The Rudolf Steiner Archive

14. The Historical Life of Humanity in the Light of Super-Sensory Research into Reality

[ 1 ] Ladies and gentlemen! The day before yesterday, I took the liberty of speaking here about the spiritual-scientific approach to reality and how it is intended to lead us into true reality. Building on those discussions, I would like today to present some practical applications of this spiritual-scientific view of reality, some applications in the realm of human life which, it seems to me, are of great significance for practical living—especially in our time, and certainly even more so in the future—not so much because I believe it is necessary to speak to a wider audience about the historical way of thinking, but because I believe it is important to demonstrate such historical perspectives for practical living.

[ 2 ] The great poet and writer Goethe believed he could judge the value of historical reflection—as it presented itself to him in his time—in a way he expressed in the following words: “The best thing about history is the enthusiasm it stirs within us.” One might think that Goethe intended thereby to dismiss all the possibilities that people otherwise see in the study of history when, in contemplating human life, they seek to answer the recurring question of why we are here in life and what we can learn from history and human behavior for our practical lives.

[ 3 ] It must be said, however, that the more one immerses oneself in this historical way of thinking, the more one comes to realize that it can indeed—as this saying by Goethe may also imply—be a distillation of a rich life experience, a rich wisdom of life. Especially in our time, one is very often led to a curious impression by the question: What can we gain from history for our lives? — Our catastrophic present must repeatedly prompt us to recognize that significant forces of human life are at work across the entire earth, that there are experiences from which we can learn an immense amount for the practical application of life in relation to the present. And it must also be said: Some things are happening today that might give one cause for concern regarding these questions.

[ 4 ] Of the hundreds of cases that could be cited in this regard, I would like to highlight just one that is particularly significant in light of our current suffering. In August, September, and October of 1914, one very often heard from people who were thoroughly astute, who possessed sound judgment in the sense that one can have it today—I repeat: in the sense that one can have it today and as it has been formed through historical and practical-historical observation— one could hear from these people at that time that, given the existing preconditions, this war would certainly not last longer than four, at most six months.

[ 5 ] It must be said that, back then, there was no reason to smile at or react ironically to such a statement. It was precisely those people who had keenly followed the latest historical events in any field—whether economic, sociopolitical, or otherwise—who made such statements, and these were by no means unfounded in light of historical analysis. But today, an anxious question presses upon our souls: What have we actually experienced in reality that contradicts such a view, even one historically grounded? And a further question may follow: What else might reality bring with regard to our lives? — One inevitably arrives at the question: Is there a way to view historical knowledge in our customary manner so that conclusions about the present can be drawn from the immediate experience of life?

[ 6 ] From a time long past, I would like to cite an example—the example of a man whose name guarantees that he did not pass judgment out of recklessness or irrationality, the judgment of a man whose significance you will immediately recognize when I mention his name later—a man who, in 1789, took up a professorship in history at a German university and sought to explore the conclusion he had reached from the historical analysis he was now to present to his students. He said: “The various European states may, after all, have come so far in their development that they resemble the members of a large family—one that may still be at odds with one another many times in the future, but one that will never again be able to tear itself apart.”

[ 7 ] This judgment, which he expressed in his inaugural lecture—drawn from the depths of his historical research—on the eve of the French Revolution, certainly contains an insight that leads one to conclude that reality was something entirely different from what even the most profound historian could have surmised. For when one considers what followed in Europe, one cannot say that the members of the European family may well quarrel, but not tear one another apart. And yet, the man who made this judgment was Friedrich Schiller upon assuming his professorship of history in Jena.

[ 8 ] We see that one need not be short-sighted to err when it comes to applying the historical mode of thought to the practice of life. For the way the question is framed, and the way in which one has hitherto been compelled to apply the historical perspective and the historical mode of thought—which has led to this or that result — was likely not suited to intervening in reality with the correct judgment, so that this reality could be mastered in such a way that one might also arrive at an appropriate application of one’s will in relation to reality based on historical observation.

[ 9 ] Today, it truly cannot be said that this question is not of extraordinary importance, for when it comes to human life in human society, we can no longer limit our perspective to a narrow scope. We are in the midst of catastrophic events that have gradually engulfed the entire earth, and the demand is being made of humanity not to remain confined within narrow boundaries—even in its reflections that point in this direction—but to attempt to draw from historical reflection an impulse that could extend across the entire earth, at least in a certain direction. One has the feeling, at least in certain circles, that the old—I’ll just single out one, for example, Ranke’s—approach to history would no longer suffice to meet the demands of the new life.

[ 10 ] What has emerged in this regard becomes interesting when one broadens one’s perspective—and especially when the observer of history pauses to reflect and asks: What stands out in the whole of human life when one looks at the way human history is viewed? I would like to select a characteristic example that can illustrate a number of things for us today. I will first set aside the fact that the German historian Karl Lamprecht feels that Ranke’s approach is inadequate, and that he attempted to explain historical events more from an internal perspective, focusing on the driving forces rather than the people themselves, and thus to examine history more closely by analyzing how events arose from these driving forces over the course of time.

[ 11 ] Among the many things that could be considered regarding Lamprecht, we should take note of a summary he provided when he gave lectures at various locations in America at the beginning of this century on his approach to understanding the history of his people. I am well aware that there are numerous critics today who may consider Lamprecht’s approach misguided, or perhaps even fanciful. But you must admit that Lamprecht is quite right in his approach, as he attempts to bring the inner motives and forces of human life into the framework of historical interpretation. The intention behind this can be gleaned from the lecture he gave, in which he sought to illustrate how, according to his conception, he envisions the course of German history.

[ 12 ] Lamprecht also has a unique way of presenting the historical development of a people. I would like to briefly touch on the conclusions Karl Lamprecht reached over the course of his long life. He says: When one looks back at the earliest period of German historical development up to the third century A.D., one finds that all the spiritual forces from which human historical life and historical contexts arise are grounded in a specific spiritual disposition of our ancestors in those ancient times. — Karl Lamprecht characterizes this spiritual disposition as the “symbolizing” one. From this state of mind arose the social structure through which life itself takes on the character of a symbol—not only in the sense that life becomes a symbolic representation, but also in that when a leading figure emerges, they do so with such a state of mind that one could say this figure is a symbol for the entire tribe.

[ 13 ] This, then, is what Karl Lamprecht observes from the third century to the tenth century; but after that, a completely different state of mind emerges and shapes history. This is now the subjective-typical mode, in which it is no longer the symbol that is depicted, nor the personality within the symbol, but rather the type, which becomes the representative of the people and the tribal kind. Customary laws now take root; people interact with one another in such a way that they reveal the typical nature of these relationships and shape it into a certain social structure.

[ 14 ] From the eleventh to the middle of the fifteenth century, according to Karl Lamprecht’s account, what he calls the “conventional age” emerges in human history. It is no longer something that springs from the soul and gives rise to a symbol or archetype that comes to the fore, but rather individual people, guided by tradition or the reason of leading figures or leading circles, establish what is to govern the entire interrelationship. This then leads to certain conventions and certain judgments. This is the Age of Chivalry, the era in which the social structure takes shape, allowing conventions to take particular hold.

[ 15 ] It is very strange, however, that Karl Lamprecht places the most significant turning point in history in the middle of the fifteenth century, for it is with the fifteenth century that the historical impulse begins. Lamprecht says: “In the middle of the fifteenth century, a new phase in the development of German history begins”—and he believes that such a course can be applied to the historical development of the entire nation, that people no longer appear as types or in conventional ways, but that the individual is now an individuality and, as such, inserts himself into the course of history and the social order. According to Karl Lamprecht, this [individual] age lasted until the eighteenth century, and then began the age in which we now find ourselves—the [subjective] age—in which historical life increasingly incorporates what the individual experiences and what does not determine him from the outside, but rather touches him from within. Consequently, more comprehensible elements enter the course of historical understanding; the educated public begins to play a role, whereas in the symbolic and conventional age one was more concerned with elemental forces that, arising instinctively from within the human being, influenced volition and social structure.

[ 16 ] From this overall picture, one can see what Karl Lamprecht is striving for; he seeks to bring into the history of humankind that which, within the human soul, determines the course and development of events; he seeks to delve deeply into the picture of human society and believes that intensive historical research should be merely a preparation for what really matters. It should, however, strive to penetrate the human soul in order to show how history emerges from within the human soul.

[ 17 ] If one examines these attempts to view historical developments in a somewhat more rigorous manner, one will find, upon examining the individual approaches, that they leave one highly unsatisfied in many respects, especially when reviewing the individual epochs as described by Karl Lamprecht. One finds that the same concepts keep cropping up, and while he believes the epochs to be distinct, he is unable to grasp what he seeks to grasp, for he is incapable of delving into reality itself. Nevertheless, this attempt is of interest because Karl Lamprecht shows us that a path must be sought toward an inner contemplation of history, toward a spiritualization of historical research. And from this perspective, it is very interesting to compare what another man has presented here on the basis of a serious historical endeavor—a man who seeks to compare the history of his own people with that of another, using a different method of historical research. From this, one will be able to see how two personalities—one belonging to a specific sphere of human life and the other to an entirely different one—relate to the historical contemplation of life.

[ 18 ] This other figure is Woodrow Wilson, who, just as Karl Lamprecht was speaking to the Americans about the history of his people, undertook an endeavor that—from a completely different perspective—led to the conclusion of how he viewed the history of his own American people. Here, something very peculiar comes to light. It is of particular interest to everyone to examine this figure—who is very distant from us—in the same context as Karl Lamprecht. But with Wilson, we encounter a major peculiarity. He views the history of his American people—a history that is, after all, quite easy to overlook. Yet, when it comes to this brief span of American history, Wilson and Lamprecht—it must be said—stand in a striking contrast, which makes one sense what is truly important to both of them.

[ 19 ] Wilson seeks to capture what he is meant to portray—that which is characteristic of the development of the American people—and one can see how, by moving from one point to the next, he in fact brings out the entire narrative of his people’s history with remarkable clarity. He demonstrates how all those are mistaken who apply a historical perspective to America based on the model imported from England—a perspective they seek to impose on American life without realizing that America has shaped its way of life under unique circumstances. Wilson seeks, in his own way, to create a pure American identity; he points out that it is a distinctive feature of America that its culture gradually moved from east to west, with the west not fully developed until later times. People moved from east to west, conquering the wilderness, and he illustrates how American historical development lies in this struggle against the wilderness—how everything Americans have accomplished in life arose from the necessity of conquering the West from the East. It was not politicians or diplomats who made American history, but the hunter who felled the trees, the farmer who ventured into the wilderness and cultivated the land—and these were also the most important issues for Americans: the issues of agriculture and farming. Wilson views American history from this perspective, and he arrives at a [plausible] solution to these questions by showing how they arose and what led to the necessity of this westward expansion.

[ 20 ] It must be said that one gets the impression that Wilson, in his own way, accurately depicts the history of the American people; he understands the relationships between the things he describes and portrays. One senses that he brings something quite remarkable to the table by seeking to identify the defining moments in American history; and when he then says that a characteristic of the American is his keen eye, his passion for seeking adventure, his ability to quickly assess a given situation and act swiftly, and his way of working for his homeland—that all these plans should be quickly conceived and carried out—one senses, in everything he writes: He knows where to find the salient points.

[ 21 ] Woodrow Wilson also spoke about [the method], the approach he takes in his historical analysis, in a rather interesting lecture; and I must say that I find something exceptionally characteristic in this very lecture. I would also like to take this opportunity to say that, even though I have just described to you the way in which Wilson portrays the history of his people, Woodrow Wilson is not a figure whom one could in any way call likable—not for subjective reasons, but because I believe that the kind of perspective Wilson employs cannot be fruitful in our part of the world, even though I must describe it as I have done today. We will return to this later. But I do not believe that anyone who has heard me speak on several occasions can accuse me of having formed my judgment of Wilson—which is similar to the one held here in this country—for any chauvinistic reasons. I formed my opinion of Wilson long ago based on his “literature” and his advocacy for the freedom of Americans, and I expressed this opinion in a lecture in Helsinki in the same spirit as I have today. The war has therefore changed nothing in this regard. This can be documented, and I am therefore entitled to speak about his character as I have done today.

[ 22 ] What struck me as peculiar about Wilson’s approach to history becomes apparent when I compare what he himself said about this way of conceiving history with certain explanations—which are very dear to me and to which I am very sympathetic—offered by a figure who was active only in a specific field of historical analysis, but who is infinitely appealing to me because of the special inspiration he was able to provide. This is the great master Herman Grimm, who long ago offered his judgment on how history should be viewed. What is striking here is that one can take individual sentences from Grimm and transfer them into Wilson’s mode of presentation without interrupting the train of thought. And that one can, in turn, transpose sentences from Wilson into Grimm’s own essays; and one then sees that they correspond with what Wilson has said.

[ 23 ] This experiment can be carried out, and I consider it immensely significant for a certain way of conceiving the world and for the contemporary mindset. It [calls itself “practical”] believes it can immerse itself in all practical realities and in all concepts, and takes pride in how far it has come in terms of its practical outlook on life. And yet the present is thoroughly theoretical and crammed full of intellectual concepts. When someone today hears a debate from any side, they pay attention only to the content; they follow only the literal wording. This is particularly glaringly evident in the present and is very important in relation to what is said, for everyone must realize that two people can say the same thing in terms of the wording, yet what they mean can be entirely different. Theory alone does not account for everything in life, nor does purely intellectual content. However, there is something in the way a person engages with social life that goes beyond the content of their statements—beyond theory; it is how that person speaks, the manner in which they draw from life, and how what that person has to say comes across.

[ 24 ] And it is precisely in this example that something quite remarkable comes to light. When I consider Lamprecht’s approach—and I am not speaking from a national standpoint, but solely from the standpoint of objective science—when I examine Lamprecht’s view of history, I see, despite all its flaws, how people struggle hard, how they fight hard to achieve what they are striving for. There may be fewer concepts than in Wilson’s work, but he struggles, and you can tell from the way he speaks that, sentence by sentence, his struggling soul acquires what it may present as a false view, but which it has actually achieved through lived experience. And this is particularly the case with Herman Grimm’s brilliant style [in the field of art]. And I tell myself, despite all appearances of objectivity: the statements that are dear and valuable to me—and which I find in both Lamprecht and Grimm—make a completely different impression in Wilson’s work. I ask myself, and I dare to answer: Everything that stands out in Wilson’s work is as if he were instinctively driven toward the truth, but it never gives the impression that it is his own experience, his own striving and achievement; it merely gives the impression that—even though it is directed toward practical reality—it does not spring from the depths of the soul, but rather as if what Wilson expresses were a form of self-suggestion, a manifestation of the subconscious. I believe I earned the right here yesterday to use this expression. Wilson does not come across [in his historical analysis] as if he were fathoming the soul piece by piece, but rather it gives the impression that he is receiving revelations from the depths of the soul, as if he were possessed by his own teachings, as if his inner self were suggesting them to him.

[ 25 ] It is very curious to see two figures in history standing in such stark contrast to one another—figures as different as Lamprecht and Grimm on the one hand, and Wilson on the other. It is also interesting to consider other perspectives. One cannot strictly call them historical, but they can be grouped under historical perspectives.

[ 26 ] One could also cite other observers of life, including Asian ones; I will mention only Rabindranath Tagore, who—among other things he has said about the spirit of Asia—has provided such a comprehensive account. He has also spoken about the spirit of Japan, but something quite different emerges from his account. It becomes clear that this man—who, just as Lamprecht and Grimm represent German life and Wilson represents American life, stands within Asian life—must be regarded as a cultured representative of Asian culture. Anyone who observes this man’s life gains the impression that he wishes to explore the essence, the original source of Indian and Japanese life, by placing less emphasis on what Japan and India have experienced in more recent times and instead investigating what the actual sources are. He has a unique way of admiring human culture; Rabindranath Tagore says that, for his people, there should really be no history—the human soul should remain untouched in its inner life by what moves people in the immediate present. His way of presenting things spans the entire globe, and those who look more deeply know that our grave catastrophe, more than is generally believed, does not depend on the things on which it is thought to depend so much today, but rather on the spiritual impulses of the peoples dwelling throughout the world.

[ 27 ] This is symptomatic of a mode of representation that seeks to distinguish itself from the general public and to portray what must hold true in the life of the general public. And if one considers what is closest to us—Karl Lamprecht’s historical conception—one finds that almost every chapter is characterized in the same way and with the same concepts; namely, one finds that the concepts [are contrived; they] do not become submerged in reality. But why is that? The answer to this question is extraordinarily important. Lamprecht seeks to examine the human soul and to investigate how history is shaped by the impulses of the human soul; to do so, he requires an understanding of the laws of the human soul, which show us how the human soul manifests itself in social life. And there he describes actions in such a way that it is impossible, if one wishes to apply them to other areas of inquiry directly related to life, to arrive at a correct conclusion; in a word, one finds: One does not delve deep enough!

[ 28 ] And this certainly raises the question: What would it be like if those researchers of reality—whom we spoke of the day before yesterday—whose knowledge is structured in a completely different way than that of natural science and mysticism, knowledge that must first be acquired by the soul when the soul is in a state of consciousness so opposite to the ordinary state of consciousness as waking consciousness is to dream consciousness — what if those researchers of reality were to view history through the lens of their insights? In this short time, I can only present the results, but they are arrived at through the method I described here the day before yesterday; and the following must be said first of all: To the superficial observer, human life unfolds in two states—sleep and wakefulness—and by studying these two states, sleep and wakefulness, one seeks to understand the entire course of human life.

[ 29 ] But things are not that simple, and much harm has been done to our current worldview by the belief that things are much simpler than they actually are. In reality, things are quite different, and even what we call the state of sleep—in which our consciousness is subdued—is quite different. For this sleep consciousness does not disappear entirely during waking life; it is not only present from the moment we fall asleep until we wake up, but it also reveals itself to the serious student of the soul in the light of day, for we are awake only to a part of our soul life. We are awake to our life of perception and to our life of imagination, but we are not awake to our life of feeling and to our life of will. Anyone who truly and earnestly studies the most important state—that from waking to falling asleep—will find that the clarity of consciousness, the strength of consciousness, which is present in relation to the life of imagination, is not present in relation to the life of feeling and, in particular, is not present in relation to the life of will.

[ 30 ] What I mean here has also been noted by other researchers of the mind and by many other thinkers who have grappled with reality. For example, the Swabian scholar Friedrich Theodor Vischer drew attention to how closely related all passions, the emotional life, and all the affections of waking consciousness are to the life of dreams, and we may say: During waking life, our feelings are not present in consciousness with the same clarity as perceptions or thoughts; rather, as feelings, they exist only in the same way as the image of a dream does in the sleeping consciousness; and in the sleeping consciousness, it happens that we recall the images of those dreams when we are awake. Then the dream image resides in waking consciousness.

[ 31 ] Nor does anything clear about the emotional life of the dream reach us; rather, we have only an idea of it within us. But what has actually penetrated us is not the emotion we dreamed; for this gives rise to the illusion that we have that emotion in our conscious mind, but we do not; rather, it emerges from the twilight into the light and evokes the idea, so that we then often confuse what we have experienced with what we have dreamed. We also believe that the same is true of the life of the will, but in reality it is this: what extends from the actual processes of the will into our world of imagination is our ability to form concepts and thoughts about what we do; but that which is actually connected to our constitution and our inner life eludes consciousness. The actual content of volition—the way in which it takes place—is, from its inception to its execution [the movement of the hand, the grasping of an object], a thoroughly unconscious process, just as the unconscious processes during sleep are. Therefore, we must say: Our waking life is not merely a waking life, but also a state of the subconscious, a kind of dream life that extends into this ordinary waking consciousness.

[ 32 ] What I have just discussed becomes apparent through truly conscientious and serious observation of the soul—and, at least to a certain extent, even through the ordinary study of the soul that I spoke about here the day before yesterday. When the soul succeeds in penetrating into another consciousness that looks into another life, then this consciousness succeeds in arriving at a different kind of soul observation. Then, in the depths of the soul, in the form of imaginations—[which are not, however, our abstract ideas and thoughts, but rather penetrate into life]—the feeling that comes to life awakens; then one knows that what is being illuminated there exists not in ordinary consciousness but only in the consciousness of sleep in its full reality. One must look into this through this kind of insight with an intensely strengthened feeling if one wishes to bring this feeling and the subconscious of the soul into ordinary consciousness, and one must make even greater efforts to raise the act of will as such.

[ 33 ] It follows that what we feel and desire in everyday life—what forms the impulses for us and the inner life of every individual—is interconnected and wells up [from the subconscious] in the course of life between birth and death, and that these are impulses that carry us through life, [that carry us from person to person], and that we experience in dreams or in sleep. But these are also the historical impulses, and it will be a significant insight for the historian of the future when the nature of these forces living within the people is recognized, when it is no longer believed that what occurs in history should be understood in the same way as ordinary life—for it unfolds as in a dream, as in the subconscious, so that it does not come to full and clear consciousness in the human being; one simply does not know it in ordinary life.

[ 34 ] This perspective—which must find its way from research in the humanities into historical analysis—will only then make historical analysis infallible; only then will it be effective and true to reality. For anyone who wishes to study history today does not consider that history cannot be studied in the old way. The discipline of history has only emerged in the past century, during which the foundations of scientific knowledge were established and the method that led the natural sciences to such brilliant results was developed—a method that has advanced humanity so far, even in terms of practical life, — to the point where historical analysis has also been encompassed and has developed according to the model that is customary, correct, and justified in the natural sciences. It is regarded as a kind of ideal natural science, and attempts are made to extend this mode of analysis to history as well. Lamprecht had something like this in mind; he said that history is governed by a mode of thought that is not intended for it, but rather has only now emerged from the natural scientific mode of analysis.

[ 35 ] Whoever possesses this insight that I have developed—whoever has recognized that this insight relates to waking consciousness as waking consciousness relates to the consciousness of sleep—whoever, viewed from this standpoint, observes the course of historical activity and penetrates the course of historical wisdom—to that person it becomes clear that this attitude of our soul is entirely justified in relation to nature, toward the thought through which we acquire knowledge of nature—but that this old way of looking at things is not suitable for assessing the course of human life as history. This, however, also characterizes the entire nineteenth-century perspective on the course of historical events: one does not realize that these impulses are rooted in the unconscious course of life and that they cannot be grasped by ordinary reason. When one considers this, one is led to ask: What must take the place of what exists today?

[ 36 ] Herman Grimm made some very accurate observations on this subject; he understood many things quite correctly with regard to the history of humanity and had a very clear sense of how the spirit of science can reemerge. He believed—and he discussed this subject very thoroughly with me himself—that his ideal would be to view human history in such a way that the impulses present themselves as imagination acting upon the world. It is not actually correct that the impulses present themselves in this way, but nevertheless, Grimm instinctively arrived at a very remarkable insight. He first asks himself: What, for example, is Gibbon’s approach to historical narration? Gibbon wrote the history of the decline of the Roman Empire, and his perspective lends itself to comparison with the contemporary [scientific] method of inquiry [it is the application of scientific knowledge to history]. Gibbon thus describes the decline of the Roman Empire and all the forces that set out to bring about its downfall, yet he fails to correctly grasp what was then an ascending impulse, precisely because he cannot comprehend what ascending impulses are using reason and the scientific method. Thus, he can grasp only that which does not constitute historical life, but only what has arisen after certain historical impulses have already run their course.

[ 37 ] But that is not how history is written; in that way, historical life is transformed into a corpse, for first the underlying impulses must be awakened and discovered. If history is to be understood as something living, then it cannot be grasped through the lens of natural history; yet Gibbon never succeeded in truly grasping such things as the rising forces of Christianity, which, as living forces, permeate the history of that era. That is why we must be clear about how to grasp true historical forces, and we see that we must go back to what lies in the subconscious of human life—what plays into the mind and the will in the way I have described. Consequently, one can never grasp [what is fruitful in history] using ordinary scientific methods—nor, therefore, those forces that lead to a practical way of life, with which one can face life and by which one can judge: “This and that is what life has taught us.”

[ 38 ] Only the contemplative consciousness into which this new mode of knowledge is immersed—that is what we call the only true view of history, one that will no longer say that various new states will be founded, states that, while they may be at odds with one another, can no longer tear each other apart. This is also a prerequisite for history to provide a true foundation for life. It must be so, for only in this way does history flow into our lives; the historical perspective flows into us. We see what truly was through a genuine historical perspective, even if it is initially as flawed as I have described. One can grasp the spirit only in this way—by diving into its depths, by bringing into the bright light that which otherwise remains in the subconscious; otherwise, one achieves nothing with theory, as it is modeled after the natural-historical approach; with theory alone, one does not penetrate into real life.

[ 39 ] One can easily test the validity of this claim; just try it once: Take a pure theorist—a sharp-minded person who is quite capable of reflecting on nature and the course of human knowledge, who is a skilled economist and social theorist—and place him in the midst of real life; this is the surest way to destroy what is good. One could do this with a theorist in social and ethical life, and one will see: such theoretical minds act as destructive forces; they are capable of surveying life, but never of working fruitfully, because their way of viewing things is not based on a proper understanding of history. And Lamprecht’s view of history also confirms this perspective.

[ 40 ] But I would like to illustrate with an example how the type of knowledge referred to here is embedded in real impulses. I know it sounds extraordinarily paradoxical when I say this, but I have said before: What Copernicus set forth in his worldview was also regarded as paradoxical and ridiculous. A worldview intervenes in those impulses that would otherwise remain unconscious. Over the years, I have explored this idea in lectures and argued that it would lead to a fruitful, practical understanding of history. But I simply want to hint at the principle behind it using two examples that are meant to take the discussion a step further and that also touch on everyday life.

[ 41 ] To the observer of history, the historical epoch unfolds—one that, while extending to the middle of the fifteenth century, actually begins as early as the seventh or eighth century B.C. It is remarkable that there is a similarity in the way the human soul develops—how the human soul becomes social through spiritual forces that remain essentially the same—from the seventh century B.C. to the mid-fifteenth century A.D. Only then does a rapid transformation occur; we simply do not notice it today because our attention is not focused on it and because some people adhere to the proverb: “Just as in nature, life takes no leaps.” But that is not true; everywhere, nature—and life as well—takes leaps; we just do not realize how immense they are, and we do not direct our attention to the great turning points of life.

[ 42 ] If one does not delve into the great transformation—if one cannot grasp the transformation that took place in the middle of the fifteenth century—then one fails to see what is most important; one fails to see the difference between these two eras, one of which is the one in which we are fully immersed and which may yet last another hundred years. Human life as a whole, from the seventh and eighth centuries B.C. to the fifteenth century A.D., unfolds in such a way that souls develop differently than in later times. I would say: In that earlier age, human reason developed in a much more instinctive way; it therefore functioned more correctly, as a look back at that time proves, and as evidenced by how everything was shaped back then—for example, Roman law, which is still of great significance today.

[ 43 ] Only when one knows which specific concepts emerged from Roman law—from that peculiar, instinctive intellect—will one also understand that, at that time, the intellect functioned in the soul [just like a sense]. Social structure, too, was highly developed in Roman life, with all its distinctive characteristics, and even during the decline of the Roman Empire, instinctive reason was at work.

[ 44 ] It was not until the middle of the fifteenth century that the intellect, in a different sense, and intellectual consciousness began to function in their own way. This era not only began to embody a new spiritual organization, but also continued to develop it, and thoughts were applied to things with full consciousness.

[ 45 ] We no longer understand the inner impulses behind what happened back then, because we fail to consider how the laws, state institutions, and political structures of that time came into being. One therefore assumes that educated humanity—which is relevant to cultural development—no longer arrived at these institutions through the instinctive workings of the intellect. But it is precisely when we view this picture in this way that the depth from which human activity springs becomes apparent, and when we examine the historical documents to study the human development of the peoples and the laws they created, we can apply this conclusion to ourselves.

[ 46 ] I would like to cite yet another example that spans an even longer period of time. It will certainly seem paradoxical—especially if I were able to provide the relevant details. However, there is not enough time to point out what would emerge from research in the humanities, and I can only briefly summarize the results in general terms. Following the era I have just described—which is still part of contemporary history—there is another era, stretching back many centuries from the seventh and eighth centuries, in which the state of the soul was entirely different; yet, according to research using spiritual scientific methods, this era spans a much longer period than can be documented by our historical records. This brings us to an era different from the one I have just characterized, one that begins with the seventh and eighth centuries B.C. and ends in the middle of the fifteenth century. If one examines the events of this earlier epoch from a spiritual-scientific perspective—as far back as we can trace that time with our gaze and with a perceptive consciousness—one arrives at a period that was, in many respects, highly significant.

[ 47 ] Today, research is conducted in the spirit of the old method of developmental theory with regard to its historical application, which manifests itself in the effort to form an analogy. One views the course of historical development, the progress of humanity [as an organism], comparing what took place in prehistoric times to childhood, and later times to adolescence; and then, when applying this perspective from the past to the present, one is led to say how “wonderfully far” we have come and how we have developed our intellect compared to our ancestors. But all these analogies fall apart in the face of reality when we view it from the perspective of spiritual science. For it becomes apparent that in the earlier stages of human development, people lived their lives in a completely different way than they do today.

[ 48 ] Scientific theory has often led to errors and, above all, has given rise to a certain prejudice regarding the historical development of humanity. And no attention is paid to how the human soul has changed over the course of time, how it has taken on an ever-changing form throughout the centuries. People regard what people possessed in earlier times as if it all had arisen from soul impulses that are always the same, and if one believes this, one does not realize how the human soul has changed—a soul that was connected to human life in a completely different way back then. Today we recognize such a connection only in a person’s youth and childhood; we know how closely the soul is linked to the development of life and how what is called spiritual development often depends on the historical course of life. But this comes to an end for a person at the age of twenty; the close connection—which can be traced through the natural sciences—[between the spiritual-soul aspect and the development of the physical-bodily aspect] ceases, and the spirit begins to develop, and this period then comes to an end at the age of twenty.

[ 49 ] Things were quite different in the earlier times of humanity. There were periods in human history—which I have already spoken of—during which human souls remained spiritually connected to the body, quite unlike today, and it is a finding of spiritual research that human beings remained dependent in life on bodily consciousness to the extent that they could experience bodily processes firsthand; and today we are uncovering certain events in human history from which we must still recognize that certain ideas—which have not been examined in the history of literature but which resonate in some ancient traditions—have retained their original character.

[ 50 ] Then comes the second age, which can be compared to a person’s life up to the age of forty; yet this is already the age that has certainly adopted a certain culture, and we know that people at that time were already dependent on many conditions of life that permeate their existence as ideas. And there we enter the human epoch that begins with the seventh to eighth centuries B.C.; people experience the physical forces up to the age of forty, forces that cause our individuality to begin declining as early as age 35. When this [Greco-Roman] period is [truly not] merely viewed from the outside, [but deeply studied from within], then we find that it is based on the fact that human beings experience life with their consciousness—whether this takes place in the course of history or in individual lives—up to the age of forty, when external circumstances begin to influence spiritual life. Admittedly, we no longer achieve this today; today, our full participation in life extends only up to the age of 27 or 28.

[ 51 ] Thus, when we trace the course of history, history itself shows us—in just a few words, so to speak—that humanity as such is becoming ever younger. But this has profound implications for a proper understanding of human life. Humanity first grew so old that, as peoples, it collectively experienced what occurs in human life up to the age of thirty, and only then did youth begin. Today, throughout its entire existence, humanity leads a much younger existence than in the past, and therein lies the true power that seems incomprehensible, as well as the events of human history that seem designed to elude our understanding—such as Roman law, the Greek worldview, art, and the social life of that era—which correspond to a much greater age.

[ 52 ] However, we find this understandable when we realize that people’s inner experiences were quite different back then and that people today can no longer experience the same things. Today, human beings are compelled to grasp with their souls what life no longer provides them, and since the mid-fifteenth century, the need has arisen for people to use their intellectual consciousness to grasp what life no longer provides and what cannot be found through the soul’s inner impulses. That is why we are only now beginning to understand how we must engage with the reality of soul life in order to grasp these connections.

[ 53 ] I have merely outlined the broad perspectives in general terms; one can, of course, also focus on everyday events and then view individual occurrences in this light. However, the picture of what unfolds around us—and what I have described—also emerges in a most remarkable way. We look toward the Asian East, toward Rabindranath Tagore, at how he conceives of the spirit and how he views the history of the Indian and Japanese peoples. He wants the ancient roots to remain; he does not want the foreign spirit—which differs from the ancient spirit and which emerged after the period ending with the seventh to eighth centuries—to take hold. Although he is a refined man of the East, and although he has absorbed everything the subject itself has to offer, with all its sympathies and impulses, he takes a unique stance in his understanding of tradition.

[ 54 ] If we take a closer look, we must recognize that life today has forged a common bond across the entire Earth, despite the various worldviews that often conflict with one another and even disrupt each other. We also see thinkers like Lamprecht and Grimm grappling with what has been developing as the individual since the fifteenth century and appears to grow more alive with each passing year. These are the driving forces behind our spiritual and moral perspective. The scholar of the spiritual sciences need not invent new concepts; he finds the concepts that are suitable for the age in which we live. Nor does he seek new ideals or fantasies; he seeks only to grasp that in which he can truly immerse himself, and he knows that human coexistence must take shape. But with regard to the East, we say to ourselves: There is something at work there that we must not imitate, for we would misunderstand ourselves if we believed we could replicate it in Central Europe. What occurs in the East and in our regions is entirely different, and one can understand it only if one can grasp it in the manner described. But then one must say: It is as if someone were developing from childhood up to the age of thirty. And only from this perspective can one understand it if one wishes to take these realities into account.

[ 55 ] What we encounter in America, however, is a kind of anticipatory state—as if a child were senile—that is, a state that is quite suitable for later life but not for youth, in which it is an unhealthy condition; and therefore, what operates in accordance with this perspective will be conscious only in his mind, to which life is not actually connected. One can compare Wilson’s restless eye with the calm gaze of Herman Grimm, in which is expressed the tranquility of the soul that emerges from within, moving from experience to experience and connecting everything with its own breath. [When a person is absorbed in their inner world, their gaze does not become calm; then everything they say becomes precise and powerful. What should be developed from the spirit is instead developed from the physical.] We must pay attention to this difference; we must observe it if we wish to understand our spiritual, ethical, and historical actions—especially in these difficult times, in which we shape the historical landscape and create social connections through the immediate experiences of others’ spiritual impressions. We cannot simply adopt what is Asian, nor what is American, even though it must be understood.

[ 56 ] The European peoples could also be characterized, but one must delve beneath the surface; only then can one draw out the historical impulses from those forces that otherwise operate unconsciously. But once one recognizes this, one will also have genuine historical insights that give people the maturity they need for life. And when that maturity is attained, one will no longer regard such conflicts as paradoxical, and one will truly gain from history something that can have an impact in practical life. Placed within life itself, one will say that one has grown to meet the demands of one’s position by being able to view life from its true and full reality, and not merely from the surface.

[ 57 ] It is curious that Goethe, of all people, coined the phrase about the value of history in that it arouses enthusiasm. However, he merely sought to paraphrase the concept, for the concepts of the soul are not derived from history; rather, they are drawn from the depths of the unconscious. But since they are instinctive, they enter the emotional life only to sink back down into feelings and impulses; and from what has been perceived through a true method of historical observation, enthusiasm will be able to arise once more, and only then, through felt enthusiasm and a genuine approach to history, will we truly face life. I know that today, for many, this way of viewing history sounds highly paradoxical, and that most do not agree with the conclusion that proper social thinking and ethical action can arise from such a view, which is based on the historical perspective of the perceiving consciousness. I know that today we are regarded as dreamers whose way of thinking is not yet easily understood.

[ 58 ] But I’d like to ask a question here: How many people, using the concepts of that time, could have imagined before the fourteenth century that our Earth undergoes the kind of motion we know about today? No one who lived back then knew this. We now see many things differently, now that we can grasp the full picture, and in the near future we will be able to grasp even more. This will happen many times in human life, and our understanding will continue to grow. We will have to reckon with the old sympathies and antipathies, and we will see that everything that has befallen humanity will balance itself out again once we understand what humanity truly wants—and that this cannot be tied to the way of thinking we have held until now.

[ 59 ] It is important for people to learn this so that humanity can move forward. People must learn new concepts, ideas, and terms—above all, a new way of thinking that harmonizes with earlier concepts and ideas. The former may already be the only decisive factor for some today, but the latter will be what matters, for it will reach into the future and serve as the foundation for life, and it will lay the groundwork for our future lives. Therefore, I believe that such reflections will give rise to actions, and that some may yet arrive at ideas and feelings that are still considered paradoxical—perhaps even strange—today, but which will later be acknowledged, albeit reluctantly. People will draw the conclusion that, from one day to the next, we must learn anew and adapt to a new way of thinking, feeling, and willing for the future that lies ahead, in order to be able to adapt to this era.