The Rudolf Steiner Archive

Seventh Lecture

[ 1 ] In the coming days, I would like to present two things for your consideration through the reflections I will be sharing. At first glance, the two may seem unrelated, but by the time we reach the end of our reflections, you will notice that there is, in fact, a very deep connection between them. For, as I have already said, I would like to present in these reflections certain points of view and symptomatic indications regarding the development of religion in the fifth post-Atlantean period up to the present time. But on the other hand, I would like to shed some light on how precisely the kind of spiritual life we wish to cultivate can be connected to an institution that bears the name Goetheanum.

[ 2 ] I believe that, in the present day, what one decides in such a case is of particular significance. After all, we are currently at a point in human development where the future, so to speak, holds all kinds of possibilities, and where it is important not only to be able to face an uncertain future with courage, but also to arrive at decisions—based on the spirit of the times—to which one attaches a certain significance. The outward impetus for proposing the name “Goetheanum” seems to me to be the fact that some time ago, in public lectures, I stated that, in my personal opinion, I would most like to call the building—in which the spiritual orientation I have in mind is to be cultivated—the “Goetheanum.” This naming issue was, after all, already debated last year, and this year some of our friends have decided to advocate for the name “Goetheanum” to be chosen. As I said recently: There are quite a number of reasons for me—but they cannot be easily put into words; however, they may yet come to light if I proceed today to lay a foundation through reflections similar to those I presented here before you last time—a foundation for the reflections on the history of religion that we then intend to undertake in the coming days.

[ 3 ] As you know—and I would not bring up personal matters if they were not, especially today, connected to factual issues and also to our affairs regarding the Goetheanum— you know, of course, that my most significant early public literary work is linked to the name of Goethe, and you are surely also aware that this early public literary work developed within a realm where, even today, the immense, catastrophic events can be seen and perceived—even by those who absolutely do not want to see, who absolutely want to remain asleep. And what I must think—from the perspective of a spiritual-scientific worldview—in connection with Goethe is, for me, just as much a personal matter as what I recently said regarding the *Philosophy of Freedom*; on the one hand, it is certainly a personal matter, but on the other hand, this personal aspect is thoroughly linked to the course of events over the past decades. The fact that I lived in Austria until the end of the 1880s and then moved to Germany—first to Weimar, later to Berlin—is by no means, truly not, without an inner connection to the emergence, on the one hand, of my *Philosophy of Freedom* and, on the other hand, of my writings on Goethe. Of course, this is an external connection, but a discussion of such an external connection gradually leads—if one correctly grasps the symptoms—to the inner reality as well. You will already have noticed, precisely from the historical sketches I have given you, how I must apply what I call “historical symptomatology” in life, how I must understand both history and the individual human life through the symptoms and their manifestations, because from there everything can be traced back to the actual inner process. But one must truly have the will to move from the external facts to the inner processes.

[ 4 ] You see, many people today would like to learn to see supernaturally; but the path to that is more difficult, and most people would prefer to avoid it. That is why, even today, it is often the case that for some people who can see supernaturally, their outer life unfolds completely separate from their supernatural vision. However, if this separation exists, then the supersensory perception cannot be of great value; it can scarcely extend beyond the most personal moments. Our time is a time of transition. Certainly, every age is a time of transition; it simply depends on recognizing what is changing. But something important is passing away; what is passing away is precisely that which touches people in their innermost being, that which is most important to them in their innermost being. If one closely observes what the so-called educated public has actually been doing throughout the civilized world in recent decades, one arrives, as I have already indicated, at a rather sad picture of a humanity that is asleep. This is not meant to be a criticism, nor an impetus toward pessimism, but rather an impetus to instill the kinds of forces that enable people to achieve, at least for the time being, what is after all the most important—for the time being, the most important: to gain insight, true insight. The present must overcome many illusions; it must arrive at insights.

[ 5 ] Don’t start by asking: What should I do, or what should this or that person do? — For most people today, these are, in a certain sense, questions that are out of place at first. An important question, on the other hand, is: How can I gain insight into the current circumstances? — If there is sufficient insight, then the right thing will happen. Then, without a doubt, what is meant to develop will develop once the right insight has taken hold. But many things must be broken with. Above all, people must come to realize that external events are really nothing other than symptoms of an inner course of development lying in the supersensible realm—a course in which not only historical life is embedded, but in which we, each and every one of us, are embedded with our entire human being.

[ 6 ] Let me give you an example that I’d like to use as a starting point: We’ve often spoken here about the poet Robert Hamerling. People today are very proud that they can apply the so-called law of causality—the law of cause and effect—to all manner of things. This application of the law of causality to all manner of things is, in fact, one of the most disastrous illusions of our time. Anyone familiar with Hamerling’s life knows how significant it was for the development of his entire soul that, after having been a “substitute teacher” in Graz for a short time—as it is called—that is, a sort of temporary position before being hired as a high school teacher— after having been at a high school in Graz, was transferred to Trieste, from where he was able to take several leaves of absence to visit Venice. Anyone who now considers the ten years Hamerling spent there in the south on the Adriatic, partly in his position as a high school teacher in Trieste, and partly during his visits to Venice, will see how Hamerling’s soul was, first of all, filled with a burning enthusiasm for everything the South had to offer, but also how he drew the vitality—the spiritual vitality—for all his later poetry from what he experienced there. The whole of Hamerling, as he actually lived his life, would have been a different person had he not spent those ten years precisely in Trieste, with his vacations in Venice. |

[ 7 ] Now, let’s imagine that a truly narrow-minded, bourgeois professor is writing a biography of Robert Hamerling and wants to answer the question of what the underlying connection is—that Robert Hamerling was transferred to Trieste at precisely the right moment in his life, that he, who had no means of his own and was entirely dependent on receiving a salary through his position, was transferred to Trieste at just the right moment. I’ll tell you how this came about from an external perspective. So Robert Hamerling was at the time a temporary high school teacher—a “supplent,” as they call it in Austria—at the high school in Graz. Such substitute teachers often long for what is called a permanent position. To achieve this—since one is dealing with government agencies—one must submit all sorts of applications, written in a “half-baked” manner, attach certificates, and so on. These are then forwarded to the next higher authority, which in turn must pass them on to the higher-level authorities, and so on; I won’t go into further detail about this process. The principal of that high school in Graz, where Robert Hamerling was a substitute teacher, was the respectable Kaltenbrunner at the time. Robert Hamerling heard: There’s a vacancy in Budapest—a high school teaching position. — At that time, the Austro-Hungarian dual system did not yet exist; rather, it was still the case that high school teachers could be transferred from Graz to Budapest and from Budapest to Graz. He applied for this high school teaching position in Budapest, wrote a well-crafted application, and submitted it along with all his certificates to the respectable Principal Kaltenbrunner. Well, the good-natured Kaltenbrunner put it in a drawer and forgot about it—forgot the whole matter—and what happened was that the position in Budapest was filled by someone else. Hamerling didn’t get the job, but precisely because the good-natured Kaltenbrunner forgot to forward the application to the higher authority, which—had it not forgotten—would have passed it on to the next higher level, and that one to the next, and so on, until it reached the minister, then back down again, right, and so on. In short, someone else got the Budapest post, and Robert Hamerling spent those ten years—which were crucial for him—not in Budapest but in Trieste, because a position later became available in Trieste that was then assigned to him, since, of course, the good Mr. Kaltenbrunner didn’t mess up Hamerling’s application a second time, did he!

[ 8 ] So, viewed from the outside, the most important event in Hamerling’s development is due to the good-natured Kaltenbrunner’s aimless wandering; otherwise, Hamerling would have languished in Budapest! This is by no means a criticism of Budapest, of course, but Hamerling would most certainly have languished there and would not have been able to achieve what was so particularly suited to his heart and soul. And a proper, true biographer would now be able to recount how it came to be that Robert Hamerling ended up in Trieste instead of Budapest, simply because the man from Kaltenbrunn botched his application for the position in Budapest.

[ 9 ] Well, this is a striking example, but there are countless such cases—too many to count—in life. And anyone who wants to examine life solely through the lens of external events will find—even if they believe they can identify causal relationships—hardly any causes that are more deeply connected to their effects than the loitering of the good-natured Kaltenbrunner and the intellectual development of Robert Hamerling. This is just a remark I am making to draw your attention to the fact that it is indeed necessary—urgently necessary—for this very principle to take root in people’s souls: that external life should be regarded in its course as nothing other than a symptom intended to reveal what lies within.

[ 10 ] Last time, I spoke about how the period from the 1940s to the 1970s was, in a sense, a critical time for the bourgeoisie, how the bourgeoisie failed to seize the moment during this critical period, and how the “decades of calamity” then began in the late 1970s, which have brought about the conditions we see today. I myself spent the first part of those decades in Austria. In Austria, particularly during the last third of the 19th century, anyone who wished to participate in intellectual culture found themselves in a very remarkable situation. It is, of course, natural for me to examine the matter precisely from the perspective of someone who grew up amid Austria’s development and who is German by ancestry and blood ties. One is truly a German within Austrian territory in a very different way than one is, for example, a German within the territory of the so-called German Empire, or even a German within the territory of Switzerland. Of course, in the course of one’s life, one must strive to understand everything, and one can indeed understand everything; one can adapt to anything. But if, for example, one were to examine what an Austrian German feels with regard to the social structure in which he lives, and were then to ask: Can such an Austrian German, without first having to acquire it, have any understanding at all of that peculiar sense of national identity that exists in Switzerland? — then one must answer this question with the most decisive “no.” The Austrian German grew up in an environment that, unless he made a conscious effort to understand it, would make what is, for example, a kind of unyielding national consciousness among the Swiss appear to him as something completely incomprehensible. The Austrian German cannot muster the slightest understanding of this unless he consciously acquires it.

[ 11 ] This distinction within humanity is hardly ever taken into account. And it must be taken into account if one wishes to understand the difficult problems that lie ahead for humanity in the near future—indeed, even today—precisely with regard to such matters. For me, it was, in a sense—I would say—symptomatically significant that, precisely during my formative years, I actually grew up in an environment where even the most significant things were, at the root of it, none of my business. That was the most telling thing for me: that the most significant things were none of my business. But I wouldn’t even mention it if it weren’t actually the most significant experience of a true German-Austrian of all. You see, it manifests itself one way in one person and another way in another. In a sense, I lived a truly universal Austro-German life: from the age of eleven to eighteen, I had to cross the border—formed by the Leitha River between Austria and Hungary—twice every day, because I lived in Hungary and attended school in Austria. I lived in Neudörfl and went to school in Wiener-Neustadt. It took an hour to walk or a quarter of an hour by train—there were no express trains on that route back then, and I don’t think there are even today—and you always had to cross the Austro-Hungarian border. But in the process, you also got to know the two faces of the two halves of what was called “Austria” abroad. Because back then, things weren’t as simple at home as they are now. Now, of course, things are—one can’t say simpler, for they certainly won’t be simpler—but different. Until now, it was simply the case that one had to distinguish between two halves of the Austrian Empire: one half was not officially called Austria, but rather “the kingdoms and lands represented in the Imperial Council.” That was the official designation for the half lying on this side of the Leitha River, including Galicia, Bohemia, Silesia, Moravia, Upper and Lower Austria, Salzburg, Tyrol, Styria, Carniola, Carinthia, Istria, and Dalmatia. Then there was the second region, which comprised the lands of the Holy Crown of St. Stephen; which is what was referred to abroad as Hungary. Croatia and Slavonia also belonged to Hungary. Then, since the 1880s, there had been a shared territory—though it was only occupied until 1909 and was annexed later—namely Bosnia and Herzegovina, which was jointly administered by both halves of the Empire.

[ 12 ] Well, in that part of the country where I lived, I said, even among the most significant things, there were really only those that didn’t really concern me during those years, from the age of nine to eighteen. The first thing that struck me as significant there was Frohsdorf, a castle where the Count of Chambord lived—a member of the Bourbon family who, in 1871, made a failed attempt to become King of France under the name Henry V. He also had many other peculiarities. He was a staunch clericalist. But in him and everything associated with him, one could see a world in decline and decay and, in a sense, take in the symptoms of a decaying world. There were many things to be seen there, but it was none of one’s business. And one simply got the impression: Here is something that the world once took incredibly seriously, that many people still take incredibly seriously today, but which is actually a trifle, which actually means nothing special.

[ 13 ] The second was a kind of Jesuit monastery. Actually, it was a real Jesuit monastery, but these monks were called Liguorians—a branch of the Jesuits. This monastery was near Frohsdorf. You’d see the monks going for walks; you’d hear about the Jesuits’ endeavors, hear this or that—but it wasn’t really any of your business. And once again, you got the impression: What does all of this actually have to do anymore with the evolution of humanity as it moves toward the future? — The black monks gave the impression that they were actually completely out of step with the real forces guiding humanity toward the future.

[ 14 ] The third was a Masonic lodge in the same place where I was; the pastor railed against it terribly, but of course it was none of my business, since we weren’t allowed in there, were we? The caretaker did let me peek inside once, but it was all in secret. But the very next Sunday, I heard the pastor deliver yet another scathing sermon about it. In short, that, too, was none of one’s business.

[ 15 ] So I was well prepared when I began to become more aware of letting things affect me—things that are actually none of my business. Within my own development—and this is, after all, what actually led me to Goetheanism, as I understand it—I consider it very significant, and well orchestrated by my karma, I might say, that while my deepest interest in the spiritual world was present from a very early age, and my life also unfolded in the spiritual world from a very early age, I was not compelled by external circumstances to pursue a high school education. Everything one acquires through a high school education, I only acquired later through my own studies. High school in Austria wasn’t actually bad back then. It’s only been getting worse and worse since the 1970s, and for years now it has been approaching the high school systems of other neighboring countries in an alarming way, but back then it wasn’t particularly bad. Nevertheless, I wouldn’t be able to congratulate myself today if I had been sent to the high school in Wiener-Neustadt back then. I was sent to the Realschule, and through that I entered into an environment that prepared me for modern thinking—and above all, prepared me to develop an inner connection with a scientific mindset. This alignment with a scientific mindset was made possible in particular by the fact that the individual, more accomplished teachers at the Austrian Realschule—which at the time was organized in the most modern sense—were, in fact, the ones who were somehow connected to modern scientific thinking.

[ 16 ] Here in Wiener-Neustadt, it wasn’t even consistently like that. In the lower grades—and in Austrian secondary schools, religious instruction was only offered in the lower four grades—we had a religion teacher who was a very easygoing man, by no means suited to raising us to be pious. He was a Catholic priest, and the fact that he wasn’t exactly suited to turning us into devout believers was made clear by the fact that three little boys—whom everyone said were his sons—would pick him up every time he left our school. But I still hold the man in exceptionally high regard today for everything he said in class outside of the actual religion lessons. He taught those lessons by calling on a student and having them read a few pages from the book, and then we’d recite it; we didn’t know what was in it, we just recited it, and then we got an excellent grade. But of course, we completely overlooked the actual content of the book. What he said outside of class was sometimes a beautiful, inspiring word—and above all, it was very heartfelt and kind.

[ 17 ] Well, in an institution like that, we had a succession of the most diverse teachers. All of this is symptomatic. We had two Carmelites, one of whom was supposed to teach us French, the other English. The one in charge of English, in particular, could hardly speak a single English word—well, at any rate, not a single sentence. In natural history, we had a man who really knew absolutely nothing about God or the world. But we had excellent teachers in the fields of mathematics, physics, and chemistry—especially in descriptive geometry. And that fostered this growth into a way of thinking rooted in the natural sciences. For me, that actually provided the element, the impulse, that is so fundamentally connected to humanity’s striving toward the future in the present.

[ 18 ] Once one had managed to make one’s way through such an institution and entered university life, one naturally had to take an interest—provided one wasn’t sleepy—in public life, in what was happening in the public sphere. Now the point is that the Austrian German gains insight into the German essence in a fundamentally different way than what is referred to as the “Reich German.” For those events that, I might say, unfolded as matters of state in Austria, one could certainly have a certain external interest, but hardly a true inner connection, if one was interested in the course of human development. On the other hand, one could be directed—as was indeed the case for me—toward that which emerged from German culture at the end of the 18th and the beginning of the 19th centuries, and which I would, in a certain sense, like to call “Goetheanism.” As an Austrian German, one comes to know this differently than a Reich German. And one must not forget that, when one has grown into the natural sciences through a modern education, one simultaneously grows out of a certain unnatural milieu that has spread throughout the whole of western Austria in recent times. One grows out of what has, in an external sense, taken hold of the people of Western Austria—who, in part, and I naturally exclude myself from this, are exceptionally nice people—but which does not take hold of them internally: it is Catholicism, clerical Catholicism.

[ 19 ] This clerical Catholicism, as it exists in Western Austria, is essentially a product of the so-called Counter-Reformation. It is the product of a policy that can only be described as the Habsburgs’ power-base politics. Protestant ideas and influences had, after all, spread quite widely in Austria as well; but the era of the Thirty Years’ War and everything associated with it enabled the Habsburgs to stage a Counter-Reformation and, in fact—please, I’ll exclude myself from this again—to spread this terrible darkness over the Austrian-German people, who are, in their very nature, extraordinarily intelligent; a darkness that must be spread if one is to propagate Catholicism in any way in precisely the form in which it became dominant through the Counter-Reformation. This instills in people a terribly superficial relationship to all things religious. The luckiest are still those who become aware of this superficial relationship to religion. Those who do not become aware of it—who believe that their faith and their religiosity are sincere and honest—are caught up in an immense illusion about life, even a terrible lie about life, without realizing it; for this lie about life corrodes the inner soul.

[ 20 ] However, a scientific approach cannot help one relate to all that which then spreads through the soul as a dreadful emotional muddle. But one could always observe how, out of this morass, individual personalities develop in a distinctive way. These individual personalities, which develop in a distinctive way, are then, in a certain sense, propelled into what was the flowering of Central European spiritual life at the end of the 18th and the beginning of the 19th centuries. They come to know, so to speak, what has entered modern humanity—beginning with Lessing, through Herder, Goethe, the German Romantics, and so on—and what, in its broader scope, can indeed be described as Goetheanism.

[ 21 ] What has been particularly significant for German-Austrians striving for intellectual enlightenment during these decades is that, having been, so to speak, set apart from the community in which Lessing, Goethe, Herder, and so on were part of, and transported across the border into a completely foreign milieu, where he gained a living, direct experience of Goethe, Schiller, Lessing, Herder, and so on. One was unaware of everything else; one received, so to speak, only what had grown out of that environment, and one received it as an individual soul. For, after all, one was truly surrounded by things that were of no concern to one.

[ 22 ] So one lived alongside something that one gradually came to feel was, in fact, one’s own essence—something that had, however, been torn from the soil in which it had sprung up, and which one carried within one’s own soul, I might say, as part of a community consisting entirely of things that were none of one’s business. For it was, after all, an anomaly at that time to have Goethean ideas in one’s head while the world around one was enthusiastic—but the words of that enthusiasm were exaggerated and lacked any trace of sincere and honest struggle—about things like, well, I could name something else, but let’s say the book by the then Austrian Crown Prince Rudolf—that is, his courtiers wrote it: “Austria in Word and Image.” One had no connection to such things. Outwardly, one belonged to that world, but one had no connection to such things. One carried within one’s soul that which had truly grown out of the Central European spirit and which I would then like to describe, in a broader sense, as Goetheanism.

[ 23 ] This Goetheanism—and I include in this everything that was associated at the time with the names of Schiller, Lessing, Herder, and so on, as well as with the German philosophers—all of this stands, after all, in a remarkable state of isolation in the world at large. This isolation in which it stands in the world is extraordinarily significant for the entire development of modern humanity. For it is this isolation that prompts anyone who now wishes to approach this Goetheanism seriously to become a little pensive and contemplative.

[ 24 ] You see, if one looks back, one might ask: What was actually brought into the world from Lessing through the German Romantics, beyond Goethe, roughly up to the middle of the 19th century, and how does what was brought into the world at that time relate to the preceding historical development? — Well, it cannot be denied that the emergence of Protestantism from Catholicism is intimately connected with Central European historical development. Isn’t it true that, on the one hand, we see how within Central Europe—for example, in the German Empire (I have already discussed the same phenomena with regard to Austria)—that which I have characterized here as the Roman Catholic universal impulse has persisted, holding many souls captive—in Austria as outwardly as I have described it, and in Germany even more inwardly. For there is a great difference between an Austrian Catholic and even just a Bavarian Catholic, if one can truly discern such differences. Much of this has thus remained, dating back to centuries long past. Then Protestant culture—let us say, Lutheran culture—which in Switzerland took on the form of Zwinglianism, Calvinism, and so on, made its way into this Catholic culture. Now, in turn, many, many people within the so-called German people—namely, the people of Imperial Germany—are influenced by Lutheranism. But if one raises the question: What connection exists between Goetheanism and Lutheranism?—one receives the curious answer that there is actually no connection at all. Certainly, on the surface, Goethe also engaged with Luther and with Catholicism. But if one inquires into the inner spiritual ferment within Goethe, one can only say: There was nothing more indifferent to him throughout his entire development than being Catholic or Protestant. — As I said, it exists in his surroundings, yet it is not in the remotest way connected to him. One can even add another insight to this. Herder was a pastor, even a superintendent in Weimar. Anyone who reads his writings can also say of Herder—who, as a pastor, naturally had a great deal of outward familiarity with Luther and knew him well—that his disposition, his thinking, is not in the remotest way connected to Lutheranism in any way, that he had completely outgrown Lutheranism. Thus, in everything that belongs to Goetheanism—and I include all of this in that category—one finds, in this respect as well, something completely isolated. And if one inquires into the nature, the essence of this isolated phenomenon, one actually learns that it has crystallized out of all manner of impulses characteristic of the fifth post-Atlantean epoch. Luther had absolutely no influence on Goethe, but Goethe was influenced by Linnaeus, by Spinoza, and by Shakespeare. And if one wishes to inquire about Goethe’s influences: according to Goethe’s own admission, these three figures had the greatest influence on the development of his soul.

[ 25 ] Thus, Goetheanism stands out as an isolated phenomenon. And that is what meant that this Goetheanism, in turn, was truly faced with what one might call the impossibility of becoming popular. For, is it not true that the old phenomena persist? Among the broad masses, no attempt was even made to make the ideas of Lessing, Schiller, and Goethe in any way accessible, let alone to make the feelings and sensibilities of these figures accessible. In contrast, on the one hand, outdated Catholicism and, on the other, outdated Lutheranism continued to exist as if from a bygone era. And it is indeed a significant phenomenon that what drives people intellectually within that cultural current to which Goethe belonged—the one that produced Goethe—is connected to the sermons delivered by Protestant pastors. There are also some among them who have a relationship to modern education, but that does not help them with their pulpit sermons. What is presented there today as spiritual nourishment is truly such that one must say: it is antediluvian; it has absolutely no connection whatsoever with what the times in any way demand, with what could in any way give strength to the times. It is, however, connected to a certain other aspect of our intellectual culture—that aspect which causes the spiritual life of a large part of contemporary humanity to take place entirely outside of reality. And this is perhaps the most significant sign of modern bourgeois philistinism—that the spiritual life of this bourgeois philistinism takes place outside of this reality, that all the talk of this bourgeois philistinism actually stands outside of reality.

[ 26 ] That is why only those phenomena are possible that one usually does not even notice, but which, as symptoms, are deeply, deeply revealing. You see, you can read the literature of the war philistines for decades, and within that literature you will find Kant quoted time and time again. In recent weeks, many of these war philistines have turned into peace philistines, as we transition from war to peace. That doesn’t really mean anything special; what matters is that they have remained philistines, for, of course, the Stresemann of today is none other than the Stresemann of six weeks ago. Today, of course, it is once again customary to quote Kant as the man of the peace-loving philistines. This is divorced from reality. People have no connection to that which they claim nourishes them intellectually.

[ 27 ] This is one of the most characteristic features of the present day. And so it was possible for the remarkable fact to arise that a truly immense intellectual wave, set in motion by Goetheanism, has in fact remained completely misunderstood. This is the pain that can overcome one today in the face of the catastrophic events of the present; the pain can overwhelm one: What is to become of this wave, which was one of the most important in the fifth post-Atlantean epoch? What is to become of this wave given the current global mood?

[ 28 ] In contrast, one might say: It is of some significance to decide to call that which is intended to engage specifically with the most important impulses of the fifth post-Atlantean epoch the “Goetheanum,” regardless of whatever may come to pass regarding this institution known as the Goetheanum. — The point is not that this institution has borne the name Goetheanum for so many years, but that the idea once existed to use the name Goetheanum precisely during the most difficult of times.

[ 29 ] Precisely because of the fact I have mentioned to you, Goetheanism, in its isolation, can—or could have—become something quite special for a person, especially if one lived in Austria during the period in question, where so little concerned one. For if people had regarded it as something that concerned them, then the present era would not have come to pass, and these catastrophic events would not have occurred. One might say: This and much else shaped individual personalities in German-Austria—for the broad masses are, after all, under the terrible pressure of Counter-Reformation Catholicism—but it enabled individual personalities to unite Goetheanism with their souls in a profound way. I myself—as I have often mentioned—came to know one such Austrian in Karl Julius Schröer, who was active in Austria; but I would like to say that, in everything he did, in every field in which he was active, it was the Goethean impulse from which he drew his inspiration. History will one day piece together what people like Karl Julius Schröer thought about Austria’s political necessities in the second half of the 19th century—people who found no one willing to listen to them, but who, in a certain sense, knew how to avert the “present” that was bound to come precisely because they found no one willing to listen to them.

[ 30 ] When one then entered the German Empire, yes, there above all one had the impression that, even though one had grown up with Goethe, one could actually find nowhere an open heart for such a bond. I arrived in Weimar in the fall of 1890, and I recently described to you the beautiful aspects of Weimar; but for what I carried in my soul for Goethe at that time—I had, after all, already published my first major work on Goethe—I actually found very, very little understanding, very little heartfelt understanding there, precisely because it was the spiritual aspect of Goethe. There was a completely different life there, both outwardly and within the outward—or in the outward aspect of the inner, if you prefer to put it that way—than anything connected with the Goethean impulses. These Goethean impulses are, in fact, completely unknown in the very broadest circles; unknown, in particular, and utterly unknown among the professors of literary history who give lectures at universities on Goethe, Lessing, Herder, and the like; unknown among all the philistines who have perpetrated those dreadful Goethe biographies within German literature. I could only take comfort in all the dreadful drivel that has been written and printed about Goethe, through Schröer’s publications and through Herman Grimm’s beautiful book, which came into my hands relatively early on. But Herman Grimm, for example, is certainly not taken seriously by the university crowd. They say he is a stroller in the realm of intellectual life, not a serious scholar.

[ 31 ] Of course, no true university scholar has ever bothered to take Karl Julius Schröer seriously; he is always treated merely as a trifle. Yes, I could elaborate on this chapter in many different ways. But one must not forget, in all of this, that literature, with all its various branches—even into those branches that one might respectfully call “journalistic”—sends forth its currents: the bourgeoisie, which has been sinking into a quagmire in recent decades, the bourgeoisie that has fallen completely asleep, the bourgeoisie that has no connections— — as “journalistic,” the bourgeoisie—which has been sinking into stagnation in recent decades, the bourgeoisie that has fallen completely asleep, and which, when it engages in intellectual life, has no connection to the true substance of that intellectual life—sends its currents. Starting from such premises, one cannot, of course, approach Goetheanism in any meaningful way. For Goethe himself is, in the best and truest sense of the word, the most modern spirit of the fifth post-Atlantean epoch.

[ 32 ] Just consider what it is about Goethe that is truly distinctive and characteristic. First, his entire worldview—which can be taken to even greater spiritual heights, higher even than Goethe himself could reach—rests on a solid foundation of natural science. There is no sound worldview today that cannot be grounded in the natural sciences. That is why there is so much scientific content in the book with which I concluded my Goethe studies in 1897, and which has now been republished in a new edition for reasons similar to those behind the new edition of *The Philosophy of Freedom*. The philistines said back then—back when my books were still being reviewed—: “He calls this ‘Goethe’s Worldview’; he should really say ‘Goethe’s View of Nature.’” — Well, of course, those who were disguised Goethe scholars or the like—literary historians, philosophers, or the like—did not realize that what is truly Goethe’s worldview can only be presented by laying the solid foundation of Goethe’s view of nature. A second characteristic of Goethe—which in turn makes him the most modern spirit of the fifth post-Atlantean epoch—is the way in which, within his inner constitution, that peculiar inner spiritual path takes shape, leading from an intuitive view of nature to art. One of the most fascinating problems in the study of Goethe is to trace this connection between the perception of nature and artistic activity, artistic creation, and artistic imagination within Goethe’s own soul. One encounters not hundreds, but thousands of questions—questions that are not pedantic theoretical ones, but rather questions full of life—when one considers this entirely unique, remarkable path that always unfolds in Goethe whenever he approaches nature artistically, yet no less in accordance with its reality, and when he works in art in such a way that, to use his own words, one senses in his art something like a continuation—on a higher level—of the divine creation of nature itself.

[ 33 ] A third aspect that is so characteristic of Goethe’s worldview is the way he places human beings within the entire universe, how he sees in human beings the blossom, the fruit of the entire rest of the universe, and how he is constantly striving not to view human beings in isolation, but rather to view them in such a way that the human being stands there and, as it were, is permeated by the entire spirituality that underlies nature, and the human being, with his soul, serves as the stage upon which the spirit of nature beholds itself. But an infinite number of things are connected to these thoughts—expressed in such abstract terms—when they are pursued in concrete terms. And all of this is, after all, merely the solid foundation upon which what can lead to the highest heights of supersensory, spiritual contemplation—especially in the present age—can then be built. When one points out today that the world has failed to engage with Goethe—which it has—and that the world has failed to establish any kind of relationship with Goetheanism, well, this is truly not done to berate the world, to scold it, or to criticize it, but only to urge it to develop such a relationship with Goetheanism. For this Goetheanism, carried forward, means precisely an entry into anthroposophically oriented spiritual science. And without anthroposophically oriented spiritual science, the world cannot emerge from its current catastrophic situation. In a certain sense, the surest way to begin, if one wishes to enter into spiritual science, is to start with Goethe.

[ 34 ] All of this is connected to something else as well. I pointed out to you earlier that this broad intellectual life, which develops from the pulpit and which for many people then becomes a lie they live by—a lie of which they are completely unaware—is, in fact, antediluvian. Equally antediluvian, in essence, is the academic scholarship of all university departments. Yet this becomes an anomaly—a historical anomaly—in a field where Goetheanism exists alongside it. For another distinctive feature of Goethe’s personality is his immense universality, which extends so far that, certainly, Goethe scattered only faint seeds across the most diverse fields; yet these can be cultivated everywhere, and as they are cultivated, they become something so great—they contain within themselves the seeds of something so great—that it is the great modernity, of which, however, humanity wants to know nothing; in contrast to this, in its constitution and mindset as it stands, modern university education is the antediluvian element. This modern university education is an outdated relic, even if it incorporates this or that new discovery and so on. But alongside it there is a neglected, genuine spiritual life: Goetheanism. Goethe is, in a certain sense, the Universitas litterarum, the secret Universitas, and the illegitimate prince in the realm of spiritual life is contemporary university education. But everything external that you experience—everything that has led to the current global catastrophe—all of this external reality is, after all, an external result of what is taught at the universities. People today talk about this or that in politics, about this or that figure; people talk about the emergence of socialism; people talk about the good and bad aspects of art; people talk about Bolshevism and so on; people fear that this or that might arise; people see this or that person standing in one place or another, there are people who, six weeks ago, said the exact opposite of what they are saying today. All of this exists. Where does all of this come from? Ultimately, from the educational institutions of the present! Everything else is, in essence, secondary and trivial talk that fails to recognize that the axe must be laid to the very root of so-called modern education itself. What good will it do if so-called clever ideas are developed here and there, if one does not realize where the break must actually be made?

[ 35 ] I mentioned earlier that certain things were none of my business. I can tell you something else that was none of my business. When I went from middle school to college, I heard all sorts of things and signed up for all sorts of courses. They were all things that were none of my business, because nowhere could one sense the impulse of what is truly connected to the evolution of our age. And without wanting to sound silly—I did, after all, recently recount how I was kicked out of everywhere—I may say that, above all, I felt a certain affinity for that “universitas” that is Goetheanism, precisely because Goethe, in essence, while going through his university education, was also going through something that, in reality, was none of his business. In Leipzig, at the university of that time in what was then the Kingdom of Saxony, Goethe paid very little attention to what he could hear there, and later, in Strasbourg, he again paid very little attention to what he could hear there. And yet, all of this—even the most artistic of the artistic in Goethe—rests on solid ground, rooted in the strictest view of nature. Goethe, in defiance of the entire university system, grew into the most modern impulses of knowledge as well. That is what one must not lose sight of when speaking of Goetheanism. That is what I would have liked to bring to people’s awareness in my Goethe studies and also in my book *Goethe’s Worldview*. I would have liked to bring the real Goethe to people’s awareness. However—the times were not ripe for it. There was, so to speak, a significant lack of a receptive audience. I mentioned recently that there were initial signs of this; they were present in Weimar, after all—the groundwork was, in a sense, laid there. But nothing substantial took root on that ground, and those who were positioned there pushed aside the others who could have stood on that ground. If the modern era were imbued even a little with Goetheanism, it would embrace spiritual science with longing, for Goetheanism prepares the ground for the reception of spiritual science. Then, in turn, this Goetheanism would become the method for a genuine healing of the people of the present. Indeed, one must not view the life of the present time superficially!

[ 36 ] When I gave the lecture in Basel yesterday, I couldn’t help but think: What really needs to be said is that there could be no honest scientist today who, if he were to consider the matter, would not admit it. — If he were to engage with it! What holds the matter back are not logical reasons, but rather that brutality which, as brutality, has brought about the current catastrophe in all areas of the civilized world. Of course, a fact such as this always remains deeply symbolic: that there is a Goethe Society which, a few years ago, had nothing better to do than to appoint a former, failed finance minister as its president—a true symptom of how disconnected people are from what they believe they are honoring. This finance minister—who, as I mentioned recently, perhaps symptomatically bears the first name “Kreuzwendedich”—naturally believes in the life-long lie he is caught up in, namely that he venerates Goethe, because he can have no idea—given the state of contemporary education, he simply cannot have any idea—how far, how—one might invoke cosmic distances, stellar distances or something of the sort—if one were to measure that remoteness in any way at all—at which this president of the Goethe Society stands even in relation to the most elementary tenets of Goetheanism.

[ 37 ] This era was, of course, not intended to provide any kind of introduction to the essence of Goetheanism. For Goetheanism is not a national phenomenon; Goetheanism is not a German phenomenon. As I have shown you, this Goetheanism draws its inspiration from Spinoza—who, after all, was no German—from Shakespeare—who, after all, was no German—and from Linnaeus—who, after all, was no German. And Goethe himself says that these three figures, of all figures, had the greatest influence on him, and he is certainly not mistaken in this. Anyone who knows Goethe knows how justified this is. But Goethe was here—Goetheanism could be here! Goetheanism could prevail in all human thought, could prevail in religious life, could prevail in every branch of science, could prevail in the social structures of human coexistence; Goetheanism could prevail in political life—Goetheanism could prevail everywhere. And today the world listens to the windbags—Eucken or Bergson, whatever their names may be in the most diverse fields. I certainly do not wish to speak of any political windbags, for in this realm, in the present day, the adjective has become almost identical to the noun.

[ 38 ] In the face of the alienation of today’s intellectual machinery from reality—which is ultimately what was intended here, and which will be so intensely hated in the future that its completion is, of course, highly problematic, especially at the present moment—what was intended here stands as a living protest. And this protest cannot be expressed more beautifully than by saying: What has been intended here is a Goetheanum. — In a sense, speaking of a Goetheanum here is a commitment to the most important characteristics and also to the most important demands of the present. And this Goetheanum was intended, at the very least, to stand out from the midst of the present philistine world—that is to say, the present so-called civilized world.

[ 39 ] Of course, if it were up to many of our contemporaries, one might say it would have been wiser to say “Wilsonianum,” for that is, after all, the banner of our time. That is, after all, what the world currently wishes to submit to—and will likely do so.

[ 40 ] Well, it may seem strange to some if someone were to come along today and say: “The only remedy for Wilsonism is Goetheanism.” — Then those who think they know better will say: “That’s just an ideologue talking!” — Well, who are these people who coin the phrase: “That’s a person out of touch with reality”—who are they, exactly? It is these people who are so attuned to the world who have brought about today’s world order, who have created today’s world order; they are the ones who have always considered themselves particularly practical; they are the ones who, naturally, rebel against what must be spoken from the very depths of reality: The world will fall ill with Wilsonism; the world will need a remedy in all areas of life, and that remedy will be Goetheanism!

[ 41 ] And if I may conclude with a personal remark regarding this interpretation of my book on Goethe, *Goethe’s Worldview*, which has now been published in a second edition: Due to a strange chain of circumstances, this book isn’t here yet—after all, we’re still, aren’t we, especially these days, a bit too willing to make concessions. Some time ago—months ago, in fact—practical-minded people suggested to us that the books *Philosophy of Freedom* and *Goethe’s Worldview* be sent here directly from the printer, so they wouldn’t have to make the detour to Berlin and take so long to arrive. And one does suppose that these practical people know what they’re doing. Well, the *Philosophy of Freedom* was reported as having been shipped by the practical people, but it didn’t arrive here for weeks and weeks and weeks. People in Berlin had been able to get copies long ago; here, none were available because the practical people had taken care of the matter somewhere along the way, since we “impractical” people weren’t supposed to interfere. But what had happened to *The Philosophy of Freedom*? Well, here’s what had happened: The shipment had been arranged by the company’s “practitioners,” and they had been instructed to send it to Dornach near Basel. But this company—the gentleman in question who handled it—thought to himself: Dornach near Basel—that’s in Alsace—because there’s also a Dornach there, and that’s also near Basel—and since you don’t need to put international stamps on it there, we can just use German domestic stamps. — Well, as a result of these practical arrangements, the entire shipment ended up in Dornach in Alsace, where, of course, no one knew what to do with it. The matter had to be resolved by the “impractical” people, and finally, after many detours, once the “practical” person had deigned to realize that Dornach near Basel is not Dornach in Alsace, *The Philosophy of Freedom* arrived here. Whether “Goethe’s Worldview” was sent by some practical person from Stuttgart to Dornach near Basel, all the way around to the North Cape—perhaps to circle the globe and arrive back in Dornach—I do not know. But in any case, this was meant to be just one example that we experienced firsthand regarding the role of practical people in life, in the actual practice of living.

[ 42 ] So this, then, is what I was initially able to attempt on a personal level in the field that was closest to me—closest to me more because of circumstances than because of my inclinations—in order to truly serve the times. And I do believe, when I consider what connects me to the spirit of the times through my various books, that these books truly serve the times in a wide variety of fields. That is why they have also taught me just how much has actually been driven and undertaken against the spirit of the times in these last few decades. People may, in their brutality, believe as strongly as they like that something can simply be forced through: in truth, nothing can be forced through that runs counter to the spirit of the times. Many things that are in line with the spirit of the times can be held back! Well, if it is held back, it will find its way later, even if perhaps under a completely different name and in a completely different context. But I do believe that, among many other things, these books perhaps also have this quality: that through them one can see how, by observing the times, one can serve one’s own era. One can serve the times through everything—even the smallest, most elementary activity. One need only have the courage to turn to Goetheanism, which stands—like a *Universitas liberarum scientiarum*—beside what all people worship today, and the most radical socialists above all: the antediluvian university.

[ 43 ] It could very easily seem as if these remarks were meant personally; that is why I always hesitate to voice such things. Of course, one is then exposed to the cheap objection: “Ah, he didn’t become a university professor, so he’s railing against the universities”—well, one must simply put up with this cheap objection when one is compelled to point out that the real evil of our time does not affect those who raise this or that issue from some political, some specialized scientific, some economic, some religious, or some other perspective. The only ones who address the real issue at hand are those who point to the very worst dogma of infallibility—that dogma of infallibility which, through a fateful consensus of humanity, has led to everything being subordinated to what currently guides humanity: what are currently official scientific institutions, in which so much weeds—alongside a few good plants, of course—thrive. I certainly do not—just as I never mean the individual when I speak of states or nations—mean the individual university professor or the like. These may be excellent people; that is not the point: what matters is the nature of the institution.

[ 44 ] And just how bad this situation is can already be seen today in the fact that those schools that have begun to develop somewhat organically—the technical colleges—are now already adopting university-like airs and graces, and have thus, in effect, already taken a major step toward stagnation.

[ 45 ] Consider such discussions, as I have had again today, as a kind of interlude in our anthroposophical meetings. But I think that the present time is one that so strongly challenges our thoughts and feelings in this direction that such reflections should indeed be undertaken by us. We must undertake them in particular because, unfortunately, they are not being undertaken anywhere else.

[ 46 ] Yes, our present is still quite far, far removed from Goetheanism—which truly does not consist in the study of Goethe or in the mere pursuit of Goethe’s works—far removed from Goetheanism. Our present time has a desperate need to draw closer to this Goetheanism in all areas of life. It may seem ideological rather than practical to say this, but it is the very, very most practical thing in the present. Placing the various branches of life on the foundation of Goetheanism will lead to something entirely different from the rationalization—the only thing to which bourgeois society still manages to arrive in the present. And spiritual science—that will be found by those who stand on the foundation of Goetheanism. This is something one would like to pour into people’s hearts today with fiery words.

[ 47 ] I have been attempting this in a wide variety of ways for decades. But much of what has been spoken from the heart, in order to serve the times, has been treated by the times as an edifying Sunday afternoon sermon. For, when it comes down to it, the people who are so fond of slumbering in cultural complacency have wanted nothing more than Sunday afternoon sermons, haven’t they? It is so essential for humanity to seek out what is concretely required and necessary for our time! And above all, we must strive to bring this into our understanding, for understanding is what matters most of all today. After all, it is trivial to ask today, amid this immense confusion—which will soon become even greater—“What should the individual do?” — Above all, it is necessary to concern oneself with insight, so that infallibility—particularly in the area I was referring to today—may be steered onto the right course.

[ 48 ] And this little book, *Goethe’s Worldview*, was written primarily to show that there are two currents in the present day in the realm of all knowledge: one that thrives on decadence, which everyone adores, and one that contains the most fruitful seeds for the future, which everyone shuns. People have had all sorts of bad experiences in recent decades, certainly many through their own fault. But people should come to realize that with those of whom they are most proud—their schoolmasters—they have, in fact, already had the worst experiences and will have much worse ones yet. For now, however, humanity seems to need to first go through the experiences it is destined to have with the world’s schoolmaster, for the world has finally managed to install a schoolmaster as the world’s organizer! Joining the ranks of those windbags who have been spouting nonsense about the world based on academic drivel is now the one who is supposed to organize the entire world based on academic drivel.

[ 49 ] These words are spoken not to encourage pessimism, but to stimulate those impulses that set Goetheanism in opposition to Wilsonism. Nor are they motivated by any national sentiment, for Goethe himself is truly not a national spirit, but rather a very international one. The world should be protected from inflicting harm upon itself by substituting Wilsonism for Goetheanism.