The Rudolf Steiner Archive

First Lecture

[ 1 ] These lectures are intended to provide a general overview of the entire scope of the theosophical worldview. Theosophy has not always been taught as it is today in lectures and books accessible to everyone. In the past, theosophy was regarded as something that could only be taught in small, intimate circles. Knowledge was restricted to circles of initiates and occult brotherhoods; the general public was meant to benefit only from the fruits of this knowledge. Little was known about their knowledge, their deeds, or the places where they worked. The great historical figures known to the world were not, in fact, the greatest. The greatest ones—the initiates—kept a low profile.

[ 2 ] Thus, in the 18th century, such an initiate once approached a writer in a moment that went entirely unnoticed, became briefly acquainted with him, and spoke words that the other did not pay much attention to, but which nevertheless lingered within him and produced powerful mental images, the literary fruits of which are now in countless hands. That other man was Jean-Jacques Rousseau. He was not an initiate, but the source of his knowledge traced back to one.

[ 3 ] Another example: Jakob Böhme was alone in the shop as a shoemaker’s apprentice, where he was not yet allowed to sell anything. Then a figure approached him who made a deep impression on him; the figure spoke a few words and then walked away. Immediately afterward, he heard his name being called: “Jakob, Jakob, you are still small now, but you will grow up.” Remember what you have seen today.—A secret attraction remained between him and that figure, who was a great initiate. It was from him that Böhme’s powerful inspirations originated.

[ 4 ] There were also other means through which an initiate used to work. For example, someone might have received a letter intended to prompt a certain action. He might have been a minister and had the outward power to carry something out, but not the thought behind it. The letter contained something that had nothing to do with what was supposed to be conveyed—perhaps a petition. But the letter could have been read in another way: one simply had to cross out four words at a time and leave the fifth standing; then the remainder formed a new context, which the recipient, of course, did not notice at all, but which conveyed precisely what was to happen. If the words were the right ones, they took effect even without the reader having consciously grasped their meaning. In a similar manner wrote a German scholar who was also an initiate, the teacher of Agrippa von Nettesheim, Trithem von Sponheim. In his works, when read with the correct key, there is much that is taught today in theosophy.

[ 5 ] At that time, it was necessary that only a few—those who were sufficiently prepared—be initiated into these matters. Why was this secrecy necessary? Precisely in order to give this knowledge its proper place, it could only be given to those who were sufficiently prepared; the others experienced only the blessings. After all, this was not knowledge intended to satisfy curiosity or a mere thirst for knowledge. This knowledge was meant to be put into practice; it was meant to influence governmental and social institutions; it was meant to shape the world in a practical way. And so all great advances in human development can be traced back to occult impulses. That is why all those who were to partake in the Theosophical teachings were subjected to severe trials and tests to determine whether they were worthy of them, and then they were initiated step by step, guided very slowly from the bottom up.

[ 6 ] This method has recently been abandoned; the elementary teachings are now taught publicly. This publication was necessary because the earlier means of bringing the fruits to humanity would have failed. Religions were among these means, and this wisdom is contained in all religions; today, however, there is talk of a contrast between knowledge and faith. Today we need to follow the paths of knowledge to attain higher understanding.

[ 7 ] The most fundamental reason for this publication, however, is the invention of the art of printing. Previously, theosophical teachings were transmitted orally, from person to person; no one who was immature or unworthy heard of them. But through books, knowledge of sensory matters has spread, and through them it has become popular. This is also why the conflict between knowledge and faith arose.

[ 8 ] Such causes, however, make it necessary that much of the great treasure of esoteric knowledge from all ages be made public now. Questions such as: Where does humanity come from? What is its purpose? What lies hidden behind the visible form? What happens after death? — had to be answered, not through hypotheses, theories, and conjectures, but through the facts.

[ 9 ] To unveil the true mystery of the human being—that was the very purpose of all esoteric science. Everything that is to be said on this subject is presented from the actual standpoint of practical occultism; it is not meant to be some theory that has no practical application. Such theories arose and found their way into theosophical literature because, in the beginning, the people who wrote the books did not themselves fully understand what they were writing. Such theories may indeed be quite useful for the sake of intellectual curiosity. Theosophy, however, is meant to become a way of life.

[ 10 ] Let us first turn our attention to the nature of the human being. When we encounter a person, we first perceive with our external senses what we call, in theosophical terminology, the physical body. This physical body is something that human beings share with the entire environment. This is the only aspect that external science acknowledges, and yet it is only a small part of the human being. We must delve deeper into the nature of the human being, for even a moment’s reflection shows that there must be something quite special about this physical human being. There are, of course, other things that one can see, touch, and so on; every stone is already a physical body. But human beings can move; they can feel and think; they grow, nourish themselves, and reproduce. None of this is true of a stone, though it is true, to varying degrees, of plants and animals. Human beings share nutrition, growth, and reproduction with all plants. If they had only a physical body like that of a stone, they could not grow, nourish themselves, or reproduce. They must therefore possess something that enables them to utilize physical forces and substances in such a way that they become the means for them to grow and so on. This is the etheric body.

[ 11 ] Thus, human beings share their physical body with all mineral beings, but their etheric body only with plants and animals. This can be established, at first, simply through reason. However, there is another way to convince oneself that an etheric body exists. Only those who have developed their higher senses possess this ability. Such higher senses are nothing other than a higher development of what lies dormant in every human being.

[ 12 ] It is like the case of a person born blind who undergoes surgery; except that not every person born blind can undergo surgery, whereas the spiritual senses can be developed in every human being if they have the necessary patience and undergo the appropriate preparation. Even to perceive this principle of life—of growth, reproduction, and nutrition—requires a very specific, higher form of perception. Using the example of hypnosis, we can clarify what is meant here.

[ 13 ] Hypnotism, which has always been known to the initiated, refers to a state of consciousness different from ordinary sleep. A person under hypnosis is in rapport with the hypnotist. One can now distinguish between positive and negative suggestion as they occur in the hypnotized person. The former causes one to perceive something that is not present. Negative suggestion consists of diverting one’s attention from what is present. This is merely an intensification of another state: In ordinary life, we can also turn our attention away from something so that we do not see it, even though our eyes are open. This happens to us involuntarily every day when we are deeply absorbed in something. Theosophy wants nothing to do with such states in which a person’s state of consciousness is dulled and they find themselves in a twilight state. A person who wishes to arrive at theosophical truths must be just as in control of their senses when investigating the higher worlds as when examining everyday things. The great dangers of initiation can only befall a person if their consciousness is dulled.

[ 14 ] Anyone who wishes to experience the etheric body firsthand must be able, while fully maintaining ordinary consciousness, to use the power of their own will to “suggest away” their physical body. Yet even then, the space around them is not empty; before them they see the etheric body, which appears as a reddish-bluish form of light—like a phantom, but shining, luminous, and somewhat darker than young peach blossoms. We can never see this etheric body when looking at a crystal, but we can see it in plants and animals, for it is this part that brings about nutrition, growth, and reproduction.

[ 15 ] But human beings do not only possess these abilities; they also have the ability to feel pleasure and pain. Plants do not have this ability. The initiate can investigate this through personal experience, because he can identify with the plant. The animal, however, does possess this ability, for it shares another element with humans: the astral body. It encompasses everything we know as desire, passion, and so on. This, too, becomes clear through reflection and inner experience. For the initiate, however, it can become an external experience. The initiate perceives this third aspect of the human being as an egg-shaped cloud in a state of constant inner movement; it is the single cloud that surrounds the body, within which the physical body and the etheric body are contained. It is the case that, when one visualizes the physical body and the etheric body being drawn out, everything is filled with a fine cloud of light possessing inner mobility. In this cloud, in this aura, the initiate sees every desire, every impulse, and so on as the color and form of the astral body; thus, for example, he sees intense passion as lightning-like rays shooting forth from the astral body.

[ 16 ] Animals have an astral body that has different basic colors depending on the species; the astral body of a lion has a different basic color than that of a lamb. And even in humans, the basic color is not always the same, and if one has a sense for finer distinctions, one can recognize a person’s temperament and basic moods in their aura. Nervous people have a striped aura interspersed with dots. These dots are not static; rather, they constantly flare up and then disappear again. This is always the case, which is why it is impossible to paint an aura.

[ 17 ] But human beings also differ from animals. This brings us to the fourth aspect of human nature. This fourth aspect is clearly expressed in a name that differs from all other names: I can only say “I” to myself. There is no name in the entire language that anyone else could not also say about the same object. Not so with “I”; a human being can say this only to himself. Those who were initiated have always sensed this. The Hebrew initiate thus called it the “unpronounceable name of God”—the God who dwells within man—for it can be uttered only in this soul, for this soul. It must resound from the soul; the soul must give itself a name; no one else can give it a name. Hence the wondrous atmosphere that swept through the listeners when the name “Yahweh” was uttered; for Yahweh or Jehovah means “I” or “I am.” In the name that the soul gives itself, God begins to speak within the soul itself.

[ 18 ] This is what sets humans apart from animals. Animals do not possess the ability to say “I” to themselves. Only humans have the ability to give themselves a name. One must truly grasp the immense significance of this word. In his autobiography, Jean Paul recalls how, as a very young boy, he stood in front of a barn and became aware that he was an “I.” He knew that he had experienced the immortal within himself.

[ 19 ] Once again, this manifests itself in a peculiar way to the seer. When he examines the astral body, everything is in constant motion except for a single small space; which remains, like a somewhat elongated, egg-shaped, bluish sphere, slightly behind the forehead, at the root of the nose. It is found only in humans. In educated people, it is not as perceptible as in the uneducated; it is most distinct in uncivilized peoples at the lowest level of culture. In truth, there is nothing at this point—it is an empty space. Just as the center of a flame, which is empty, appears blue because of the halo of light surrounding it, so too does this dark, empty spot appear blue because the auric light radiates all around it. This is the outward expression of the “I.”

[ 20 ] Every human being has these four parts. But there is a difference between a savage and a civilized European, between the latter and a Francis of Assisi or a Schiller. The refinement of morals also produces nobler colors in the aura. Growth in the ability to distinguish between good and evil is also reflected in a more refined aura. In order to become cultured, the “I” has worked on the astral body and refined the desires. The higher a person stands in moral and intellectual culture, the more the “I” has worked into the astral body. The seer can say: This is a developed person; this is an undeveloped person.

[ 21 ] What the human being has worked into the astral body is called Manas; this is the fifth fundamental component. To the extent that a person has worked within themselves, to that extent Manas is present within them; therefore, a part of their astral body is always Manas. But it is not immediately given to a person to exert an influence on their etheric body as well. Just as one learns to reach a higher moral level, so too can one learn to work into one’s etheric body. Whoever learns this is a disciple, a chela. Through this, a person becomes master of their etheric body, and to the extent that they have worked into it, that is the extent to which Budhi is present within them. This is the sixth fundamental part, the transformed etheric body.

[ 22 ] We can recognize such a chela by one thing. The ordinary person does not resemble his or her previous incarnation, neither in form nor in temperament; the Chela, however, has the same habits and the same temperament as in the previous incarnation. He remains true to himself. He has consciously worked these qualities into the body that supports reproduction and growth.

[ 23 ] The highest gift a human being can attain on this earth is to work his way down into his physical body. This is the most difficult thing of all. Working on the physical body means learning to control one’s breath, regulating one’s blood circulation, monitoring nervous activity, and regulating the thought process. In theosophical terminology, one who has reached this stage is called an adept, and such a person has then developed within themselves what is called the Atma. This is the seventh fundamental part.

[ 24 ] Every human being has developed four parts; the fifth is partially developed, while the others are present in potential. Physical body, etheric body, astral body, ego, manas, buddhi, atma—these are the seven members of the human being. Through them, human beings participate in the three worlds: the physical world, the astral world, and the Devachan or spiritual world.