The Rudolf Steiner Archive

Fourth Lecture

[ 1 ] Continuing the reflections we began here last time leads us today, first of all, to something that will serve as a prelude to the next two lectures. It leads us to take a look at the connection between the human being—the whole human being—and our planet Earth. I have often stated in various contexts that human beings are subject to a ‘kind of delusion’ when, as physical human beings, they attribute to themselves a complete, distinct existence separate from the Earth. As a spiritual-soul being, the human being is, of course, independent and individual. As a physical human being on Earth, they belong to the Earth in its organic wholeness, and in a certain sense also through their etheric body.

[ 2 ] Today I would like to begin by describing how this interconnectedness of the human being with earthly existence can appear to the supersensible eye. As a preliminary, I would like to proceed today—I might say—in a more narrative form. Let us simply suppose that someone, using the imaginative consciousness that I have often described, were to set out on a journey through the Ural Alps—through the Ural Alps with their rocks, which consist primarily of quartz-bearing, that is, silica-containing minerals and rocks, and which also contain other similar rocks. When we enter the primeval mountains, we encounter the hardest rocks on Earth, but also those rocks which, when they appear in their unique, primordial form, possess something pure within them—one might say, something untouched by the ordinary, everyday reality of the Earth. It is indeed easy to understand why Goethe, in a beautiful essay—which has already been mentioned here—speaks of his experiences within the primeval mountains; specifically, he describes how he feels a sense of solitude while sitting in the granite mountains, having, one might say, absorbed the impressions of this rock that rises from the earth, hard and taut, as it were, towering upward. And Goethe addresses the granite—which consists of quartz, that is, silicic acid, mica, and feldspar—as the enduring son of the Earth.

[ 3 ] When a person approaches this primeval rock with ordinary consciousness, it is true that at first they can admire it from the outside; they notice its forms, the whole wonderfully primitive sculptural quality, which is, however, extraordinarily evocative. But when a person then approaches this rock—one of the hardest on Earth—with imaginative consciousness, they penetrate beneath the surface of the mineral realm, precisely in this hardest of rocks. They are then able to grow, as it were, together with the rock through their thinking. One might say: the human soul extends deep into the very depths of the rock, and in spirit one actually enters as if into a sacred palace of the gods. To the imaginative gaze, the interior appears permeable, and the outer boundary appears like the walls of this divine palace. But at the same time, one realizes that within this rock lives an inner reflection of everything that exists in the cosmos outside the Earth. The world of the stars stands before the soul once more as a reflection within this hard rock. One ultimately gains the impression that within every such piece of quartz rock there is something like an eye of the Earth itself for the universe. One is reminded of the eyes of insects—those compound eyes—which are divided into many, many segments and break down whatever approaches them from the outside into many individual parts. And one would like to imagine—and indeed must imagine—that, since there are so many countless quartz and similar formations on the Earth’s surface, they are all like the Earth’s eyes, designed to internally reflect the cosmic environment and, in fact, to perceive it from within. And one gradually comes to realize that every crystalline formation present within the Earth is a cosmic sensory organ of the Earth.

[ 4 ] That is indeed the grandeur, the majesty of the snow cover—but even more so of the falling snowflakes—that in each and every one of these snowflakes there is a reflection of a large part of the cosmos; that, in fact, with the crystallized water, reflections of parts of the starry sky are falling down to Earth everywhere.

[ 5 ] I hardly need to mention that the starry sky is there even during the day; it’s just that, because sunlight is stronger, it isn’t visible during the day. If you have the opportunity somewhere to go down into a deep cellar topped by a tower that is open at the top, you can see the stars even during the day, because you are looking out from the darkness and the sunlight does not mislead you. Such an opportunity exists, for example, in a tower in Jena, where you can see the stars during the day. I mention this only in passing to help you understand that this reflection of the stars in snowflakes—and indeed in all crystallized matter—is naturally present even during the day. And it is not a physical reflection; it is a spiritual reflection. The impression that a person can gain from it must be conveyed inwardly.

[ 6 ] But that is not all. The—I would say—spiritual sensory impression one receives there becomes an emotional impression, namely, that as one immerses oneself imaginatively into the Earth’s crystalline shell, one merges with everything the Earth experiences from the cosmos within that crystalline shell. Through this, one expands one’s own being out into the cosmos; through this, one feels at one with the cosmos. And above all, it now becomes a truth—a profound truth—for the imaginative observer that what we call our earthly body, with all its details, was once born from the cosmos in the course of time. For the Earth’s kinship with the cosmos appears before the soul’s eye in the most profound sense. Thus, by immersing oneself in the Earth’s millions of crystal eyes, one is prepared to feel the Earth’s entire inner kinship with the cosmos and to experience it in one’s innermost being.

[ 7 ] But this, in turn, makes us feel connected to the Earth as human beings. For—and I will elaborate on this in particular over the next few days—this birth of the Earth from the cosmos took place at a time when human beings themselves were still quite primitive beings—not physical, but spiritual. But what the Earth then went through after it was born out of the cosmos—human beings experienced that same process in their own being, together with the Earth. It is truly the case with the Earth that it once had such an inner kinship with the all-encompassing cosmos as the very young, not-yet-born human being has with its mother’s body. But then the child begins to become independent. Thus the Earth developed independently after having been more at one with the universe during the first Saturn period. And humanity went through this process of developing independently—to such an extent that one learns to say to oneself: The finger I have on my hand is a finger only as long as it is a part of my organism; the moment I cut it off from the organism, it is no longer a finger—it withers and degenerates. — Thus, one need only imagine human beings as physical beings separated by a few miles from the Earth’s organism—they wither away, just like the finger I cut off. And the illusion that human beings, as physical beings, possess an independent existence in relation to the Earth stems solely from the fact that human beings can move freely about on the Earth, whereas the finger cannot stroll across the rest of the organism. If the finger could walk about the rest of the organism, it would succumb to precisely the same illusion with regard to human beings as human beings, as physical beings, succumb to an illusion with regard to the Earth. It is precisely through higher knowledge that this belonging of the physical human being to the Earth becomes clear.

[ 8 ] First of all, I would say, it is the acquaintance one makes, through imaginative consciousness, with the hardest part of the Earth's crust.

[ 9 ] One can make another discovery by going a little deeper into the earth, and by encountering there all that constitutes metal veins, metal deposits, or anything metallic within the earth. There, one descends beneath the Earth’s surface. But as one approaches the metallic elements, one encounters a very special essence that stands apart from the rest of the Earth. Metals possess an independent quality. Metals can be experienced as independent entities. And this experience, you see, has a great deal to do with human beings.

[ 10 ] Even someone who has already attained a certain higher level of insight through imaginative vision is still not fully acquainted with the subject when they experience the quartz and other rocks of the primordial mountains in such a way that, becoming one with the millions of eyes of the Earth, they thereby live themselves out, feel themselves out, and sense themselves out into the entire cosmos. But when they then approach the Earth’s interior, the first impulses toward such an experience can, I would say, be provided by truly allowing oneself to be inspired by the wondrous, profound impressions found in metal mines. But once one has these impulses, all that is needed is spiritual vision to be able to trace the metallic element everywhere, even if one does not enter the earth’s boreholes.

[ 11 ] But the first sense of what I mean can already be gained—or at least should be gained—with particular intensity in metal mines. Even the metal miners—it’s not like that anymore, but a few decades ago it still was—the metal miners who are deeply attuned to their profession reveal something of, I would say, a deep sense of the spiritual in the metallic. For metals not only gaze upon the cosmos around them, but they speak: they speak in a spiritual way, yet they narrate; they speak. And they speak in such a way that the language they use is very similar to the one one still perceives as an impression in another realm.

[ 12 ] You see, when one reaches the point of establishing a spiritual connection with people who are in the process of transition between death and a new birth—as I have often mentioned here—one needs a special language to do so. The claims of spiritualists are, after all, childish in this regard; they are childish because the dead do not speak the language of earthly humans. Spiritualists are under the impression that the dead speak in such a way that one can write down their words, just as if one were receiving a letter from a contemporary living on Earth. Admittedly, what emerges during spiritualist séances is usually more bombastic, but sometimes even contemporaries living on Earth write such bombastic things. That is simply not the case. First, it is necessary, so to speak, to fully attune oneself to the language spoken by the dead—a language that bears no resemblance to any earthly language, one that does indeed have a vowel-consonant structure but is not similar to any earthly language. But the same language—which can be perceived only with the spiritual ear—is the language spoken by the metals within the Earth. And the same language through which one can approach the souls themselves who live between death and a new birth—that same language recounts the Earth’s memories, the things the Earth has gone through during its passage through Saturn, the Sun, the Moon, and so on. One must let the metals tell us what the Earth’s destinies were. The destinies of the entire planetary system—as I have already mentioned—are revealed by what Saturn has to communicate to the planetary system in which we find ourselves. The metals of the Earth speak of what the Earth experienced during this process.

[ 13 ] The language spoken by the Earth’s metals, however, can also take two forms. When this language takes its ordinary form, so to speak, what is revealed is precisely what the Earth has undergone in its development, beginning with the Saturnic era. What you find in my Occult Science regarding this development came about, for the most part, in the very way I have often described. It arose through direct spiritual perception of the processes. This is a somewhat different way of exploring Earth’s processes than the one I have in mind now. For the metals speak more—if I may put it that way, though it is, of course, a somewhat strange way of expressing it—the metals speak more of the Earth’s personal experiences, of what the Earth has experienced as a person within the cosmos. And so, if I were to take greater account of the narratives of the metals—which can be perceived through spiritual penetration into the Earth’s interior—I would also have to describe many details of the Saturn, Sun, and Moon eras, and so on. For example, the first thing that would then emerge is that in these Saturn forms—which you will find described in my Occult Science—forms consisting of differences in temperature, powerful, gigantic beings of heat come to the fore, beings of heat that already attained a certain density during the ancient Saturn era. So, if I were to put it bluntly, I could say: If it were possible—though it cannot happen—but if it were possible for an earthly human to encounter these beings, they would sense them and could even touch them. Thus, during a certain period—the middle Saturn era—they are not merely spiritual beings; they are beings that manifest a physical existence; however, one would get burn blisters if one were to touch them. It would be a mistake to believe that they have, say, a temperature of millions of degrees; that is not the case, but they possess such an internal temperature that one would get blisters from touching them.

[ 14 ] Then we would have to speak of the Sun Period, of how, within the forms I described for the Sun Period in my Occult Science, other beings appear that undergo wondrous transformations and metamorphoses. And simply by observing and contemplating these metamorphosing entities, one gets the impression that, for example, the metamorphoses described by the classical writers—Ovid, for my part—have something to do with this experience of the messages of the metals; certainly not directly or immediately. Ovid was certainly not someone who understood the language of the metals directly himself, and what he describes in his Metamorphoses does not fully correspond to the impression one receives; but it is derived from it in a certain way. And the process underlying it can even be hinted at to a high degree.

[ 15 ] You see, even Paracelsus—a figure who lived much later than the one I’m referring to now—did not attend college to learn the most important thing he wanted to learn. I’m not saying he didn’t attend university; he certainly did, and I have absolutely no objection to attending university in any way. But to learn the most important things he wanted to learn, Paracelsus didn’t go to college; instead, he went wherever people could teach him something more meaningful. And he even sought out people such as, for example, metal miners, and acquired a large part of his knowledge in this way.

[ 16 ] Anyone who, I would say, is somewhat familiar with the art of acquiring knowledge knows how incredibly enlightening a simple remark from a farmer—someone who deals with sowing and harvesting and everything that goes along with it—can sometimes be. You might say: “Yes, but he doesn’t understand that.” It needn’t concern you whether the person saying it understands it; just understand it yourself as you listen to him. That’s what matters. Certainly, in very few cases will the person who says this actually understand it; it is an instinct. And even more profound insights can be gained from creatures that understand absolutely nothing of what they tell us: from beetles and butterflies, from birds, and so on.

[ 17 ] Well, what could be explored—particularly in the mines of the Near East—through the language of the metals was, for example, studied very, very thoroughly by Pythagoras during his travels, and from there, much, much of it found its way into what later became Greco-Roman culture. And then it appears in a diluted form in works such as Ovid’s Metamorphoses. That is one aspect, one form of the language of the metals within the Earth.

[ 18 ] The other form—as grotesque as it may sound, it is a truth—the other form is this: where the language of metals begins to develop cosmic poetry, where it transitions into the poetic. There, cosmic imagination does indeed emerge in the language of metals. And then, from this cosmic poetry, resounds what constitutes the most intimate relationships between metals and human beings. Such intimate relationships between metals and human beings do indeed exist. The crude relationships known to physiology actually pertain only to a few metals. We know that iron plays a major role in human blood; but among this class of metals, it is really only iron. Then potassium, calcium, sodium, and magnesium also play a certain role—that is, a certain number of metals. But a larger number of important metals—important for the structure of the Earth, important for the functioning of the Earth—seem, to the coarse, external observer, to play no role in the human organism. But this is only apparent. When you go into the Earth and learn the language of the metals there, you will also come to recognize how the metals are truly not merely within the Earth, but how they are—albeit in an immensely fine distribution, if I may put it that way—in a distribution far finer than homeopathic, everywhere, even in the Earth’s surroundings.

[ 19 ] And you see, in a broad sense, we cannot have lead within us; in a subtle sense, we cannot exist without lead. For what would a human being be if lead from the cosmos, from the atmosphere, did not act upon him; if lead, in an infinitely fine dispersion, did not penetrate his skin through his eyes along with the sun’s rays; if lead did not enter us through breathing and in an infinitely fine dispersion through our food? What would a human being be without the lead acting within him?

[ 20 ] A person would have sensory perceptions even without the lead; they would perceive colors, they would perceive sounds, but in this perception of colors and sounds, they would live as if they were slightly out of themselves, as if they were fainting a little with every perception. Humans would never be able to step back from their perceptions and reflect in thought or imagination on what they have perceived. If we did not absorb lead—as mentioned—in ultra-homeopathic dilutions directly into our nervous system and, most of all, into our brain, we would be at the mercy of all sensory perceptions as if they were something outside of us. We would be unable to conceptualize these sensory perceptions, nor would we be able to retain the mental images of memory within ourselves without the sensory perceptions. This is the effect of the finely dispersed lead in our brain.

[ 21 ] Lead, when introduced into the human organism in large quantities, causes the terrible condition known as lead poisoning. But anyone who understands the connection can see, precisely from lead poisoning, that lead—because, when introduced into the human organism in large quantities, has an extraordinarily harmful effect, is—in its finest, ultra-homeopathic dilution—precisely what causes a person to die off at every moment exactly as much as is necessary for them to be a conscious being, so that they do not continually render themselves powerless through ceaseless sprouting, sprouting forth, growing, and flourishing. For it is precisely in sprouting, in being overwhelmed by the pure forces of growth, that a person falls into a state of powerlessness.

[ 22 ] It is therefore the case that human beings have connections to all metals, even those not mentioned in general physiology. Knowledge of these connections is the foundation for a genuine, authentic, and true form of therapy. And only the language that is the poetic language of the metals within the earth can provide an intimate understanding of the relationships between metals and human beings. Thus, one can say: The ordinary language of the metals teaches us about the earth’s own destiny; the metals teach us about their healing relationships with human beings when they become poetic in their language, when they take on a poetic character.

[ 23 ] That is actually a curious connection. From a cosmic perspective, medicine is cosmic poetry; indeed, many of the world’s mysteries lie in the fact that what is pathological or leads to pathology on one level of the world is, on another level, the highest, the most perfect, and the most beautiful.—Well, this becomes apparent when inspired insight touches upon the Earth’s metal veins, upon the Earth’s metallic nature.

[ 24 ] But we can also enter into a different relationship with metals. We can enter into the relationship with metals that reveals itself to us when the metals are subjected to natural forces, such as fire or similar natural forces. Just consider for a moment how strangely the so-called gray spike ore is formed. It is composed of individual spikes, and its structure reveals that it follows certain directions of force in its formation—directions of force that are at work in the cosmos. This gray spike ore, antimony ore, also has the property that, for example, during certain processes it becomes antimony mirror, where—in a peculiar way—after undergoing a process of fire or heat, it adheres to glass, becomes reflective, and develops a special power in this reflection. It also exhibits other properties, such as explosions, when it is treated electrically in a certain way and then brought to the cathode. All these properties of gray spike luster show us how such a metallic substance behaves in relation to the forces of the Earth and the Earth’s environment. But this can be observed in all metals. All metals can be observed in fire, and it is precisely in fire that they develop—at ever-higher and higher temperatures—to the point where they first transition into that “super-homeopathic” state I have spoken of. However, they do not remain at that high temperature but take on a completely different form. In this regard, what our physicists imagine is indeed the most schematic concept one can conceive. The physicist imagines that when lead is melted, it becomes softer and softer. That is indeed correct at first; it becomes softer and softer, the temperature rises higher and higher, and the lead itself becomes hotter and hotter, while at the same time becoming more and more volatile—one gets lead vapors and so on. But we do not know that something is constantly settling out, something is separating off that no longer rises above a certain temperature at all. It is precisely the finest, “super-homeopathic” aspect of the lead that continually passes into—I would say—the general, invisible life, and it is this that then acts upon human beings.

[ 25 ] And this is actually always the case. If you imagine the Earth: down there you have all kinds of metals, but in a finely dispersed state, these metals are also present everywhere up here; I would say that the metals evaporate in a subtle way. So down there, beneath the Earth, the metals exist within defined contours, in a self-contained form—though as we go deeper, they take on a fiery, fluid nature; but in the Earth’s surroundings, they are in a finely dispersed state, and there they manifest as a continuous radiation, so that a stream of radiation actually extends out into outer space. The metals radiate out into outer space. But the fact is that there is an inner elasticity in outer space. The forces that radiate outward do not, as physicists imagine light rays to do, extend everywhere without limit; rather, they go only as far as a certain boundary and then return. And one can view the reflective forces of metals as if they were returning from the periphery of the universe, reaching everywhere. And one realizes that these reflective forces are at work precisely where, within human life, the most glorious and wondrous things confront us: when the child learns to walk, speak, and think in the early stages of earthly life.

[ 26 ] In particular, the way in which the child rises from crawling to orient itself in the world is among the most wondrous things one can observe in earthly life—this coming into its own by the child, by the human being. At work within the forces—which I have often described—that enable the child to orient itself, the reflective forces of the metals are at work. And as the child learns to raise itself from its horizontal position while crawling, it is permeated by the metallic reflective force. It is this force that actually raises the child up. When one understands this connection, one simultaneously gains insight into another aspect. This is the realization that one comes to understand the connection between the human being—as they live here on Earth in their actions and in their nature—and their previous earthly life. These are the same abilities: to perceive the mode of action of the metals in the cosmos and the karmic connection between successive earthly lives. One goes hand in hand with the other, and one cannot exist without the other. These are the same abilities. And that is why I once said to you, in a completely different context: In this orienting power, in the child’s process of raising itself up—from crawling to walking to standing—and in learning to speak and think, lies that which works its way in from previous earthly lives. I expressed it this way at the time: Anyone with a sense for this can see, in the way the child takes its first steps, in the way it walks—whether it tends to step with the toes first, whether it tends to step with the heels first, whether it bends its knees more or less strongly in this or that way—in all of this, the person with an eye for it sees a karmic determination from a previous earthly life; this is first evident in the gait. I once described it. The reason for this is that along with the ability to perceive the reflective power of metals comes the ability to see through the connection between a person’s present earthly life and their past earthly lives.

[ 27 ] It is certainly true that it is really quite unfounded when people say: “Anthroposophy cannot be proven.” They are accustomed to proving things in such a way that sensory perception is presented as evidence in every case. It’s just like when someone says: “What, are you telling me that the Earth moves freely through space? That’s not possible; it must have a base, it must be resting on something, otherwise it would fall down.” — Yes, the celestial bodies simply support one another. And it is only in the context of conditions on Earth that one can say everything must have a foundation. Thus, it is only for truths that belong to ordinary consciousness that one can say evidence must be developed, just as one demands that proof be provided. The truths that pertain to the spirit simply support one another. But one must also sense this mutual support.

[ 28 ] Weeks ago, I told you how, by observing the way a child—or any person, for that matter—walks—whether they lift their toes or heels first, step heavily or lightly, bend their knees deeply, or are more accustomed to standing stiffly, and so on—one can see in this the manifestation of their karma from a previous earthly life. Today I will show you how the reflective power of metals enables one to recognize how earthly lives are to be viewed in their entirety. From this you will discern two truths that support one another. But it is always the case that we hear a truth once, then other things come in between; then we hear the same truth again from a different perspective, perhaps even a third time—and thus the truths of anthroposophy support one another, just as in the cosmos the celestial bodies mutually support and sustain one another without needing any foundations. This must necessarily be the case when one ascends from the truths that apply only to ordinary consciousness to those truths that stand in the world as essential entities in their own right. And what stands in the world as an essential entity is precisely that which is to be grasped in anthroposophical knowledge.

[ 29 ] One must simply hold together what is said at various times—and what truly supports one another, attracts one another, and perhaps even repels one another—so that the inner life of anthroposophical knowledge may be revealed. For anthroposophical knowledge lives through itself. The other forms of knowledge that are commonplace today live through something else—through the foundations upon which they rest. Anthroposophical knowledge, however, sustains itself through itself.

[ 30 ] My dear friends! Today I would just like to announce that we will have another eurythmy performance next Sunday at 5:00 p.m.—once again, a performance like the ones we had while we were in Holland, performed half by the ladies and half by the younger friends here. And once again, this will be linked to the very commendable purpose of using the proceeds to gradually build up a collection of men’s eurythmy costumes and so on, so that the men can get their proper eurythmy costumes and the world can then gradually grow into a kind of men’s eurythmy. So that will be on Sunday at 5 o’clock. The next two lectures will be tomorrow at 8 a.m. and Sunday at 8 a.m.