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The Human Being as a
Spirit and Soul Being
GA 71b

11 February 1918, Nuremberg

Translated by Steiner Online Library

1. The Human Body, Soul, and Spirit: Findings from Research in Spiritual Science

[ 1 ] Ladies and gentlemen! I will take the liberty of delivering two lectures here, which are related in content to a certain extent, so that some of what is said today will be further elaborated upon tomorrow. However, for the sake of my esteemed audience, I will strive to structure each lecture as a self-contained whole that can be listened to on its own.

[ 2 ] When one speaks today of “spiritual science” in the sense intended here, one still encounters—for the time being, and quite naturally, one might say—the strongest resistance and the most severe misunderstandings. In particular, this resistance and these misunderstandings stem from those who, with regard to all far-reaching questions of worldview, believe they are proceeding from the so-called completely secure, firm ground of the only true science—natural science.

[ 3 ] Now, in contrast, it must be stated from the outset that the humanities referred to here are in no way at all in conflict with the very latest demands and achievements of modern natural science; indeed, they are intended to be a necessary complement to and a necessary consequence of this modern natural science. If one is familiar only with natural science, one will very easily become an opponent and rejecter of this human science. If one is familiar with natural science—specifically with its most important and comprehensive contemporary findings—and at the same time is familiar with the human science referred to here, then, ladies and gentlemen, one is by no means an opponent of natural science.

[ 4 ] The fact that science education—as it is commonly called—is so hostile today toward the humanities can be attributed above all to a very peculiar circumstance. And it is necessary to address such matters right at the outset, because anyone hearing such debates—as are being conducted here—for the first time might very easily be led to think that what is being said here is unfounded; that it contradicts a truly scientific requirement. If I may preface this with a personal remark, I can certainly say that wherever natural science is legitimately present, I align myself with it against all dilettantish or superficial endeavors in the field of the humanities; yet it is precisely for this reason that I must advocate for the humanities in the form in which I am compelled to speak of them.

[ 5 ] One might well say: What is currently being accomplished in the realm of scientific thinking and scientific research has, especially in recent years, forged its way toward a great lack of prejudice toward the very superficial materialism of the mid- to late nineteenth century. Today, in contrast to—as I would put it—the scientific romanticism of the past, we already have such outstanding examples of objectivity and such compelling works as, for example, the recently published major work that is entirely exemplary in this regard: Oscar Hertwig’s On the Nature of Organisms. A Refutation of Darwin’s Theory of Chance. And one could cite many, many similar examples if one wished to speak specifically in praise of the natural sciences in the immediate present.

[ 6 ] If one considers the mindset, the way of thinking and conceiving that prevails among the level-headed natural scientists of the present day, these attitudes and this way of conceiving are similar to those of the greatest biologist from the Haeckel school, Oscar Hertwig, who states that natural science must confine itself solely to the sensory world, must investigate only the finite, and must not concern itself with the infinite; this, says a leading natural scientist of our time, must be left—this supersensory, this spiritual realm must be left to metaphysics, epistemology, and so on. — Yet another statement to which hundreds and hundreds of level-headed statements by contemporary natural scientists could be added. And one might believe that such attitudes, coming from that quarter, would certainly clear the way for an unbiased view of research in the humanities. And yet this is not the case. For even if such things are said, attempts are made on the other hand—precisely from this very quarter—to make it clear that true science, genuine science, can only be that which stands firmly on the ground of purely external, sensory facts. And so, on the one hand, research is confined solely to this realm of sensory facts, thereby excluding the supersensory and the spiritual; yet at the same time—albeit in a rather veiled manner—it is implied that everything said about the spirit and the supersensory cannot actually be truly scientific, for it is implied that rigorous, serious scientific methods can arise only on the basis of sensory observation, of the finite.

[ 7 ] It must be said: However, the way these statements and ideas are characterized, they are found primarily in the narrower circles of natural scientists or those who build some kind of worldview on the foundation of natural science, and one might think that this is of no particular concern to the vast majority of educated people. But that is not the case today. One need only be aware that today our multifaceted educational and intellectual life is nourished and satisfied through thousands upon thousands of channels, and that such ideas—which, at their source, are known only to those familiar with scientific literature—take root and find their way into the thinking of the broadest public in the most popular ways. Hence the widespread prejudice that is habitually present in people’s minds without their realizing it—the prejudice that anyone who speaks of the spiritual or the supersensible cannot be a true scientist.

[ 8 ] In contrast, the following must be noted: It is precisely when one is a true, yet discerning admirer of the modern scientific way of thinking that one comes to recognize the methods and ideas on which this scientific way of thinking has based its great achievements. But one also comes to recognize that these scientific concepts, ideas, and notions are best suited for the study of nature—and are bound to achieve their brilliant successes on the foundation of natural science—precisely when they are entirely unsuitable for making any statements about truths relating to the spiritual realm or the inner life of the human being. Gradually, precisely on the foundation of natural science, certain types of research have emerged that are not applicable to the spiritual realm. This is why—precisely because natural science possesses such brilliant, such vivid concepts, and because it can achieve such brilliant successes with these concepts—it is necessary, for its own sake, that a spiritual science be placed alongside natural science from an entirely different perspective.

[ 9 ] In earlier times, by observing nature, human beings—in accordance with their convictions and using scientific concepts—received all manner of spiritual insights from the realm of nature itself. Anyone familiar with older scientific ideas knows that, using concepts formed in the past, people genuinely and convincingly accepted that nature is imbued with spirit everywhere. Natural science has—rightly so—eradicated such concepts from its own domain. It has developed concepts that are suited only to viewing external natural existence without any spiritual element. Therefore, the need to explore the spirit from a different perspective arises precisely in the present. Consequently, it follows from the very nature of contemporary natural science that there must be a spiritual science alongside it, if humanity is not to completely lose the cognitive connection to the greatest questions that must fulfill the soul’s longing—questions such as those concerning human freedom, specifically the question of the eternal nature of the human soul, its character, and its essence; all these questions, which culminate in the question of immortality.

[ 10 ] I have titled today’s lecture specifically: “The Body, Soul, and Spirit of the Human Being.” There is a certain inner justification for this, dear audience, because—though I cannot go into the details here—since the ninth century it has gradually become customary, when speaking of the human being and his nature, not to speak of body, soul, and spirit, but only of body and soul. Anyone who sees through the facts in this area knows that it is precisely the neglect of the spirit that has led to inattention toward the spiritual; that, fundamentally speaking, the understanding of the essence of the human being has been completely obscured in recent centuries; and that it must first and foremost be illuminated once again. It is—if I may use the comparison—truly the case today with regard to the human being, even if one is familiar with everything that has been written in the field of philosophy, as if a chemist were dealing with a compound and always proceeded from the prejudice that it must contain two components. He does not even assume that a third component must be present. Consequently, when he experiments, he continually arrives at false conclusions.

[ 11 ] This is roughly the line of thought currently being pursued from a philosophical standpoint regarding the nature of the human being, specifically regarding the eternal nature of the human being. It is assumed that one may speak only of the human body and soul; one proceeds under the prejudice that the third element—the spirit—must somehow already be contained within the soul, and one is therefore bound to err. To substantiate this latter point—and, in particular, to point out for the time being how one is justified in speaking of body, soul, and spirit—let us consider the following.

[ 12 ] Those inner soul experiences that are most closely, most intimately connected with physical conditions nevertheless provide no real insight into what is taking place within the human body. I am referring to such inner experiences—which are not even regarded as experiences of the soul, yet are experienced as such—such as hunger and thirst or other things we perceive. Someone who were to observe continuously only how one becomes hungry or how one becomes satiated would not be able to arrive at what external natural science confirms: that while we are in a state of hunger or satiety, chemical changes in the blood or other chemical or physical processes are taking place within our bodies.

[ 13 ] But it must be said: A person’s ordinary consciousness is unaware of what is taking place within the body while the person feels hunger and thirst. It must be determined through specific scientific methods related to the study of the human body what happens when one feels hunger, satiety, thirst, or the like. Behind what one is aware of—what one experiences through everyday consciousness—lies something of which this everyday consciousness is unaware, but which only physical science can shed light on.

[ 14 ] Just think for a moment, ladies and gentlemen, about how much a person knows about their own body in ordinary everyday life. They know its outward appearance; they know what is visible to the outside world. They know—if you consider the extent of what one generally knows about the body— they know very little indeed. But this knowledge is expanded and supplemented by what external physical science—anatomy and physiology—has to offer. One might say: What remains unconscious at first is precisely what anatomy, physiology, and biology add, from the physical perspective, to what one experiences and feels inwardly.

[ 15 ] The spiritual researcher now shows—as we shall soon see—how the soul has different experiences on the other side of the human being. These other experiences—these experiences of thought, feeling, and will, of which we already have a superficial awareness that they are less inclined toward the physical side than hunger and thirst—these other experiences — are what the spiritual researcher focuses on first and foremost when he wishes to proceed with his science from the soul to the spirit, just as the physical researcher proceeds from the soul to the body in the manner just described. This is the difference between the physical researcher, who traces what a person experiences in the soul back toward the physical realm, and the spiritual researcher, who traces what a person experiences in the soul from the soul toward the spirit. Just as one cannot learn anything about the physical being by merely observing hunger, thirst, or similar general physical states—since this reveals nothing about the body itself, but rather requires penetrating into the body itself through specific scientific methods—so too is this necessary on the spiritual side and can be achieved.

[ 16 ] It is very commonly believed that one can attain the spiritual through what is commonly referred to as “inner contemplation.” People speak of all kinds of mysticism in this area. It is believed that when a person truly immerses themselves in their inner life, they must also gain insight into what underlies the soul as the spiritual.

[ 17 ] Without a specific spiritual science, one gains no more insight in this way than one would gain insight into the physical realm by merely observing hunger and thirst within oneself and immersing oneself in them. Mere mysticism, mere inner contemplation, is entirely comparable to brooding over hunger, thirst, the need to breathe, and so on. Just as one must pursue these phenomena in the soul but then expand one’s inquiry toward the body using the scientific methods of physical research, so too must one be able to pursue in imagination, feeling, and thought—toward the spirit—that which one does indeed experience through a certain deepening of the soul life.

[ 18 ] Now it can certainly be said: Regarding the nature of research—how one arrives at the spirit from the soul just as one arrives at the body from the other side—we still have very few accurate ideas about this kind of research today. It is very easy to believe, esteemed audience, that chemistry, physiology, and physiological chemistry are serious sciences; they have developed sound methods. Every researcher of the spirit will, of course, admit this. But when compared to what appears to be quite simple—namely, how one must approach the study of spiritual life—everything that physiology, chemistry, and anatomy have developed seems so straightforward that one must say: It is of a much simpler nature, for everything that constitutes the research methods of the physical sciences is easier to master. For no external manipulations, nothing that has any external points of reference in space, can lead to knowledge of the spirit. The point is that what one initially calls—albeit wrongly, in fact—inner life must, if I may use the pedantic term, be systematically expanded, so that the threads are truly drawn out toward the spirit.

[ 19 ] Now, I can only outline the basic characteristics of the kind of research that is necessary here. You will find more detailed information on this in my books How Does One Gain Insight into the Higher Worlds?, in the second part of Occult Science, The Riddle of Man, and in my latest book, which was published a few weeks ago, The Riddles of the Soul, and so on. But I would like to at least outline here, in principle, what is described in detail in these books as the path to the spiritual worlds.

[ 20 ] The point is that, if one remains within ordinary consciousness, one cannot know anything at all about what underlies human existence as the spiritual realm, and that, from a superficial perspective, one is actually quite correct in establishing a limit to knowledge at this point. If one wishes to limit oneself to what ordinary consciousness provides, one can say nothing other than that the spiritual realm is simply closed off to human beings. In truth, however, this is certainly not the case. Certainly, for ordinary consciousness, the situation is such that one does not know at all what is truly the soul and the spirit; these remain hidden at first, and one can only penetrate to the true soul and the true spirit through very specific paths of inquiry. What one experiences of the spirit is actually not much more than what one experiences of the body through ordinary external observation without scientific knowledge. What one sees of the body in everyday life, we said, is a part of what constitutes the essence of the human body.

[ 21 ] To ordinary consciousness, the spirit does indeed present its outer aspect in a certain sense; but this ordinary consciousness knows no more about the spirit than it does about the body when it considers it only from the outside. What ordinary consciousness knows about the spirit is actually contained entirely in the simple, short word “I.” If one utters this little word “I” while feeling and reflecting on what is connected with this concept of the “I,” then one has grasped a part of what underlies the human being as a spiritual entity; yet one has not much more than one has from the ordinary, superficial view of the body, without scientific knowledge.

[ 22 ] The point is that when one moves from the soul—from its experiences, hunger, thirst, and the need to breathe—to the body, one cannot help but—whether in one’s perspective or in reality—kill or dull what the soul is experiencing. Through this, one learns to recognize what underlies the soul’s experience. As a rule, one learns something about the body by driving the soul out of it. In spiritual research, it is the opposite. There, the aim is not to dull what one experiences in the soul—including what one may undergo through the much-vaunted mystical experience—but rather to intensify it. And I would like to begin by pointing out two inner activities that must be intensified.

[ 23 ] In principle, one can characterize the matter as follows: If one looks at human will—as it exists in ordinary consciousness—it is indeed reflected in the life of the imagination, but people actually know nothing at all about what underlies a volitional impulse. You can find this discussed in such an excellent book as Theodor Zichen’s Physiological Psychology; he excludes the will entirely from psychological consideration precisely because, in his view, this will is not present in anything that can be observed from an external perspective. What takes place outside of the human being—what actually happens when a person carries out any volitional decision, what occurs from the moment I merely intend to raise a hand until the actual raising of the hand—remains just as unconscious as, for example, the experiences from falling asleep to waking up remain unconscious. We have mental images that serve as motives underlying the will, but in ordinary consciousness we have no concept of the volitional process itself. This is the point, esteemed audience: that the researcher of the spirit is able to approach the process of the will as such in his imagination—to relate to the process of the will in the same way that one is otherwise able to relate to external nature.

[ 24 ] I’d like to use an example to explain what I mean. When we speak, it is a specific act of volition. The fact that we produce mental images in the process does not change what I have said. When we recite a poem that we have memorized, it is a continuous sequence of volitional impulses that gradually become habitual. Now, everyone knows that if they try to recite a poem while simultaneously making an effort to observe their own recitation of the poem as one would observe an external natural phenomenon, they sacrifice the recitation.

[ 25 ] It is precisely through such an example, ladies and gentlemen, that you can realize how impossible it is for ordinary consciousness to observe itself. Self-observation in a higher sense than is usually meant—that is what we must strive for. It is not enough for spiritual science merely to state: It is virtually impossible to recite a poem—or to recite it inwardly in one’s thoughts—while observing oneself in the process. Certainly, for ordinary consciousness this is entirely impossible; but the spiritual researcher must learn to do it. Just as the chemist applies his methods, so too must the spiritual researcher apply his own; he must do everything possible—you will find a more detailed description in How Does One Attain Knowledge of the Higher Worlds?—the spiritual researcher must do everything possible so that, on the one hand, he can act through his will and, on the other hand, at the same time observe what he is doing with his will in the same way one observes an external natural process.

[ 26 ] This is one of those things about which one can say: It sounds easy; actually carrying it out, however, requires far greater effort than mastering the methods of chemistry, physics, astronomy, or any physiological science. Of course, in such a case, it is not enough simply to observe oneself; rather, one must learn to recognize that inner attitude of the soul through which one can simultaneously perform an act of the will and, on the other hand, stand before oneself in a state of self-observation.

[ 27 ] Only by becoming capable of practicing self-observation in this way—only then—does one gradually come to distinguish between what constitutes ordinary spiritual life and true spiritual life. For if one develops an inner practice along the path that has been outlined—in this self-observation—one gradually arrives at an entirely different way of thinking. Thoughts such as those one has in ordinary consciousness do not arise on this path; rather, thoughts emerge that possess a much greater, inner, meaningful power—thoughts that have much more of what one might call a pictorial content, yet which at the same time point to a reality. When one learns to observe oneself in this way, one comes to know something that is hidden in ordinary life as a whole—something that lies within this ordinary life but remains entirely in the unconscious, in the subconscious; something now emerges from ordinary soul life that one did not know before.

[ 28 ] First of all, one can see from the inner consequences how things actually stand. For it is only when one gradually learns to distinguish ordinary soul life from true soul life that one begins to grasp, more and more, the concept that can then serve as a guiding principle for contemplating the true nature of the human being. One learns to recognize that what is called ordinary soul life relates to true soul life—which one is only now discovering—in the same way that a mirror image relates to the real human being standing before that mirror image. The important thing is that one acquires this great insight with regard to the life of the soul: that the outer, familiar life of the soul—as it appears to ordinary consciousness—is the reflection of the true inner life of the soul, which is unknown to the ordinary life of the soul.

[ 29 ] The result is that it is only now that we actually gain insight into the true nature of the human body. Before seeking knowledge in this way, one cannot truly know the facts about the human body. I would like to point out just one fact: Anyone who, in the spirit of purely external natural science—whose methods are fully recognized by the [spiritual] sciences, even when applied in an outstanding manner, as, for example, by Oscar Hertwig—examines the external physical life of human beings, and who, among other things, traces how a person’s physical life can be traced back to that of their parents, grandparents, and so on, One speaks of the inheritance of certain characteristics. Whenever one speaks of inheritance in the field of natural science today, one always holds the view that something is inherited, but that within what is inherited as the body lie the seeds, for example, for the development of the “I.” It is said that as the “I” develops within this body, self-consciousness—the “I”—emerges over the course of life on the basis of inherited characteristics. It is entirely impossible, as long as one remains within the realm of pure natural science, for a different view of the matter to take shape.

[ 30 ] Only for those who, in the manner described, learn to distinguish the true soul from its mirror image—the ordinary life of the soul—does the kind of observation offered by natural science today seem as if someone were trying to explain: “Human beings are connected to the air through their lungs, and the origin of the air that human beings breathe in and out lies within the lungs; the air comes from the lungs and returns there.” — Such a person would be succumbing to the delusion that what constitutes air is somehow intrinsically connected to the lungs themselves, whereas in fact air is in our surroundings and must be sought outside the human being. If one is able to perceive these relationships correctly, one will naturally not seek the origin of air in the lungs. However, when one follows the spiritual path, one comes to recognize in the soul-spiritual realm that the belief that the “I,” the self, also arises from the child’s body—as it develops according to the inherited characteristics from the parents—is exactly the same as believing that the origin of air is to be found in the lungs.

[ 31 ] Through the methods of spiritual science, one comes to recognize that the “I” is not something that can arise from the body; rather, one comes to recognize the independence of the “I” and the fact that the “I” is added to what originates from the father and mother. These points must be particularly emphasized today, because the opposite view is so deeply ingrained in contemporary habits of thought and perception that what must be said from the perspective of spiritual science seems entirely absurd to many. Nevertheless, it can and must be said if one takes as one’s starting point not amateurish self-observation but an observation grounded in spiritual science. There one learns to recognize that, just as air enters the lungs from the outside, this “I” enters from a spiritual world into what originates from the father and mother—what is physically inherited. Just as air leaves the lungs and is not gone once it has left the lungs, so, too, this “I” passes through the gate of death—a “I” that has just as little to do with physical life as the lungs have to do with air, and just as much to do with it.

[ 32 ] If one then continues along this path, one does in fact—precisely with regard to the point just mentioned—arrive, through physical life, at very specific, truly scientific concepts, in comparison to which even the fully appreciated findings of natural science appear amateurish. One arrives at this by learning to distinguish between what is the inner, spiritual “I” and what is inherited. One comes to form real concepts of what one actually inherits from one’s ancestors. These matters can only be touched upon today; I merely wish to stimulate your thinking and cannot provide an exhaustive account. What we inherit is, in the deepest sense, our physical form itself. Anyone who understands how what we do, in a certain sense, in our ordinary soul life depends on the physiognomy of the body—by which I mean the body’s inner structure—will be able to imagine that a person lives out their life within the inherited forms of the body, but the foundation is always the inherited form. This inherited form, which in turn—through its structural forces—can shape the substance we take in during life up to sexual maturity, so that this substance, which in turn directs heredity toward the offspring, now possesses the form. This statement, which spiritual science must add to scientific knowledge—that [only] the form is inherited from the ancestors and passed on to the descendants, and that the form is transmitted through the substance—provides a complement to natural science. With regard to a certain matter, it will be very illuminating concerning the relationship to the higher constituents of the human being.

[ 33 ] I must continue my examination of the path of research into the spiritual worlds. I have first described how ideas must be added to the impulses of the will, and how self-observation in a higher sense must take place. If one wishes to come to know the essence of the human being—the spiritual essence of the human being—then not only must this self-observation take place, but something else as well: one must carry out within one’s soul that which, in another sense, results in a strengthening of the soul life—what can be called, in technical terms, “meditation.” You will find more detailed information on this in the books mentioned; I can only outline the basic principles here.

[ 34 ] Just as we have seen that ideas must be directed toward self-observation within the will and its impulses, so too, on the other hand, the will must be introduced into the life of the imagination. This is even more difficult. And it is precisely this introduction of the will into the images—while we would otherwise let the images unfold according to sensory processes or allow them to drift dreamlike, for example, in reflection on what we have experienced—that whoever wishes to introduce the will into this world of images often needs years and years to achieve real results. The matter is by no means simple. Years and years are required if one is to truly engage in research in the realm of spiritual life.

[ 35 ] The point is to introduce the will into the life of the imagination, so that one learns, on the one hand, to direct one’s imaginations just as one directs one’s hands. The will must be introduced into the life of imagination. This is best achieved by trying to detach oneself from ordinary imaginative life and reflecting only on what one introduces into consciousness through one’s own volition. Therefore, one should, as far as possible, not introduce images that are provided by the external sensory world or by the ordinary sensory world; rather, self-created images or images that have been suggested to one—these are what should direct and guide the life of imagination. It is volition through which the life of imagination is guided. But it must not stop there, for then one would not arrive at spiritual research but at daydreaming. On the one hand, then—and this sounds downright paradoxical—on the one hand, the will, the act of will, must be introduced into the life of the imagination; on the other hand, this will must in turn be excluded, because otherwise one would slip into fanciful thinking, which must not be allowed.

[ 36 ] But if one continues the meditative life with patience and energy, if one tries again and again to sustain such mental images that one has formed oneself—whether symbolic or similar—that is, if one repeatedly brings such mental content into one’s consciousness, then one acquires an inner mastery of this life of imagination. One comes to know something that one could not have known at all before; one gradually learns that one can move from one image to the next—even if nothing in these images is derived from external sensory perception—by sheer will. Arbitrary imagination is merely an experiment, merely the path; but it gradually develops—like a natural inner life process—into the realization that, just as one does not arbitrarily link one image to another when observing external images, one now realizes that one must orient oneself toward something that flows into the images themselves; so that little by little—even though one is now following the course of representation inwardly—one cannot help but develop one representation from another, allowing one representation to follow another, just as regularly and not arbitrarily as one does when guided by external sensory observation. Just as one is subject to necessity there, so one gradually becomes subject to a purely spiritual, inner necessity. Just as the external sensory world reigns in external representations, so an inner spiritual quality gradually comes to reign in the process of representation that one has thus cultivated.

[ 37 ] Just as one ascends from the external soul to the true soul through the other method I have described, so one ascends in this way from imagination to the spirit, by discovering the spirit as something objective, just as the external sensory world is objective. One knows quite precisely whether one is merely stringing together dreamlike representations or ... /gaps in the transcript]. And as a researcher of the spirit, one knows quite precisely whether one is … or whether one is observing the inner process that … does not arbitrarily string one image after another, but rather develops one image from the other in the way that the spirit demands this sequence of images. Through this, one ascends through a life of meditation to a true observation of the spirit.

[ 38 ] Again, if one wishes to carry this out with strict rigor, it is a task that lasts for years and demands far more dedication and willingness to make sacrifices than astronomical or chemical work; yet it leads just as rigorously to the inner observation of the spirit as astronomical, chemical, and physiological methods lead to the observation of external laws.

[ 39 ] Anyone who, as a spiritual researcher, has experienced in countless instances how one often begins a path of research into specific areas of spiritual life, and who has then seen how this path of research is guided by a spiritual necessity just as much as it is otherwise guided by sensory necessity—anyone who has thus experienced how what one has pursued from a certain starting point turns out differently than one actually expected, quite different from what one had assumed—may well speak of an inner necessity governing the inner spiritual journey. There is no arbitrariness here. If one is truly a researcher of the spirit, one experiences all too clearly that, before one begins to investigate, one has false ideas; that the inner necessity of the process brings one to insights that one could not have arrived at through sensory observation. One may say: When one truly advances along the path of spiritual research—things generally turn out quite differently than one expects. And if one does not wish to form arbitrary notions in this sense when exploring the spiritual world—one expects something entirely different, and something entirely different occurs. And one is just as surprised by this as by an unexpected experience in the outer world.

[ 40 ] These matters are not discussed in order to impose the expectation that everyone should go through them—although it would be highly desirable that, to the extent that one can follow the path of spiritual research as outlined in my books, as many people as possible in the present day would undertake this path, so that they may bear witness from their own experience that the spirit—and the human being’s share in the spirit—is a reality. But the integration of spiritual science into culture, and the acceptance of what spiritual research brings to light, do not depend on one’s being a spiritual researcher oneself. That which is to be explored in the spirit must be explored through those inner paths—which are, in truth, outer paths—that you will find described in my books; but once these things have been explored, anyone can confirm them using ordinary human reason.

[ 41 ] I would like to say: Although today, to a certain extent, anyone can become a seer—one does not need to be a seer to recognize spiritual research as such—the fact is that one can put what spiritual research brings to light in the service of life, just as one can put what chemistry and physics produce in the service of life without being a chemist or physicist oneself. I would like to use a comparison to characterize what needs to be characterized: Not everyone can be a watchmaker, but most people will appreciate a watch. — Not everyone can be a seer; yet what the science of clairvoyance can uncover about the nature of the human being is of importance for every person’s life. When someone enters a watchmaker’s workshop, they see that the watch did not come together by chance. You can tell that just by looking at the watch. When the seer reveals the spiritual forces and beings from which life and its realities, its essences, flow, then life and the reality of life are evident to every person. And just as one can tell—without having seen the watchmaker at work—from the way the watch is constructed that it was assembled by the watchmaker, so too, after the seer states that life has come into being from the spirit, one can judge whether what the seer says is true or false. Moreover, it is not a matter of clairvoyant development presenting itself to humanity without explaining how it arrives at its results. For anyone can observe whether what the seer has to say is reasonable and how he arrives at his results. And what is discovered in this way through spiritual research will gradually have to become part of our culture, for the very reason that advanced natural science, in fact, lacks the methods to reach the spirit on its own; consequently, this necessitates a different approach to reaching the spirit. And even though there are still many prejudices against spiritual science today, they will be dispelled as people come to realize more and more how what the spiritual researcher has to say is confirmed in life.

[ 42 ] I would like to briefly mention at least one point: Recently, a figure well known here in this city, Dr. Rittelmeyer, has, in a number of fine articles in the Christliche Welt, also pointed out the religious significance of spiritual science, as it is understood here, and has, in general, vividly and accurately characterized the very nature of this spiritual practice aimed at attaining the spirit. Recently, objections to these writings in the Christliche Welt have been raised from another quarter, one that is also widely respected. I do not wish to address these objections further; I merely wish to point them out. It is said that a major flaw of this anthroposophically oriented spiritual science is that it does not rely on mere grace—that the Spirit would, as it were, come to one, that one would be graced in the same way one is gifted with talent or genius—but rather that this anthroposophically oriented spiritual science attempts, through arbitrary exercises, to lead the soul into the spiritual world, into the spiritual realm. This is characterized as a particular aberration; it shows nothing other than that this so-called esteemed group, which is rebelling against Pastor Rittelmeyer, simply does not understand what is at stake.

[ 43 ] If one advances from the soul to the spirit—indeed, if one merely advances from the ordinary experience of the soul to the true soul—then one enters into pure activity, and that would be precisely the wrong approach if one were to adopt a passive attitude toward the spirit. For everything that comes to one through a passive attitude leads one into dependence on the body. To enter into the spirit independently must be a free act, an act that arises entirely from the human will. Without entering the spiritual world through a free decision, one cannot enter it. Anyone who speaks of the spirit as something that can be attained without this free entry into the spiritual world does not know what spirit is; such a person knows only that aspect of the soul life which, in a more or less subtle, refined way, is nevertheless dependent on the body.

[ 44 ] Thus we see how, even today, in the broadest circles—including influential ones—there is not the slightest conception of what the spirit truly is: this real spirit, which is an active force, and which is not something with which one can connect merely passively. At best, one moves away from the essence of the spirit; one denies the spirit when one develops only that which behaves passively. This is precisely where the difficulty lies in entering the spiritual realm: on the one hand, one enters it arbitrarily, but this can only be an attempt; on the other hand, one encounters other necessities, and everything turns out quite differently than one had expected. One develops the will within the life of the imagination, but one ultimately realizes that one can develop this will only in the same way as when one turns one’s eyes from one point to another. Yet the will must prevail in everything that is truly to enter the spirit. That is the essential point.

[ 45 ] And when one comes to recognize through direct perception what the true soul is in contrast to the reflection of this true soul, then one comes to know precisely that aspect of the soul—I showed earlier how one recognizes the “I” as something that the body takes in—one comes to know the true soul in contrast to what are merely ordinary soul experiences. Coming to know this true soul, attaining a direct perception of this true soul, leads at the same time to the realization that this true soul-being is not confined within the boundaries between birth and death. Above all, one learns to recognize how this true soul-being is actually obliterated by physical life, how it can be perceived in its true form through consciousness—which is thus expanded, as I have characterized it—and how it can be perceived before birth or conception and after a person has passed through the gate of death. One learns to recognize that the outer earthly life is not at all what one assumes it to be in ordinary life.

[ 46 ] In everyday life, one tends to think: Well, whatever one experiences between birth and death simply comes one’s way. Chance brings one thing, then another; life is shaped solely by the external sensory world. — It cannot be otherwise than that one has this notion in ordinary life. Yet this very notion leads one into a certain predicament when one is able to contemplate the life of the soul. If one has this insight, then one knows that one would actually extinguish this life of the soul itself if one were to extinguish the external experiences. The word “soul,” the abstract concept of “soul”—that is not what matters; what matters is the real, meaningful inner life.

[ 47 ] But when you turn 40, ask yourself what this truly concrete, genuine substance of your inner life actually is. It is, in fact, your experiences; you cannot separate your experiences from your inner life. What you have within your soul—think about how things would be different if you had gone through something else. It is you yourself, after all, and these experiences have become who you are. When you speak of experiences coming to you as they do, you are saying that your soul has actually come to you as it does. Observation of the true soul reveals that this is not the case; it leads us—just as a telescope leads us out into the vastness of space—it leads us beyond birth and death. We look into worlds where we exist before birth or conception, and where we will exist after death. We look into these worlds and we know: What we experience here from the moment we become conscious until death, when we lose our earthly consciousness to gain another—whatever comes to us, does so not by chance because we, let us say, lived from 1872 to 1925, but because we previously lived in a spiritual world and united ourselves with what we inherited as a body from the spiritual world, and allowed ourselves to be led down from the spiritual world through an inner longing of the soul in order to live through the series of experiences that can be lived through in the place and [at] the time into which we were born. What constitutes the outer experiences of life—what approaches us as a longing, as a will to experience them—is already present within us before this life.

[ 48 ] These external experiences are certainly connected to what we experienced in the spiritual realm before we proceeded to conception or birth. And as for what we experience as inner soul experiences: We do, after all, grow inwardly and spiritually through our external experiences; we acquire this or that habit; we adopt ideas that guide our lives, and so on. Regarding this inner experience between birth and death, one might truly ask: What significance does it have for the world outside of us? One might ask that. And a contemporary philosopher, who has a peculiar penchant for railing against philosophy—he says: Human beings have no more philosophy than an animal, and differ from the animal only in that... [gap] —, who is a professor of philosophy at the university, observes inner human life and says: Natural life—life in the wider world—actually unfolds without paying any attention to inner life. And this philosopher uses the expression: “Nature is vast and admirable, and we peddle nonsense!”

[ 49 ] One might easily come to this conclusion if one had no connection to the spiritual world. One might ask: Why, apart from the events that take place in the cosmos, is there anything else going on that appears to be a reflection of the cosmos? The truth is this: While our outer soul experiences are longed for from our spiritual existence before birth, our inner experiences—the gradual development of the soul, that which grows within us as a sense of life—are what we carry over into the spiritual world through death; this is the seed of these inner experiences that blossoms into what we experience after death.

[ 50 ] Thus we are led beyond birth and death into a spiritual world—not through speculation, but by first seeking the kind of observation through which the eternal can be perceived by the spiritual eye. It develops the perspective into that world in which we truly exist. Spiritual science leads us to the perception of the spiritual world, to the use of what, in a broader sense, can be called—in Goethe’s terms—“spiritual eyes” and “spiritual ears.”

[ 51 ] And once again, the fate of human beings is to extract individual elements from the abundance of reality, when you consider what we ourselves are and what our fates are—and yet, ordinary consciousness is again of the opinion: This fate befalls us as it does; on the one hand, it is a sum of coincidences that coalesce into a whole; on the other hand, the fact that—if we truly look beyond abstract concepts—we are, after all, that very fate ourselves. When one considers this, one again arrives at a disharmony between what ordinary consciousness sees in fate and what fate actually is for what we, as human beings, essentially are.

[ 52 ] When a person ascends by experiencing the inner necessity—as I have described it—within their imaginative life, and by being able to observe the spirit, they come to recognize that the body is a reflection of the spirit, just as the ordinary soul is a reflection of the true soul. But what we experience as fate is also, in a certain sense, a reflection of the spirit; it is just that something is at work in our lives that is hidden from ordinary consciousness. It comes into play when we see our fate approaching us—spiritual observation reveals this—what radiates as forces from earlier earthly lives comes into play in our present life. This is the mystery of the will, the mystery of the fact that the will—without our knowing it, for it lies in the unconscious—is drawn, just as hunger is drawn to food, to that which ultimately shapes its destiny. The fact that we know so little about this will in our present life stems from the fact that what now works as will, shaping our destiny, does not operate at all in ordinary life. Just as the seeds of our outer soul experiences lie in our prenatal life, so too does the will that shapes our destiny lie in previous earthly lives. And that which develops as wisdom of life within the soul—that which is hidden in the frailty of old age—passes with us through the gate of death; it grows from the level of imagination into the will for the next earthly life.

[ 53 ] Not only, when one is able to expand one’s perceptions by tracing the threads from the life of the soul to the spiritual life, not only is the truly spiritual understood, but the entire course of the human eternal being through births and deaths is also understood. We first come to realize, through the initial stages of self-observation, that the “I” is something that unites with the inherited body. We come to realize that our soul experiences are drawn from the spiritual world through which we pass before birth. We come to recognize that destiny—the wisdom of life—is what leads to repeated and repeated earthly lives.

[ 54 ] I could only give you some hints today; you can read more in my books. I will have some specific points to elaborate on tomorrow. The hints I have given were intended, above all, to characterize the fact that spiritual science has nothing to do with mere daydreaming or with the formulation of worldview concepts, but rather that spiritual science is based on genuine, true research—research that is just as internally rigorous as the external natural sciences are in their own fields—indeed, even more rigorous. Anyone who has followed the path of spiritual science can already attest to this. And you can see from the last chapter of my book On the Riddles of the Soul that this spiritual science can also shed light on areas of natural science.

[ 55 ] It may be said, esteemed audience: That which is investigated as the spirit is actually what first sheds light on that which surrounds us as nature. This does not invalidate the natural sciences, but in relation to the spiritual sciences, they appear much like the difference between the perception of someone who feels their way around objects in a dark room and that of someone who turns on a light and illuminates the objects. However, when one feels one object after another in the dark—the first, the second, the third—one always feels the same thing. It is therefore not surprising that the room, which is merely felt by touch, is described in the same way by everyone. Because natural science conducts its research in spiritual darkness, the concepts are, by their very nature, always the same; but because, when one turns on a light, one can shine it here and there, the configuration will differ depending on the various vantage points. Hence the easily raised—but by no means accurate—objection that is commonly made: that one researcher of the spirit says this, while another says that. This is the case, but it is so because the researcher of the spirit initially kindles the light, spiritually speaking, from a particular point of view.

[ 56 ] But there is a way out. And the very approach I advocate is seeking this way out. People shy away from the inner drama of the soul, from the drama of insight that one must go through, because they fear entering into the subjective realm. This is a transition, but then one enters a realm where the spirit is the objective, where the spirit can be described equally from all sides, just as the sensory world can be described. When you turn on a light in a room, however, you only perceive a certain aspect of the room. If you turn the light around, the impressions contradict one another; the room looks different from every vantage point, but in this way you gradually gain an objective overview of the entire room.

[ 57 ] In particular, the branch of spiritual science that I am striving toward seeks to apply spiritual research methods and to illuminate everything in the light of the spirit, but it attempts to do so from various perspectives. This results in a different kind of predicament, but it is not a serious problem—even though it is otherwise said that a spiritual researcher who adopts different viewpoints is contradicting himself. He does contradict himself, but he does so in order to gradually characterize reality. This underlies the critiques of my worldview that have recently become so popular, in which contradictions are sought out. These contradictions are no more significant than four photographs taken from four different sides of a room. The spiritual researcher must, in a certain sense, contradict himself by characterizing life from different perspectives. Let only those who lack understanding come forward—it is precisely through the existence of the various images the spiritual researcher provides that he seeks to demonstrate his objectivity.

[ 58 ] In the ordinary physical world of the senses, it is true that one need not be exposed to this if one merely describes external facts. But the situation is different when it comes to the spiritual realm. The spirit is a living entity, and living entities have their contradictions. In general, it is also the case that anyone who is familiar with spiritual science and then carefully and conscientiously immerses themselves in the mode of thinking of natural science, as it is currently developed, will find that natural science, down to the very details, not only does not contradict spiritual science but is a complete confirmation of everything that spiritual science has to say.

[ 59 ] That is why I would like to say: The spiritual researcher by no means shies away from having his point of view examined—indeed, from having it rigorously examined—by the most diverse spiritual traditions that otherwise exist. Let us examine what the spiritual researcher has to say in light of true natural science—not superficial natural science. After all, even after 30 years, monism still espouses what natural science has long since overcome. Let us examine what the spiritual researcher has to say in light of true natural science, and we will find it confirmed. The spiritual researcher does not shy away from truly scientific scrutiny. Thus, I would never in any way advise someone who feels drawn to what I call spiritual science to shut themselves off from the world, to refrain from examining things, or to lose themselves in blind faith in authority. No, no one should believe what is said; no one should accept anything on the basis of authority. But the more conscientiously they examine it in light of the natural reality of the present, the more they will come to understand it.

[ 60 ] It can also be examined in the context of religious life. It is clear to anyone grounded in spiritual science that religious life—as Dr. Rittelmeyer demonstrates—gains a firm foundation and a sense of security through what can be learned from spiritual science, a foundation that is needed today. Spiritual science—and we must not succumb to this misunderstanding—is not in opposition to religious life. It does not say: Do not go to church! No, religion is not to be replaced by spiritual science, nor is spiritual science meant to be a new religion; rather, it seeks to be a form of scientific inquiry that stands alongside natural scientific research, yet which, for those who approach religious life from the perspective of spiritual science, enriches that religious life and provides it with a firmer foundation. Spiritual science does not say: “Go to spiritual science and do not go to church!” but rather: “Go to spiritual science, and you will see what religious life has to say in a new light.”

[ 61 ] And life itself—social life, ethical life, legal life, life as a whole, even the immediate practice of living—all of these can be enriched by spiritual science in that those who do not become deluded themselves come to form their ideas in such a way that they better conform to reality, so that one does not believe oneself to be a practical person while actually being a dreamer, but rather ideas imbued with reality, a sense of inner security, a will that can find its bearings in life and navigate its paths—that is what people can gain from spiritual research.

[ 62 ] Spiritual science should not be something understood as a theory, but rather something that permeates life like an essence, something that makes people capable and strong for life. So one can turn to the natural sciences, one can turn to religion, to life itself—spiritual science will not prevent anyone from doing so. It will, in fact, be glad if it is tested against science, against religion, against life. For whoever is grounded in its foundation knows that these tests will not refute it, but that these tests, if carried out seriously, will always confirm it.

[ 63 ] It’s not as if one couldn’t be mistaken in the field of spiritual science, but error is possible in any field. That is not the point. The spiritual scientist does not demand blind faith in authority. He says: Go and examine spiritual science; it will only gain in science, in religion, and in life. For my sake, go ahead and even test spiritual science against Johannes Müller’s worldview; and this spiritual science has no fear that it might lose anything as a result. I will not in any way hurl back at Johannes Müller the accusation he hurled at me in response to Pastor Rittelmeyer’s articles: that spiritual science is something tempting, that it represents a new temptation for people. That would be cowardice; let people be tempted, if the anthroposophical worldview is to be a temptation—they will recognize it for themselves, not when it is suggested to them that they are being tempted, but when they are told: Go to science, go to religion, go to life, go even to Johannes Müller—you will truly find that spiritual science is not refuted by these, but rather confirmed by science, by religion, by life, and even by Johannes Müller. For this spiritual science is, as I have been able to outline briefly—tomorrow I intend to speak a little about the conditions in the spiritual world itself—this spiritual science seeks true science, seeks knowledge gained through conscientious effort. And above all, it must establish itself in cultural life by being able to withstand the onslaught coming from the natural sciences.

[ 64 ] Du Bois-Reymond, a physiologist whom I hold in high esteem, has set forth in his famous studies on animal electricity and in other brilliant speeches much of what must characterize modern natural science. But at the same time, he said: This natural science can extend only as far as the sensory world, for beyond that, science must cease. That was a definitive statement. And today, a broad segment of humanity stands under this influence. But what this definitive statement means—I would like to express it through a comparison: Someone sees a tree growing out of the ground. One cannot see how it is rooted in the ground; that troubles one. The tree grows and grows: what lies in the ground has something to do with it. Now one wants to examine the tree using the means at one’s disposal; one digs it up; one exposes its roots to the air. It withers away; it is killed because it has been uprooted. — In more recent times, people have tried—because they did not want to proceed from human knowledge of the external sensory world to what is the root of all knowledge in the spiritual world—to uproot knowledge of nature, just as one uproots a tree. Just as the tree withers away, so too does knowledge wither away when it is torn from the ground, the spiritual ground.

[ 65 ] Spiritual science is to provide proof—increasingly so in the future—that we can develop purely mechanical, purely materialistic science, torn from the very foundations of spiritual life; and in place of du Bois-Reymond’s dogmatic statement, “We seek science, but where supernatural life begins, science ends,” — in place of this dogmatic statement, the insightful maxim, the attitude, must take its place: When knowledge, when science is torn away from the foundation of truly spiritual life, then science dies; not that science must cease where the supersensible world begins, but where science is sought outside the supersensible world, there true science dies, there it is uprooted, there it is killed. This will be a conviction that connects human beings to the spiritual world in accordance with their inner disposition, and this conviction—[this] is what spiritual science aims for—should become the conviction of as many people as possible in the future.