultivate and develop other soul faculties and other soul experiences, through which the soul is then enabled to carry itself vividly into the spiritual world, and in this way to attain what may be called spiritual science. I have pointed out that it is first necessary to practice what is called thinking and what is called imagination in a very specific way, so that out of ordinary thinking and ordinary imagination something emerges that is no longer indistinguishable from this ordinary thinking and imagination, but has become something else—distinguished from ordinary thinking and ordinary imagination above all by the fact that it is experienced and strengthened, so as not merely to rise in images like ordinary thinking, but to be experienced in reality. This transition from the soul’s elevation in images—as is the case with ordinary thinking in ordinary life and in ordinary science—this elevation in images must be transformed into an experience of itself in real essence. In this way, once one has achieved it, one indeed discovers something that the soul could not know before, something of which it cannot even form a concept; for this does not fit into any ordinary concept, but must be experienced directly if it is to come into consciousness, even though it is constantly present in every soul. Through this—as I said the day before yesterday—the soul comes to the point where, through the strengthening and intensification of thought, it lifts itself out of physicality on the one hand, becomes independent of physicality, and experiences itself in a reality, so that it knows: You have now stepped out of your body with your thinking.

[ 3 ] On the other hand—I emphasized—these exercises of thought, through which thought detaches itself from physicality, must go hand in hand with an exercise of the will and of the emotional faculties in general, so that the will, too, may detach itself from the physical. Then one does not enter a sphere of experience such as that reached by the elevation of thought, but rather comes to recognize that something real lives within the flow of our will—something that acts through the organs of the physical body in ordinary life, but which, once these exercises have brought the will to a certain point, in turn rises above physicality. Now, however, it becomes consciousness through a consciousness that the human being continually carries within—a consciousness distinct from his ordinary one—but which can only become truly vivid within in this way. And then I showed: When, on the one hand, everything that is bound to the physical—such as ordinary memory—has been driven out of thinking, so to speak, and thinking is experienced freely in its own activity on the one hand, and on the other hand this other consciousness is, as it were, crystallized out of the will, then the two can unite, and a new human being emerges within the person, one who can now know themselves in the spiritual world and who can also perceive spiritually in the spiritual world—a spirit-soul being among spirit-soul beings, just as the physical human being is a physical being among physical facts and entities.

[ 4 ] That was roughly what I explained in the lecture the day before yesterday. It goes without saying that the assertion of such insights in our present day must still—one might say—face opposition from all sides. For what is being said here contradicts the habits of thought that today—and one might even say, quite understandably when one surveys the history of the last few centuries—must dominate the vast, vast majority of people. In particular, a complete contradiction arises initially from the side of the natural sciences. Now, the spiritual researcher does not approach this contradiction, this opposition from the natural sciences, in such a way that he would attribute the existence of such contradiction or opposition merely to human narrowness or a completely stunted logic; rather, he understands very well that such opposition is possible. Precisely because the spiritual researcher views the world from a spiritual perspective, he is able to fully empathize with every kind of contradiction raised, particularly from the side of natural science. And above all, one should not harbor the opinion that the spiritual researcher is a despiser of the scientific worldview. On the contrary—and I have emphasized this time and again in previous lectures here—on the contrary, the spiritual researcher precisely acknowledges the great, the tremendous achievements for all human work and for all human knowledge that natural science has incorporated over the course of the last few centuries since the dawn of the modern era of human development. Indeed, the spiritual researcher even views his relationship to natural science in the following way. Speaking in abstract terms—it could, of course, be explained in detail here, though that is probably unnecessary today—speaking in abstract terms, I say, one recognizes that, at a certain point in time, what we today call scientific knowledge of the external material world was bound to emerge. Anyone who delves into what preceded natural science—which is associated with the great names of Copernicus, Galileo, Kepler, and so on—knows how different what was called “natural science” before the era associated with these names was from what we now call the scientific approach to the world. This scientific approach has indeed, over the course of three to four centuries, amassed a treasure trove of knowledge for humanity that has profoundly, profoundly impacted all of life. And it is easy to see—if one takes even a brief, thoughtful look at how life has developed over the last three to four centuries—just how significant these scientific achievements are for both the spiritual and material aspects of life.

[ 5 ] Now the spiritual researcher goes on to say: We are living today in an age in which the human soul must be enabled to gain insight into spiritual life in much the same way as people three or four centuries ago were enabled to gain insight into the processes and entities of the purely natural world. With the same spirit of truth-seeking, the same spirit of inquiry, spiritual science seeks to penetrate the spiritual realm just as natural science has penetrated the natural realm over the past few centuries. And one can say: Spiritual science does indeed share this conviction with certain individuals, but in such a way that, particularly among many individuals who also recognize the tremendous transformation brought about by the scientific approach, this relationship between spiritual contemplation and natural science is nevertheless viewed differently than the spiritual scientist must view it. Thus, for example, one can see how philosophy—which also seeks to penetrate the spiritual realm through the same conceptual framework—not through the conceptual framework of spiritual science, of which I spoke the day before yesterday, but through the conceptual framework used in everyday life and in conventional science— this philosophy—which seeks to penetrate the spiritual realm through this conceptual framework—has in many cases found itself compelled in recent times, under the influence, I might say, of the brilliance of scientific observations, to take the path of accepting scientific truths, that is, simply accepting what the natural scientist has discovered about the essences of nature and the facts of nature. And then, through all manner of conceptual connections and by reflecting on what natural science had explored, people attempted to penetrate more deeply into the essence of phenomena. One felt, as it were, that philosophically speaking, one was no longer as sovereign in relation to nature and the world as in the past; one felt that one had to take the findings of natural science into account. The distinctive feature of many individuals who sought to value the scientific approach in this way lies in the fact that these individuals tell themselves: One must accept the results of scientific research; one must simply process philosophically what scientific research reveals about nature and its phenomena. Then one will recognize what can be fathomed more deeply about the world.

[ 6 ] This is not exactly what the spiritual researcher says. Rather, the spiritual researcher is fully aware that, in its own field, natural science has not yet unraveled all of its mysteries; that much, much more remains to be done before the scientific approach has reached its ideal; but at the same time, the spiritual researcher is aware that scientific methods, as such, have already been developed—at least to a certain scientific mindset— have developed to such an extent that natural science itself has provided information about what can be deduced from nature, and that further reflection following on the heels of natural science—using the same intellectual tools that natural science employs—can lead to nothing more. Natural science is, in a sense, something that is so constituted that, as it develops, it leads to a whole—not to something that could be taken and then subjected to philosophical speculation. Spiritual research does not, therefore, proceed by taking the results of natural science, combining them, and speculating about them; rather, spiritual research stands in a different relationship to natural science. Spiritual research holds that: because the transition has been made—say, by Copernicus, Kepler, and Galileo—through a particular way of observing nature, the soul’s powers have also entered into a special relationship with natural phenomena. Under the influence of this newer natural science, the human spirit had to relate to nature in a completely different way than it had previously. This gave rise to entirely different methods of thinking. A completely different way of relating to nature has emerged. People have thought about nature—and, fundamentally speaking, have also felt differently about nature—over the last three to four centuries than they had thought and felt before. And by directing the soul’s powers toward nature in a different way for a certain period of time, humanity has thereby exercised these soul powers internally. The soul powers themselves have thus carried out a different inner process than they had previously.

[ 7 ] Spiritual research does not take the scientific facts as its starting point, but rather builds upon what the soul’s powers have acquired for themselves over the course of centuries through a different exercise of those powers. A person who has gone through scientific thinking—through physics, chemistry, biology, and physiology—and who thinks by having acquired the methods and forms of thought of these sciences thinks differently from a person who has not gone through these sciences as they have been shaped in modern times. Thus, spiritual research first of all looks at the way thinking has been practiced in modern times. And in doing so, spiritual research becomes clear about this: Just as thinking is practiced in this way, it must gradually aim—through what it experiences in this practice—toward what was described the day before yesterday as a specific exercise of thought and will. Thus, it is not what has been investigated through the natural sciences that the spiritual researcher relates to spiritual research, but rather what inner awareness of these activities one may have acquired—that is what is given special emphasis: how one has learned to think differently, how one has learned to feel differently in nature, and how the soul forces have been stimulated. And here the spiritual researcher says: This stimulation is precisely the beginning of a path; for if one then pursues it further—it has itself led to what was described here the day before yesterday—one can see from this that one is truly led, through the practice of thinking, feeling, and willing, to grasp something within the soul that can detach itself from the physical organism.

[ 8 ] This is connected, ladies and gentlemen, to the fact that the researcher of the spiritual world must, in a certain sense, actually be a faithful advocate of the scientific approach to truth and knowledge. And this is indeed the case for those who have recognized the true essence of spiritual research; they understand what it actually means for the development of the spiritual world that these thorough, precise scientific methods have emerged in recent times—methods that are so well-suited to eliminating everything that might be an illusion about the world, and all that may be fantasy about the world—simply by developing a certain sense of fact, which can only fail to lead to spiritual research if that sense of fact turns into [fanaticism] about facts. That inner discipline of the soul’s life which humanity has been able to acquire by bringing thinking so closely into alignment with the external, objective course of facts—this inner discipline of the soul’s life is precisely what spiritual research recognizes to the highest degree as something exemplary. For through this, something enters the entire structure of thought that causes the soul to say to itself: You must not pursue as truth what lives subjectively within you, what you wish to believe to be true, or what pleases you; you must set aside everything that speaks within you out of your own pleasure, your sympathy, or your emotions: you must let the world of facts speak purely for itself. In particular, through the transition from mere observation in the natural sciences to experimentation—in which one allows nature itself to reveal its secrets through organized facts, while remaining merely an observer— it is precisely through this that humanity, having gradually incorporated the scientific mindset into its worldview, has gained a certain respect for the fact—and, connected to this, for the inner discipline of the search for truth.

[ 9 ] However, dear attendees, this is very often contradicted by what people do who do not approach spiritual research with a thorough understanding of the inner life, but rather pursue it as such with a dilettantish and superficial attitude. And the problem, I would say, with regard to the assessment of spiritual research, can arise specifically because those who wish to form a judgment do not base it on what true spiritual research has to offer, but rather on what all manner of dilettantes in the field of spiritual research present to the world. Very often, however, it turns out that these presentations reveal a certain contempt for scientific methods and also for scientific findings. This contempt is usually directly proportional to what one actually does not know about science. The true spiritual researcher will always make the effort to discipline himself or herself in the rigorous pursuit of truth and the research discipline inherent in the scientific method of knowledge. And the contempt for the scientific way of thinking is often immense, particularly among those who have never actually learned anything worthwhile from the natural sciences.

[ 10 ] It would be impossible to even begin to express what I have just said in this sentence, dear friends, had it not been for the fact that practical experience shows that people very often do not turn to what constitutes serious spiritual knowledge that stands up to the test of natural science, but instead cling to all the excesses of spiritual-scientific dilettantism, which suffers from the error I have just described. If misunderstandings arise as a result, they very often do so not through the fault of those who indulge in such misunderstandings regarding spiritual research, but in the vast majority of cases through the fault of those who glorify dilettantism in spiritual research and present the world with a pitiful picture of all manner of idle talk. The only fault of those who describe this talk as mere talk, as fantasy and daydreaming, is that they allow themselves—I would say—to be swayed by this amateurish approach to spiritual science and either spurn it or find it too inconvenient to engage with genuine spiritual research. But let us continue.

[ 11 ] Understandably, misunderstandings still arise from many, many other things. I would now like to point out one misunderstanding that is bound to arise in a perfectly understandable way. As we saw the day before yesterday, the spiritual researcher must speak of how, through what he does with his own soul, the soul’s powers are transformed, and how a different kind of soul activity—distinct from that of ordinary life and ordinary science—arises within his soul. Anyone who initially stands on the ground of natural science must then say to himself: Well, if a different kind of soul life emerges from what we might call normal soul life—that is something we are familiar with; these are all the abnormal soul phenomena known by various names, and from which what the spiritual researcher arbitrarily seeks to bring about in his own soul can be distinguished only through self-deception. The natural scientist then demonstrates to us how certain mental processes of normal life are closely linked to a normal brain; he demonstrates to us, precisely through the reliable, meticulous scientific method, how mental functions cease when certain parts of the brain are deactivated, and he shows us how mental functions—how the entire life of the soul, the entire mood of the soul—can be altered by a physical change. Thus the natural scientist can then reply to the spiritual scientist: Yes, is nothing else achieved through those strange exercises—which you, as a strange dreamer, speak of—other than an alteration of the physical organization—even if it is outwardly and anatomically undetectable? And isn’t what you call “spiritual research methods”—involving other powers of the soul—essentially nothing more than a particular form of disorder in the life of the soul as a whole?

[ 12 ] I would like to emphasize, distinguished audience, that this is a perfectly plausible view from the standpoint of someone who is firmly grounded in the natural sciences, provided they are not fully familiar with the methods of the spiritual sciences. It is a perfectly plausible view to express such an opinion, and in particular, it is a plausible view when one looks, from the standpoint of the natural sciences, at the nature of the soul forces exhibited by many who now call themselves spiritual researchers and who possess the opposite of what can indeed be described as a healthy soul life. Now, the natural scientist also points out to us time and again something that—I would say—is indeed trivial, but which is nonetheless, fundamentally speaking, compelling from the standpoint of scientific thinking; it is compelling when one seeks to refute the focus on specific, entirely non-physical forces and experiences of the soul that pass through birth and death. The natural scientist says—not on the basis of mere prejudice, but on the basis of careful findings of physiological science—the natural scientist says: One can see, after all, how physical life develops slowly from childhood onward, and how the development of the soul proceeds in parallel with physical development. Indeed, one sees there how closely the life of the soul is bound to physical life. One then sees how the body must have attained a certain level of physical maturity by a certain age for the life of the soul to become what one might call “normal.” And again, one sees how, with the decline of physical strength in old age and the failure of the organs, spiritual and soul life also declines. And time and again throughout the nineteenth century, objections to the existence of an independent spiritual and soul life arose that—I would say—were based on this very premise.

[ 13 ] Now, in this field, the spiritual researcher is by no means hostile toward the natural scientist; on the contrary, with regard to the positive points the natural scientist makes, the spiritual researcher agrees with him completely. The spiritual researcher says: Yes, if one looks at the thinking, feeling, and willing that are initially regarded as familiar in everyday life and in conventional science, then the objections raised by physiology are entirely justified; for this thinking, feeling, and willing are, in this form, closely bound to the physical organization of the body. But the true spiritual researcher does not take the position that, for example, by merely observing ordinary thinking, feeling, and willing—as they manifest in everyday life and in ordinary science—one can thereby scientifically arrive at the immortality of the human soul. Rather, the true spiritual researcher says to the natural scientist: You are entirely correct when you assert that the forms of thinking, feeling, and willing that manifest themselves in ordinary life and in ordinary science are bound to the physical-bodily organization; they are so bound to the physical-bodily organization that without this physical-bodily organization they could not and should not be conceived at all. But it is precisely through the spiritual-scientific method that it becomes evident that there is something within this thinking, feeling, and willing: that thinking of which I spoke the day before yesterday, or rather that thinking activity and that being contained within the flow of the will—that they are there, so deeply embedded that they are not grasped at all by the consciousness of ordinary science and ordinary life, and that they are what preceded our present earthly life in the spiritual world, and will follow our death back into the spiritual world. What is eternal in the human soul—that is what must first be sought. And it cannot be sought if one remains confined to ordinary thinking, feeling, and willing. So says the spiritual researcher. If there were still any philosophical worldviews today that believe they could contradict natural science by looking at ordinary thinking, feeling, and willing and deriving all manner of conclusions from this thinking, feeling, and willing—they could contradict natural science by saying: “Through the ordinary scientific method, one can see in this thinking, feeling, and willing something that extends beyond death”—when such philosophers speak this way, the spiritual researcher says: No, these judgments will disappear more and more from the world. Rather, with what is indicated here, the natural scientist will in fact be proven right more and more. And that is why spiritual research is actually in complete harmony with the well-founded findings of the natural scientific way of thinking in this field.

[ 14 ] But now scientific research is making further progress and says, for example: Yes, but if you now develop your thinking in the spirit-scientific sense—if you say that this thinking can be brought, through exercises such as those mentioned the day before yesterday, to express itself in an entirely different way—then it experiences something it has not experienced before. If you say that, then you are actually indulging in self-deception; because you simply do not know how much of the soul’s life is unconscious, how much of the soul’s life depends on mere—well, let’s say, speaking in the terms of recent natural science — nervous dispositions, physical dispositions, and how much has entered into these nervous dispositions without consciousness noticing it, but which now surfaces when one—as the natural scientist might easily suppose—maltreats one’s thinking in the way described the day before yesterday. So that the natural scientist says: “Yes, the researcher of the spiritual realm is indulging in self-deception, a pure illusion. While he believes he is finding something that leads him out of his body, something independent of his body, he is merely bringing the unconscious dispositions—the numerous unconscious dispositional elements of perception—into his consciousness, and in reality he is dealing only with processes of life and perception, yet he naively believes that by bringing his unconscious inner life to the surface, he has discovered something new that leads him out of the entire sensory world and into a spiritual world, whereas in truth he is merely immersing himself in the life of the body that he had not otherwise known.

[ 15 ] As long as one is confronted with what can be grasped through thinking, feeling, and willing in ordinary life and in ordinary science, this objection on the part of natural science is entirely understandable. It is also entirely consistent with the facts. It is so consistent with the facts that, indeed, even today—because spiritual science, as it truly is, has still found little acceptance—it is the case in very many instances that some person believes they have, through special soul exercises, attained something that goes far beyond the sensory world, something rooted in the spiritual world, —while in reality they are bringing forth nothing more than bodily dispositions that would otherwise remain unconscious, all manner of illusions that arise but which they simply do not recognize because they lack an overview of their own soul life, all manner of things that are transformed into hallucinations arising from bodily dispositions, and the like. This makes it all the more understandable that the natural scientist, who adheres strictly to the facts, views spiritual scientific research in this way, because dilettantish spiritual scientific research is indeed often nothing other than what the natural scientist quite correctly criticizes:

[ 16 ] However, it must be said, distinguished audience, that as thinking is developed in the way described the day before yesterday—as thinking is advanced to the point where it indeed reveals itself to be something entirely different than it was before, the spiritual researcher learns precisely to recognize the nature of what arises from the subconscious; he learns to distinguish—to distinguish carefully—everything that arises from the physical organization. That which does not come from the physical organization, but rather acts upon us from a spiritual world, can only be grasped through experience.

[ 17 ] But this distinction is acquired through discernment. And precisely because one comes to recognize this distinction, one must, in essence, agree with the natural scientist regarding everything that is not explored through the proper path of the development of thought from the spiritual world. Ladies and gentlemen, there is a significant difference between what can be regarded as a pathological or abnormal manifestation of consciousness and what the true spiritual researcher achieves in order to enter the spiritual world. And this must be strongly emphasized, because the correct method of spiritual research—as outlined in my book *How Does One Attain Knowledge of the Higher Worlds?* or in the second part of my *Esoteric Science*— because this correct method of spiritual research in fact leads not merely to a transformation of ordinary soul life, but rather to a situation in which the new soul life—achieved through the transformed soul forces—stands alongside the former soul life in such a way that both are encompassed and surveyed by the human being’s full consciousness. Yes, one can even say: An incorrect state of consciousness has been attained in spiritual research if ordinary consciousness is merely altered—if it becomes, so to speak, different. The correct state is achieved when this ordinary consciousness remains in the individual in such a way that he continues to develop the ordinary logic he had previously developed, that he remains just as rational as before, that he continues to develop and oversee the same impulses of the will, just as he actually is as a simple, straightforward, rational person in ordinary life; and, in addition—but alongside this—possesses the consciousness through which he can look into the spiritual world. Compare what is achieved there through the proper methods of spiritual research with what arises as a pathological mental life, and you will be able to say to yourself: In a pathological mental state, it is evident everywhere that the abnormal state of consciousness takes the place of the normal one, emerging from the normal state. You cannot imagine that a person who has become somewhat foolish can, at the same time as being foolish, oversee and also practice their normal human state. One cannot be insane and sane at the same time. This is the essence of pathologically altered consciousness: the pathologically altered consciousness develops out of the ordinary, normal state, and when the pathologically altered consciousness is present, the normal consciousness must have disappeared. Certainly, the normal state can return—of course; but they cannot exist simultaneously in the trivial sense of the word. However, the consciousness that the spiritual researcher develops in the manner described the day before yesterday must be completely identical to normal consciousness, so that the spiritual researcher faces what he previously was just as an ordinary person faces an external object; that is to say, what one previously was as an ordinary, normal person is regarded, through the spiritual-research consciousness one has attained, as something one can look at in the same way that one looks at an external object with ordinary sensory consciousness. One has become an object to oneself, together with one’s ordinary constitution. But this object continues to function; it remains completely intact. [...] And whoever applies, in the right sense and in the right manner, the methods described in the aforementioned books will come to nothing other than doing so with this newly attained consciousness.

[ 18 ] But there is one thing in particular to which we must pay attention, esteemed audience, which—I would say—is of special importance for the beginner in the methods of spiritual research. It is of particular importance that the beginner not allow themselves to be led astray into immediately changing their ordinary life or transitioning to a different one—something that can very often correspond to human inclinations—but rather, it is necessary and beneficial at the very least beneficial, for the beginner in spiritual research to adhere as much as possible to the daily activities and the sensible conduct of life that he or she has previously cultivated through upbringing or other circumstances, and to truly develop the spiritual-research consciousness alongside these. Otherwise, a kind of lack of freedom will usually take hold of the person. Certainly, ladies and gentlemen, one really need not go so far as to let one’s hair grow long in order to become a spiritual researcher, or—if one is a woman—to cut one’s hair very short, or to seek to distance oneself from ordinary life through other extravagances; one need not take it that far. But even without going that far, one might still hold the belief that, in order to become a spiritual researcher, one must step away from the ordinary activities of daily life, establish some kind of colony where one lives under entirely new conditions, and even arrange these living conditions in a specific way. This will not be particularly beneficial, especially for the beginner in spiritual research, because it actually encourages the mistake of carrying one’s previous way of life into a new one, and one does not have the advantage of having one’s previous way of life alongside as an object to which one can hold fast.

[ 19 ] So one can say: The objection raised by scientific methods—the objection raised by thorough, meticulous physiological science—that spiritual scientific consciousness might be based solely on illusions or the like, can be fully understood. However, it simply does not apply if spiritual-scientific consciousness is developed in the proper way. And here, too, it will be of particular benefit if the spiritual researcher is not—I might say—in part too proud or too lazy to engage with what the natural sciences offer, not only in terms of theories but also in practical guidance, so as not to lead the life of the soul into all sorts of extravagances. And one might even say: The more spiritual research education strives to apply the beautiful, meticulous results of legitimate scientific practice, the better it will be for that spiritual research education. What spiritual research strives for—precisely because it ventures into the realm that mere natural science can never enter—what spiritual research will always carry with it will be: complete respect for the legitimate claims of natural science itself and for what emerges for life from natural science. What must be strived for between the two is what one might call complete harmony. And for those who—I would say—are familiar with the nature of the spiritual attitude in sound natural science on the one hand and in sound spiritual science on the other, it is precisely to them that this complete harmony becomes apparent. But they will also realize that, when viewed from one side or the other, objections and antagonisms can arise in a perfectly understandable way. Antagonisms also arise from the side of one-sided spiritual science, which believes it can combat natural science without understanding its very essence. For example, one hears—and of course I do not condemn it—those who are familiar with the methods of the natural sciences speaking of an unjustified materialism, and who know how these very natural-scientific methods, in turn, give rise to a one-sided critique directed against spiritual science. And one also observes that many who wish to be scholars of the humanities speak of the materialism of the natural sciences from one perspective or another—from a perspective they deem “sublime”—and believe that, without any knowledge of what the natural sciences achieve in terms of methods and intellectual discipline, they can strike a blow against the natural sciences by leveling the accusation of materialism. The natural sciences have developed their methods over the course of centuries, and they have done so precisely by not overstepping their boundaries. They have developed these methods by adhering strictly to material processes.

[ 20 ] As a result, however, many have also developed a tendency [— and this is the other side of the coin —] to believe that the very thing they had been working with was the “be-all and end-all” of all existence in the world: matter, to which one must adhere in order to investigate the facts of nature. Matter ultimately became a god to be worshipped; it entered people’s field of vision so completely and so overwhelmingly that they were led away from all things spiritual. But natural science itself, when working within its own domain, must adhere to material facts. It attains its objectivity precisely by adhering to material facts, and through this, one might say, a form of materialism has rightfully found its way into scientific methods. If it is applied only to the extent that one wishes to observe nature, then one must even respect this materialism; one must hold it in the highest regard. For it is only by refraining from first speculating in a confused manner about all manner of possibilities not yielded by material processes, but rather by adhering to what the observation of these processes or experimentation reveals—that is, by proceeding scientifically—that one can bring to light the great achievements of scientific facts, which can then also have an impact on practical life. And what this materialistic method of natural science has brought about in terms of spiritual discipline—above all, a soulful devotion to what is happening, to the events of the world, and to the essence of nature—must also serve as a model in spiritual research.

[ 21 ] Spiritual research is, in a certain sense, very prone to provoking not only legitimate objections but—I would say—legitimate prejudices against itself. This comes about in the following way. The natural scientist, because he must adhere to the facts of material phenomena using a certain sound materialistic method, very easily comes to regard the spirit entirely as something that either does not exist at all, or at least cannot be known. And as a result, science gradually ceases to be what it could be—I would say: an outward revelation of the deep inner realities of spiritual life itself—but rather, science becomes something that is driven solely in such a way that one remains stuck in material life. Then this theoretical fixation on the material very easily carries over into practical life; and the consequence may be that one ultimately arrives at the view that everything spiritual has no value after all, or at least cannot be known; that science is a guide for human benefit. Thus, over time, this science has in many cases become a mere servant of social and even individual egoism, entering into the service of egoism, so that instead of seeking the truth as a goddess within science, what is often sought is merely that which can serve the material development of humanity in one field or another. Those who regard this material human development as the only thing that matters must, if they are consistent, ultimately view the science of nature in such a way that all knowledge gained from nature ultimately finds application in the material process of progress that humanity is undergoing. Indeed, one can see how—I would say—a scientific orientation that places itself in the service of practical, purely material interests looms menacingly before the eye of the soul. When a person devotes himself to scientific methods without any feeling or sense of the reality of the spirit, he is very easily inclined to regard the material—material utility in general—as the sole and only thing that matters.

[ 22 ] A similar—though, I would say, in a certain respect opposite—error can very easily arise when one approaches spiritual research in a similarly incorrect manner. That which is outwardly investigated in the realm of matter can easily be regarded as serving only the material progress of humanity. That which is investigated by spiritual research can easily serve the immature soul—one who is less concerned with the truth than with personal preference, sympathy, and the satisfaction of certain desires and longings—to promote a certain inner gratification, a certain inner vanity. And so it comes to pass that, just as in the realm of external materialistic science the utilitarians—those who wish to reduce science merely to material processes—become so very common, so too in the realm of spiritual science or the life that spiritual science seeks to bring about, one very often sees a reflection in vanity, in all manner of delusions of the human soul—because one does not proceed by seeking to bring the soul closer to the truth, but rather takes what spiritual research offers in such a way that one derives pleasure from it, feeling, as it were, elevated in one’s soul forces and in one’s vanity, particularly through what spiritual research has to offer.

[ 23 ] Just as the study of nature, once a person becomes accustomed to its material aspects, very easily leads to materialism, so spiritual research leads to all sorts of fads, to all sorts of detachment from the external rationality of life, when a person does not wish to set out on the path of truth, but instead wants to surrender to whatever strikes them as plausible according to their subjective needs and desires. Natural science deals with nature—which can easily lead to materialism; spiritual science deals with the human being and his soul. As a result, it particularly easily leads the human being to take himself—I might say—out of the pleasure of his own soul—very seriously. And as he feels, “You belong, with your soul, to the spiritual realm,” he repeats this to himself with satisfaction over and over again, and it then comes to pass that the great, all-encompassing truth of repeated earthly lives, among such hedonists of the soul, easily leads them to be primarily concerned with pondering whether they themselves might actually have been Alexander or Caesar or Marie Antoinette or someone else in historical life, or to seek their previous earthly lives elsewhere. But I do not wish to speak of such aberrations myself. Enthusiasm—I would say—inner need, a vain connection to spiritual life: this characterizes very many as standing not on the ground of truth in spiritual science, but on the ground of vanity and enthusiasm, on that ground where one is detached from the complete context of life. True spiritual science, however, does not lead away from this ground of true life; on the contrary, it brings one closer to life. Anyone who lacks the disposition to take life with full interest and seriousness, but who, to a certain extent, is inclined in their soul toward a kind of spiritual vagrancy, can easily come to regard life as meaningless or to adopt a careless attitude toward it simply because they are now involved in spiritual science. And very many who are unable to accomplish something meaningful in life through the work of their hands or through diligent living—one sees them speaking of a higher mission that has been bestowed upon them from the spiritual world and which they must fulfill above all else. In truth, one would often have to say: laziness and indifference toward life appear, translated into strange language, as a spiritual mission. It is therefore no surprise, esteemed audience, that those accustomed to inner spiritual discipline—which stems from a scientific worldview—look with a certain degree of derision upon those who, for their part, despise both science and, often, life itself, and speak of all manner of spiritual nonsense, simply because they do not want to understand life from a scientific perspective and do not want to engage with ordinary life with the necessary diligence, seriousness, and attention.

[ 24 ] But the moment one sees through these things, the moment one grasps the essence of the human sciences, sees their legitimate lifeblood, one finds complete harmony between the natural sciences and the human sciences. One will find that the spiritual scientist at every moment finds what natural science has to offer in a positive sense—right down to its legitimate materialistic method—to be fully justified, and admits that, in admitting this, at the same time demonstrates how one can enter the spiritual world—using faculties of the soul other than those justified in the natural sciences and in external life—in order to truly explore it.

[ 25 ] Misunderstandings regarding spiritual research can, in essence, be dispelled in no other way than by coming to know more and more deeply what is at work and alive in spiritual research, and by coming to understand how what is active and alive in spiritual science must, through an inner necessity in human development, be carried into the spiritual impulses of humanity from now on, just as scientific thinking has been carried into them over the past three to four centuries. Therefore, one need not be surprised if this harmony between natural science and spiritual science cannot yet be found everywhere today. On the contrary, one must find it entirely understandable that many people simply regard spiritual science as a flight of fancy. And those who are firmly grounded in spiritual science, who are thoroughly immersed in it, will find this misunderstanding to be something entirely understandable. This does not, of course, preclude the need to strive to clear away these misunderstandings and to establish harmony between knowledge of nature and knowledge of the spirit.

[ 26 ] And even in outward appearances, dear friends here today—what can emerge into the world through spiritual science is, after all, little, relatively little—even in outward appearances, it becomes clear how misunderstandings are bound to arise and are, in essence, understandable. In this regard, I would like to say a few words again today—I already attempted to do so last winter from this very spot—to speak once more about the external, as yet unfinished symbol of spiritual scientific research: the Dornach building. It is, of course, understandable, quite understandable, that this Dornach building is still met with many, many misunderstandings today. For, when it comes down to it: Just as true as it is that it rests on purely artistic foundations and not on anything symbolic or the like, it is also true that it presents itself to the world in such a way that, fundamentally, it appears as something entirely different from what people have been accustomed to seeing as a building or an artistic creation. It contradicts the habitual sensibilities of previous artistic perspectives in many respects, just as spiritual science contradicts—and must contradict—the habitual ways of thinking of previous scientific approaches in many ways. Why is that the case? Yes, dearly esteemed audience, spiritual science, as was shown the day before yesterday, leads—through its entire methodology—into a different kind of thinking, or rather into a transformation of thinking; it leads into an activity of the soul that arises from thinking and that lives much more deeply within reality than ordinary pictorial thinking, which aims at nothing other than a reproduction of external reality. While ordinary thinking must see its value precisely in the fact that the ideas it evokes are faithful reproductions of an external reality—not something directly experienced in itself, but only something relived from external reality—what develops out of thinking through the spiritual scientific method must be something that the soul experiences directly. The soul would not have to rise into an image, but into real life, into the objective thought-being of the world. And so it is also with what develops out of the will. Through this, however, the soul also comes to immerse itself even more deeply in what otherwise emerges instinctively as the artistic, as that which is in keeping with style, as that which gives rise to artistic forms. This is, after all, the essence of the soul’s activities that come to light through spiritual research: that the soul immerses itself more deeply into spiritual reality. And as the soul thus immerses itself in spiritual reality, it also immerses itself in a different way in the world of forms, in the world of shaping. This leads it, however, not to substitute something other than art for art, but to approach art in a different way. Whereas the other kind of art must proceed from what presents itself to the senses, and what presents itself to the senses can be elevated into the spiritual realm, so that art appears as something elevated from the sensory world, over which has been poured that which one has ascended to through spiritual research. In contrast to external sensory reality, what might be called “the apprehension of the artistic through spiritual science” follows precisely the opposite path. The human being then stands first and foremost within the spiritual realm. He vividly experiences the interweaving and life of spiritual events; he stands as spirit before spirit. And when there is now within him the possibility of artistic activity, when art is to come into being, then—unlike what happens in other forms of art, unlike what has happened in art up to now—the sensuous is not elevated until it can be imbued with the radiance of the spiritual; rather, the spiritual is brought down into the material.

[ 27 ] That, above all else—that is the essential point—is what should be strived for, for example, in the architecture of the Dornach building. The initial thought was: What needs to happen here? And based on this thought, the question was not: How can we, starting from existing architectural styles—from what is otherwise common practice or can be learned in architecture— but rather there was an entirely different question—a question, I would say, whose practical answer already shows how one must engage with the spiritual sciences in the immediate reality in a completely different way than with ordinary logical thinking or with the ordinary activities of the soul and life in general.

[ 28 ] When a fruit forms a shell around itself, what separates as the shell has emerged from and grown out of the same life forces as the fruit itself, with all its individual structures. And anyone who observes how the fruit forms in its kernel and in its shell—how, for example, the kernel of a nut forms the shell around it with all its fine veins, with everything that arises from the same forces as the kernel itself in its individual structures—anyone who observes this will say to themselves: The nut shell originates from [the same] forces as the kernel itself. This nut shell is not formed in such a way that one would have somehow conceived of a design intended to provide a shell around the nut; the whole is one. Thus, what is being pursued in the Dornach building had to become one: the forces that will prevail in what will be performances and presentations based on the spiritual-scientific worldview, in what will be messages from the spiritual world, and in the thoughts and ideas that are developed—all of this, in a sense, constitutes the core life. But the shell must also be formed from the same forces that are at work in this core life. It must be a unity, just as in every natural fruit the shell and the kernel are a unity and are formed from the same forces. The question could never have arisen: “Which architectural style can be applied here?” Rather, because a spiritual purpose was to be realized in the building, the building’s entire form was already given; the double-dome form, which encompasses all of this, truly came into being in this way. It had to be a unity.

[ 29 ] And so—I would say—in a certain way, even the walls had to become something other than what walls had been up to that point. I have already mentioned this here once, but it is significant—precisely for understanding the unique art that is to be developed here—which is still in its very primitive beginnings—that this very point be taken into account. Walls, even those that are artistically designed—and especially these—have, in art up to now, signified a closure. Even in Greek architectural art, walls signify a boundary; they shut out the outside world.

[ 30 ] The humanities, by virtue of what they are, should lead us spiritually out into all expanses. Therefore, forms must emerge on the walls—as sculptural elements and the like—which, I would say, cause the walls to dissolve as one gazes at the forms, so that one has the feeling: By living in the building and directing one’s gaze toward the forms, one finds in them something that leads out into the vastness of the worlds.

[ 31 ] And once again, one had to be in harmony with all of reality. For this reason, works of window art—such as those that were once common or still exist today as remnants of the old art—could not be created as windows; instead, a kind of window etching, if one may call it that, was employed. Various glass panels, of different colors, but each one in a single color. The figurative elements are then worked into these panels in such a way that only variations in thickness and transparency achieve the desired artistic effect. And this then interacts with the sunlight shining in—that is, with what acts and weaves within nature itself—to finally make the art complete. There, nature and art will intertwine to form a single work of art.

[ 32 ] And so new approaches had to be sought in a wide variety of ways. In the paintings that would adorn the domes, the aim was to treat the colors in a very specific way.

[ 33 ] Ladies and gentlemen, I can, of course, only touch on these matters in a very fragmentary way. Precisely for the very point that is essential when dealing with colors in relation to the figurative, we should attempt something that is not usually attempted with color. We should try to experience color directly. Everything into which the soul engages through spiritual research should be experienced inwardly. Color should not merely be a surface that reveals something lying beneath it, but color should possess an inner life and develop this inner life itself; so that life itself arises from the corresponding color and composition of colors; so that when one looks at the work of art, one has the immediate feeling, in the interplay of the colorful and that which lives its way from the color into the form, that one is living within what is alive in the color—that which is alive in the color is itself within it. One grasps reality in the color, not through the color; [one grasps] the reality that lies behind the color. Colors should express themselves, forms should express themselves—not something through colors, not something through forms. For this is precisely what living in the spiritual world leads to: that colors and forms, when they are to be depicted pictorially, to be depicted only as we truly experience them artistically in every moment—that one does not immediately adhere to any model, but rather brings that—which is life and weaving within the spiritual fact and the spiritual essence—into the weaving of the colors and the life of the forms that one now brings onto the surface. And this different approach had to be pursued for the reason that the entire structure was to be like a shell arising from the same forces as spiritual science itself. For example, one had to depart from the principle of erecting columns where each subsequent one is always identical to the preceding one—columns with capitals that are all identical to one another. A certain development had to be pursued—from the first pair of columns with their capitals to the second, and so on. This creates an inner structure, an inner development, just as nature itself does by developing the other tones—the second, third, and so on—from the fundamental tone, the prime. And just as it is not superstition—just as it is not some kind of mystical madness—to see seven notes in the scale and the repetition of the fundamental in the eighth note, so too is it not something mystically mysterious to seek a progression in the inner motifs of the capitals, and thereby a number of seven columns emerges quite naturally, because one stands within the creation of the world with the spiritual, just as the creative element of nature lives within the creative process itself. Thus a parallel emerges between what is primally present in nature—such as the seven notes, the seven colors of the rainbow—and what occurs in the spiritual realm. The strange thing is simply that it could happen that people looked at this building in Dornach and thought that seven columns had been chosen here out of some kind of superstition regarding the number seven. Those same people might say: What kind of grotesque superstition is it that the rainbow has seven colors or that the musical scale has seven notes! — After all, one would follow from the same logic as the other. Both are dictated by the nature of things.

[ 34 ] If anyone comes along and says: Well, you’d certainly want to reach an agreement with the person in charge of the construction project. But that you’re doing such superstitious things or such mystical stuff, like seven pillars, made of seven different kinds of wood to boot—though, again, what’s really meant is just the artistic aspect, which has to do with the variations in the wood—anyone who speaks like that is like someone who says: “I don’t understand why every string on a violin has to be different; they could all be the same, and so on, and so on.” — It will be a matter of realizing that what leads from spiritual science to art corresponds, in a sense, to the very essence of spiritual scientific work.

[ 35 ] Natural science has made tremendous strides in recent times. This is particularly acknowledged by spiritual science. But it is as if one were to begin drilling a tunnel from one end—as indeed happens—and work toward the other end. From the other side, spiritual science is now working toward natural science. They will eventually come together. Natural science works conscientiously in the areas where it is properly applied. It advances, I would say, to the point where life is to be grasped. The materialist therefore denies life altogether as a distinct element. He sees life merely as a combination of other natural forces. Natural science works its way up from the bottom to life. Spiritual science works fully consciously toward natural science; in its own way, it arrives at the point of not merely having this consciousness as such—as it exists in ordinary human life—but of extending this consciousness to the point where reality is grasped in consciousness. While natural science cannot grasp life, the spiritual researcher often cannot grasp reality in consciousness. But both work toward one another in order to grasp the life toward which natural science is striving, using a different kind of consciousness that is developed from ordinary human consciousness. Both spiritual research and natural science are working not merely toward harmony, but toward an inner interpenetration of life and consciousness. And when one views the matter in this way, one also sees in the art that is emerging today—and which works from a different perspective than other art—something that meets this other art halfway.

[ 36 ] What is simply incomprehensible is how people walk into the lecture hall in Dornach and say, for example: “Everything in there is mysterious, everything is full of symbols, everything is full of special signs.” — Not a single sign, not a single symbol is in there; rather, an attempt has been made [to design it in such a way that one asks oneself:] What must the thought be like if it were to flow into artistic forms? — The nonsense that is otherwise frequently perpetrated, let’s say, in theosophical circles—seeking all manner of mysterious signs, attaching them to all sorts of things, and wanting to see something artistic or an artistic surrogate in them—has been specifically avoided in this building. And everything is dissolved into artistry. That is precisely what has been attempted. Nowhere should the mere thought be allowed to take effect. And this was all the more possible because the thought—which otherwise seeks allegory and symbolism when it strives to transcend sensory reality—cannot, after all, escape from imagery, from unreality, from the purely conceptual. While this thought often seeks the symbolic and the allegorical—the living thought that becomes one with the [gap in the transcript]—it can express itself directly through art, so that art finds its full expression in forms, colors, and so on, in external reality. That which was to be represented [in this building] was not depicted in all sorts of artistic surrogates such as allegories, symbols, and the like. It is therefore only to be expected that when people look at these things—even though they cannot see a single symbol—they speak of all sorts of mysterious elements, all manner of signs, and the like being visible in this building in Dornach.

[ 37 ] But one need not be particularly surprised by these things when it can even be said that what has been characterized here as spiritual science has something to do with quoting the dead. If that can be said in all seriousness, as it has been, then the other thing can be said as well—and it can be said all the more easily.

[ 38 ] If one really takes a close look, on the one hand, at scientific work and, on the other hand, at work in the humanities, one will see how the two interact and how they can also work against each other—and then the misunderstandings will disappear. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, they will vanish just as they have vanished in other fields. I have already drawn attention to this. Even today, some who believe they stand on the solid ground of the natural sciences still think they must raise this or that objection against the humanities. We have seen how this is understandable. It is exactly the same—when one views the matter in the right way—as what emerged when people had to get used to the fact that the Earth does not stand still in space but moves at breakneck speed, and that the motion of the celestial bodies or even the apparent stillness of the Sun cannot be explained as it was in the past, but must be explained in the Copernican manner. At that time, the new scientific worldview contradicted established patterns of thought. And people believed—especially then, on the basis of religious conviction—that there were many, many objections to be raised against this newer scientific way of thinking. People actually believed that religion was endangered by this newer natural science. Because of this newer scientific way of thinking—with which science had, after all, been intimately connected over the centuries—many things have simply changed. Anyone today who delves into the objections that were raised back then against Copernicanism and Galileanism will find it historically interesting; but today it no longer makes any particular impression. Ways of thinking have changed. What was vigorously opposed back then has now become a matter of course for many. And the following example, which I already mentioned here in a lecture last winter, may be presented to people’s minds again and again.

[ 39 ] In the 1990s, a priest gave a lecture on Galileo at a university; he delivered this lecture on Galileo as his inaugural address as university president. He gave an excellent lecture on Galileo, even though he had assumed the rectorship of his university as a theologian. He did not speak on a theological topic, but rather spoke as a Christian—a true Christian—about Galileo. And he pointed out at the time that times had changed so much that one could say: Back when Galileo was alive, there were many who believed that Galileanism would endanger religion or Christianity in some way; that what one was previously allowed to know would somehow be endangered. But now, said this priest, we have reached the point where we have recognized that no kind of scientific progress can ever truly endanger religion; on the contrary, the more we discover of the glory of creation, the more we will learn to admire that which lives as the divine in the world.

[ 40 ] Ways of thinking have changed, and this is particularly evident in a phenomenon such as the one mentioned. There will also come a time when people will realize that neither any other Christian principle nor the principle of salvation is in any way endangered by what spiritual research has to reveal about repeated earthly lives and the like—just as people have come to realize that the Copernican theory cannot endanger Christianity. On the contrary, one must say: How small-minded are those who think of the mighty power that lives in Christianity in such a way that this mighty power could be endangered by anything that is discovered, whether in the realm of natural science or in the realm of the spirit. No, ladies and gentlemen, those who are spiritual researchers do not harbor such a lack of faith in religion or in Christianity; rather, they have a strong awareness that within Christianity—the greatest impulse of earthly existence—lives that which can never be weakened in its power by any discovery, made in the realm of nature or in the realm of spiritual life could ever diminish its power; rather, everything that can ever be explored in the realm of the spirit will be there [precisely to affirm] that which reigns and lives as the greatest earthly impulse in religious life.

[ 41 ] And so, back then, when that Catholic priest delivered his inaugural address on Galileo—which was later published—something very peculiar took place. At the same university there was a pure natural scientist—a natural scientist who had dealt specifically with criminal anthropology, with anthropology in general—a natural scientist who, while not a Darwinist, stood firmly on the ground of empirical research and who has maintained this stance rigorously to this day. Precisely at the time when that Christian professor assumed his rectorship and spoke in honor of Galileo, the natural scientist was developing a “science of the soul.” And lo and behold: the natural scientist dedicated his science of the soul to the Christian priest who had stood up for Galileo. The natural scientist—who is not even a Christian by creed or lineage—dedicated to the Christian priest a work that has now, as a study of the soul, developed entirely on a physiological and scientific foundation, as it were, in gratitude that the one who stood on the ground of spiritual life as a priest and as a Christian had found his way to an objective view of the natural philosopher Galileo. [Here we see] the harmony between spiritual science and natural science, between life in the spirit and life in scientific knowledge, revealed in a particular example! The time when people will no longer see the goal of spiritual striving in all fields as a struggle but as harmony—that will be the time when the misunderstandings regarding spiritual research will also fade away; these misunderstandings, when they arise today—whether in the religious sphere or in the realm of natural science—are just as understandable as the objections to Copernicanism were in their own time. But people will come to realize more and more that this goal is by no means some distant, nebulous ideal, but rather something that can—and must—be striven for in the very near future. It is remarkable how natural science is—I would say—unconsciously drawing closer to spiritual research. Let me conclude by citing just one very superficial example.

[ 42 ] Anyone who delves into Haeckel’s various writings will find in Haeckel precisely a man—who, in his *Welträtsel* (*Mysteries of the World*), even went so far as to disparage and denigrate what can be discovered through pure spiritual research—a man who has always emphasized that there is a “law of substance,” and that this is the life one must seek. Now he has written *Thoughts on Eternity*. They are conceived no less materially than his *Mysteries of the Universe* are; but now he is instinctively led to something most peculiar. He says: He acknowledges—right at the beginning of these *Thoughts on Eternity*—that he acknowledges the eternity of matter, the eternity of forces, and the eternity of the psychom—the eternity of the world soul—as he translates it.

[ 43 ] Well, ladies and gentlemen, what does Haeckel do? Does he just keep saying: “You chemists, you physicists, you must proclaim: the eternity of matter, the eternity of forces”? — No, Haeckel allows the chemist to study the individual substances and the individual relationships between them. Does Haeckel demand that one merely proclaim endlessly: “The eternity of forces”? — No, the individual perceptions of forces—electricity, magnetism, and so on—are studied concretely in their mutual relationships. Only with regard to the psychom, to the spiritual realm, does Haeckel for the time being stop short of saying that one word—or those three words: “Eternity of the psychom.”

[ 44 ] The science of the spirit seeks nothing other than to study in detail the psyche—that which, as a spiritual-soul aspect, extends throughout reality just as much as matter and forces do. It is precisely those who work from a foundation in the natural sciences who will truly delve deeply into the humanities—provided they still possess the strength to do so, a strength that Haeckel, of course, already lacks today. But one thing will become clear: that, esteemed audience, in the future people will observe nature and allow themselves to be influenced by what the natural sciences have to say about it. Today there are still many who believe that what natural science has to say consists of findings that one need only summarize to arrive at a worldview; and that one must stop there. Those who believe this call themselves monists and so on. But the time will come when what the natural sciences provide will no longer be regarded merely as findings, but when people will come to realize that what the natural sciences provide leads to further questions, indeed leads to the right questions—a time when every scientific book studied for the sake of knowledge and its goals will not tempt people to remain content with what science provides, but will lead them to questions, to a higher need for knowledge. The time is approaching when the study of the natural sciences will itself raise questions, rather than tempting people to remain content with the findings of the natural sciences alone. The need to approach the study of the spirit will arise from the study of the natural sciences. The natural sciences will generate a need within the human soul, and the spiritual sciences will satisfy this need. Just as needs arise in the human soul and can be satisfied by what the course of the world provides, so will natural science and spiritual science interact like the creation of a need and the satisfaction of that need. Natural science will provide what organizes itself as a sensory reality and gives rise to a need; spiritual science will provide what serves that need. Just as a plant grows from the earth, drawing from the earth’s substance toward the light and having a need for light; just as the light meets it, the sun’s power penetrating the plant, warming and illuminating it, and making the plant’s life possible as a unified, harmonious existence, so, in the future, the needs that develop out of natural science will appear as that which grows out of the soil of the earthly realm, and what spiritual science is able to offer will be that which illuminates and warms this earthly realm. Matter will seek the light, and the light will seek matter. Natural science itself will stand as a higher, more refined form of matter. Spiritual science will be there to warm and illuminate this matter.

[ 45 ] This is how the natural sciences will become—let this be stated in conclusion—the natural sciences will become like a body, and the humanities like a soul, and together, in full harmony, they will form the organism of humanity’s quest for insight and knowledge.