Ancient Myths, Their Meaning and Connection with Evolution
GA 180
11 January 1918, Dornach
Lecture V
It is our aim in these lectures to speak of important questions of mankind's evolution, and you have already seen that all sorts of preparatory facts drawn from distant sources are necessary to our purpose. In order that we may have a foundation as broad as possible, I shall remind you today of various things that have been said from one or another standpoint during my present stay here, but which are essential for a right understanding of the two coming lectures.
I have pointed out to you that in that evolutionary course of mankind which can be regarded as first interesting us after the great Atlantean catastrophe, significant changes took place in humanity. I have already some months ago indicated how changes in humanity as a whole differ from changes taking place in a single individual. The individual as the years go on becomes older. In a certain respect one can say that for humanity as such, the reverse is the case. A man is first child, then grows up and attains the age known to us as the average age of life. In so doing the man's physical forces undergo manifold changes and transformations. Now we have already described in what sense I a reverse path is to be attributed to mankind. During the 2,160 years that followed the great Atlantean catastrophe mankind can be said to have been capable of development in a way quite different from what was possible later. This is that ancient time which followed immediately upon the great flooding of the earth—called in geology the Ice Age, in religious tradition, the Flood—from which there actually proceeded a kind of glacial state.
We know that at our present time we are capable of development up to a certain age independently of our own action; we are capable of development through our nature, our physical forces. We have stated that in the first epoch after the great Atlantean catastrophe man remained capable of development for a much longer time. He remained so into the fifth decade of his life, and he always knew that the process of growing older was connected with a transformation of the soul and spirit nature. If today we wish to have a development of the soul and spirit nature after our twenties, we must seek for this development by our power of will. We become physically different in our twenties and in this becoming different physically there lives at the same time something that determines our progress of soul and spirit. Then the physical ceases to let us be dependent on it; then, so to speak, our physical nature hands over nothing more, and through our own willpower we must make any further advance. This is how it seems, externally considered—we shall see immediately how matters stand inwardly.
There was in fact a great difference in the first 2,160 years after the great Atlantean catastrophe. Then indeed man was still dependent on his physical element far into old age, but he had also the joy of this dependence. He had the joy of not only progressing during his growth, and increasing, but of experiencing, even in the decline of life-forces, the fruit of these declining life-forces as a kind of blooming of soul qualities, which man can feel no longer. Yes, external physical cosmic conditions of human existence alter in relatively not such a very long time.
Then again came a time in which man no more remained capable of development to such a great age, into the fifties. In the second epoch after the great Atlantean catastrophe, which again lasted for approximately 2,160 years, and which we call the Old Persian, man remained still capable of development up to the end of his forties. Then in the next epoch, the Egypto-Chaldean, he could develop up to the time of his forty-second year. We are now living—since the 15th Century—in the period where man carries his development only into his twenties. This is all something of which external history tells us nothing, which moreover is not believed by external historical science, but with which infinitely many secrets of mankind's evolution are connected. So that one can say: Mankind as a whole drew in, became younger and younger—if we call this change in development a becoming-younger! And we have seen what consequence must be drawn from it. This consequence was not so pressing in the Greco-Latin age; a man then remained capable of development up to his thirty-fifth year through his natural forces. It becomes more and more pressing, and from our time onward quite specially significant. For as regards humanity as a whole we are living, so to say, in the twenty-seventh year, are entering the twenty-sixth and so on. So that men are condemned to carry right through life the development they acquired in early youth through natural forces, if they do nothing of their own freewill to take their further development in hand. And the future of mankind will consist in their receding more and more, receding further, so that I, if no spiritual impulse grips mankind, times can come in which only the views and opinions of youth prevail.
This becoming younger of humanity is shown in external symptoms—and one who regards historical development with more sharpened senses can see it—it is shown by the fact that in Greece, let us say, a man had still to be of a definite age before he could take any part in public affairs. Today we see the claim made by great circles of mankind to reduce this age as much as possible, since people think that they already know in the twenties everything that is to be attained. More and more demands will be made in this direction, and unless an insight arises to paralyse them there will be demands that not only in the beginning of his twenties a man is clever enough to take part in any kind of parliamentary business in the world, but the nineteen-year-olds and eighteen-year-olds will believe that they contain in themselves all that a man can compass.
This kind of growing younger is at the same time a challenge to mankind to draw for themselves from the spirit what is no longer given by nature. I called your attention last time to the immense incision in the evolutionary history of mankind which lies in the 15th Century. This is again something of which external history gives no tidings, for external history, as I have often said, is a fable convenue. There must come an entirely new knowledge of the being of man. For only when an entirely new knowledge of man's being is reached, will the impulse really be found which mankind needs if it is to take in hand of its own freewill what nature no longer provides. We dare not believe that, the future of humanity will come through with the thoughts and ideas which the modern age has brought and of which it is so proud. One cannot do enough to make oneself clear how necessary it is to seek for fresh and different impulses for the evolution of humanity. It is of course a triviality to say, as I have often remarked, that our time is a transition age—for in reality each age is a transition. But it is a different thing to know what is changing in a definite age. Every age is assuredly an age of transition, but in each age one should also look about and see what is passing over.
I will link this to a fact—I could take a hundred others—but I will link on to a definite fact and let it serve as an example—one could draw on hundreds from every part of Europe. In the first half of the 19th Century, in 1828 in Vienna, a number of lectures were held by Friedrich Schlegel, one of the two brothers Schlegel, who have deserved so well of Central European culture. Friedrich Schlegel sought in these lectures to show from a lofty historical standpoint what the development of the time required, and how these requirements should be studied if the right direction were to be given to the evolution of the 19th Century and the coming age.
Friedrich Schlegel was influenced at that time by two main historical impressions. On the one hand he looked back at the 18th Century, how it had gradually evolved to atheism, materialism, irreligion. He saw how what had gone on in people's minds during the course of the 18th Century then exploded in the French Revolution. (We wish to make no criticism, merely to bring forward a fact, to consider a human outlook.) Friedrich Schlegel saw a great onesidedness in the French Revolution. To be sure, one might find it today reactionary if such a man as Friedrich Schlegel sees a great onesidedness in the French Revolution, but one would also have to look on such a verdict from other aspects. On the whole it is fairly simple to say to oneself that this or the other was gained for mankind through the French Revolution. It is no doubt very simple; but it is a question whether someone who speaks enthusiastically in this way of the French Revolution is really altogether sincere in his inmost heart. One questions it! There is a crucial test of this sincerity which simply consists in this: one should consider how one would look at such a Movement if it broke out round one at the present day? What would one say to it then? One should really put oneself this question when judging these matters. Only then does one have a kind of crucial test of one's own sincerity, for on the whole it is not so very difficult to be enthusiastic over something that went on so and so many decades ago. The question is whether one could also be enthusiastic if one were directly sharing in it at the present day.
Friedrich Schlegel, as I have said, looked on the Revolution as an explosion of the so-called Enlightenment, the atheistic Enlightenment of the 18th Century. And side by side with this event to which he turned his attention he set another: the appearance of that man who took the place of the Revolution, who contributed so enormously to the later shaping of Europe—Napoleon. Friedrich Schlegel from the lofty standpoint from which he viewed world-history, pointed out that when such a personality enters with such a force into world-evolution he must really be considered from a different standpoint from the one that is generally taken. He makes a very fine observation where he speaks of Napoleon. He says: ‘One should not forget that Napoleon had seven years in which to grow familiar with what he later looked on as his task; for twice seven years the tumult lasted that he carried through Europe, and then for seven years more the life-time lasted that was granted him after his fall. Four times seven years is the career of this man.’ In a very fine way this is pointed out by Friedrich Schlegel.
I have indicated on various occasions what a role is played by this inner law in the case of men who are really representative in the historical evolution of humanity. I have pointed out to you how remarkable it is that Raphael always makes an important painting after a definite number of years. I have pointed out how a flaring-up of Goethe's poetic power always takes place in seven-year periods, whereas between these periods there is a dying down. And one could bring forward many, many such examples. Friedrich Schlegel did not look on Napoleon exactly as an impulse of blessing for European humanity!
Now in these lectures Friedrich Schlegel showed what, in his view, the salvation of Europe demanded after the confusion brought by the Revolution and the Napoleonic age. And he finds that the deeper reason of the disorder lies in the fact that men cannot lift themselves to a more all-embracing standpoint in their world conception, which indeed can only come from an understanding of the spiritual world. Hence, thinks Friedrich Schlegel, instead of a common human world-conception, we have everywhere party-standpoints in which everyone looks on his point of view as something absolute, something which must bring salvation to all. According to Friedrich Schlegel the only salvation of mankind would be for each man to be aware that he takes a certain standpoint and others take others, and an agreement must come about through life itself. No one stand point should gain a footing as the absolute. Now Friedrich Schlegel considers that true Christianity is the one and only thing that can show man how to realize the tolerance that he means—a tolerance not inclining to indifference, but to strong and active life. And therefore he draws the conclusion (I must emphasize it is in 1828) from what he has put before his audience: the whole life of Europe, above all, however, the life of science and life of the State, must be Christianized. And he sees the great evil to be that science has become unchristian, States have become unchristian, and that nowhere has what is meant by the actual Christ-Impulse penetrated in modern times into scientific thought or the life of the State. Now he demands that the Christ-Impulse should once more permeate the scientific and State-life.
Friedrich Schlegel was of course speaking of the science, the political life of his time, 1828. But for certain reasons which will shortly be clearer to us than they are now, one could look at modern science and modern political life as he regarded them in 1828. Try for once to inquire of the sciences which count for the most in public life: physics, chemistry, biology, national-economy, political science too, try to inquire of them whether the Christian impulse is seriously anywhere within them! People do not acknowledge it, but all the sciences are actually atheistic. And the various churches try to get along well with them, as they do not feel strong enough really to permeate science with the principle of Christianity! Hence the cheap and comfortable theory that the religious life makes different demands from those of official science, that science must keep to what can be observed, the religious life to the feelings. Both are to be nicely separate, the one direction is to have no say in the other. One can live together in this way, my dear friends, one can indeed! But it gives rise to the sort of conditions that now exist.
Now what Friedrich Schlegel brought forward at that time was imbued with a deep inner warmth, and his great personal impulse was to serve his age, to demand that religion should not merely be made a Sunday School affair but should be carried into the whole of life, above all the life of science and State. And one can see from the way he spoke at that time in Vienna that he had a hope, a great hope, that out of the disorder produced by the Revolution and Napoleon, a Europe would come forth which would be Christianized in its life of State and Science. The final lecture treated especially of the prevailing spirit of the age and the general revival. And as motto for the lecture, which is truly delivered with great power, he put the Bible text: ‘I come quickly and make all things new.’ And he headed it with this motto because he believed that in the men of the 19th Century, to whom he could speak at that time as young men, there lay the power to receive that which can make all things new.
Anyone who reads through these lectures of Friedrich Schlegel's leaves them with mixed feelings. On the one hand, one says: From what lofty standpoints, from what lucid conceptions men have spoken formerly of science and political life! How one must have longed for such words to kindle a fire in countless souls. And had they kindled this fire what would Europe have become in the course of the 19th Century! I repeat: it is with mixed feelings that one leaves off reading. For in the first place: that is not what came about; what came about are these catastrophic events which now stand so terribly before us. And these catastrophes were preceded by a preparation in which one could have seen exactly that such events had to come. They were preceded by the age of materialistic science—which had become stronger than it was in Friedrich Schlegel's time—preceded by the age of materialistic statesmanship over the whole of Europe. And only with sorrowful feelings can one now behold such a motto: ‘For lo, I come quickly and make all things new.’ Somewhere there must be a mistake. Friedrich Schlegel most certainly spoke from utterly honest conviction. And he was in no slight degree a keen observer of his time; he could judge of the conditions—but yet there must have been something not quite in accord.
For, my dear friends, what did Friedrich Schlegel understand by the Christianizing of Europe? One can admit that he had a feeling for the greatness, the significance of the Christ-Impulse. And hence he also had the feeling that the Christ-Impulse must be grasped in a new way in a new age, that one cannot stop short at the way in which earlier centuries had grasped it. That he knows; a feeling of that is present in him. But, nevertheless, with this feeling he finds support in the already existing Christianity, Christianity as it had developed historically up to his time. He believed that a movement could proceed from Rome of which it could be said ‘I come quickly and make all things new’. He was in fact one of those men of the 19th Century who turned from Protestantism to Catholicism because they believed they could trace more strength in the Catholic life than in the Protestant. But he was a free spirit enough not to become a Catholic zealot.
There is, however, something which Friedrich Schlegel has not said to himself. What he has not told himself is that one of the deepest and most significant truths of Christianity lies in the words: ‘I am with you always even unto the end of the Earth-time.’ Revelation has not ceased; it returns periodically. And whereas Friedrich Schlegel built upon what was already there, he should have seen, have felt, that a real Christianizing of science and the life of the State can only enter if fresh knowledge is drawn out of the spiritual world. This he did not see; he knew nothing of it. And this, my dear friends, shows us, by one of the most significant examples of the 19th Century, that again and again even in the most enlightened minds the illusion crops up that one can link on to something already existing. It is thought that one need not draw something new from the well of rejuvenescence. With these illusions people can no doubt say things and carry out things that are great and brilliant, but it leads to nothing. For Friedrich Schlegel's hope was for a Europe of the 19th Century with its science and political life permeated by Christianity. It must come quickly, he thought, a general renewal of the world, a general re-establishing of the Christ-Impulse. And what came? A materialistic trend in the science of the second half of the 19th Century, compared with which the materialism known by Friedrich Schlegel in 1828 was child's play. And then also came a materializing of political life (one must know history, real history, not the fable convenue which is taught in schools and universities) of which likewise in 1828 he could see nothing around him. Thus he prophesied a Christianizing of Europe and was so bad a prophet that a materializing of Europe came about!
Men live willingly in illusions. And this is connected with the great problem that is now occupying us, the problem that will become clear to us in the coming days: men have forgotten how really to become old, and we must learn again to become old. We must learn in a new way how to become old, and we can only do so through spiritual deepening. But, as I said, this can only become clear in the course of our study. Our time is in general disinclined for it, still disinclined, and it must cease to be disinclined and grow inclined for it.
In any case, my dear friends, the customary thought and feeling of today are not aiming at familiarizing themselves with a certain ease and facility with what, for instance, forms the spiritual challenge of the anthroposophical Spiritual Science. One can see that by various examples: I will bring forward one that lies to hand.
I had a letter the day before yesterday from a man of learning. He writes to me that he has just read a lecture of mine on the task of Spiritual Science,1See: ‘The Mission of Spiritual Science and of its Building at Dornach.’ which I gave two years ago, and that he now sees that this Spiritual Science has, after all, something very fruitful for him. There is a thoroughly warm tone in this letter, a thoroughly amiable, kindly tone. One sees that the man is gripped by what he has read in this lecture on the task of Spiritual Science. He is a trained Natural Scientist, standing in the difficult life of today, and he has seen from this lecture that Spiritual Science is not stupid and not unpractical, but can give an impulse to the time. But now let us look at the reverse side of the matter. The same man five years ago sought to attach himself to this Spiritual Science, to join a group where Spiritual Science was studied, begged moreover at that time to have various conversations with me, and these he had. He took part in group meetings five years ago, and five years ago he so reacted that the whole matter became repugnant to him, and he turned away from it so strongly that in the meantime he has become an enthusiastic panegyrist of Herr Freimark, whom you know from his various writings. Now the same man excuses himself by saying that it would perhaps have been better, instead of doing what he did, to have read something of mine, some books of mine, and made himself acquainted with the subject. But he had not done that, he had judged by what others had imparted to him, and then he had got such a forbidding picture of Spiritual Science that he found it was not at all suited to his own path of development. Now after five years he has read a lecture and has found that this is not the case.
I quote this example—and it could be multiplied—of the way in which people stand to what desires in the only possible way—not in the way of Friedrich Schlegel—a Christianizing of all science—a Christianizing of all public life. I quote it as an example of the habits of thought of today, especially of the science of our time. It is therefore no proof that a man has found something antipathetic to him, if he approaches the Anthroposophical Movement, has various talks, takes part in group meetings, grumbles vigorously about the members of these meetings and what they say to him, concludes that he must now abuse Anthroposophy as a whole, and afterwards becomes an enthusiastic panegyrist of Freimark, who has written the vilest articles on Spiritual Science. After five years the same person decides that he will really read something! So it is no proof at all, if so and so many people today are abusive or agree with the abuse, that deep down they might not have a natural tendency to attach themselves to anthroposophical Spiritual Science. If they have as much good will as the man in question, they need five years, many need ten, many fifteen, many fifty, many so long that they can no longer experience it in this incarnation. You see how little people's behaviour is any kind of proof that they are not seeking what is to be found in anthroposophical Spiritual Science.
I bring this example forward because it points to the profoundly important fact I have often mentioned—namely the lack of stability in going into a matter, the holding fast to old traditional prejudices, which people will not let go! And that again is connected with other things. One only needs to transpose oneself in feeling into those ancient times of which I have spoken to you earlier and today. Think of a young man after the Atlantean catastrophe in his connection with other people. He was, let us say—twenty, twenty-five years old; near him he saw someone of forty, fifty, sixty years. He said to himself: What happiness someday to be as old as that, for as one lives one goes on gaining more and more. There was a perfectly obvious, immense veneration for one who had grown old; a looking up to the aged, linked with the consciousness that they had something else to say about life than the young men. Merely to know this theoretically is of no consequence, what matters is to have it in one's whole feeling, and to grow up under this impression. It is of infinite consequence to grow up in such a way as not merely to look back at one's youth and say: Ah, how fine it was when I was a child! This beauty of life will certainly never be taken from men by any kind of spiritual reflection. But it is a one-sided reflection which was supplemented in ancient times by the other: How beautiful it is to become old! For in the same degree as one became weaker in body, one grew into strength of soul, one grew into union with the wisdom of the world. This was at one time an accepted part of training and education.
Now, my dear friends, let us look at still another truth which, to be sure, I have not expressed in the course of these weeks, but which in the course of years I have already mentioned here and there to our friends: We grow older. But only our physical body grows older. For from the spiritual aspect it is not true that we grow older. It is a maya, an external deception. It is certainly a reality in respect of physical life, but it is not true in respect of the full nature of man's life. Yet, we only have the right to say it is not true, if we know that this human being who lives here in the physical world between birth and death is something else than merely his physical body. He consists of the higher members, in the first place of what we have called the etheric body or the body of formative forces, and then the astral body, the ego—if we only speak of these four. But even if we stop short at the etheric body, at the invisible, super-sensible body of formative forces, we see that we bear it within us between birth and death, just as we carry about our physical body of flesh and blood and bones. We carry in us this etheric body of formative forces, but we see there is a difference: the physical body grows ever older, the etheric or body of formative forces is old when we are born; in fact, if we examine its true nature, it is old then and it becomes ever younger and younger. We can say, therefore, that the first spiritual member in us continually becomes more vigorous and younger, in contrast to the physical-corporeal that becomes weak and powerless. And it is true, literally true, that when our face begins to get wrinkled then our etheric body blooms and becomes chubby-cheeked. Yes but, the materialistic thinker could say this is completely contradicted by the fact that one does not perceive it! In ancient times it was perceived. It is only that modern times are such that people pay no attention to the matter and give it no value. In ancient times nature itself brought it in its course, in modern times it is almost an exception. But even so, there are such exceptions. I remember that I once spoke of a similar subject at the end of the eighties with Eduard von Hartmann, the philosopher of the ‘Unconscious’. We came to speak of two men who were both professors at the Berlin University. One was Zeller, a Schwabian, then seventy-two years old, who had just petitioned for his pensioning off, and who thus had the idea ‘I have got so old that I can no longer hold my lectures.’ He was old and fragile with his seventy-two years. And the other was Michelet; he was ninety-three years old. And Michelet had just been with Eduard von Hartmann and said ‘Well, I don't understand Zeller! When I was as old as Zeller I was just a young fellow, and now, only now, do I feel really fitted to say something to people ... As for me, I shall still lecture for many long years!’ But Michelet had something of what can be called a ‘having-grown-young-in-forces’. There is of course no inner necessity that he had grown so old; for instance, a tile from a roof might have killed him when he was fifty years old or earlier. I am not speaking of such things. But after he had grown so old, in his soul he had in fact not grown old, but precisely young. This Michelet, however, in his whole being, was no materialist. Even the Hegel followers have in many ways become materialistic, although they would not assent to that, but Michelet, although he spoke in difficult sentences, was inwardly gripped by the spirit. Only a few, however, can be so inwardly gripped by the spirit. But this is just what is sought for through anthroposophical spiritual science: to give something that can be something to all men, just as religion must be something to all men, that can speak to all men. But this is connected with our whole training and education.
Our whole educational system is constructed on entirely materialistic impulses—and this must be seen in much deeper connections than is generally indicated. People reckon only with man's physical body, never with his becoming-younger. No account is taken of one's growing younger as one grows older! At first glance it is not always immediately evident. But nevertheless, all that in course of time has become the subject of pedagogy and instruction is actually only able to lay hold of men in their youth, unless they happen to become professors or scientific writers. It is not very often that one finds that someone cares to take up in the same way in later life, when he no longer needs it, the material which is absorbed today during one's schooldays. I have known doctors who were leaders in their special subject, that is to say, who had so passed their student years and youth that they had been able to become intellectual leaders. But there was no question at all of their continuing the same methods of acquiring knowledge in later years. I once knew a very famous man—I will not mention his name, he was so renowned—who stood in the front rank in medical science. He made his assistant attend to the later editions of his books, because he himself no longer took part in science; that did not suit his later years.
This is connected however with something else. We are gradually developing a consciousness that what one can absorb through learning is really only of service for one's youth and that one gets beyond it later on. And this is so. One can still force oneself later to turn back to many things, but then one must really force oneself—it does not come naturally as a rule. And yet, unless a man is always taking in something new—not just by allowing it to enter him through the concert hall, the theatre, or, with all due respect, the newspaper or something of that kind—then he grows old in his soul. We must absorb in another way, we must really have the feeling in the soul that one experiences something new, one is being transformed, and that one reacts to what one takes in just as the child reacts. One cannot do this in an artificial way, it can only happen when something is there which one can approach in later life precisely as one approaches the ordinary educational subjects when one is a child.
But now, take our anthroposophical spiritual science. We need not puzzle our heads over what it will be like in later centuries; for them the right form will be found. But in any case, as it is now—to the dislike however, of many—there is no primary necessity to cease absorbing it. No matter how extremely aged one may have become at the present time, one can always find in it something new that grips the soul, that makes the soul young again. And many new things have already been found on spiritual scientific soil—even such new things as let one look into the most important problems of today. But above all the present needs an impulse which directly seizes upon men themselves. Only in that way can this present time come through the calamity into which it has entered, and which works so catastrophically. The impulses in question must approach men direct.
And now if one is not Friedrich Schlegel but a person having insight into what humanity really needs, one can nevertheless keep to several beautiful thoughts that Friedrich Schlegel had and at least rejoice in them. He has spoken of how things must not be treated as absolute from a definite standpoint. He has, in the first place, only seen the parties which always regard their own principle as the only one to make all mankind happy. But in our time much more is treated as absolute! Above all, it is not perceived that an impulse in life can be harmful by itself, but can be beneficial in co-operation with other impulses, because it then becomes something different. Think of three directions that take their course together—I shall make a sketch.
One direction is to symbolize for us the socialism to which modern mankind is striving—not just the current Lenin socialism. The second line is to symbolize what I have often characterized to you as freedom of thought, and the third direction is Spiritual Science. These three things belong to one another; they must work together in life.

If socialism, in the crude materialistic form in which it appears today, attempts to force itself upon mankind, it will bring the greatest unhappiness upon humanity. It is symbolized for us through the Ahriman at the foot of our Group, in all his forms. If the false freedom of thought, which wants to stop short at every thought and make it valid, seeks to force itself, then harm is again brought to mankind. This is symbolized in our Group through Lucifer. But you can exclude neither Ahriman nor Lucifer from the present day, they must only be balanced through Pneumatology, through Spiritual Science, which is represented by the Representative of mankind who stands in the centre of our Group. It must be repeatedly pointed out that Spiritual Science is not meant to be merely something for people who have cut themselves adrift from ordinary life through some circumstance or other and who want to be stimulated a little through all sorts of things connected with higher matters. Rather is Spiritual Science, anthroposophical Spiritual Science, intended to be something that is connected with the deepest needs of our age. For the nature of our age is such that its forces can only be discovered if one looks into the spiritual. It is connected with the worst evil of our time—that countless men today have no idea that in the social, the moral, the historical life, super-sensible forces are ruling; indeed, just as the air is all around us, so do super-sensible forces hold sway around us. The forces are there, and they demand that we shall receive them consciously, in order to direct them consciously, otherwise they can be led into false paths by the ignorant, or those who have no understanding. In any case the matter must not be made trivial. It must not be thought that one can point to these forces as one often prophesies the future from coffee grounds and so on! But nevertheless in a certain way and sometimes in a very close way the future and the shaping of the future are connected with what can only be recognized if one proceeds from principles of spiritual science.
People will need perhaps longer than five years to see that. But precisely because of these actual events—the signs of the time demand it—there must again and again be emphasized how it is the great demand of our age that people realize the fact that certain things which happen today can only be discovered and, above all, rightly judged, if one proceeds from the standpoint gained through anthroposophical Spiritual Science.
Zwölfter Vortrag
In diesen Betrachtungen wollen wir ja über wichtige Fragen der Menschheitsentwickelung sprechen, und Sie haben bereits gesehen, daß dazu mancherlei weither geholte Vorbereitungen notwendig sind. Heute will ich, damit wir eine möglichst breite Grundlage haben können, Sie an einzelnes erinnern, das im Laufe der Auseinandersetzungen während meines diesmaligen hiesigen Aufenthaltes von diesem oder jenem Gesichtspunkte aus gesagt worden ist, das uns aber notwendig ist, wenn wir morgen und übermorgen die Betrachtung in dem richtigen Lichte sehen wollen.
Ich habe Sie darauf hingewiesen, wie in jenem Entwickelungsgange der Menschheit, den man als den uns zunächst seit der großen atlantischen Katastrophe interessierenden betrachten kann, bedeutungsvolle Veränderungen mit der Menschheit vor sich gegangen sind. Ich habe vor Monaten schon darauf aufmerksam gemacht, wie anders sich die Menschheit im allgemeinen verändert als der einzelne Mensch. Der einzelne Mensch wird, indem die Jahre vorrücken, älter. In einer gewissen Beziehung kann man sagen, bei der Menschheit als solcher ist das Entgegengesetzte der Fall. Der Mensch ist zuerst Kind, wächst dann heran und erreicht eben das Alter, das uns als das durchschnittliche Lebensalter bekannt ist. Dabei ist die Sache so, daß die physischen Kräfte des Menschen einer mannigfaltigen Veränderung und Verwandlung unterliegen. Nun haben wir schon charakterisiert, in welchem Sinne bei der Menschheit ein umgekehrter Gang stattfindet. Man kann sagen, daß die Menschheit in jener alten Zeit, die auf die große atlantische Katastrophe folgte - in der Geologie nennt man es die Eiszeit, in den religiösen Traditionen die Sintflut —, in jener Zeit also, die unmittelbar auf diese große Überflutung der Erde folgte, aus der wirklich eine Art Vereisung hervorging, in den nächsten 2160 Jahren in einer ganz andern Art entwickelungsfähig war als später.
Wir wissen, daß wir in unserer Gegenwart entwickelungsfähig sind bis zu einem gewissen Alter, frei ohne unser Zutun, durch unsere Natur, durch unsere physischen Kräfte entwickelungsfähig sind. In der ersten Zeit nach der großen atlantischen Katastrophe, haben wir gesagt, war der Mensch viel länger entwickelungsfähig. Er blieb entwickelungsfähig bis in die Fünfzigerjahre seines Lebens, so daß er immer wußte: in dieser Zeit, mit dem vorschreitenden Älterwerden ist verbunden auch eine Umwandlung des Seelisch-Geistigen. Wenn wir heute nach unseren Zwanzigerjahren eine Entwickelung des Seelisch-Geistigen haben wollen, dann müssen wir diese Entwickelung durch unsere Willenskraft suchen. Bis in die Zwanzigerjahre hinein werden wir physisch anders; und im Physisch-Anderswerden lebt zugleich etwas, das unser geistig-seelisches Weiterschreiten bestimmt. Dann hört das Physische auf, uns abhängig sein zu lassen von sich; dann gibt sozusagen unser Physisches nichts mehr her, und wir müssen uns eben durch unsere Willenskraft weiterbringen. So erscheint es zunächst äußerlich angesehen. Wir werden gleich nachher sehen, wie die Sache innerlich liegt.
Das war anders in den ersten 2160 Jahren ungefähr nach der großen atlantischen Katastrophe. Da blieb der Mensch von seinem Physischen zwar abhängig bis in sein hohes Alter hinein, aber er hatte auch die Freude dieser Abhängigkeit. Er hatte die Freude, nicht nur während des Wachsens und im Wachstumzunehmen weiterzuschreiten, sondern er hatte die Freude, auch bei abnehmenden Lebenskräften die Früchte dieser abnehmenden Lebenskräfte im Seelischen als eine Art Aufblühen des Seelischen zu erleben, was man jetzt nicht mehr kann. Ja, es ändern sich eben die äußeren, physisch-kosmischen Bedingungen des menschlichen Daseins in verhältnismäßig gar nicht so langer Zeit.
Dann wiederum kam die Zeit, in der der Mensch nicht mehr in ein so hohes Alter, bis in die Fünfzigerjahre hinauf entwickelungsfähig blieb. In dem zweiten Zeitraume nach der großen atlantischen Katastrophe, der wiederum ungefähr 2160 Jahre dauerte, den wir den urpersischen nennen, blieb der Mensch aber immer noch entwickelungsfähig bis in die Höhe der Vierzigerjahre hinauf. Dann, in dem nächsten Zeitraume, in dem ägyptisch-chaldäischen, blieb er entwickelungsfähig bis in die Zeit vom 35. bis 42. Jahre. In der griechisch-lateinischen Zeit blieb der Mensch entwickelungsfähig bis in die Zeit des 35. Jahres hinein. Jetzt leben wir in der Zeit seit dem 15. Jahrhundert, wo der Mensch seine Entwickelung nur bis in die Zwanzigerjahre hineinträgt.
Das alles ist etwas, wovon uns die äußere Geschichte nichts erzählt und was auch von der äußeren Geschichtswissenschaft nicht geglaubt wird, womit aber unendlich viele Geheimnisse der menschheitlichen Entwickelung zusammenhängen. So daß man sagen kann, die gesamte Menschheit rückte herein, wurde immer jünger und jünger — wenn wir dieses Verändern in der Entwickelung ein Jüngerwerden nennen. Und wir haben gesehen, welche Folgerung daraus gezogen werden muß. Diese Folgerung war noch nicht so brennend in der griechisch-lateinischen Zeit; da blieb der Mensch bis zu seinem fünfunddreißigsten Jahre naturgemäß entwickelungsfähig. Diese Folgerung wird immer brennender und brennender und von unserer Zeit ab ganz besonders bedeutungsvoll. Denn mit Bezug auf die ganze Menschheit leben wir sozusagen jetzt im siebenundzwanzigsten Jahre, gehen in das sechsundzwanzigste, und so weiter; so daß die Menschen darauf angewiesen sind, durch das ganze Leben hindurchzutragen dasjenige, was ihnen in ihrer frühen Jugend durch die naturgemäße Entwickelung wird, wenn sie nichts dazutun, aus freiem Willen heraus die Weiterentwickelung von sich selbst in die Hand zu nehmen. Und die Zukunft der Menschheit wird darinnen bestehen, daß sie immer mehr zurückgeht, immer weiter zurückgeht, so daß, wenn nicht ein spiritueller Impuls die Menschheit ergreift, Zeiten kommen könnten, in denen nur Jugendansichten herrschen.
In äußeren Symptomen prägt sich ja dieses Jüngerwerden der Menschheit dadurch aus — und derjenige, der mit einigem klügeren Sinnen die geschichtliche Entwickelung betrachtet, kann das auch äußerlich sehen -,'es prägt sich dadurch aus, daß, sagen wir, noch in Griechenland man ein bestimmtes Alter haben mußte, wenn man an den öffentlichen Angelegenheiten irgendwie teilnehmen sollte. Heute sehen wir die Forderung gestellt von großen Kreisen der Menschheit, dieses Alter so weit wie möglich hereinzurücken, weil die Menschen denken, daß sie schon alles, was der Mensch erreichen kann, in den Zwanzigerjahren wissen. Und es werden Forderungen kommen, immer weiter und weitergehend nach dieser Richtung, wenn nicht die Einsicht diese Forderungen paralysiert: nicht nur etwa den Menschen vom Beginn der Zwanzigerjahre ab so gescheit sein zu lassen, daß er an allein Parlamentarischen, irgendwie gearteten Parlamentarischen der Welt teilnehmen kann, sondern die Neunzehn-, Achtzehnjährigen werden glauben, daß sie alles dasjenige, was der Mensch umfassen kann, eben in sich tragen.
Diese Art des Jüngerwerdens der Menschen ist zugleich eine Aufforderung an die Menschheit, dasjenige, was die Natur dem Menschen nicht mehr gibt, aus dem Geistigen sich herzuholen. Ich habe Sie das letzte Mal darauf aufmerksam gemacht, welch ungeheurer Einschnitt in der Entwickelungsgeschichte der Menschheit im 15. Jahrhundert liegt, wiederum etwas, wovon die äußere Geschichte keine Kunde gibt, denn diese äußere Geschichte ist, wie ich schon oft gesagt habe, eine fable convenue. Kommen muß eine ganz neue Erkenntnis der menschlichen Wesenheit, denn nur, wenn eine ganz neue Erkenntnis der menschlichen Wesenheit kommt, läßt sich der Impuls, den die Menschheit braucht, um das aus freiem Willen in die Hand zu nehmen, was die Natur nicht mehr hergibt, dann wirklich finden. Wir dürfen nicht glauben, daß die Zukunft der Menschheit auskommen werde mit denjenigen Gedanken und Ideen, welche die neuere Zeit gebracht hat, und auf welche diese neuere Zeit so stolz ist. Man kann nicht genug tun, um sich klarzumachen, wie notwendig es ist, neue, neuartige Impulse für die Entwickelung der Menschheit zu suchen. Gewiß ist es eine Trivialität, wie ich oftmals gesagt habe, zu sagen, unsere Zeit sei ein Übergangszeitalter, denn das ist wirklich jede Zeit. Aber etwas anderes ist es, zu wissen, was übergeht in einer bestimmten Zeit. Gewiß ist. jede Zeit eine Übergangszeit; aber in jeder Zeit sollte man auch sich umsehen nach dem, was im Übergange begriffen ist.
Ich will anknüpfen an eine Tatsache. Ich könnte an hundert andere anknüpfen, aber ich will an eine bestimmte Tatsache anknüpfen, die nur als Beispiel dienen soll für vieles. Wie gesagt, aus allen Orten Europas, in hundertfacher Weise könnte man an ähnliche Dinge anknüpfen. Es war noch in der ersten Hälfte des 19. Jahrhunderts, da hielt Friedrich Schlegel, der eine der beiden um die mitteleuropäische Kultur so hochverdienten Gebrüder Schlegel, eine Anzahl von Vorlesungen in Wien, 1828. In diesen Vorlesungen versuchte Friedrich Schlegel von einem hohen geschichtlichen Standpunkte aus den Menschen zu sagen, welche Bedürfnisse in der Zeitentwickelung liegen, wohin man die Augen richten solle, um das Rechte zu treffen für die Entwickelung des 19. Jahrhunderts und der kommenden Zeit.
Friedrich Schlegel stand dazumal unter zwei hauptsächlichsten geschichtlichen Eindrücken. Auf der einen Seite blickte er hin auf das 18. Jahrhundert, wie es sich entwickelt hat allmählich zum Atheismus, zum Materialismus, zur Irreligiosität. Und Friedrich Schlegel - wir wollen keine Kritik üben, sondern nur eine Tatsache vorführen, eine menschliche Anschauung in Betracht ziehen -, Friedrich Schlegel sah, wie dasjenige, was in den Köpfen sich im Laufe des 18. Jahrhunderts abgespielt hat, dann explodiert ist in der Französischen Revolution. Er sah in dieser Französischen Revolution eine große Einseitigkeit. Gewiß, man kann es heute reaktionär finden, wenn solch ein Mensch wie Friedrich Schlegel in der Französischen Revolution eine große Einseitigkeit sieht, aber solch ein Urteil müßte man doch auch noch unter andern Gesichtspunkten anschauen. Es ist im allgemeinen ziemlich einfach, sich zu sagen, das und jenes sei für die Menschheit errungen worden durch die Französische Revolution. Gewiß ist das recht einfach; aber es fragt sich, ob jeder, der mit Enthusiasmus in dieser Weise von der Französischen Revolution spricht, wirklich in seinem allerinnersten Herzen auch ganz aufrichtig ist. Es gibt, ich möchte sagen, eine Kreuzprobe auf diese Aufrichtigkeit, und diese Kreuzprobe besteht lediglich darinnen, daß man sich überlegen sollte: Wie würde man solch eine Bewegung, wenn sie um einen herum ausbräche in der Gegenwart, selber ansehen? Was würde man dann dazu sagen? Diese Frage sollte man sich eigentlich immer vorlegen, wenn man sich diese Sachen ansieht. Dann erst bekommt man eine Art von Kreuzprobe für seine eigene Aufrichtigkeit. Denn es ist im allgemeinen nicht gerade schwierig, begeistert zu sein über dasjenige, was vor so und so viel Jahrzehnten sich zugetragen hat. Es fragt sich, ob man auch begeistert sein könnte, wenn man unmittelbar in der Gegenwart daran beteiligt wäre.
Friedrich Schlegel, wie gesagt, betrachtete die Revolution als eine Explosion der sogenannten Aufklärung, der atheistischen Aufklärung des 18. Jahrhunderts. Und neben dieses Ereignis, auf das er seine Blicke richtet, stellte er hin ein anderes: das Auftreten desjenigen Menschen, der die Revolution abgelöst hat, der so ungeheuer viel beigetragen hat zu der späteren Gestaltung von Europa: Napoleon. Und Friedrich Schlegel - wie gesagt, er betrachtete die Weltgeschichte von einem hohen Gesichtspunkte aus -, Friedrich Schlegel macht aufmerksam bei dieser Gelegenheit, daß eine solche Persönlichkeit, wenn sie eintritt mit einer solchen Kraft in die Weltentwickelung, wirklich auch von einem andern Gesichtspunkte aus noch betrachtet werden muß als von dem, den man gewöhnlich anlegt. Friedrich Schlegel macht eine sehr schöne Bemerkung da, wo er über Napoleon spricht. Er sagt, man solle nicht vergessen: Sieben Jahre habe Napoleon Zeit gehabt, sich hineinzuleben in dasjenige, was er dann später als seine Aufgabe betrachtete; zweimal sieben Jahre dauerte der Tumult, den er durch Europa trug, und einmal sieben Jahre dauerte dann noch die Lebenszeit, die ihm nach seinem Sturze gegönnt war. Viermal sieben Jahre ist die Laufbahn dieses Menschen. Darauf macht Friedrich Schlegel in sehr schöner Weise aufmerksam.
Ich habe Sie bei den verschiedensten Gelegenheiten darauf hingewiesen, welche Rolle solche innere Gesetzmäßigkeit bei Menschen spielt, die wirklich repräsentativ sind in der Entwickelungsgeschichte der Menschheit. Ich habe Sie darauf hingewiesen, wie merkwürdig es ist, daß Raffael immer nach einer bestimmten Anzahl von Jahren eine bedeutende malerische Leistung macht; ich habe Sie darauf hingewiesen, wie bei Goethe in siebenjährigen Perioden immer ein Aufflackern der Dichterkraft stattfindet, während in der Zwischenzeit, zwischen den siebenjährigen Terminen, ein Abflauen stattfindet. Und so könnte man viele, viele Beispiele anführen für diese Dinge. Friedrich Schlegel betrachtete Napoleon auch nicht gerade als einen Segensimpuls für die europäische Menschheit.
Nun macht Friedrich Schlegel in diesen Vorträgen darauf aufmerksam, worinnen nach seiner Ansicht das Heil Europas bestehen müsse, nachdem die Verwirrung durch die Revolution, die Verwirrung durch das napoleonische Zeitalter gekommen ist. Und Friedrich Schlegel findet, daß der tiefere Grund zu der Verwirrung darinnen besteht, daß die Menschen nicht in der Lage sind, sich zu erheben mit ihrer Weltanschauung zu einem umfassenderen Standpunkte, der ja nur aus einem Einleben in die geistige Welt kommen kann. Dadurch, meint Friedrich Schlegel, ist das gekommen, was an die Stelle einer allgemein menschlichen Weltanschauung überall Parteigesichtspunkte stellt, Parteigesichtspunkte, die darinnen bestehen, daß jemand dasjenige, was sich ihm auf seinem Standpunkte des Lebens ergibt, als etwas Absolutes betrachtet, als dasjenige, was allen Heil bringen muß; während nach Anschauung Friedrich Schlegels das einzige Heil der Menschheit darinnen besteht, daß man sich dessen bewußt ist: man steht auf einem gewissen Standpunkt, und andere stehen auf einem andern Standpunkte, und es muß sich ein Ausgleich der Standpunkte durch das Leben finden. Nicht die Verabsolutierung eines Standpunktes darf Platz greifen.
Nun findet Friedrich Schlegel, daß das einzige, welches den Menschen anweisen kann, wirklich diese nicht zum Indifferentismus hinneigende, sondern zum kraftvollen Lebenswirken hinneigende Toleranz, die er meint, zu verwirklichen, einzig und allein das wahre Christentum ist. Deshalb zieht Friedrich Schlegel - 1828, ich muß das immer betonen — aus den Betrachtungen, die er vor seine Zuhörer hingestellt hat, den Schluß, daß alles Leben Europas, vor allem aber das Leben der Wissenschaft und das Leben der Staaten, durchchristet werden müsse. Und darinnen sieht er das große Unheil, daß die Wissenschaft unchristlich geworden ist, daß die Staaten unchristlich geworden sind, daß nirgends dasjenige, was den eigentlichen ChristusImpuls bedeutet, eingedrungen ist in der neueren Zeit in die wissenschaftlichen Betrachtungen und eingedrungen ist in das Leben der Staaten. Nun fordert er, daß wiederum der christliche Impuls in das Wissenschafts- und in das Staatsleben eindringe.
Friedrich Schlegel sprach natürlich über die Wissenschaftlichkeit und über das Staatsleben seiner Zeit, also des Jahres 1828. Aber man kann schon aus gewissen Gründen, die uns gleich nachher besser einleuchten werden als eben jetzt, auch die heutige Wissenschaft und das heutige Staatsleben so betrachten, wie Friedrich Schlegel sie 1828 betrachtet hat. Versuchen Sie heute einmal Anfragen zu stellen bei den Wissenschaften, die ja vorzugsweise heute im öffentlichen Leben Geltung haben, bei der Physik, der Chemie, der Biologie, der Nationalökonomie, auch bei der Staatswissenschaft, versuchen Sie bei ihnen anzufragen, ob irgendwo im Ernste der christliche Impuls drinnen ist. Man gesteht es nicht, aber in Wahrheit sind die Wissenschaften alle atheistisch; und die verschiedenen Kirchen versuchen, mit diesen atheistischen Wissenschaften ein gutes Auskommen zu haben, weil sie ja doch sich nicht stark genug fühlen, die Wissenschaft wirklich mit dem Prinzip des Christentums zu durchdringen. Daher die bequeme, billige Theorie, daß das religiöse Leben eben anderes erfordere als die äußere Wissenschaft, daß die äußere Wissenschaft sich halten müsse an das, was man beobachten kann, das religiöse Leben an das Gefühl. Beide sollen hübsch getrennt sein; die eine Richtung soll nicht in die andere hineinsprechen. Auf diese Weise kann man ja miteinander leben, das kann man schon, aber man führt solche Zustände herbei, wie es die gegenwärtigen sind.
Nun war, was Friedrich Schlegel dazumal vorgebracht hat, von tiefer, innerer Wärme durchdrungen, durchdrungen wirklich von dem großen Persönlichkeitsimpuls bei ihm, seiner Zeit zu dienen, aufzufordern, die Religion nicht bloß zu einer Sonntagsschule zu machen, sondern sie hineinzutragen in alles Leben, vor allem in das Wissenschafts- und in das Staatsleben. Und man kann sehen aus der Art und Weise, wie Friedrich Schlegel dazumal in Wien gesprochen hat, daß er Hoffnung hatte, große Hoffnung hatte darauf, daß aus dem Wirrwarr, den die Revolution und Napoleon angerichtet haben, ein Europa hervorgehen werde, welches durchchristet sein werde in seinem Wissenschafts- und in seinem Staatsleben. Die letzte von diesen Vorlesungen handelt insbesondere von dem herrschenden Zeitgeiste und von der allgemeinen Wiederherstellung. Als Motto setzte Friedrich Schlegel über diese Vorlesung, die wirklich getragen ist von großem Geiste, die Bibelworte: «Ich komme bald und mache alles neu», und er setzte dieses Motto darüber aus dem Grunde, weil er glaubte, es liege wirklich in den Menschen des 19. Jahrhunderts, es liege in den Menschen, die er dazumal als die jungen Menschen ansprechen konnte, die Kraft, zu empfangen dasjenige, was alles neu machen kann.
Wer diese Vorträge Friedrich Schlegels durchliest, der verläßt das Lesen mit gemischten Gefühlen. Auf der einen Seite sagt man sich: Von welch hohen Gesichtspunkten, von welch lichtvollen Anschauungen aus haben einmal Menschen über Wissenschaftlichkeit und Staatsleben gesprochen! Wie hätte man wünschen müssen, daß solche Worte gezündet hätten in zahlreichen Seelen. Und hätten sie gezündet, was wäre aus Europa im Laufe des 19. Jahrhunderts geworden. - Ich sage, mit gemischten Gefühlen verläßt man das Lesen. Denn erstens: Es ist ja nicht so geworden, es ist zu jenen katastrophalen Ereignissen gekommen, die jetzt in so furchtbarer Weise vor uns stehen, und es ist diesen katastrophalen Ereignissen vorangegangen jene Vorbereitung, in der man genau hat sehen können, daß diese katastrophalen Ereignisse kommen müssen; es ist ihnen vorangegangen das Zeitalter der materialistischen Wissenschaftlichkeit die noch stärker wurde, als sie zu Friedrich Schlegels Zeiten war -, vorangegangen das Zeitalter der materialistischen Staatskunst über ganz Europa. Und nur mit wehmütigen Gefühlen kann man auf ein solches Motto jetzt sehen: «Denn siehe, ich komme bald und mache alles neu.»
Es muß irgendwo ein Irrtum vorliegen. Friedrich Schlegel hat ganz gewiß aus ehrlichster Überzeugung heraus gesprochen, und er war in gar nicht geringem Maße ein scharfer Beobachter seiner Zeit. Er konnte schon die Verhältnisse beurteilen, aber etwas mußte doch nicht ganz stimmen. Ja, was versteht denn Friedrich Schlegel unter der Verchristung von Europa? Man kann sagen, ein Gefühl ist in ihm für die Größe, für die Bedeutung des Christus-Impulses. Und auch dafür ist ein Gefühl in ihm, daß der Christus-Impuls in einer neuen Zeit in einer neuen Weise ergriffen werden muß, daß man nicht stehenbleiben kann bei der Art und Weise, wie frühere Jahrhunderte den Christus-Impuls ergriffen haben. Das weiß er, davon ist ein Gefühl in ihm vorhanden. Aber er lehnt sich mit diesem Gefühl doch wieder an das schon bestehende Christentum an, das Christentum, wie es sich geschichtlich bis zu seiner Zeit entwickelt hat. Er glaubte, daß von Rom ausgehen kann eine Bewegung, von der man sagen kann: «Ich komme bald und mache alles neu. » Er ist ja auch unter denjenigen Menschen des 19. Jahrhunderts gewesen, die sich vom Protestantismus zum Katholizismus gewendet haben, weil sie glaubten, in dem katholischen Leben mehr Kraft zu verspüren als in dem protestantischen Leben. Aber er war freier Geist genug, um nicht katholischer Zelote zu werden.
Aber etwas hat sich Friedrich Schlegel nicht gesagt. Was er sich nicht gesagt hat, das ist dies, daß eine der tiefsten und bedeutungsvollsten Wahrheiten des Christentums jene ist, die in den Worten liegt: «Ich bin bei euch alle Tage bis ans Ende der Erdenzeit.» Die Offenbarung hat nicht aufgehört, sondern sie kommt periodenweise wieder. Und während Friedrich Schlegel auf dasjenige baute, was schon da war, hätte er sehen müssen, fühlen müssen, daß eine wirkliche Durchchristung von Wissenschaft und Staatsleben nur eintreten kann dann, wenn neuerdings aus der geistigen Welt Erkenntnisse herausgeholt werden. Das hat er nicht gesehen; davon weiß er nichts. Und das zeigt uns an einem der bedeutsamsten Beispiele des 19. Jahrhunderts, daß immer wieder und wiederum selbst bei erleuchtetsten Geistern die Illusion auftaucht, man könne an etwas Bestehendes jetzt noch anknüpfen, man brauche nicht aus dem Jungbrunnen eines Neuen heraus zu schöpfen, und daß sie unter diesen Illusionen zwar Großes, Geniales sprechen und leisten können, daß aber doch dieses Geniale zu nichts führt. Denn Friedrich Schlegels Hoffnung war ein nach Wissenschaft und Staatsleben durchchristetes Europa im 19. Jahrhundert. Bald müsse es kommen, meinte er, eine allgemeine Erneuerung der Welt, eine allgemeine Wiederherstellung des Christus-Impulses. Und was kam? Eine materialistische Richtung in der Wissenschaft in der zweiten Hälfte des 19. Jahrhunderts, gegen welche dasjenige, was Friedrich Schlegel 1828 erlebt hatte, wahrhaftig an Materialismus ein Kinderspiel war. Und eine Vermaterialisierung des Staatslebens man muß nur die Geschichte kennen, die wirkliche Geschichte, nicht jene fable convenue, welche in den Schulen und Universitäten gelehrt wird —, eine Vermaterialisierung des Staatslebens, von der ebenfalls Friedrich Schlegel 1828 um sich herum noch nichts sehen konnte. Er hat also vorausgesagt eine Durchchristung Europas und war ein so schlechter Prophet, da eine Vermaterialisierung Europas gekommen ist.
Die Menschen leben eben gern in Illusionen. Und das hängt zusammen mit dem großen Problem, das uns jetzt beschäftigt, und das ich schon wiederholt genannt habe, das uns in diesen Tagen ganz klar werden wird, es hängt zusammen mit dem großen Problem: die Menschen haben verlernt, wirklich alt zu werden, und lernen müssen wir wiederum, alt zu werden. In einer neuen Weise müssen wir lernen, alt zu werden, und das können wir nur durch spirituelle Vertiefung. Aber wie gesagt, das kann uns nur im Laufe der Betrachtung ganz klar werden. Die Zeit ist im allgemeinen dem abgeneigt, noch abgeneigt, und sie muß zugeneigt werden, sie muß aus der Abneigung herauskommen.
Allerdings sind die Denk- und Empfindungsgewohnheiten der Zeit nicht darauf aus, sich mit einer gewissen Leichtigkeit, mit einer gewissen Fazilität in dasjenige hineinzuleben, was zum Beispiel die spirituelle Forderung der anthroposophisch orientierten Geisteswissenschaft ist. Man kann das an Beispielen sehr gut sehen. Ein naheliegendes Beispiel will ich anführen.
Vorgestern erst bekam ich einen Brief eines Mannes, der der Gelehrsamkeit angehört. Er schreibt mir, er habe jetzt einen Vortrag über die Aufgabe der Geisteswissenschaft gelesen, den ich vor zwei Jahren gehalten habe, und habe gesehen, nachdem er diesen Vortrag gelesen habe, daß diese Geisteswissenschaft doch etwas für ihn sehr Fruchtbares enthalte. Es ist ein recht warmer Ton in diesem Brief, ein recht liebenswürdiger, netter, lieber Ton. Man sieht, der Mann ist ergriffen von dem, was er in diesem Vortrage über die Aufgabe der Geisteswissenschaft gelesen hat. Er ist ein naturwissenschaftlich durchgebildeter Mensch, der im Leben, auch im schweren Leben der Gegenwart steht, der also einmal gesehen hat an diesem Vortrage, daß Geisteswissenschaft nichts Dummes und nichts Unpraktisches ist, sondern Impulse für die Zeit geben kann. Aber nun betrachten wir die Kehrseite der Sache: Derselbe Mann hat vor fünf Jahren den Anschluß gesucht an diese Geisteswissenschaft, suchte den Anschluß an einen Zweig, worin diese Geisteswissenschaft getrieben wurde, hatte dazumal auch gebeten, verschiedene Unterredungen mit mir zu haben, hatte sie auch, hatte teilgenommen an Zweigversammlungen vor fünf Jahren, und hat vor fünf Jahren so reagiert auf die Sache, daß sie ihm widerlich war, daß er sie abgelehnt hat, so stark abgelehnt, daß er in der Zwischenzeit ein enthusiastischer Lobredner des Herrn Freimark geworden ist, den Sie ja kennen aus seinen verschiedenen Schriften. Jetzt entschuldigt sich derselbe Mann damit, daß er sagt, es wäre vielleicht besser gewesen, statt dem, was er getan hat, dazumal schon etwas von mir zu lesen, irgendwelche Bücher zu lesen und sich mit der Sache bekanntzumachen; aber er habe das nicht getan, sondern er habe geurteilt nach dem, was ihm andere mitgeteilt haben, und da habe er ein so abschreckendes Bild bekommen von der Geisteswissenschaft, daß er sie recht wenig geeignet für seinen eigenen Entwickelungsweg gefunden hat. Jetzt, nach fünf Jahren, hat er einen Vortrag gelesen und hat gefunden, daß die Sache nicht so ist.
Ich führe dieses Beispiel nur an, man könnte wiederum dieses Beispiel vermannigfachen, für die Art und Weise, wie man sich zu der Sache stellt, die da will - nun nicht in der Friedrich Schlegelschen Weise, sondern in der einzig möglichen Weise - eine Durchchristung aller Wissenschaftlichkeit, eine Durchchristung alles öffentlichen Lebens. Ich führe das als ein Beispiel an für die Denkgewohnheiten der heutigen Zeit, insbesondere der Wissenschaften in unserer Zeit. Es ist also gar kein Beweis dafür, daß jemand, wenn er herankommt an die anthroposophische Bewegung — mehrere Unterredungen hat, an Zweigversammlungen teilnimmt, über die Mitglieder dieser Versammlungen und das, was sie ihm sagen, weidlich schimpft, daraus seine Schlüsse zieht, nun auch über die ganze Anthroposophie schimpfen zu müssen, nachher ein begeisterter Lobredner des Freimark wird, der die schmutzigsten Schriften geschrieben hat über die anthroposophisch orientierte Geisteswissenschaft -, daß dieser etwas ihm Antipathisches darin gefunden habe. Nach fünf Jahren entschließt sich nun dieselbe Persönlichkeit noch, einmal wirklich etwas zu lesen.
Es ist also gar kein Beweis, wenn so und so viele Leute heute das Schmählichste sagen oder dem Schmählichsten zustimmen, daß sie nicht die allertiefsten Anlagen haben könnten, der anthroposophischen Geisteswissenschaft sich anzuschließen. Sie brauchen, wenn sie so gutwillig sind wie der Betreffende, fünf Jahre; mancher braucht zehn, mancher fünfzehn, mancher fünfzig Jahre, mancher so lange, daß er es in dieser Inkarnation gar nicht mehr erleben kann. Sie sehen, wie wenig das Verhalten der Menschen irgendein Beweis dafür ist, daß die Menschen nicht suchen dasjenige, was in der anthroposophisch orientierten Geisteswissenschaft zu finden ist.
Ich führe dieses Beispiel an aus dem Grunde, weil es gerade auf das Wesentliche und Wichtige hinweist, das ich öfter erwähnt habe: auf den Mangel an Fazilität im Eingehen auf die Sache, in dem Stecken in althergebrachten Vorurteilen, deren man nicht sich entschlagen will. Und das wiederum hängt mit andern Dingen zusammen. Man braucht nur sich gefühlsmäßig in jene alten Zeiten zurückzuversetzen, von denen ich Ihnen früher und heute gesprochen habe. Denken Sie sich einen jungen Menschen nach der atlantischen Katastrophe in seinem sozialen Zusammenhange drinnen. Er war, sagen wir, zwanzig, fünfundzwanzig Jahre alt, er sah neben sich Vierzig-, Fünfzigjährige, Sechzigjährige. Er sagte sich: Welches Glück, einmal auch so alt sein zu können, denn es lebt sich einem so und so viel zu! - Es war eine ganz selbstverständliche, ungeheure Verehrung für das Altgewordene, ein Hinaufschauen zu dem Altgewordenen, verbunden mit dem Bewußtsein, daß das Altgewordene über das Leben etwas anderes zu sagen hat als das Jungdachsige. Das bloß theoretisch zu wissen, das macht es nicht aus, sondern das in seinem ganzen Gefühl zu haben und unter diesem Eindrucke heranzuwachsen, das macht es aus. Unendliches macht es aus, heranzuwachsen nicht nur so, daß man sich zurückerinnert an seine Jugend und sich sagt: Ach, wie schön war es, als ich Kind war! - Gewiß, diese Schönheit des Lebens wird niemals irgendeine geistige Betrachtung dem Menschen nehmen. Aber es ist eine einseitige Betrachtung, die ergänzt wurde in alten Zeiten durch die andere: Wie herrlich ist es, alt zu werden! - Denn man wächst hinein in demselben Maße, in dem man körperlich schwächer wird, in seelische Stärke; man wächst mit der Weisheit der Welt zusammen. Das war eine Formel, die der Mensch durch seine Erziehung einmal aufgenommen hat.
Nun betrachten wir zu diesem hinzu eine andere Wahrheit, die ich zwar im Laufe dieser Wochen nicht ausgesprochen habe, aber die ich im Laufe der Jahre da und dort auch schon unseren Freunden wiederholt mitgeteilt habe: Wir werden älter, aber nur unser physischer Leib wird älter. Denn vom geistigen Gesichtspunkte aus ist es nicht wahr, daß wir älter werden. Es ist eine Maja, es ist eine äußere Täuschung. Es ist zwar eine Wirklichkeit in bezug auf das physische Leben, aber es ist nicht wahr in bezug auf den ganzen Lebenszusammenhang des Menschen. Man hat freilich erst ein Recht zu sagen: Es ist nicht wahr -, wenn man weiß: Dieser Mensch, der da in der physischen Welt zwischen Geburt und Tod lebt, der ist noch etwas ganz anderes als sein physischer Leib; der besteht aus den höheren Gliedern; zunächst aus dem, was wir den Ätherleib oder Bildekräfteleib genannt haben, und dann dem astralischen Leib, dem Ich, wenn wir nur diese vier Teile bezeichnen.
Aber schon, wenn wir stehenbleiben beim Ätherleib, beim unsichtbaren, übersinnlichen Ätherleib oder Bildekräfteleib, schen wir: wir tragen ihn in uns zwischen Geburt und Tod gerade so, wie wir unsern physischen Leib aus Fleisch und Blut und Knochen an uns tragen; so tragen wir diesen Bildekräfteleib, diesen Ätherleib in uns, aber es ist ein Unterschied zwischen beiden. Der physische Leib wird immer älter. Der ätherische oder Bildekräfteleib, der ist alt, wenn wir geboren werden, er ist nämlich, wenn wir seiner wahren Natur nachforschen, da alt und er wird immer jünger und jünger. So daß wir sagen können, das erste Geistige in uns wird - im Gegensatze zu dem Physisch-Leiblichen, das schwach und unkräftig wird — immer kräftiger, immer jünger. Und wahr, wörtlich wahr ist es: Wenn wir anfangen, Runzeln im Gesicht zu kriegen, dann blüht unser Ätherleib auf und wird pausbackig.
Ja, aber dem widerspricht ja - könnte der materialistisch denkende Mensch sagen -, dem widerspricht es ganz und gar, daß man das nicht spürt! - In alten Zeiten wurde es gespürt. Die neueren Zeiten nur sind so, daß der Mensch die Sache nicht berücksichtigt, ihr keinen Wert beilegt. In alten Zeiten brachte es die Natur selber mit sich, in neueren Zeiten ist es fast eine Ausnahme. Aber solche Ausnahmen gibt es ja auch. Ich weiß, daß ich einmal ein ähnliches Thema mit Eduard von Hartmann, dem Philosophen des «Unbewußten », Ende der achtziger Jahre besprochen habe. Wir kamen auf zwei Menschen, die beide Professoren an der Berliner Universität waren, zu sprechen. Der eine war der damals zweiundsiebzig Jahre alte Zeller, ein Schwabe, der eben um seine Pensionierung nachgesucht hatte, und der also meinte: Ich bin so alt geworden, daß ich nicht mehr meine Vorlesungen halten kann -, der alt und gebrechlich war mit seinen zweiundsiebzig Jahren. Und der andere war Michelet; der war fast neunzig Jahre alt. Und Michelet, der war eben bei Eduard von Hartmann gewesen und sagte: Ja, ich verstehe den Zeller nicht! Wie ich so alt war wie der Zeller, da war ich überhaupt ein junger Dachs, und jetzt, jetzt fühle ich mich erst so recht befähigt, den Leuten was zu sagen. Ich, ich werde noch jahrelang, viele Jahre noch vortragen! Aber der Michelet hatte etwas von dem, was man nennen kann: ein Jung-kräftig-Gewordenes. Es ist ja selbstverständlich keine innere Notwendigkeit gewesen, daß er just so alt geworden ist; es hätte ihn ja ein Ziegelstein erschlagen können mit fünfzig Jahren oder noch früher, nicht wahr; von solchen Dingen rede ich nicht. Aber nachdem er so alt geworden ist, war er eben seiner Seele nach nicht alt geworden, sondern gerade jung geworden. Doch dieser Michelet war seinem ganzen Wesen nach eben gar kein Materialist. Auch die Hegelianer sind ja vielfach Materialisten geworden, wenn sie es auch nicht zugeben wollen, aber Michelet war, wenn er auch in schweren Sätzen sprach, vom Geiste innerlich ergriffen. Allerdings, so vom Geiste innerlich ergriffen werden können nur wenige. Aber das ist es ja gerade, was gesucht wird durch anthroposophisch orientierte Geisteswissenschaft: etwas zu geben, was allen Menschen etwas sein kann, so wahr wie Religion allen Menschen etwas sein muß, was zu allen Menschen sprechen kann. Das hängt aber zusammen mit unserem ganzen Erziehungswesen.
Unser ganzes Erziehungswesen ist aufgebaut - in viel tieferen Zusammenhängen muß man das sehen, als das irgendwie sonst angedeutet wird — auf ganz materialistischen Impulsen. Man rechnet nur mit dem physischen Leib des Menschen, niemals mit seinem Jüngerwerden. Mit dem Jüngerwerden beim Älterwerden rechnet man nicht. Es ist nicht auf den ersten Blick hin immer gleich durchschaubar, aber es ist doch so, daß alles das, was im Laufe der Zeit zum Gegenstand der Erziehungswissenschaft, zum Gegenstand des Unterrichts geworden ist, etwas ist, was eigentlich den Menschen, wenn er nicht just Professor wird oder ein wissenschaftlicher Schriftsteller, nur packen kann in seiner Jugend. Man macht nicht sehr oft die Erfahrung, daß jemand den Stoff, den man heute aufnimmt während seiner Schulzeit, in derselben Weise im späteren Alter, wenn er es nicht mehr nötig hat, noch aufnehmen möchte. Ich habe Mediziner kennengelernt, die Koryphäen in ihrem Fache waren, die also so ihre Studienzeit und ihre übrige Jugendzeit zugebracht hatten, daß sie Koryphäen haben werden können. Aber daß sie fortsetzten dieselbe Art und Weise des Sich-Aneignens des Wissensstoffes in späteren Jahren, davon war gar keine Rede. Einen ganz berühmten Mann ich will seinen Namen gar nicht aussprechen, so berühmt war er kannte ich, der also einen ersten Namen hat in der medizinischen Wissenschaft. Die spätere Auflage seiner Bücher hat er von seinem Assistenten besorgen lassen, weil er selber mit der Wissenschaft nicht mehr mitging; das paßte nicht mehr für sein späteres Alter.
Das hängt aber damit zusammen: Wir bilden allmählich immer mehr und mehr ein Bewußtsein aus, daß dasjenige, was man lehrmäßig aufnehmen kann, eigentlich nur für die Jugendjahre etwas taugt, worüber man später hinaus ist. Und das ist es auch. Man kann sich ja später noch zwingen, zu manchem zurückzukehren, aber man muß sich dann schon zwingen; naturgemäß ist es gewöhnlich nicht. Und dennoch, ohne daß der Mensch immer Neues aufnimmt — und zwar nicht so aufnimmt, daß man sich herbeiläßt, aufzunehmen etwa durch den Konzertsaal, oder durch das Theater, oder, mit Respekt zu vermelden, durch die Zeitung oder sonstiges von der Art -, altert er in seiner Seele. Man muß aufnehmen in anderer Weise, so aufnehmen, daß man wirklich in der Seele das Gefühl hat: man erfährt Neues, man wandelt sich um, man verhält sich zu dem, was man aufnimmt, im Grunde genommen, wie sich das Kind verhalten hat. Das kann man nicht auf künstliche Weise, sondern das kann nur geschehen, wenn etwas da ist, zu dem man hinkommen kann in späterem Alter gerade so, wie man als Kind zu der gebräuchlichen Unterrichtswissenschaft kommt.
Aber nun nehmen Sie unsere anthroposophisch orientierte Geisteswissenschaft. Wie es in späteren Jahrhunderten mit ihr sein wird, darüber brauchen wir uns ja jetzt nicht die Köpfe zu zerbrechen. Sie wird schon für diese späteren Jahrhunderte auch die entsprechenden Formen finden, aber jetzt ist sie doch jedenfalls - allerdings noch zur Antipathie von manchem — so, daß man vorerst nicht aufzuhören braucht, sie aufzunehmen, wenn man noch so uralt geworden ist in der Gegenwart. Man kann immer in ihr Neues erfahren, das die Seele ergreift, das die Seele wieder jung macht. Und mancherlei Neues könnte schon auf geisteswissenschaftlichem Boden gefunden werden, auch solches Neue, welches Blicke hineintun ließe in wichtigste Probleme der Gegenwart. Vor allen Dingen aber braucht die Gegenwart einen Impuls, der den Menschen als solchen unmittelbar ergreift. Nur dadurch kann diese Gegenwart herauskommen aus den Kalamitäten, in die sie hineingekommen ist und die so katastrophal wirken.
Die Impulse, um die es sich handelt, müssen unmittelbar an den Menschen herankommen. Und wenn man nun nicht Friedrich Schlegel ist, sondern ein Einsichtiger ist in das, was wirklich der Menschheit not tut, dann kann man sich trotzdem an einzelne schöne Gedanken, die Friedrich Schlegel gehabt hat, halten und sich wenigstens an ihnen freuen. Er hat davon gesprochen, daß nicht von einem gewissen Standpunkte aus die Dinge verabsolutiert werden dürfen. Er hat zunächst nur die Parteien gesehen, die immer ihr eigenes Prinzip als das Alleinseligmachende für alle Menschen betrachten. Aber noch viel mehr wird in unserer Zeit verabsolutiert. Es wird vor allen Dingen nicht berücksichtigt, daß im Leben ein Impuls unheilvoll für sich sein kann, im Zusammenwirken aber mit andern Impulsen heilsam sein kann, weil er dann etwas anderes wird. Denken Sie sich einmal, wenn ich schematisch das aufzeichnen soll, drei Richtungen, die zusammenlaufen.

Die eine Richtung soll uns symbolisieren nicht gerade den landläufigen trivialen oder Leninschen, sondern den Sozialismus, welchem die moderne Menschheit zusteuert. Die zweite Linie soll uns symbolisieren dasjenige, was ich Ihnen oftmals charakterisiert habe als Gedankenfreiheit, und die dritte Richtung Geisteswissenschaft. Diese drei Dinge gehören zusammen. Im Leben müssen sie zusammenwirken.
Versuchte der Sozialismus, so wie er als grober materialistischer Sozialismus heute auftritt, in die Menschheit einzudringen, so würde er das größte Unglück über die Menschheit bringen. Er wird bei uns symbolisiert durch den Ahriman unten in unserer Gruppe, in allen seinen Formen. Versucht die falsche Gedankenfreiheit, die bei jedem Gedanken stehenbleiben will und ihn geltend machen will, einzudringen, wird wiederum Unheil über die Menschheit gebracht. Dieses wird symbolisiert durch Luzifer in unserer Gruppe. Aber ausschließen können Sie weder Ahriman noch Luzifer aus der Gegenwart; nur müssen sie ausgeglichen werden durch Pneumatologie, durch Geisteswissenschaft, die durch den Menschheitsrepräsentanten, der in der Mitte unserer Gruppe steht, repräsentiert wird.
Immer wieder und wiederum muß man darauf hinweisen, daß Geisteswissenschaft nicht bloß etwas sein soll für Menschen, die sich aus dem Lebenszusammenhange herausgerissen haben durch den einen oder den andern Umstand, und die sich ein bißchen anregen lassen wollen durch allerlei Dinge, die zusammenhängen mit höheren Angelegenheiten, sondern daß Geisteswissenschaft, anthroposophisch orientierte Geisteswissenschaft etwas sein soll, was mit den tiefsten Bedürfnissen unseres Zeitalters zusammenhängt. Denn dieses unser Zeitalter ist so, daß seine Kräfte nur überschaut werden können, wenn man ins Geistige hineinsieht. Das ist ja etwas, was mit den schlimmsten Übeln in unserer Zeit zusammenhängt, daß zahllose Menschen heute keine Ahnung davon haben, daß im sozialen, im sittlichen, im geschichtlichen Leben übersinnliche Kräfte walten, daß allerdings, ebenso wie die Luft, so übersinnliche Kräfte um uns herum walten. Die Kräfte sind da und sie fordern, daß wir sie wissend aufnehmen, um sie wissend zu dirigieren; sonst können sie von Unwissenden oder Unverständigen in falsche Bahnen gelenkt werden. Es darf allerdings die Sache nicht trivialisiert werden. Es darf nicht geglaubt werden, daß man auf diese Kräfte so hinweisen kann, wie man oftmals aus dem Kaffeesatz oder aus anderem die Zukunft vorhersagt. Aber mit der Zukunft, mit der Gestaltung der Zukunft hängt doch dasjenige zusammen in einer gewissen Weise, und manchmal in einer recht naheliegenden Weise, was nur dann erkannt werden kann, wenn man von geisteswissenschaftlichen Prinzipien ausgeht.
Um das einzusehen, werden vielleicht manche Leute noch länger als fünf Jahre brauchen. Aber es ist doch schon so - Sie wissen, solche Dinge sage ich nicht aus einer gewissen Albernheit heraus -, aber man wird einstmals den Beweis liefern können, daß in einem gewissen Sinn früher von mir klar vorausbestimmt worden ist zu einem gewissen Ziele, zu einem gewissen Zweck dasjenige, was jetzt als eine neue Kriegsfanfare von Wilsonscher Seite aus in die Welt geht. Und auch hier in diesem Saale sitzen einige Menschen, welche ganz genau wissen, daß der Inhalt dieser neuen Kriegsfanfare vorausgewußt worden ist und daß in einer richtigen Weise über den Inhalt dieser Kriegsfanfare gedacht worden ist. Es ist im allgemeinen schwierig, über diese Dinge so ganz unbefangen zu sprechen. Aber gerade diesen aktuellen Ereignissen gegenüber - die Zeichen der Zeit fordern es heute -, muß immer wieder und wiederum betont werden, wie es die große Forderung unserer Zeit ist, daß die Menschen aufmerksam darauf werden, daß eben gewisse Dinge, die heute geschehen, nur durchschaut werden können und vor allen Dingen richtig beurteilt werden können, wenn man von jenen Gesichtspunkten ausgeht, die doch nur durch anthroposophisch orientierte Geisteswissenschaft gewonnen werden können.
Twelfth Lecture
In these reflections, we want to talk about important questions concerning the development of humanity, and you have already seen that this requires a great deal of preparation. Today, in order to provide as broad a basis as possible, I would like to remind you of individual points that have been mentioned from various perspectives during the course of the discussions here during my current stay, but which are necessary if we are to see tomorrow and the day after tomorrow in the right light.
I have pointed out to you how, in that stage of human development which we may regard as the one that has been of interest to us since the great Atlantean catastrophe, significant changes have taken place within humanity. Months ago, I drew your attention to the difference between the way humanity in general changes and the way the individual human being changes. As the years pass, the individual human being grows older. In a certain sense, one can say that the opposite is true of humanity as such. Man is first a child, then grows up and reaches the age we know as the average lifespan. In the process, the physical powers of man undergo manifold changes and transformations. We have already characterized the sense in which a reverse process takes place in humanity. It can be said that in those ancient times that followed the great Atlantean catastrophe—in geology it is called the Ice Age, in religious traditions the Flood—in those times, immediately following this great flooding of the earth, which really resulted in a kind of glaciation, humanity was capable of developing in a completely different way than later, for the next 2,160 years.
We know that in our present time we are capable of development up to a certain age, freely, without any effort on our part, through our nature, through our physical powers. In the first period after the great Atlantean catastrophe, we have said, human beings were capable of development for much longer. They remained capable of development until their fifties, so that they always knew that this period of advancing age was also connected with a transformation of the soul and spirit. If we want to develop spiritually after our twenties, we must seek this development through our willpower. Until our twenties, we change physically, and in this physical change there is something that determines our spiritual progress. Then the physical ceases to make us dependent on itself; then, so to speak, our physical nature has nothing more to give, and we must advance through our willpower. This is how it appears outwardly at first glance. We will see immediately afterwards how things stand inwardly.
This was different in the first 2160 years or so after the great Atlantean catastrophe. Although human beings remained dependent on their physical bodies until old age, they also enjoyed this dependence. They enjoyed not only continuing to progress during their growth and development, but also, as their life forces declined, experiencing the fruits of these declining life forces in their souls as a kind of blossoming of the soul, which is no longer possible today. Yes, the external, physical-cosmic conditions of human existence change in a relatively short period of time.
Then came the time when human beings were no longer able to develop to such an advanced age, up to their fifties. In the second period after the great Atlantean catastrophe, which again lasted about 2160 years, which we call the ancient Persian period, human beings were still able to develop up to the age of forty. Then, in the next period, the Egyptian-Chaldean period, they remained capable of development until the age of 35 to 42. In the Greek-Latin period, humans remained capable of development until the age of 35. Now we are living in the period since the 15th century, where humans carry their development only into their twenties.
All this is something that external history tells us nothing about and that is not believed by external historical science, but with which an infinite number of secrets of human development are connected. So that one can say that the whole of humanity moved in, became younger and younger — if we call this change in development becoming younger. And we have seen what conclusion must be drawn from this. This conclusion was not yet so pressing in Greek and Latin times; then, human beings naturally remained capable of development until the age of thirty-five. This conclusion is becoming more and more pressing and, from our time onwards, particularly significant. For in relation to the whole of humanity, we are now, so to speak, living in the twenty-seventh year, entering the twenty-sixth, and so on; so that human beings are dependent on carrying through their whole life what they receive in their early youth through natural development, if they do nothing to take their further development into their own hands of their own free will. And the future of humanity will consist in its going back more and more, further and further back, so that unless a spiritual impulse seizes humanity, times could come when only youthful views prevail.
This becoming younger of humanity is expressed in outward symptoms — and anyone who views historical development with a somewhat more discerning mind can also see this outwardly — 'it is expressed in the fact that, for example, in Greece one had to be of a certain age before one could participate in public affairs in any way. Today we see large sections of humanity demanding that this age be lowered as far as possible, because people think that by the age of twenty they already know everything that human beings can achieve. And demands will continue to grow in this direction, unless insight paralyzes these demands: not only to allow people from the beginning of their twenties to be so intelligent that they can participate in parliamentary bodies of any kind in the world, but also to allow nineteen- and eighteen-year-olds to believe that they already possess everything that human beings can comprehend.
This way of becoming disciples is at the same time a challenge to humanity to draw from the spiritual realm what nature no longer gives to human beings. Last time, I drew your attention to the tremendous turning point in the history of human development that occurred in the 15th century, something else that is not recorded in external history, for external history, as I have often said, is a fable convenue. A completely new understanding of human nature must come, for only when a completely new understanding of human nature comes can the impulse that humanity needs in order to take into its own hands, of its own free will, what nature no longer gives, then truly be found. We must not believe that the future of humanity will suffice with the thoughts and ideas that the modern age has brought forth and of which the modern age is so proud. We cannot do enough to make ourselves realize how necessary it is to seek new, novel impulses for the development of humanity. It is certainly trivial, as I have often said, to say that our time is a transitional age, for every age is truly transitional. But it is something else to know what is passing away in a particular age. Certainly, every age is a transitional age; but in every age one should also look around for what is in the process of transition.
I want to pick up on a fact. I could pick up on a hundred others, but I want to pick up on a specific fact that is only meant to serve as an example for many things. As I said, one could pick up on similar things in a hundred different ways in all parts of Europe. It was still in the first half of the 19th century when Friedrich Schlegel, one of the two Schlegel brothers who rendered such great services to Central European culture, gave a series of lectures in Vienna in 1828. In these lectures, Friedrich Schlegel attempted, from a high historical standpoint, to tell people what needs lie in the development of time, where they should direct their eyes in order to do what was right for the development of the 19th century and the coming era.
Friedrich Schlegel was under two main historical influences at that time. On the one hand, he looked back at the 18th century and how it had gradually developed into atheism, materialism, and irreligiousness. And Friedrich Schlegel—we do not wish to criticize, but only to present a fact, to consider a human point of view—Friedrich Schlegel saw how what had been going on in people's minds throughout the 18th century then exploded in the French Revolution. He saw a great one-sidedness in this French Revolution. Certainly, today we may find it reactionary for someone like Friedrich Schlegel to see great one-sidedness in the French Revolution, but such a judgment must also be viewed from other perspectives. It is generally quite easy to say that this or that was achieved for humanity by the French Revolution. Certainly, that is quite simple; but the question is whether everyone who speaks enthusiastically about the French Revolution in this way is really completely sincere in their heart of hearts. There is, I would say, a litmus test for this sincerity, and this litmus test consists simply in asking oneself: How would one view such a movement if it broke out around one in the present? What would one say then? One should always ask oneself this question when considering such matters. Only then does one obtain a kind of cross-check for one's own sincerity. For it is generally not particularly difficult to be enthusiastic about something that happened so many decades ago. The question is whether one could also be enthusiastic if one were directly involved in it in the present.
Friedrich Schlegel, as I said, regarded the revolution as an explosion of the so-called Enlightenment, the atheistic Enlightenment of the 18th century. And alongside this event, on which he focused his attention, he placed another: the emergence of the man who replaced the revolution and who contributed so enormously to the later shaping of Europe: Napoleon. And Friedrich Schlegel—as I said, he viewed world history from a lofty perspective—Friedrich Schlegel points out on this occasion that when such a personality enters world history with such force, he must really be viewed from a different perspective than the one we usually apply. Friedrich Schlegel makes a very nice remark when he talks about Napoleon. He says that one should not forget: Napoleon had seven years to live himself into what he later considered his task; the turmoil he brought to Europe lasted twice seven years, and then the life he was granted after his fall lasted another seven years. Four times seven years is the career of this man. Friedrich Schlegel draws attention to this in a very beautiful way.
I have pointed out to you on various occasions what role such inner regularity plays in people who are truly representative of the history of human development. I have pointed out to you how remarkable it is that Raphael always produced a significant painting after a certain number of years; I have pointed out to you how Goethe's poetic power always flared up in seven-year periods, while in the intervening years, between the seven-year intervals, there was a decline. And one could cite many, many examples of this. Friedrich Schlegel did not exactly regard Napoleon as a blessing for European humanity.
In these lectures, Friedrich Schlegel draws attention to what he believes must be the salvation of Europe after the confusion caused by the Revolution and the Napoleonic era. And Friedrich Schlegel finds that the deeper reason for the confusion lies in the fact that people are not able to rise with their worldview to a more comprehensive point of view, which can only come from living into the spiritual world. This, according to Friedrich Schlegel, has led to a situation in which a general human worldview has been replaced everywhere by party viewpoints, party viewpoints that consist in someone regarding what appears to them from their own standpoint in life as something absolute, as that which must bring salvation to all; whereas, according to Friedrich Schlegel's view, the only salvation of humanity consists in in being aware that one stands on a certain point of view and others stand on another, and that a balance between these points of view must be found through life. It is not the absolutization of a point of view that must take hold.
Now Friedrich Schlegel finds that the only thing that can instruct people to truly realize this tolerance, which he believes does not tend toward indifference but toward a powerful life force, is true Christianity alone. Therefore, Friedrich Schlegel—in 1828, I must always emphasize this—draws the conclusion from the considerations he has presented to his audience that all life in Europe, but above all the life of science and the life of states, must be permeated by Christianity. And in this he sees the great calamity that science has become unchristian, that the states have become unchristian, that nowhere has that which constitutes the actual Christ impulse penetrated into scientific contemplation in modern times and penetrated into the life of the states. Now he demands that the Christian impulse once again penetrate scientific and state life.
Friedrich Schlegel was, of course, talking about the scientific nature of life and the life of the state in his own time, that is, in 1828. But for certain reasons, which will become clearer to us in a moment, we can also view today's science and the life of the state as Friedrich Schlegel viewed them in 1828. Try asking questions today in the sciences that are most prominent in public life, such as physics, chemistry, biology, economics, and even political science. Try asking them whether there is any serious Christian influence anywhere in their work. No one admits it, but in truth all the sciences are atheistic; and the various churches try to get along well with these atheistic sciences because they do not feel strong enough to truly imbue science with the principles of Christianity. Hence the convenient, cheap theory that religious life requires something different from external science, that external science must adhere to what can be observed, and religious life to feeling. The two should be neatly separated; one should not interfere with the other. In this way, it is possible to live together, but it leads to conditions such as those we have today.
Now, what Friedrich Schlegel put forward at that time was imbued with a deep, inner warmth, truly imbued with his great personal impulse to serve his time, to call for religion not to be merely a Sunday school, but to be carried into all life, above all into scientific and political life. And one can see from the way Friedrich Schlegel spoke in Vienna at that time that he had hope, great hope, that out of the confusion caused by the revolution and Napoleon, a Europe would emerge that would be thoroughly Christian in its scientific and political life. The last of these lectures deals in particular with the prevailing spirit of the times and with general restoration. Friedrich Schlegel chose as the motto for this lecture, which is truly imbued with great spirit, the words from the Bible: “I am coming soon and will make everything new,” and he chose this motto because he believed that it was truly inherent in the people of the 19th century, in the people whom he could address at that time as young people, that they had the power to receive that which could make everything new.
Anyone who reads Friedrich Schlegel's lectures comes away with mixed feelings. On the one hand, one says to oneself: From what lofty perspectives, from what enlightened views did people once speak about science and state life! How one must have wished that such words had ignited numerous souls. And if they had caught fire, what would have become of Europe in the course of the 19th century? I say that one leaves the reading with mixed feelings. For, first of all, it did not turn out that way; the catastrophic events that now stand before us in such a terrible manner did occur, and these catastrophic events were preceded by preparations in which one could clearly see that these catastrophic events had to come; they were preceded by the age of materialistic science, which became even stronger than it was in Friedrich Schlegel's time, and preceded by the age of materialistic statecraft throughout Europe. And it is only with wistful feelings that one can now look at such a motto: “For behold, I am coming soon and will make everything new.”
There must be some mistake somewhere. Friedrich Schlegel certainly spoke out of the most sincere conviction, and he was by no means an unkeen observer of his time. He was already able to assess the situation, but something must have been wrong. Yes, what does Friedrich Schlegel mean by the Christianization of Europe? One could say that he has a feeling for the greatness and significance of the Christ impulse. And he also has a feeling that the Christ impulse must be grasped in a new way in a new age, that one cannot remain stuck in the way that earlier centuries grasped the Christ impulse. He knows this; he has a feeling for it. But with this feeling he nevertheless leans back on the Christianity that already exists, the Christianity that has developed historically up to his time. He believed that a movement could emanate from Rome of which one could say: “I am coming soon and will make everything new. He was one of those people in the 19th century who turned from Protestantism to Catholicism because they believed they could feel more strength in Catholic life than in Protestant life. But he was free-spirited enough not to become a Catholic zealot.
But there was something Friedrich Schlegel did not say to himself. What he did not say to himself was that one of the deepest and most meaningful truths of Christianity is found in the words: “I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.” Revelation has not ceased, but comes back periodically. And while Friedrich Schlegel built on what was already there, he should have seen, should have felt, that a true Christianization of science and state life can only come about when new insights are drawn from the spiritual world. He did not see this; he knows nothing about it. And this shows us, in one of the most significant examples of the 19th century, that even among the most enlightened minds, the illusion arises again and again that one can still build on something that already exists, that one does not need to draw from the fountain of youth of something new, and that under these illusions, they can indeed achieve great things and genius, but that this genius leads nowhere. For Friedrich Schlegel's hope was for a Europe in the 19th century permeated by science and Christian values. He believed that a general renewal of the world, a general restoration of the Christ impulse, would soon come. And what came? A materialistic trend in science in the second half of the 19th century, against which what Friedrich Schlegel had experienced in 1828 was truly child's play in terms of materialism. And a materialization of state life—one need only know history, real history, not the fable convenue taught in schools and universities—a materialization of state life that Friedrich Schlegel could not yet see around him in 1828. He therefore predicted a Christianization of Europe and was a poor prophet, since what came instead was a materialization of Europe.
People simply like to live in illusions. And this is connected with the great problem that concerns us now, which I have already mentioned repeatedly, which will become very clear to us in these days, it is connected with the great problem: people have forgotten how to really grow old, and we must learn again how to grow old. We must learn to grow old in a new way, and we can only do this through spiritual deepening. But as I said, this can only become clear to us in the course of contemplation. Time is generally averse to this, still averse, and it must be made favorable, it must come out of its aversion.
However, the habits of thinking and feeling of the time are not inclined to live themselves into what, for example, is the spiritual demand of anthroposophically oriented spiritual science with a certain lightness, with a certain facility. This can be seen very clearly in examples. I would like to give an obvious example.
Just the day before yesterday, I received a letter from a man who belongs to the scholarly community. He writes that he has now read a lecture I gave two years ago on the task of spiritual science, and that after reading this lecture, he has seen that this spiritual science contains something very fruitful for him. The tone of this letter is quite warm, quite amiable, kind, and dear. One can see that the man is moved by what he has read in this lecture on the task of spiritual science. He is a man with a thorough scientific education who is standing in life, even in the difficult life of the present, and who has therefore seen in this lecture that spiritual science is not something stupid or impractical, but can provide impulses for the times. But now let us consider the other side of the matter: five years ago, the same man sought to join this spiritual science, sought to join a branch in which this spiritual science was being pursued, had at that time also asked to have various conversations with me, had them, had participated in branch meetings five years ago, and five years ago reacted to the matter in such a way that he found it repugnant, that he rejected it so strongly that in the meantime he has become an enthusiastic eulogist of Mr. Freimark, whom you know from his various writings. Now the same man excuses himself by saying that it might have been better, instead of what he did at the time, to read something of mine, to read some books and familiarize himself with the matter; but he did not do that, instead he judged according to what others had told him, and that gave him such a deterrent picture of spiritual science that he found it quite unsuitable for his own path of development. Now, after five years, he has read a lecture and found that the matter is not so.
I am only citing this example, which could be multiplied many times over, to illustrate the way in which one can approach the matter at hand—not in the manner of Friedrich Schlegel, but in the only way possible: a Christianization of all science, a Christianization of all public life. I cite this as an example of the habits of thinking of our time, especially in the sciences. It is therefore no proof whatsoever that someone who approaches the anthroposophical movement — has several conversations, participates in branch meetings, rails against the members of these meetings and what they say to him, draws his conclusions from this, and then goes on to rant about the whole of anthroposophy, only to become an enthusiastic eulogist of Freimark, who has written the most slanderous writings about anthroposophically oriented spiritual science — that he has found something in it that he dislikes. After five years, the same person decides to actually read something.
It is therefore no proof whatsoever if so many people today say the most shameful things or agree with the most shameful things that they could not have the deepest predisposition to join anthroposophical spiritual science. If they are as willing as the person in question, they need five years; some need ten, some fifteen, some fifty years, some so long that they cannot experience it in this incarnation. You see how little people's behavior is any proof that people are not seeking what can be found in anthroposophically oriented spiritual science.
I cite this example because it points precisely to the essential and important thing I have mentioned frequently: the lack of facility in entering into the matter, the sticking to traditional prejudices that one does not want to renounce. And that, in turn, is connected with other things. One need only put oneself emotionally back into those old times of which I have spoken to you before and today. Imagine a young person after the Atlantean catastrophe, living in his social context. He was, let us say, twenty, twenty-five years old, and he saw people around him who were forty, fifty, sixty years old. He said to himself: How fortunate to be able to live to be that old, because life is so much more worth living! It was a completely natural, immense reverence for the elderly, looking up to them, combined with the awareness that the elderly have something different to say about life than the young and reckless. Just knowing this in theory is not enough; it is important to feel it with all your heart and to grow up under this impression. It is infinitely important to grow up not just in such a way that you remember your youth and say to yourself: Oh, how wonderful it was when I was a child! Certainly, no intellectual reflection will ever take away this beauty of life from human beings. But it is a one-sided view, which in ancient times was complemented by another: How wonderful it is to grow old! For as one grows weaker physically, one grows stronger spiritually; one grows together with the wisdom of the world. That was a formula that people once accepted through their education.
Now let us consider another truth which I have not mentioned during these weeks, but which I have repeatedly shared with our friends here and there over the years: We grow older, but only our physical body grows older. For from a spiritual point of view, it is not true that we grow older. It is a Maya, an external deception. It is true in relation to physical life, but it is not true in relation to the whole context of human life. Of course, one has the right to say: It is not true — if one knows that this human being who lives in the physical world between birth and death is something quite different from his physical body; that he consists of higher members, first of all of what we have called the etheric body or formative force body, and then of the astral body, the I, if we only designate these four parts.
But even if we stop at the etheric body, the invisible, supersensible etheric body or formative body, we see that we carry it within us between birth and death just as we carry our physical body of flesh and blood and bones; we carry this formative body, this etheric body within us, but there is a difference between the two. The physical body grows older and older. The etheric or formative body is old when we are born; for when we investigate its true nature, we find that it is old, and it grows younger and younger. So we can say that the first spiritual element in us — in contrast to the physical body, which becomes weak and feeble — becomes ever stronger and younger. And it is true, literally true: when we begin to get wrinkles on our faces, our etheric body blossoms and becomes chubby.
Yes, but that contradicts — the materialistic thinker might say — it contradicts completely that we cannot feel it! In ancient times it was felt. It is only in more recent times that people do not take this into account, do not attach any value to it. In ancient times, nature itself brought it about; in more recent times, it is almost an exception. But such exceptions do exist. I know that I once discussed a similar topic with Eduard von Hartmann, the philosopher of the “unconscious,” at the end of the 1880s. We came to talk about two people who were both professors at the University of Berlin. One was Zeller, who was seventy-two years old at the time, a Swabian who had just applied for retirement and who said: “I have grown so old that I can no longer give my lectures” — he was old and frail at seventy-two. And the other was Michelet, who was almost ninety years old. And Michelet, who had just been with Eduard von Hartmann, said: 'Yes, I don't understand Zeller! When I was as old as Zeller, I was still a young buck, and now, now I feel truly capable of saying something to people. I will continue to lecture for many years to come! But Michelet had something that could be called a youthful vigor. Of course, it was not an inner necessity that he had lived to be so old; he could have been killed by a brick at the age of fifty or even earlier, couldn't he? I'm not talking about such things. But after he had grown so old, he had not grown old in his soul, but had become young. But this Michelet was not a materialist in his whole being. Even the Hegelian thinkers have often become materialists, even if they do not want to admit it, but Michelet, even when he spoke in difficult sentences, was inwardly moved by the spirit. Admittedly, only a few can be moved by the spirit in this way. But that is precisely what anthroposophically oriented spiritual science seeks to achieve: to give something that can be something for all people, as true as religion must be something for all people, something that can speak to all people. But this is connected with our entire educational system.
Our entire educational system is built on entirely materialistic impulses — this must be seen in a much deeper context than is usually suggested. We only take into account the physical body of the human being, never their becoming a disciple. No account is taken of becoming a disciple as one grows older. It is not always immediately apparent at first glance, but it is nevertheless true that everything that has become the subject of educational science and teaching over time is something that can only really appeal to people in their youth, unless they happen to become professors or scientific writers. It is not very often that one finds that someone wants to take in the material they learned during their school days in the same way later in life, when they no longer need it. I have met doctors who were luminaries in their field, who had spent their student days and the rest of their youth in such a way that they were able to become luminaries. But there was no question of them continuing to acquire knowledge in the same way in later years. I knew a very famous man, so famous that I don't even want to mention his name, who was a leading figure in medical science. He had his assistant take care of the later editions of his books because he himself was no longer keeping up with science; it was no longer suitable for his advanced age.
But this is related to the fact that we are gradually becoming more and more aware that what can be learned by rote is really only useful in our youth, and that we outgrow it later in life. And that is indeed the case. Later in life, we can force ourselves to return to some things, but we have to force ourselves; it does not come naturally. And yet, without always taking in new things — and not taking them in in such a way that one condescends to take them in, for example through the concert hall, or through the theater, or, with all due respect, through the newspaper or other such things — one ages in one's soul. One must take things in in a different way, in such a way that one really feels in one's soul that one is experiencing something new, that one is changing, that one is relating to what one is taking in, basically in the same way that a child behaves. This cannot be done artificially, but can only happen if there is something to which one can come in later life, just as one comes to the usual academic sciences as a child.
But now take our anthroposophically oriented spiritual science. We don't need to rack our brains now about what will happen to it in later centuries. It will find the appropriate forms for those later centuries, but for now, at least — albeit still to the antipathy of some — it is such that there is no need to stop taking it in, even if one has grown very old in the present. One can always discover something new in it that touches the soul and rejuvenates it. And many new things could already be found on the ground of spiritual science, including new things that would allow us to gain insight into the most important problems of the present. Above all, however, the present needs an impulse that directly touches human beings as such. Only in this way can the present emerge from the calamities into which it has fallen and which are having such catastrophic effects.
The impulses in question must reach people directly. And if one is not Friedrich Schlegel, but someone who understands what humanity really needs, one can still hold on to individual beautiful thoughts that Friedrich Schlegel had and at least enjoy them. He spoke of the fact that things should not be absolutized from a certain point of view. At first, he only saw the parties that always regard their own principle as the sole source of happiness for all people. But in our time, even more is being made absolute. Above all, it is not taken into account that an impulse can be harmful in itself, but in interaction with other impulses it can be beneficial because it then becomes something else. Imagine, if I were to sketch this schematically, three directions that converge.

One direction is meant to symbolize not the commonplace, trivial socialism or Leninism, but the socialism toward which modern humanity is heading. The second line is meant to symbolize what I have often characterized as freedom of thought, and the third direction is spiritual science. These three things belong together. In life, they must work together.
If socialism, as it appears today in its crude materialistic form, were to attempt to penetrate humanity, it would bring the greatest misfortune upon humanity. It is symbolized in our group by Ahriman below, in all his forms. If false freedom of thought, which wants to remain with every thought and assert itself, attempts to penetrate, disaster will again be brought upon humanity. This is symbolized by Lucifer in our group. But you cannot exclude either Ahriman or Lucifer from the present; they must be balanced by pneumatology, by spiritual science, which is represented by the representative of humanity who stands in the middle of our group.
Again and again, it must be pointed out that spiritual science should not be something merely for people who have torn themselves out of the context of life through one circumstance or another and who want to be stimulated a little by all sorts of things connected with higher matters, but that spiritual science, anthroposophically oriented spiritual science, should be something connected with the deepest needs of our age. For our age is such that its forces can only be understood by looking into the spiritual realm. This is something that is connected with the worst evils of our time, that countless people today have no idea that supersensible forces are at work in social, moral, and historical life, that these supersensible forces are as real as the air around us. These forces are there, and they demand that we accept them knowingly in order to direct them knowingly; otherwise, they can be led astray by the ignorant or the uncomprehending. However, the matter must not be trivialized. It must not be believed that these forces can be pointed out in the same way that people often predict the future from coffee grounds or other means. But the future, the shaping of the future, is connected in a certain way, and sometimes in a very obvious way, with what can only be recognized if one starts from spiritual scientific principles.
Some people may need more than five years to understand this. But it is already the case—and I am not saying this out of a sense of silliness—that it will one day be possible to prove that, in a certain sense, what is now being presented to the world as a new war fanfare by Wilson was clearly predetermined by me for a certain goal, for a certain purpose. And here in this room there are also some people who know very well that the content of this new war fanfare was known in advance and that the content of this war fanfare was thought through in the right way. It is generally difficult to speak about these things in a completely unbiased manner. But precisely in view of these current events — the signs of the times demand it today — it must be emphasized again and again that it is the great demand of our time that people become aware that certain things that are happening today can only be understood and, above all, correctly judged if one starts from those points of view that can only be gained through anthroposophically oriented spiritual science.