The Rudolf Steiner Archive

Second Lecture

[ 1 ] It was actually my intention to present to you today only factual information from the field of anthroposophy, since I already addressed here eight days ago what needed to be said about our painful event and other current matters concerning the Anthroposophical Society. However, I find it necessary to preface my remarks—at least briefly—with a few words on social matters within the Anthroposophical Society, because I was present yesterday at least during the second part of the meeting held here and observed how easily misunderstandings can arise regarding matters that are connected to the nature of the Anthroposophical Society, as I characterized it here eight days ago, and which, I believe, should be corrected as soon as possible. In a certain sense, therefore, what I have to say by way of introduction this evening will nevertheless be connected with the essence of the anthroposophical view of life and may perhaps contain a number of points that could be useful to one person or another.

[ 2 ] My primary concern is to build on what was said yesterday regarding the formation of judgment within the Anthroposophical Society. Regardless of what I myself say, individual members of the Anthroposophical Society have been called upon to form their own independent judgments on various matters, including those concerning the Society. Now, of course, nothing could be more justified than this. However, the point is that when such a demand is made—which, as I said, is, in principle, as justified as it can possibly be—and to the definition of which, as presented yesterday, I have not the slightest objection, which I merely wish to reaffirm—one must consider not only the content of what has been presented, but also the entire context in which such a matter is raised. Something may be true, but the question is whether, in a particular context, there is a reason to present a truth that may even be self-evident. One can present any truth in isolation; that is, of course, natural. But when a certain context exists, that truth takes on its immediate character from that context, and it is precisely the context in which such a truth is presented that can give rise to the worst misunderstandings.

[ 3 ] This view on the formation of judgment was put forward in connection with the lecture I gave on December 30 of last year in Dornach on the relationship between the Anthroposophical Society and the movement for religious renewal. And it was pointed out that members should remain independent in their judgment from whatever judgment I myself might offer. Well, as I said, that is entirely justified. But the way it was presented runs in the most profound sense counter to the very attitude that must necessarily follow from grasping the core of the anthroposophical worldview. For the anthroposophical worldview is not about turning our gaze away from one image of the world—which we can gain today through external culture—and directing it toward another image, which we then grasp in the same conceptual framework and the same mode of imagination as the first image, which is simply a different worldview; rather, — and this must surely be clear from the entire stance taken by the anthroposophical worldview — anthroposophy is not merely about thinking differently in many respects from what is usually thought, but above all about thinking this “other” in a different way and perceiving it in a different state of mind. A change in thinking and a change in feeling—that is what is necessary for anthroposophy, not merely thinking and feeling differently.

[ 4 ] Anyone inclined to examine the tone of the vast majority of my lectures will find that I adhere strictly to what I have just stated, and that it lies in the very nature of the anthroposophical worldview to present things in such a way that one’s own formation of judgment is not impaired in any way by this very manner of presentation. If you go through the majority of my lectures—even those dealing with a topic such as that of the lecture of December 30, 1922—you will find that the main content of all my lectures is the presentation of facts; that I present facts, facts from the supersensible world or, indeed, facts that originate in the sensory or historical world, and that I structure the presentation of these facts in such a way that, on the basis of these facts, the listener or reader is always able to form their own judgment, because I refrain from influencing that judgment even in the slightest. One of the lecture series held in Dornach even bears the subtitle: “Presentation of Facts Submitted for the Formation of Judgment”—or something to that effect. Because this is the case, what often happens is quite different from what one might say—that he has presented this or that as the correct view. Rather, the opposite occurs: one person draws this conclusion from my lectures, another draws that conclusion, and each believes they are right—and perhaps is right from their own point of view—because my aim is never to steer any judgment in a particular direction, but rather always to provide the factual basis for forming a judgment. I therefore quite deliberately expose myself to the risk that one person might read one thing into my series of facts, while another might read something else. For my sole concern is truly the communication of facts, and anyone inclined to observe things will see that I actually only express judgments when it comes to corrections or refutations.

[ 5 ] This must be so because a worldview such as the anthroposophical one must remain keenly aware of the historical context in which it is situated. We live in the age of the development of the conscious soul—that is, the inner state of the soul in which, above all else, it is essential that human beings, as individuals, form their own judgments based on the impulses of their souls, and that they learn to allow facts to take their course upon them in an unbiased manner, so that they may form their judgments out of full consciousness. The style of my presentations is rooted in this awareness of humanity’s entry into the development of the soul of consciousness. That is precisely why, as I said, one person may form one judgment and another may form another. I try to present the facts as clearly as possible. There is no question of what one “should” or “should not” do in any area. For anthroposophy is not meant for agitation; anthroposophy is meant for communicating the truth. I have often emphasized this in other contexts. I have emphasized that I do not advocate either a meat-based diet or vegetarianism. When I describe how vegetarianism affects people and how a meat-based diet affects people, I do so in order to present the truth, to present the facts. If a person is sufficiently familiar with the facts, they can form their own judgment in this age of the development of the soul of consciousness. It is indeed part of the very nature of the anthroposophical worldview that one is completely clear about this point.

[ 6 ] And so, back then on December 30, 1922, in Dornach, I simply tried to explain the relationship between the Anthroposophical Society and the Movement for Religious Renewal; in formulating my remarks, I did not orient myself toward the Movement for Religious Renewal, but rather toward the Anthroposophical Society. Based on this—I would say—perspective, and on my general principle of sticking to the facts as much as possible, this lecture from that time was written, and anyone who reads it will sense that. Whether one should do one thing or the other is entirely up to the free judgment of each individual; this will become clear from this lecture, and I did, in fact, express myself very clearly on this matter here eight days ago.

[ 7 ] It is therefore necessary, when making a responsible assertion in the field of anthroposophy, to take the broader context into account—that is, one must not, in connection with that which seeks to stand firmly on the ground of anthroposophy in the strictest sense, make the remark that one is forming a judgment independent of what Steiner says. For if Steiner is not on the defensive or otherwise compelled to correct one thing or another, he will always speak in such a way that, even after he has spoken, the individual is compelled to form his or her own judgment, because the possibility of forming a dependent judgment is not even available to him or her. Emphasizing this is far more important and essential for the entire anthroposophical mindset than what was emphasized here yesterday by some, and which, precisely because of its inappropriateness, can give rise to many seeds of misunderstanding. It is extraordinarily important that I bring this up here once and for all as something that belongs fundamentally to anthroposophy.

[ 8 ] But then there is something else to consider: When forming one’s own judgment, what matters is not merely that one is certain to have formed this judgment oneself, but just as much that one is certain, when expressing this judgment, that one has taken into account everything that could lead to the formation of such a judgment. After all, anyone can have their own judgment. One’s own judgment must be accurate, to the extent that it can be accurate given the possibilities for observing the underlying facts, or based on the necessity of ruling out facts that clearly cannot be true because they are not as they would have to be if the corresponding judgment were expressed. And so I must emphasize—I state explicitly that what I am saying today by way of introduction is said only out of a sense of duty, not out of personal inclination: If it was said yesterday that all sorts of reports about the other side—namely, about the religious movement—had reached Dornach, and that what I said might in some way have been influenced or nuanced by such reports, that is not correct. For quite independently—and anyone who wishes to approach the matter impartially will nevertheless recognize this—quite independently of such reports, this lecture has been composed. And the third point that has also been raised in connection with this lecture is that one side had the opportunity to speak about these matters, while the other did not. And if I am not mistaken, the Waldorf School teaching staff, for example, was mentioned as having always had the opportunity to speak with me about the matter. The truth is that I had not spoken with the Waldorf School teaching staff about the matter at all prior to this lecture. Once again, a judgment has been passed that does not correspond to the facts. One might think—since I naturally meet with the Waldorf school teaching staff more often—that I would have had more opportunities to discuss this matter with them. However, at such meetings, as is only natural, pedagogical and didactic issues form the substance of what is discussed. And above all, anthroposophical gossip certainly does not form part of the content of these discussions. I say that these matters must be emphasized as a matter of duty, because they are connected to the essence of anthroposophical work and because we are now in the very process of at least longing for what can bring about a certain recovery of anthroposophical work within the Anthroposophical Society. Of course, I could have demanded that the relevant authorities, who were in a position to do so, provide the necessary clarifications immediately after the movement for religious renewal was established within the Anthroposophical Society. That was not my responsibility. The person who heard my closing remarks—which I spoke after the religious renewal had been set in motion—in the proper manner knows this best. It is always very distressing for me when I am forced to deviate from stating the facts and to say things such as those I was compelled to say yesterday. But in this very moment, the full weight of everything connected with the anthroposophical work is bearing down on my soul. And if we do not do enough to correct precisely those misunderstandings that are not as easily noticed as the gross ones, then we simply will not make any progress in the anthroposophical work. And we must make progress in the anthroposophical work; otherwise, it would naturally remain the case that the Dornach building has burned down. A resumption of the work depends entirely on the Anthroposophical Society strengthening itself from within, on its freeing itself, above all, from those misunderstandings that strike at its very lifeblood. And its lifeblood is threatened, for example, when one fails to heed the principle involved in speaking—in the face of the demands of the spirit of the age regarding the development of the soul of consciousness—with true honesty, in the sense that I have indicated in my *Philosophy of Freedom* as the truly ethical approach of our time. I truly did not, at that time, lightly expose myself to the criticism that is, of course, leveled by the philistines against what I have put forward against the ethics of commandments. But every single one of my statements—and I always strive for this—is formulated in such a way that it strictly respects human freedom, even if only in relation to the formation of thought and feeling as intended in my *Philosophy of Freedom*. Therefore, I must point out that it is inappropriate, in connection with a lecture such as the one I gave on December 30, 1922, to raise the question of influencing the judgment of the members of the Anthroposophical Society. Certainly, this can be raised on many other, indeed numerous other occasions. But when it happens in connection with a lecture such as this, it gives rise to misunderstandings, because it obscures the truth that I strive for as a sacred principle: that no one’s judgment should be influenced regarding what I myself have to say as one of the most important matters within the Anthroposophical Society. In saying this, too, I merely wished to express my intentions: that the underlying principle of what I am trying to convey always amounts to not influencing anyone’s judgment. Therefore, in the context of my lecture, no one needs to be warned against retaining their freedom of judgment.

[ 9 ] Well, continuing in the same spirit in which I spoke earlier, I would like to begin today by saying a few words about the formation of a judgment in Spiritual Science in general—that is, a judgment that seeks to express a truth of Spiritual Science. It always strikes one in a very peculiar way when one notices how little sense there is of the seriousness with which truths of Spiritual Science are expressed. When it comes to forming any judgment within the everyday world that one observes through one’s senses, the goal is to arrive at that judgment through observation or logic at a specific point in one’s life. And it is entirely justified when, through observation and logic, one has arrived at such a judgment about things in the sensory or historical external world. In the case of Spiritual Science, however, it cannot actually be that way. There, it is not enough to have undergone the formation of a judgment just once; rather, something fundamentally different is necessary. What is necessary is what I would like to call the “double recasting” of the judgment. And this transformation generally does not occur over short periods of time, but mostly over long periods. One forms a judgment using the usual methods, which you are familiar with from my exposition in *How Does One Attain Knowledge of the Higher Worlds?* or from the second part of my *Esoteric Science*; through such methods, I say, one arrives at some judgment regarding spiritual processes or spiritual beings. One now actually has the obligation to keep this judgment to oneself for the time being, not to voice it. Indeed, one even has an inner obligation to treat this judgment within oneself in such a way that one initially accepts it as a mere fact and meets it neither with approval nor with rejection. Then, after some time—perhaps only after years—one will come to carry out the first transformation of this judgment within one’s own soul life, to deepen it, indeed to transform it in many respects. Even if the content of this judgment remains the same after this transformation, it will take on a different nuance of inner involvement—of inner warmth bestowed upon it, for example. In any case, after this initial transformation, it will become integrated into one’s inner life in a different way than when it was first formed, and after this initial transformation, one will have the feeling: You have, in a certain sense, separated yourself from the judgment. - If it takes years for this first remolding to occur, one cannot, of course, keep turning this judgment over and over in one’s soul. This judgment naturally sinks into the unconscious. This judgment leads a life of its own, independent of the ego. That is necessary. Such a judgment must lead an independent life, separate from one’s own ego. One must, so to speak, let such a judgment live on without one’s active involvement. In this way, one melts the egotism out of the judgment. One hands it over to that which is objective within oneself, whereas during the initial observation and the first logical formulation of the judgment, it is precisely the egotism—one’s own ego—that is always involved and plays a part. And then, when the judgment has been transformed for the first time—as I said, perhaps after years—one will notice: This judgment returns, coming to one from the depths of the soul just like any fact of the external world. One had lost it in the meantime; one finds it again. One rediscovers it in such a way that it now says to one: “You formed me imperfectly; you may have formed me erroneously at first; I have corrected myself.”—This is the judgment that the true scientist of Spiritual Science will seek: this judgment that unfolds its own life within the human soul. Patience—a great deal of patience—is essential for such a transformation of judgment, for, as I said, it is often only after years that this transformation can be brought about; and the conscientiousness that must be cultivated in Spiritual Science demands precisely that one not let oneself speak, but rather let things speak for themselves.

[ 10 ] But now, my dear friends, once a judgment has been recast in this way, one experiences—precisely in relation to this recast judgment, which, I might say, approaches one once again from a position of objectivity—the strong feeling that, even though one has allowed it to be objectively restated, one is still at one with this judgment within oneself. And it may still very well be the case that one feels completely unable to pass such a judgment on a matter pertaining to Spiritual Science. For one’s task is precisely to let things speak for themselves, and not to let oneself speak. Therefore, one waits for the second reshaping of the judgment, which may, under certain circumstances, take years. Thus, after the second reshaping of the judgment, one has a third form of the judgment. One will notice a significant difference between what takes place in the period between the first formulation of the judgment and the first reshaping, and between the first reshaping and the second reshaping. One will notice, in fact, that between the first formulation and the first reshaping, one can relatively easily bring the judgment back to ‘bring the judgment to mind.’ Between the first recasting and the second recasting, one has the greatest difficulty recalling the judgment, for it descends into the deepest, deepest recesses of the soul—recesses into which a judgment that has initially been slightly shaped by the external world does not penetrate at all. A judgment that has been remolded in this way sinks into the deepest recesses of the soul, and it is only when one then wishes to bring such a judgment back up into the soul between the first and second remoldings that one comes to realize how much struggle is often required to recall such a judgment. By “judgment” I now mean the perception of the entire fact, when it relates to a fact of Spiritual Science. And then, when one receives the judgment in its third form, one knows that this judgment has been present with the thing or the process to which it relates. The judgment between the first grasping and the first transmutation has still remained within oneself, but between the first and second transmutations, the judgment has sunk into the objective spiritual fact or the objective spiritual entity, and one realizes: the thing itself, in this third form, returns the judgment—which is precisely an insight—to one. And only now does one actually feel called upon, in the face of the facts of Spiritual Science, to communicate the insight or the judgment. One communicates only after having completed this twofold transformation and thereby gained the certainty that what one first perceived in the initial form has, through the soul itself, taken the path toward the facts, toward the things, and has returned from them once more. Indeed, a judgment that is validly rendered in the realm of Spiritual Science—such a judgment has first been skillfully directed toward the facts or entities about which it seeks to speak.

[ 11 ] You see, one will not be at odds with what I have just said if one correctly understands the descriptions of essential and significant facts in the Spiritual Science. Of course, if one reads *Cycles* the way one reads modern novels, one will not immediately recognize that the essential point—the actual proof—lies in this twofold recasting of judgment. And one will then say that this is merely an assertion, not proof. Yes, it is a different kind of proof than experience—but conscientious experience following the twofold recasting of the judgment—and no other proof can be demonstrated for the spiritual. For proving the spiritual consists in an experience. Understanding does not. According to common sense, understanding is accessible to everyone through a sufficient presentation. But this sufficient presentation must provide common sense with all the necessary points of reference from the very nature of the matter, so that it can be convinced, through this kind of presentation, that the truth of the given judgment is guaranteed by the “how” of that judgment.

[ 12 ] It always makes a most peculiar impression when people come along and say: Truths of Spiritual Science should be proven in the same way as, for example, assertions about external sensory facts. People who make this demand simply do not yet know the difference between what constitutes an insight in the spiritual realm and what constitutes an insight in the sensory or conventional historical realm. Anyone who becomes acquainted with anthroposophy will notice how each individual truth that is presented fits into the context of anthroposophy as a whole. And they will simply find, in what they have come to know within that context, a confirmation of any new truth they hear. And in turn, the new truth will have a reciprocal effect on what they have already heard. And so, becoming acquainted with anthroposophy is a continuous growth in the conviction of the truth of anthroposophy. One can be convinced of a mathematical truth in an instant, but that does not give it life. Anthroposophy is life; therefore, conviction is not completed in an instant—that is to say, it lives and continually grows. I would like to say that anthroposophical conviction is at first like a baby, where one is still quite uncertain, where one has almost only a belief—or just one belief; then, as one learns more and more, this conviction gradually grows and becomes more and more certain. This maturing of anthroposophical conviction is precisely a testament to its inner vitality.

[ 13 ] And this, too, shows not only how one perceives and thinks differently in the field of anthroposophy than in other fields common today, but also how one must think differently, perceive differently, feel differently, and be in a different frame of mind than in other fields. This different state of mind is the essence of understanding anthroposophy, and from this state of mind, anthroposophy can, I would say, extend its influence into the most diverse areas of life.

[ 14 ] This is something that, above all, those who have joined the anthroposophical movement—for example, as scientists—will have to take into account. As such scientists, they should not only strive to develop a worldview different from that pursued by so-called “external science,” but they should also be clear that, above all, they must bring the anthroposophical spirit and inner vitality into the most diverse fields of science. Then they would be much less likely to engage in polemics against the other sciences and would instead focus on developing within those other sciences precisely what cannot be developed without anthroposophy. I must emphasize this at a time when we are experiencing a crisis within the Anthroposophical Society—a crisis brought about in no small part by the behavior of scientific circles within the Anthroposophical Society. I must also emphasize here that the debate over atomism in *Die Drei* has led the scientific discussion down a dead-end track. For this dispute, this discussion, should never be conducted in such a way that—I would say—the same thought forms are bandied back and forth, and under certain circumstances, even the so-called opponent may be right on the most important points. What is at stake today is that, for example, the physical sciences, in their facts —if one takes them as they are, without polemicizing against them—provides precisely the most important foundation for the anthroposophical view, whereas polemicizing without incorporating the anthroposophical spirit leads precisely to a dead end, as it was bound to do and as it has done in the polemic that has unfolded in *Die Drei*.

[ 15 ] I would also like to emphasize this for another fundamental reason, so that it becomes clear that I am fully justified in saying, even in this regard: One cannot blame me for everything that is done in the field of anthroposophy! For I respect people’s freedom—but if anything leads to harm, then I must also have the freedom to form my own judgment and to express it. Complete independence must prevail in the field of anthroposophy, not some form of opportunism, and certainly not a camaraderie of the sort that is often the case even in the treatment of scientific questions.

[ 16 ] Well, my dear friends, I have said that when speaking about anthroposophy, one must always be clear that we are currently living in the stage of the development of the conscious soul; but this means that the rational and the intellectual have become the predominant states of the human soul. In fact—and the origins of this can be traced back to Anaxagoras in ancient Greece—in more recent times we have come to judge everything, including the results of observation, through the lens of intellectuality. And if you take what you have today as rational science—take the most rational of the sciences, the mathematical ones—but also take what exists in the other sciences through the rationalism that processes empirical data, then you can form a mental image of the actual content of thought in our time. But this intellectual content of our time—as even the youngest children absorb it in school, for that is indeed the case—this intellectual content of our time emerged, roughly speaking, at a specific point in the development of humanity. We can clearly point to the first third of the 15th century: it was then that this intellectualism first emerged with all its clarity. Previously, even when people engaged in so-called scientific thought, they thought much more in images that represented the growth forces of things themselves, rather than in abstract concepts, as we must do today as a matter of course. Now, these abstract concepts, which train us inwardly in pure thinking—as I have just discussed in my *Philosophy of Freedom*—these abstract concepts make it possible for us to become free beings. When people were not yet able to think in abstractions, they were determined and dependent in their entire state of mind. Human beings can develop freely only after they are no longer determined by anything internally, after moral impulses—you can read about this in my *Philosophy of Freedom*—can be grasped through pure thinking. But pure thoughts are not reality; they are images. Images cannot compel us; we ourselves must determine our actions; images have no coercive power. Humanity has developed, on the one hand, toward abstract thought and, on the other, toward freedom. I have described this from other perspectives on several occasions.

[ 17 ] But now, before humanity had progressed to the point of grasping abstract thought in earthly life—of attaining freedom in earthly life through the very same ability that enables it to grasp abstract thought—what was the situation for humanity back then? At that time, humanity did not grasp abstract thoughts in its earthly life between birth and death; even in ancient Greece this was not yet possible, let alone in earlier times. Humanity thought entirely in images and was therefore not endowed with the inner consciousness of freedom that has just emerged with pure—that is, abstract—thought. Abstract thought leaves us cold. What abstract thought gives us in terms of moral capacity warms us in the most intense sense, for it represents our human dignity in the highest sense.

[ 18 ] What was it like before the abstract idea of freedom came to humanity? Well, you know that when a person passes through the gate of death, in the first few days after leaving their physical body, they still possess their etheric body, and they see before them—as in a comprehensive retrospective, not in minute detail but in harmonious, universal images—the entire course of their life, as far as they can recall. This tableau of life remains before the recently deceased as a visual image for several days. Yes, my dear friends, that is how it is today. In the time when people here on Earth had these visual images, they had before them—immediately after death—what people today experience: the rational, logical grasp of the world that they lacked between birth and death, presented to them in retrospect. This is something that leads us, in the most profound sense, into an understanding of the human being. That which human beings from an earlier epoch of history—not just prehistoric times—only possessed after death: a brief retrospective in abstract terms and the impulse of freedom that thereby remained with them for the life between death and a new birth—this has gradually found its way into earthly life during the course of human evolution. It is one of the mysteries of existence that the supersensible continually finds its way into the sensible. What is now widespread throughout earthly life—the capacity for abstraction and freedom—was something that, in earlier humanity, only came into human possession after death along with this retrospective view, whereas today human beings possess rationality, intellectuality, and freedom during their earthly life between birth and death, and thus experience merely a pictorial retrospective after death. Thus, things interpenetrate one another. The concrete, supersensible reality continually interpenetrates the sensory realm.

[ 19 ] From this you can see how anthroposophy, purely objectively through the observation of the spiritual realm, derives the facts of which it speaks, and how, at first, nothing of subjective arbitrariness enters into the treatment of these facts. But once we have these facts, do they not affect our feelings, do they not influence our impulses of will? Can we say of anthroposophy that it is merely a theory? How theoretical does it sound when we merely say that modern man is the man of abstraction and freedom! How imbued with artistic sensibility and religious intimacy it becomes when we come to understand: That which gives us, as people of today, the freedom and the capacity for abstraction in this earthly life is precisely that which has been drawn from the heavenly worlds into the earthly ones through the gate of death—in a direction opposite to the one in which we ourselves travel when we pass through this gate of death. We pass through the gate of death out into the spiritual worlds. Our freedom and our capacity for abstraction are a heavenly gift that has flowed into the earthly worlds from the supersensible worlds. This imbues us with a sense of what we are as human beings, for it can deeply permeate us with the awareness not only that we carry something spiritual within us, but also where we have obtained this spiritual essence. We look toward death and say: What lies beyond this death—an earlier humanity came to know it in a very specific way after death; it has now entered our world, and the human being of the present comes to know it between birth and death. —- And as this heavenly element—intellectuality and freedom—has thus entered earthly life, a different way of looking up to the divine has become necessary for humanity than was previously the case. And this new way of looking toward the divine has become possible for humanity through the Mystery of Golgotha. By entering into earthly life, Christ can sanctify that which has entered from the supersensible worlds—and which would otherwise tempt people toward pride and all manner of evil. We live in a time when we must recognize that what is most sacred to us in this age—the ability to grasp pure concepts and the capacity for freedom—must be permeated by the Christ impulse. Christianity is not complete; its greatness lies precisely in the fact that the individual impulses of human development must gradually be imbued with this Christ impulse. Human beings must learn to think purely with Christ, to be free beings with Christ, because otherwise they will not perceive in the right way that which has been drawn from the supersensible world into the sensible world for them, in connection with the supersensible world. This is where we stand as human beings when we look within ourselves, and as modern people we know: the supersensible has been drawn into earthly life through the gate of death in the opposite direction to that in which we ourselves move when we pass through the gate of death. This is what is taking place within us as human beings. What is taking place in the world is that Christ, the Sun of the Spirit, has been drawn down from spiritual heights into earthly worlds so that what has been drawn from the supersensible into the sensible on a human level may find its place alongside what has been drawn from the supersensible into the sensible on a cosmic level, so that human beings may unite in the right way with the Spirit of the Cosmos. For only then can a human being stand in the world in the right way, when the spirit within him truly finds the spirit outside of him. The Spirit that lived beyond death for ancient humanity can be truly embraced by present-day humanity in earthly life only if human beings are simultaneously illuminated and bathed in the light of that which has descended to Earth as Christ from those worlds from which rationality, intellectuality, and freedom have been drawn down into human life between birth and death.

[ 20 ] Thus, anthroposophy begins everywhere with science, brings its mental images to life through art, and culminates in religious deepening; it begins with what the mind can grasp, approaches that which the word can shape in the broadest sense, and ends with that which imbues the heart with warmth and leads the heart to a sense of security, so that the human soul may always find itself in its true home, in the spiritual realm. Thus, on the path of anthroposophy, we are to learn to set out from knowledge, rise to art, and end in religious intimacy.

[ 21 ] The fact that people do not want this today is what creates anthroposophy’s opponents. These opponents have certain peculiarities. I have presented serious matters to you; since the subject is so obvious, I cannot conclude on a serious note, even though the issues are more serious than is generally thought. But the contrast should indeed often come to the fore in our souls—between the seriousness of true anthroposophical striving and what our contemporaries often make of this anthroposophical striving. Sometimes, however, something grotesque emerges—and perhaps, if we did not feel such a strong need to defend ourselves against it, it might even come across as merely comical. I do feel compelled at times to shed a little light on the outside world—about which everyone is free to form their own opinion—and so I would like to conclude today’s very seriously intended reflection with a remark that is not entirely serious.

[ 22 ] Some time ago, our dear friend Wachsmuth brought me a crude pamphlet in Dornach that was directed against anthroposophy and, specifically, against me and a few people close to me. At the time, he said he didn’t want to leave the book with me because he didn’t want to hurt my feelings by asking me to read it—since it was even cruder than some of the others. Well, I never saw that book again. Mr. Wachsmuth took it with him back then, and I didn’t give it any further thought. However, yesterday I drove through Freiburg accompanied by Dr. Steiner and Mr. Leinhas; we lingered there for a while, sitting at a table. At a neighboring table sat two gentlemen, one of whom [unclear passage; see note on p. 217]. We hadn’t paid much attention to them; they left a little before we did, and after they had left, the waiter brought me a book, saying it was meant for me from the two gentlemen who had been sitting there. Mr. Leinhas inquired who the gentlemen were and learned that one of them was Werner von der Schulenburg. On the flyleaf preceding the title page is written: “Best regards, the author.”

[ 23 ] You see, my dear friends, this sort of thing happens to us, too. It perhaps gives us a mental image of what notions of tact currently prevail—leaving everything else aside—among those who pose as our opponents. I really haven’t had the opportunity lately to concern myself much with my opponents; for anyone who has followed my activities even a little in recent times will have seen how deeply I’ve been occupied with adding many new truths to the old ones. And that takes time, which one cannot allow to be wasted, even if the opposition becomes as fierce as it may. For the attainment of anthroposophical truths is just as I have described it today in the course of this lecture. If the Anthroposophical Society allows this awareness to permeate it, then it will draw much of the strength that will be necessary in the present time for the reorganization of this Society. And that, my dear friends, is absolutely essential. Please do not hold it against me if I emphasize this once again today.