The Rudolf Steiner Archive

Dear fellow students, dear attendees! First of all, I would like to address the esteemed speakers who were kind enough to greet me in such a friendly manner. I assume that this greeting also applies to the spiritual matter that is to be represented here in the course of this college event.

In response to these greetings, I would like to say that I am deeply gratified by them for two fundamental reasons that inspire me in all that I represent of what I call anthroposophical spiritual science. Of course, this anthroposophical spiritual science is still much attacked today, but it will be able to go the way it is meant to go through its inner strength if, among other things, two contemporary forces in particular stand by its side. And it is precisely from these two contemporary forces that your friendly greetings come. Firstly, from those who want to devote themselves to the cultivation of scientific life, and secondly, from the youth. Now, I am deeply convinced that, among the many different conditions that must be met if anthroposophical spiritual science is to go its way, two things are needed above all. The first is that people learn to recognize that this spiritual science, for its part, wants to work out of the strictest scientific spirit. And because it wants to do that, this welcome is particularly valuable to me. And secondly, I am deeply convinced that — however some people who are in the present life may still think about this anthroposophical spiritual science today — what is even more important is how young people think about it. For it is on what young people bring into human development in the coming decades that it will depend on whether we find our way out of the numerous forces of decline and into the forces of awakening. Working towards this goal should also be the aim of anthroposophical spiritual science. It must therefore be particularly satisfying for it to be welcomed by young people. And believe me – believe it, my honored greeters, and believe it, all of you sitting here: the anthroposophical spiritual science will never shy away from justified criticism, from what is above all a completely critical confrontation with itself. On the contrary, it will derive the greatest satisfaction from it when this criticism arises out of a real urge for knowledge and out of the urge to work practically on the goals of human development. Anthroposophical spiritual science is at the beginning of its development; it needs true and honest criticism. It does not need blind trust and cannot really use blind trust. It needs thinking evaluators. May these thinking judges grow up from the youth.

Therefore, because this is my dearest wish, I would like to thank you from the bottom of my heart for the kind words that have just been dedicated to me as the representative of this anthroposophical spiritual science. Thank you very much for that and let me express the wish that what will be presented here in a rather makeshift way in the course of this week, i.e. in a relatively short time, may at least to some extent correspond to your prerequisites in an inspiring way. These prerequisites are certainly such that they are in line with what has just been said, otherwise the event could not have taken place.

And in particular, I must express my heartfelt thanks for the kind invitation extended to me by the student body as a whole. I take this as an expression of the fact that more and more people are realizing that anthroposophical spiritual science, as I represent it, is the opposite of any sectarian endeavor, that it is also the opposite of anything that appeals to any narrow-minded belief or something similar. Therefore, I consider it a source of deep satisfaction to me that the general student body here in Darmstadt has accepted the invitation issued by the special anthroposophical groups. And for this invitation, let me express my heartfelt thanks to all those who have taken part.

Now, dear fellow students, dear attendees, what is called anthroposophical spiritual science today is often judged by wider circles from points of view that could actually be done away with by considering the starting point from which this anthroposophical spiritual science originated. This starting point was certainly not a sectarian one, not a religious confession in the narrower sense of the time, or the like - although the religious denominations, for their part, will have every reason to engage with this anthroposophical spiritual science. The starting point was an examination of the scientific thinking of our more immediate present, the present that roughly encompasses the last decades of the 19th century and the first decades of the 20th century.

The scientific way of thinking has not only taken hold within science itself, but has also conquered a wider sphere of human thought, actually only in recent times. It has been rightly emphasized by insightful minds that the luminaries of modern scientific thinking – let us say Newton, Copernicus, Galileo, even Kepler himself – started out with the followers of an old belief in revelation, as they found it within their own time. The great confrontation between the scientific way of thinking and the great questions of world view only really occurred in the course of the 19th century. And this scientific way of thinking has also taken hold of what is now called “spiritual science”, not on the basis of anthroposophy but in today's official science. It has taken hold of history, for example.

If we look at the development of science on the one hand and the development of historical views on the other, then it must be said that anyone who, with all seriousness and from the inner experiences of the whole human being, the full human being, experienced the last stage of development of our spiritual life at the end of the 19th century and at the beginning of the twentieth century encountered, as it were, two cornerstones; two cornerstones, one of which once caused a great stir but is now almost forgotten, that is, forgotten from the point of view that it is no longer consciously remembered. But it lives on in the way in which questions of world view are treated today. This cornerstone is the once famous “Ignorabimus” – “We will never know” – of Du Bois-Reymond from the 1870s. Du Bois-Reymond, who was a representative natural scientist of his time, wanted to strictly define the boundaries of scientific thought, and he concluded the debates in which the natural scientist's ignorabimus was contained with the words: Natural science will never be able to fathom the essence of the material itself, that is, the essence of that which underlies the external world, the world that can be observed by our senses and dissected by our minds. In the face of this world, one must utter the ignorabimus — Du Bois-Reymond believed — because anything that would go beyond the indicated limits would lead to supernaturalism. This would lead to a kind of supersensible research — Du Bois-Reymond believes, by presenting the sentence in a monumental way, that where supernaturalism begins, science ends.

So the great question that stood at the starting point of anthroposophical thinking and observation was: Is it really the end of all science where supersensible research should begin, or, as Du Bois-Reymond believes, supernaturalism?

But that is only one of the cornerstones. The other cornerstone was provided not by a natural scientist but by a historian, the famous Leopold von Ranke. And again it was an Ignorabimus, a “We cannot and will not know!” Ranke, the great historian, tried with all objectivity to find his way into the course of human development that can be traced through historical documents. And he stated that what we see as the most far-reaching event in the course of the development of the earth, the event of the founding of Christianity, the appearance of Christ Jesus in the course of human development, reaches into this historical becoming. Ranke does not deny that this event was world-shaking in historical evolution; but he asserts that the historical approach must stop at the cause of the origin of Christianity, just as Du Bois-Reymond asserted that science must stop at the supersensible. That which flowed into historical development through the founder of Christianity – says Ranke, for example – belongs to the primal elements of historical becoming – so he expresses it – which methodical historical research cannot approach. Of course, many such primal elements could be pointed out. I have only emphasized the most important one for the Western world in the sense of Leopold von Ranke. That is the other cornerstone. It was erected for the reason that in the course of the 19th century, the education that scientific humanity has received over the last four to five centuries has also developed its powers in other scientific considerations. And even if Leopold von Ranke was far from combining his own historical perspective with natural science, it must be said that natural science, with its great and mighty triumphs and its rightful place in the modern intellectual development of humanity, has also asserted its authority in other fields. These had to, if I may say so, “resemble” it. And so, in essence, Leopold von Ranke's ignorabimus is nothing other than the historical answer to Du Bois-Reymond's scientific ignorabimus.

A confrontation with what was alive in modern spiritual life and – because spiritual life is, after all, at the basis of all human cultural and civilizational development – with all of modern human life: such a confrontation with these two cornerstones stands at the starting point of what anthroposophical spiritual science wanted to become: a confrontation with the scientific way of thinking. And I say explicitly: with the scientific way of thinking. For when this starting point is mentioned, it is not a matter of going into individual scientific results – which have already been so gratefully addressed in the lectures that have been given so far – but rather of looking at the way way in which the scientific researcher wants to relate to reality, and to look in particular at what one has as a human being in terms of one's own human development in the present in the practice of scientific research or even just in the appropriation of scientific results.

You will understand when I say that natural science, especially in the course of the 19th century – although it was prepared for earlier – has gradually developed research methods in which, in particular, those who is engaged in research in any branch of this natural science, acquires an inner scientific conscientiousness and an inner scientific discipline that cannot be acquired in any other way than in this natural scientific research work. And this inner mental discipline, this inner mental conscientiousness, which one can acquire in this way, we need in all of modern civilization and cultural life. The only question that arises is whether science can take what is being cultivated within humanity in terms of conscientiousness and inner discipline, and take it to its ultimate conclusion. No matter whether the results of scientific research are justified or not, and whether they need to be modified in the future or not – the relative lack of justification has indeed been put into perspective by some speakers at these events – the important thing is that even at the most radical extreme, to which science has turned more in the direction of theory than of practice or experiment, this conscientiousness and this inner discipline still underlie it.

We have seen how scientific research has gradually been pushed to work itself out of the qualitative, more and more towards the quantitative. This is, as I said, debatable in terms of results – I am not talking about that now. But I am talking about the education that the researcher has been able to receive precisely from the extreme of this tendency, which has gone so far as to only accept in the field of scientific observation that which can be measured, counted or weighed, that which can be expressed in numbers, in measure or in weight. In certain circles, people profess the view that one can only achieve a certain objectivity if one only accepts as objective that which is subject to number, measure and weight. As I said, in terms of the results, this will be very disputable.

I would now like to consider the other side, the side that may culminate in the question: What does a thinker, a researcher, himself gain by working towards achieving the objective through weight, measure and number? One gains by the fact that one is increasingly compelled to exclude from scientific investigation, from scientific experiment or scientific observation, everything that could flow from the subject, from the human personality itself, into the formulation of these scientific findings. Everything that comes from the human subject itself must go. The aim is to develop a completely objective picture of the world. But if we take this tendency to its logical conclusion, then, my dear audience, the very thing with which the researcher, as it were, moves away from his research, from his observation, from his experiment, with which he rises to the of the laws of nature, then that which he carries away, which he then keeps within himself, must not have any part, not the slightest part, in what he regards as the true external world, as the truly objective. And if we follow this train of thought to its conclusion, we are forced to say: If, in the strictest scientific sense, everything subjective is to be excluded, then what we ultimately carry in our minds, which has emerged from combinations of natural phenomena, must not be in any way part of this external world. But what then of this external world may be in us, that we carry within us when we research, when we are no longer in living interaction with this objectivity through our mental power, but when we only look back on what has worked subjectively in us while we were devoted to research? The subjective must not be stuck inside, it must be recognized as lying entirely within the human being himself. But in so far as the human being must also belong to objectivity, it must not be stuck in the objectivity of the human being himself either. We must therefore carry something of our research results, insofar as they are our soul-good, in us, which has nothing to do with our own objectivity, although it strives to represent a true image of the outside world. By thinking about nature, no kind of being, as we ascribe it to our own objectivity, may be present in this thinking about nature. Therefore, at the starting point of an epistemological consideration, the sentence must be: “I think, therefore I am not.” Only when we dare to contrast this sentence with the great Cartesian fallacy “I think, therefore I am,” only then do we really place ourselves on the ground of scientific thinking.

Today it is necessary to make this turn, to move from the revered, one might say, starting point of modern thinking, from the “cogito, ergo sum” to the “cogito, ergo non sum”, “I think, therefore I am not”! For it is only by realizing the non-being of what we gain from objectivity that we become aware of how we must now address our subjective experience: we must address it as an image. If we understand our soul nature correctly, we live in the image. This is now, in a certain way, the cornerstone – in so far as it is a matter of thinking – of what stands at the starting point of anthroposophical spiritual science.

But what has humanity as such achieved, in particular with regard to – if I may use Lessing's expression – the “education of humanity” through scientific thinking, through the characterized methodology and inner discipline? I would like to particularly point out what has actually been achieved in the course of more recent times. And if we want to appreciate and honor this in the right way, then we have to look back to older times in the development of humanity, to those times when there was not yet a scientific thinking in our present sense, when people did not draw such a strict, conceptual line between what man subjectively brought to the outer world and what is really objectively present in the outer world. Today, one need only take any literary work that wanted to have a scientific character and that still belongs to that older time, which did not have the scientific impact, and one will see how man was not yet able to really separate the subjective from the objective; but how he was also not able to develop something that is precisely one of the most important developmental forces of the latest phase of human history: full self-awareness, full human composure, that places itself in the universe and becomes more and more aware of itself as an individuality, as a personality in this universe. The growth of personality consciousness, the growth of the sense of self, the growth of composure, is what increases to the same extent that modern scientific consciousness arises. Man consolidates himself inwardly, one might say, in relation to all the forces with which he holds his personality together, precisely under the influence of this veneration of the principle of objectivity. Man becomes stronger inwardly as a personality, and his longing for free individuality grows to the same extent that scientific consciousness has developed in recent times. From this consideration alone, something can be inferred, which you will find confirmed when you penetrate into the now already somewhat widespread literature of our anthroposophical spiritual science. And what can follow from this consideration is this: the more man engages in the observation of the sense world and in the gradual processing of this sense world in a scientific way, the more he arrives at an inner consciousness of himself as I. With these two latter elements, that grows in man which securely places him as an I in his whole environment. This should be felt particularly by technicians, because one can develop a feeling there for how the human inner consciousness is changed by looking not only at the establishment of natural laws through observation, through experimentation, but at the weaving of natural laws into what one has to accomplish for the world in terms of instruments, tools, and entire undertakings. In this integration of natural laws into enterprise, in this integration of natural laws into reality, one can feel how human inner composure grows under the influence of a scientific way of thinking.

If we understand this in the right way, my dear audience, then we may ask the question on the other hand: Under what circumstances does this composure decrease? Under what circumstances does one lose this sense of self?

It is remarkable: with the expansion of material knowledge, the sense of self becomes stronger. If, so to speak, you are absorbed in material knowledge, you initially achieve the maximum of the ordinary sense of self. — When does it weaken? Well, you only need to recall the most ordinary, everyday phenomenon that shows when the sense of self weakens. I remind you of the dream, of dreaming. It is not necessary that something has an external reality meaning when you look at this something in order to recognize from it how to enter into true reality. Dreaming can ultimately be made the subject of extraordinarily interesting research, and Johannes Volkelt, a very important philosopher of modern times, published his book on dream fantasy as one of his first literary works. It is a pity that Volkelt then left the paths he had taken with it and through which he could have come very close to real spiritual scientific knowledge, under the power of the latest philosophy. If one really studies the life of dreams, one notices in the course of the dreams many things, but one of the most essential characteristics of interesting dreams is their symbolism. Let us say, for example, that there is some kind of fire alarm outside on the street, but we are still asleep and do not recognize the fire alarm as such. The dream sometimes symbolizes some event to us, which we then recognize when we awaken, as it is symbolic of what appears as an external fire alarm. This is an example of the symbolization of external events. But it is the same with internal states. We dream of a boiling oven and when we awaken we recognize that the boiling oven is the dream symbol that is placed before us for the pounding heart with which we awaken. The dream symbolizes the inner and the outer for us in the strangest way. But we will not be able to deny it: the dream realm represents that in which our ego, so to speak, loses itself again. It goes so far that we experience in our dreams what can only come from our own ego as if it were coming from an alien ego. The dream dissolves our ego, so to speak, as the chaotic manifestation of our soul life, our soul life that is not initially connected to the outside world. It brings us out of the composure into which we grow more and more, especially when we devote ourselves to material knowledge.

And if we follow what initially still appears in dreams in a healthy state, if we follow this through all the phenomena that follow the dream life, through the faint-like states, through the notorious internal states, through many things that otherwise lead the human being from the imaginative to the fantastic and the rhapsodic, if we follow this path to its end, where — in a sense in other metamorphoses — what appears is what characterizes the dream in that the dream is no longer able to grasp reality adequately, but grasps it in the symbol, which is still striving to grasp reality but can no longer grasp it, — if we look at all these phenomena, these feverish phenomena, and also on everything that emerges as pathological states of the soul, one sees the other pole, the pole which, when the I develops according to it, has such an effect on this I that it dissolves, that it comes out of its composure, that it passes over into the unconscious.

Now there is a remarkable connection between these inner experiences of the human being, which at first approach him in a healthy way in his dreams, and then, in the other cases I have listed, approach the pathological more and more. There is a remarkable connection between all these experiences, I would say, between the human being who is becoming egoless and what we can call: a soul life that is free from the body. This is shown simply by the ordinary observation that the actual soul life becomes freer from the body. So on the one hand we have this soul life that is becoming freer from the body. And if we then, as one could say, look for its scientific correlate, we come to something highly peculiar. There is now something that I want to mention here, which is well known in today's external science, but which is actually not always appreciated in its full value and significance.

You all know, my dear attendees, what a great influence the Darwinian direction, the Darwinian type of modern developmental theory, has exerted on all recent intellectual and cultural life. Now there is a point within Darwinian developmental theory that touches in a very strange way on what I have just characterized as inner experience. What I mean is this: the true Darwinist, who has of course been superseded by true science in a sense, but whose way of thinking is still in today's thinking trends, says: the different forms of living beings have developed from each other, in that small, very slight changes , which something that can only be called chance has brought about, have added up more and more, so that finally a living being with certain, let us say morphological peculiarities has developed by transformation into another living being with quite different morphological peculiarities. As a specific example, let us take the development as conceived in Darwinism, that gill-breathing lower creatures would have developed into lung-breathing ones. It has been assumed that the organ that gradually transformed into the lungs was the swim bladder. It was assumed that the swim bladder had undergone a small change by some kind of accident, and that then, again, as a result of such changes accumulating, one organ with a very specific function for the outside world had gradually developed into another organ, so that the gill activity could gradually recede and the lung activity could occur through the swim bladder that had been transformed into the lung.

But certain objections are repeatedly raised against this principle of small changes, and not by the least ingenious naturalists, in that it is emphasized that such changes are actually only pathological in nature due to the rigidity of a living being's organs. If, therefore, the deformation of the swim bladder is ever so slight, it is something pathological, it cannot prove expedient, it must be cast off again; and it is precisely because such slight deformations are to be understood as pathological that no transformations of animal or vegetable organisms can come about in this way.

The important thing for this consideration is that in order to explain progress, one was obliged, in the external study of nature, to look at the pathological, at that which deviates from the strictly organized, from that which is strictly ordered by laws in objectivity.

One can say – and especially when thinking technically, one will be able to develop a feeling for it – that which one can technically achieve, so that one can rely on it in terms of its usefulness, must be so thoroughly organized through the entire arrangement of the mechanical that it does not deviate anywhere from that which one has arranged according to law – precisely so that one can rely on it. Darwinism actually bases its principle of progress entirely on such deviations from the strict organization of nature itself, on deviations from what one might consider – for example in morphology – to be just as strictly organized or mechanized as the mechanism of a machine. It was therefore forced to base progress in the development of living things on deviations, on what many rightly regard as pathological. Is it any wonder that our ego — which draws itself to become a level-headed being precisely from that which is most highly ordered in the external world: from external phenomena — that our ego, when these external phenomena enter even a trace into the pathological, has as a mental antithesis the experience of the descent of consciousness, the loss of consciousness? We can see a remarkable parallelism, a connection between what wants to break out of the lawfulness, what wants to overcome what we have to recognize in external nature or in technology, and what tears the I away from the composure that it achieves precisely through the material observation of the cosmos.

We see here a reference to the other pole. And it is this other pole that spiritual science now refers to with all its energy. For spiritual science opens up methods that can prevent the unconsciousness of the ego when this ego tears itself away from the ordinary organization prescribed for it by the body. All methods of spiritual scientific research work towards tearing the I away from the activity of the body, and yet not allowing it to drift into the unconscious, but consciously guiding it into a world into which it would unconsciously and pathologically enter if the organization were to deviate, without its intervention, from what must be recognized as its own laws.

What has emerged in modern human consciousness is deeply significant: this clinging to the pathological as a principle of progress in development, and then looking at what occurs when there is a deviation from the fixed organization, at the fluttering of the I. The aim of the spiritual-scientific method is to prevent the ego from fluttering, to enable the development of soul and spiritual activity in a healthy and not in an unhealthy way. And this spiritual-scientific method is now being developed in the same strict way as the external scientific method is being developed. It is highly desirable, however, that those who want to do significant research in the spiritual realm have acquired the inner discipline and conscientiousness that I characterized at the beginning of my discussion as the inner discipline and conscientiousness acquired through scientific research. Those who have not undergone the training provided by modern science can basically only produce nebulous ideas in the field of spiritual science. What the anthroposophical spiritual science referred to here aims to achieve should not be confused with the vague and hazy products of mystics or the like, who proceed without this inner discipline, sometimes with downright indiscipline, without this inner conscientiousness, indeed with a lack of conscience, when they present their so-called spiritual experiences to the world, which unfortunately are only too easily believed by the undiscerning. A truly scientific method must be acquired in the same strict sense and on the same presupposition as that on which the training of the natural scientist is based, as is the natural scientific method itself.

There are two things that must be considered first when developing the method of spiritual science. The first is what arises as a necessary force in our everyday soul life and also in our ordinary scientific research, namely the ability to remember or memory. Anyone who has studied the pathological conditions that overtake people when their memory is not intact, when, let us say, certain periods of time since their birth have been erased from their memory — you can find sufficient studies on this in psychiatric literature — anyone who has studied what people experience when their memory is interrupted, will see how this memory forms a basis for ordinary, healthy life. But what does this ability to remember mean? This is precisely what spiritual scientific research shows. We must have this ability to remember in our ordinary human life and also in ordinary science. But if we conduct psychological research, now with unbiased psychology, into what is actually contained in this ability to remember, if we research the development of this ability to remember from the first years of childhood, then we find that the 'ideas that emerge as memories emerge from the depths of our soul are what we have acquired through our experiences in the outside world, even if they appear in many metamorphoses, sometimes also transformed by justified or unjustified imagination. But if you study human development as a whole, you come to see in this memory something like a reflection of our experiential life in our own organism. Just as we see in the mirror what is in front of it — I am using a comparison here for what you will find amply substantiated in the anthroposophical literature —, just as we see in a mirror what is is in front of the mirror and you cannot see behind the mirror, then with ordinary consciousness you can, so to speak, see only as far as a mirror surface, a soul mirror surface, which reflects back the memory images. How the will plays into this cannot be touched upon today; perhaps in one of the next lectures. It is our own organism that reflects what we experience. And just as we cannot look behind the mirror when we stand in front of it, we cannot look inside our own organism and get to know it as a living organism. We have to get to know it from the corpse or from what it shows us in pathological and other deviations. We get to know it from the outside. We do not get to know this organism from the inside for the same reason that we cannot see behind the mirror. However, it is possible if one has first developed this ability to remember to such an extent that one can rely on it, through the special method of meditation as described in my books “How to Know Higher Worlds?” and in the second part of “Occult Science.” In other words, if one is not a nebulous mystic, but a reasonable human being, who is equal to every degree of inner research, so that he cannot be “twisted” when he goes further, — it is possible to “interrupt” the memory through meditation, just as one can break a mirror and then see what is behind it. If this is done through full willpower, in a level-headed manner and while maintaining self-awareness, it leads the person to see beyond memory. It does not lead to pathological states. When a person, through spiritual scientific methods – which I can only describe here in principle – develops lasting ideas that should not be reminiscences, when he devotes himself to meditatively easily comprehensible ideas, when he lets his soul rest on them, concentrating on it, but in such a way that everything is excluded that does not arise from the human application of will, and if he excludes all nebulous mysticism, then the human being does indeed manage to look beyond memory; he manages to come to real self-knowledge. This self-knowledge, which anthroposophical spiritual science must strive for with its empirical methods, is very different from the poetic, in a sense admirable mysticism of a John of the Cross or St. Therese. Those who devote themselves to the writings of these spirits feel the high poetry, feel what reigns in these wonderful images. Those who have become spiritual researchers in the anthroposophical sense know another, know that it is precisely with such spirits from the depths of human nature, into which ordinary consciousness does not look down, that special facts flare up into consciousness, one might say. In the case of a Saint Therese or a Saint John of the Cross, in the human organs, especially in the so-called physical human organs, in the liver, lungs and digestive organs — however prosaic or profane one may consider this, it is not profane for him who sees through the matter. In these physical organs, abnormal things are happening, which “bubble up” into consciousness and become images there, as they then play out in such personalities who are suited to them. But the true spiritual researcher breaks through the mirror of memory. He does not arrive at such nebulous self-knowledge, which is called mysticism and idolized, but he arrives at concrete self-knowledge. He arrives at a living conception of what the human organs are. There the way opens to a real knowledge of the human organization, the way by which spiritual science also leads over into the medical field. But that is only the beginning. For when one looks in this way, through spiritual and supersensible powers, into the actual material substance of the human organism, then one also overcomes the mere material observation of this human organism. For ultimately one sees how that which presents itself as material in man is not merely born out of the hereditary current with which it has only connected itself, but how it is born out of a world that man has passed through before his birth or conception. One looks into the pre-existent human life by means of a detour through material inner knowledge. The pre-existent life becomes a reality through supersensible knowledge. Ordinary mysticism, as it is idolized by uncritical minds, is more of an obstacle to real spiritual knowledge. — That on the one hand.

Another human power that is necessary for life in the most eminent sense, and which must not be broken for this ordinary life, just as little as the power of memory or recollection, is the power of love. Now, you all know how this power of love is bound to the human organism in ordinary life. It only comes into being at a particular age in the way that it has its special significance for social life, namely when a person reaches sexual maturity; before that it is only a kind of preparation — but this love is only a special case of what we call 'love' in general. Just as sexual love is bound to the human organism, so too is love in the ordinary sense bound to the organism. But just as knowledge can be released when memory breaks down, so love can be freed from the human organism when it is developed spiritually and soulfully through a special methodology. We must not, however, call in a trivial sense every manifestation of “platonic love”, which is nothing more than some vapour from the organism, but this love must be developed in the higher sense through human self-discipline, again through exercises as they are given in the writings mentioned. This love, which in ordinary life is not a power of knowledge, can be developed so that it transforms itself into the power of knowledge of true intuition. When we take into our own hands that to which we otherwise only surrender in life, that which actually educates us in life, in self-discipline, when we become, so to speak, more and more our own companion in our self-education in a strictly methodical way, then we arrive at making love a free force in the human being, in the human organization, and then it becomes a power of knowledge. And just as we arrive at self-knowledge by overcoming memory, so we arrive at supersensible knowledge by making love a cognitive activity in relation to the external world. There must be limits to our knowledge of the external world, otherwise we would not be able to develop love in us. If we were not separate from the external world, we could not be so separate from person to person as to develop love in social life. But when we have developed this love to higher knowledge, when we have it in a sufficiently healthy degree, and then develop it to the power of recognition, then we attain knowledge of the world just as we attain self-knowledge in the other way. And this knowledge of the world leads us to the knowledge of that world in which we only live between falling asleep and waking up, when we have no consciousness, when consciousness again fades away. We experience a state that is in some ways similar to the one between falling asleep and waking up, but we experience this state in full consciousness. There we experience a new external world. We do not experience an atomistic world, which underlies the external sense world, but we experience a spiritual world. To educate ourselves in love means to take the step into the true reality of the external world, into spiritual reality; into the reality that our soul absorbs every evening when we fall asleep, when our ordinary consciousness, which is still bound to the body, becomes unconscious because of the longing to return to the body that lies in the bed. When we ascend to a higher consciousness, we become acquainted with the world that consciously receives us when we pass through the gate of death. Thus, the two ends of our human life initially confront us scientifically. Much more will be further characterized in a subsequent lecture. Today, I have only set myself the task of showing how what can be inwardly cultivated in the soul through natural science must be expanded if true spiritual knowledge is to be attained through true spiritual science. Therefore, because the soul wants to educate itself, not in some amateurish, dilettantish way, but in strict methodology, if it wants to ascend from nature-knowledge to spirit-knowledge, therefore one may also believe: Whoever is able to judge from the full humanity what material natural knowledge gives us, and who is able to recognize that we strengthened through material knowledge, will also be able to find his way into the contemplation that seeks this strengthening of the ego on the other, the spiritual side, into which we fall asleep, dream, or which we encounter in pathological states, but which we can develop in a completely healthy way, in order to then advance to a spiritual knowledge of the world. Therefore, I believe that anyone who can fulfill the recognition of nature in the right way will also ascend to a spiritual recognition that is accessible to every human being, but especially to those educated in natural science. Therefore, I believe that the recognition of spiritual science will come precisely through the strengthening of the scientific spirit and the recognition of nature.

Dear fellow students, esteemed audience! I would very much like to stick to the topic, and since we will be talking about threefolding afterwards, I would ask that any questions relating to threefolding be deferred to later. But I do believe that it is justified to say a few words about the threefold order here, because Dr. Unger himself, in his discussions, took the threefold order as the basis for his views on the creation of technology as a free art.

In a certain sense, it cannot be maintained – I also expressed this in my “Key Points of the Social Question”, and Dr. Unger probably meant it that way – that the idea of threefolding as such, that is, the threefolding of the social organism as an idea, as a concept, is a kind of new discovery in the strict sense of the word. Rather, there may be a kind of new discovery in the social laws to which I referred in the essays of 1905. The threefold social order is actually an old idea and has been mentioned many times before in this form. The essential thing about the way in which the threefold social order is presented here and how it appears in the present is not its actual character as an idea but the position it seeks to occupy in relation to the whole social organism. The idea of structuring the life of humanity as a whole into a spiritual part, a state-legal part and an economic part has had to come up again and again. And if, here and there, someone were to claim that this is something completely new as an idea, I believe that, as I am well aware, there are bound to be claims of primacy. That is why I pointed out in the “key points” that the way the idea of threefolding appears here is something quite different.

The idea of threefolding, as it is advocated by me, for example, is the result of decades of observation of the needs of contemporary humanity. If you look at the situation with open eyes in the present day, you had to recognize as early as the end of the 19th century that things were heading for a catastrophe. And in the spring of 1914, in a series of lectures that I gave in Vienna to a small circle (a larger one would probably have laughed at me at the time because of my remarks), I pointed out that in the near future the conditions of the civilized world (I did not just say “European conditions” at the time) were heading towards a decisive catastrophe. You see, that was at a time when disaster was already very close. Nevertheless, in the following weeks, people in positions of responsibility for the course of events spoke in the following way. A statesman with responsibility, to call outstanding - of course only in the sense of what our time so often calls “outstanding” - said, when it came to discussing the general world situation in a parliament: the relations between Central Europe and Russia were in the most favorable way imaginable; one could be convinced that peace would be consolidated more and more. He could see this from the friendly neighborly relations that existed, for example, between St. Petersburg and Berlin. — So it was in May 1914, spoken of by those in positions of responsibility, after it had been necessary, as it was by me, to point out with all energy beforehand that the circumstances were pushing towards a catastrophe, and simply because the three elements of human coexistence, the spiritual, the legal and the economic, had interacted in such a way in all of social life that the catastrophe in its depths can actually only be seen in the confusion of these three areas. One could see, especially if one had an eye for it, how the increasing intellectualism of modern times affected our entire public life, how the complete devotion of people to the intellectual element, as had developed in the usual scientific mind-set, which has permeated everything else as well – one could see how this devotion to the intellectual prepared everything for the catastrophe in a certain sense. That is where the deeper reasons lie, and anyone who does not yet see them there today cannot meaningfully participate in a discussion about constructive forces.

You see, back then you could experience something like this – I'm not saying this out of immodesty, but because it seems symptomatically significant to me as my own experience – in the summer of 1914, I gave a German lecture in Paris about the things I usually talk about and, for example, also talked about yesterday. This lecture was not given for a German colony there, but was translated word for word, so it was explicitly given for the French, not for German colonists living in Paris – they were not there either. So in May 1914, with what had flowed from German spiritual life in the strictest sense — for basically it is the case that everything that is asserted here as anthroposophy has flowed from German spiritual life — one could somehow make a certain impression with it all over the world. We were at that stage in the spiritual realm. But what worked against this was, again, the economic realm. And one only has to look through it carefully to see how this disharmonious working of the spiritual life with the economic life was the primal phenomenon of all the phenomena that were preparing in the 1880s and had reached their peak at the turn of the 19th to the 20th century. Of course, countless forces and currents converge there, so that it is impossible to summarize everything in a few words.

But if one wants to emphasize an important phenomenon, a fundamental phenomenon, it could be done in the way I once did in a lecture in Nuremberg in 1908. At the time, I pointed out how characteristic it is of modern social life that the personal has actually been increasingly eliminated, especially in what is called capitalism, in capitalism in general – without wanting to belittle capital in the economy , of course, you cannot conduct modern economic life without capital investments, that is, without capitalism. And the way that capitalism is often talked about today is nothing more than the purest layman or dilettante behavior. What it is about is that the capitalist essence, basically since the beginning of the 20th century, let's say – it was already prepared earlier – has become more and more impersonal and impersonal. I like to tell an anecdote here; anecdotes are sometimes indicative of what happened. When international economic life was still more dependent on personality, it once happened that the finance minister of the King of France also had to come to Rothschild in Paris because the king, for reasons you can easily imagine, had to turn to the banker. He came just at the time when Rothschild was dealing with a leather merchant. Now, capitalism leads to a certain instinctive socialism; one must realize that. Rothschild, who was very powerful and who asserted the personal element in everything he administered in a capitalist way, not the impersonal capitalist – Rothschild was therefore dealing with a leather merchant. The servant entered and announced the finance minister of the king. He should wait until I am finished, said Rothschild. The servant could not really understand this and the one who was waiting outside could not understand it at all. He thought there must be a misunderstanding. “Please say,” he sent the servant again, “the minister of the king of France is here.” Rothschild had him say again that yes, he would just have to wait. The minister did not understand this at all, he tore open the door and was inside. He said: I am the Minister of Finance of the King of France. - Fine, said Rothschild, I still have work to do, please take a chair and sit down. - Yes, but I am the Minister of the King of France! - Please take two chairs, - said Rothschild.

I tell this story so that you can see from this anecdote, too, that under capitalism something was indeed at work that lay in personal will and personal emotions. This personal element ceased to exist. What I have said is, of course, not a line of argument, just an illustration. The argument would have to be developed in a whole series of lectures. But just at the turn of the 19th to the 20th century, this personal element took a turn towards the purely factual. I would like to say: forces came into play through which the capital masses moved as if by themselves. Share capital came to the fore, as opposed to individual capital, and society took the place of the influence of the individual personality. This introduced an impersonal element, so that in modern economic life man was gradually harnessed as if into an impersonal element. And in place of personal initiative came what might be called routine. It was no longer possible to develop anything other than routine in economic life. Those who study economic history will find how these things are rooted in the development of modern economic life, and how they are the things that pushed towards the terrible world catastrophe. That was now there, and so one could believe, especially at that time, that the right time had come when people could understand from their practical lives that the interaction of these three areas must be sought in an appropriate way. And that is the essential thing about the threefold social organism: not the idea as such, but the way in which, in every detail, things are thought out of the concrete, out of direct life practice. There is something thoroughly anti-utopian in this impulse of threefolding, as it appears here, something that rejects every kind of utopia, that only wants to work out of the practical side of life.

This is what is so rarely seen and what is often not given due consideration, even by adherents of the so-called threefolding idea. It happens very often that the threefold order is discussed, even by its adherents, as if it were a utopia, as if it had not emerged from what all people actually want in their fields. One need only summarize the individual wills. Most of the time people are not consciously aware of what they want, but they do want it. The subconscious plays a much greater role in social life than one might think. That is why people have repeatedly said to me: Yes, what is written in the “Key Points”, which after all underlie the impulse for threefolding that is emerging today, that is what this or that society in this or that field also wants. Another came with a different area of specialization. “That is nothing new,” they said. — ‘All the better,’ I said. ”The less something is new, the better. The more it is rooted in what people already want, the better.” What matters is that a certain understanding should arise among the individual specialized fields. And here I do believe that Dr. Unger's lecture today could be of extraordinary importance because it was inspired by the thought that ultimately what the technician wants in his field cannot be solved as a special question without turning one's gaze to the whole of social life. It is therefore of little significance when people say that the specialized ideas have already been expressed or have appeared here or there in echoes, or when they say that everything has already occurred before. Let us assume the most extreme hypothesis. Let us assume that Dr. Unger had not said anything new, but that his ideas had been expressed for decades by the most diverse technical branches and societies for my sake. But I believe that one thing must be agreed, even if this hypothesis were correct: they have not been implemented, these ideas – surely no one will claim that. Some may claim that they have been nurtured, but no one can claim that they have been implemented. Today they are questions as they were decades ago. And that is because they were treated in a specialized way, so that the technician limited himself to his circle and dealt with all special technical questions from this point of view. But things cannot be solved that way today. We not only have a world economy, we also have a world consciousness, something that encompasses the whole world and that can only be dealt with as a world issue in the economic and technical fields. The reason why a solution could not be found is that the technician was, to a certain extent, isolated. The technician was even painfully aware of this isolation because, as a modern technician, he is the most modern aspect of the personality in modern life. It can be said of the most diverse other aspects of modern life: they have their roots here and there. The modern technician is what he has become through modern technology. He represents a class in the entire social order, and his particular profession gives rise to a social context that is itself a social issue. However, this can only be treated in the context of social life as a whole. Therefore, what Dr. Unger formulated with the words “Technology as a free art” will remain a utopia as long as the connection between the special wishes and ideas of technicians and universal social ideas is not found. The technician most of all needs to acquire a universal view of social needs, and this is because he has placed himself in modern life as something new. The farmer also needs this social perspective, inasmuch as agriculture itself is being spun by technology. But as a farmer, he is ancient. But the essence of the social question must emerge most significantly from that which has emerged as something completely new in modern social development. And that is perhaps what needs to be emphasized. I do not want to go into specific questions of threefolding, which arise when one is speaking about specific questions of the technicians. The essential point is that the questions of the technicians are treated as a chapter of the great general social questions. It is not a matter of assuming, for instance, that the anthroposophical side simply wants to draw the question of the technicians into the threefolding movement from the outside. The threefolding movement would be a mere slogan if that were the intention. But slogans are not at issue here. The point is that the movement, which could also call itself something else, aims to bring the three aspects of social life into the right relationship with one another. This is in contrast to intellectualism, which seeks to throw everything into one pot , even if it then takes out of that pot, for example, the Fourteen Points, which, insofar as they were Woodrow Wilson's Fourteen Points, truly leave nothing to be desired in terms of their intellectualism. The idea of threefold social order was first expressed by me, just when, at a terribly serious moment, the solution of the questions was once again sought not from the practice of life, but from minds, from intellectualism, with Wilson's fourteen points. Particularly abroad, one could see how these fourteen points, when they arose, addressed something pathological in humanity, and it was highly regrettable that at the most serious moment in the recent development of German history, in the fall of 1918, 1918, Central Europe even agreed to these Fourteen Points and could not see how, at the present moment, we are compelled to engage directly in practical life without any vague theories and to study things from that basis. The Fourteen Points were a utopia; further development has shown that. Humanity will have to convince itself that nothing can be achieved with such utopias, but that something can only be achieved if one engages realistically with what is there; if one is able to think out of what exists not only logically — that is easy today — but realistically.

Anthroposophy strives for this kind of thinking, which can only be grasped when, when we speak of the spirit, we do not do as that farmer did when he was shown a magnet: “Oh, nonsense, that's a horseshoe, I'll use it to shoe my horse.” That is more or less how someone who denies the spirit of this reality behaves. And there is no way around it: if someone wants to think in a realistic way, they must also address the spiritual. That is why anthroposophy is a spiritual science. And what it has in common with the deepest, most significant demands of our time is that it wants to be realistic, that it wants to be practical when it comes to practical matters, especially in the economic and technical spheres. And although everyone has or believes they have this or that different opinion – for example, that anthroposophy does not deal enough with God, which is a completely unfounded opinion, or that for some people it deals far too much with God, who are opponents from this point of view, and the same applies to the other things mentioned here, they are said from different points of view again — but everyone, even if they have different views on one or the other, if they are serious about realistically shaping our social conditions in some specialized area based on the universal thinking of the whole, will then also find points of contact with what asserts itself as the anthroposophical movement. For it does not want to be fanciful, but human. And it will be happy to join forces with anyone who understands the human element.

Dear attendees, dear fellow students! Anthroposophy can be a matter that the individual deals with in his or her own little room, so to speak, as something that touches the most intimate questions of the heart and soul, something from which one can gain the conviction that it is connected with what binds the individual, in that he experiences himself in his full individuality and personality, to the eternal, to the divine. I spoke more from this point of view yesterday. Today I would like to speak to you about the other point of view, from which anthroposophical spiritual science can be a matter of our present age. This age, which has thrown a huge number of questions to the surface from the depths of human development, and which now not only concern the individual in his quiet chamber, but which are a common, a, if one may say so, thoroughly social affair of the whole of humanity.

If we wish to examine anthroposophical striving from this point of view, then we must first give some points of view about what I would call “the signature of our time”, which particularly characterizes certain forces and currents, certain aspirations in our time. Naturally I shall not have the opportunity to characterize the details of our age, but I would like to present the main lines of those aspirations and currents, which are of course well known in the widest circles, although unfortunately their full weight is all too rarely appreciated. These lines show how the individual moves, so to speak, in our age, without particular consideration being given to the individual.

Perhaps some people found it strange, even paradoxical, when I said something yesterday that actually contradicts a great deal of what has emerged in recent human history where worldviews are intended to be shaped. I have uttered the sentence that man, when he grows up in the scientific consciousness, which has long since become the general consciousness of mankind and which has also been incorporated into certain religious views, acquires a concept of being, a feeling of the existence of himself, which he can no longer hold on to when he looks back on his own thinking in his self-reflection. I have said that man can arrive at the proposition, “I think, therefore I am not”, only through the consciousness of time — and by that I mean the consciousness of the last three to four centuries. Man cannot apply the concept of existence, which he needs to justify his scientific view of the world, to what he opens up in his thinking, especially in his intellectual life. And perhaps in the striving for a world view that began with Descartes and has infected almost all of the world view striving of modern times, one must see in the sentence “I think, therefore I am” more of a kind of rescue attempt, a search for some kind of fixed point within oneself. One must grasp the emergence of this sentence “I think, therefore I am” psychologically, one could say. And psychology could tell us: philosophers and those who follow them occupy themselves with this sentence, believe in this sentence, because it offers them a certain illusory help against sinking into non-being, [which overtakes one] when one looks into one's own inner self and has been educated in the external scientific world view for one's existence. It might even seem paradoxical to anthroposophists when this sentence is spoken by someone who, with his Philosophy of Freedom, published in the early 1890s, sought to counter the dominant philosophy of the time. In my Philosophy of Freedom, I started out from pure thinking. It might therefore appear that what was said in the past about pure thinking, by means of which the general forces of the world are grasped as if by the corner of their cloak, should today be condemned. But that is not the case. And precisely because, starting from pure thinking, one rediscovers the being of the soul, precisely for this reason, in the sense of a matter of the times, it is for anthroposophical spiritual science. But one will only arrive at an understanding of what has just been said if, in the sense I have indicated, one familiarizes oneself a little with the signature of our time, with the most important characteristic properties of this our time.

And such a property, one can say, sheds light on all the others, and follows precisely from the way in which humanity of our age approaches scientific conviction, in which one has become accustomed to in the last few centuries. My dear audience, today man is so proud to say that he has cast off the belief in authority of the past centuries, as prescribed by the religious authorities. Man today is so proud to say that he only believes in what he can grasp in his own personal being. And yet, to the discerning, it seems as if the old authoritarian belief of the confessional religions has merely jumped to another area, and this area is precisely what is called “science” in the abstract, with a great deal of vagueness but with all the more conviction. Science. — As soon as a modern man hears the word “science,” everything within him that once went in quite different directions because of the old belief in authority is stirred. Nowadays, for reasons that people in wider circles do not really understand, anything that is said to be scientifically established is an authority of much greater power than any authority ever was. How often do we hear the answer to something that arises as a question from within the human mind: “Science says this or that.” This general power, science, has taken all authority for itself today. It has taken this authority from those people who consider themselves to be at the height of their time, including with regard to questions of world view.

But what is the relationship of today's humanity to scientific authority? It has become the case that what is scientifically recognized is what everyone is believed to understand, given the way they have developed up to a certain point according to ordinary human education, the usual human education. Science should, in principle, establish nothing but what every human being, given the necessary preconditions, can affirm. Science should be something very general. Science should live in every human being in the same way. For one knows how it is received by those who, above all, cling to the authority of science when a single personality somewhere rebels against this general validity of scientific judgment. So that one could say: The ideal of a scientific world view is that it provides a set of judgments about world and human affairs that apply equally to every human being with complete uniformity. One might say that a gigantic uniformity is the ideal of this scientific conviction.

When one expresses something like this, it might at first seem trivial. In life, however, this triviality means an extraordinary amount. For with the great influence that science, especially in so far as it is based on natural scientific foundations, has gained in our time – and as I explained yesterday, rightly so in certain areas – one must assume that, where science increasingly uniforms people, it increasingly becomes the case that one person becomes just a copy of another. And indeed, if we do not take science in terms of its content, but rather in terms of what it has achieved in the most recent period of human development, we see how this uniformity, based on scientific conviction, seeks to be made a general human affair. One need only look at the terrible, destructive forces that are raging in the east of Europe today – forces whose significance here, unfortunately, is still not sufficiently appreciated in terms of their destructive power – to see how, after all, the people who today devote themselves to such forces of destruction with a certain fanaticism, actually started out from the assumption that certain teachings, which come from scientific foundations, or perhaps it would be better to say a certain state of mind that comes from these scientific foundations, should also be made the basis of social thinking. And what is striven for by this transfer of the scientific state of mind into social thinking, that great prison of humanity, where one man is supposed to be just a copy of another in the social sphere as well, as for example in Leninism or Trotskyism, there it is taken to the point of paradox, but indeed to the point of the most tragic paradox. Everywhere one looks – and I have only pointed to an extreme, a radical case – one sees, one could say, how the scientific state of mind seeks to achieve this levelling of humanity, as if it were flowing out in the developmental tendencies of our time. This is basically one of the main forces that can be found in the signature of current human development: this levelling from the perspective of theory, of thinking, of research. This is not to say anything against the justification of this research, as can be seen from my remarks yesterday. For on the ground of natural science this research is fully justified, and it has led science and technology to the great, fully justified triumphs, which I do not need to describe here.

However, this one pole of modern human development is juxtaposed with another one that is no less characteristic of the present spirituality of humanity. To the same extent that humanity strives towards this levelling out through intellect and intellectual observation of nature, to the same extent does the individual and the personal take revenge on human nature; polarities arise everywhere in the world, and here too there is an inner polarity. And we see how, in contrast to the levelling out just described, the instinctive forces of human nature come to the fore. One is tempted to say that the impulses of the will emerge from the individuality of the human being with instinctive force, right down to the animal level. While people strive towards a certain leveling with their heads, the most personal element in the human being asserts itself everywhere, that which distinguishes the individual human being from every other human being to the greatest extent. So that at the moment when we disregard the thoughts that people might have about the world in the indicated scientific sense, and move on to what people feel, what people recognize as the basis, as the impulse of their will, we can see how people completely miss each other, how the individual no longer has any kind of understanding for the other. Only in the narrowest circles is there still an understanding, often artificially cultivated, from one person to another. People do not understand each other today. We talk so much about social ideals, about artificial institutions that are supposed to bring about a social life, and this is mainly for the reason of deceiving ourselves about the elementary fact that we have actually become terribly anti-social in our instinct, in our development of will and feeling. An anti-social element runs through humanity as soon as one disregards the life of thought and looks at what actually lives in the depths of the emotional life and in the depths of the impulses of the will. This is the great controversy of our time, in which humanity is embroiled: on the one hand, it seeks to level the mind and, on the other, it develops a differentiation from the very depths of the human organization that has an incredibly anti-social effect.

This is basically the situation in which man finds himself. And from this question, which is one of the most important components in the signature of contemporary intellectual life, basically all other questions arise; basically, that is what has developed into such a terrible catastrophe in the second decade of the 20th century.

If you follow the judgments floating on the surface, how nations and people judge each other, how they assign guilt and innocence to each other, how they talk about what they want to recognize as right or wrong, then you have only a surface view of everything that is said on the surface. In the depths below, the antagonism and polarities of which I have just spoken rage.

In a certain sense, anthroposophically oriented spiritual science is juxtaposed to this. It wants to become a matter for the whole human being, for the fully human being, and wants to take hold of his feelings and will. On the one hand, as I explained yesterday, it draws from sources of knowledge that learn to look into the human interior. It draws from certain abilities that can be developed beyond the everyday through the method I mentioned yesterday. From these latent powers of knowledge, dormant in ordinary life and in ordinary science, it draws out something that looks down into human nature, into those regions that are covered in ordinary life by the so necessary power of remembrance, by memory, just as the space behind a mirror is covered by the mirror. If we break through what our memory power faces, as I suggested yesterday, and develop powers of supersensible insight, then we will indeed, as I indicated yesterday, first of all gain insight into the human organs themselves in their vitality. We arrive at the point where a living medicine must search, where a living anthropology must search. But we then go beyond what we find in the present human being as the spiritual-material, to the prenatal human being, or rather to the human being as he was in the spiritual world before he entered this earthly life through conception. We arrive at a real expansion of those powers of the human soul life that would otherwise - filling the period of time that lies between a few years after our birth and our present moment - only extend to this life within our earthly existence. By breaking through memory, we attain a higher soul power, a higher power of knowledge; we attain the ability to behold the spiritual-soul essence of the human being as it was before the human being was conceived for this earthly life. And from there the current then flows, which is so difficult for today's man to think about: the current of penetrating from self-knowledge to world knowledge.

I know very well, my esteemed audience, how much paradox is found in what I have described of world knowledge in my “Occult Science”. But anyone who can find their way into this growth of a supersensible power of knowledge, into this — I would rather not use the expression at all because it is so often misused today — into this true, genuine clairvoyance, will find how what is otherwise only given for a small span of time in the ability to remember expands, how it expands into a power of knowledge of the world.

What is presented here – of course, people always say that it should be proven. But those who constantly speak of proving at every opportunity have never familiarized themselves with the nature of proving itself. Only what is at least suspected as a fact can be proven. All other so-called proving is a dialectical playing with concepts, a piling up of concept upon concept. And humanity only succumbs to great illusions when it comes to this kind of proof, which is so often demanded; this is not to object to justified proof, of course. The anthroposophical researcher simply has to point out what arises when the cognitive faculty is expanded in the way indicated. And I would like to suggest what happens in the following way.

If we look at our ordinary, earthly memory, we can say that this memory, together with all the experiences we have gone through from a certain point in our earthly existence, forms us. These experiences are initially mostly in the subconscious of the human organization at the present moment. We either bring them up voluntarily or they drift up into consciousness by their own power. Memories emerge from the stream of experiences we have gone through. And the possibility of remembering must be continuous in order for our soul life, our soul condition, to be a healthy one. We as human beings, by having this possibility of remembering, not only stand within ourselves, but we are also connected with everything with which we are connected through experiences in the outer life. Through our healthy reflection, we can already find out the difference between the image that emerges today as an after-experience in our memory, and that intense, saturated experience that was once there, that lives in our memory, the memory of which has remained with us from what had united us with the world. When we had an experience, we were involved in it as human beings; we were connected to the objects; the objects poured their essence into our personality. Everything that was experienced intensely, that we went through with the outside world, with nature or with other people, was transformed into images, and from these images we conjure up the experience again. Why can we conjure up what we have experienced in the present? Because we were once connected to it as human beings, because we were one with the outside world during the experience.

If you take a look at what anthroposophical spiritual science has achieved in the most diverse fields of knowledge, you will realize how, in everyday life, we only ever see part of what we are. We must indeed expand our powers of knowledge if we want to look down into our own inner being. Take just what I have already said: that when we break through our ordinary powers of remembrance, we first look down into the living context of our organization, and then, through the organization, we look beyond into the forces within which we lived in a purely spiritual and soul existence before our earthly existence. Man's entire being is connected with the entire existence of the world. And just as he, as a human being, who is enclosed between birth and death, is only connected with what he has enjoyed or experienced together with the world in the characterized way, so he is connected with the entire human development of the earth and also with the development of the earth itself, through what one then discovers through further research within oneself. It is nothing less than an overcoming, a breaking through of memory, and a re-emergence of memory power on a higher level. By overcoming the power of memory on a small scale, which preserves our earthly experiences, we arrive at a higher level of a new power of memory, through which we can develop images of the destinies that the earth itself has gone through in other planetary forms, as I have described in my “Occult Science”. And just as we conjure up in pictorial form what we have experienced since our birth through our everyday memory, so, if we get to know the whole human being through spiritual science, we can conjure up what the whole human organization has been through, what it was connected with: the entire development of the world. For the human being is a microcosm. We are not dealing with a different world from the one with which we ourselves were connected. This is what I have shown in my “Occult Science”.

Thus we see, my dear audience, how anthroposophical spiritual science becomes an expansion of human consciousness. We see how, by descending into the depths of the human being, we simultaneously ascend into the objective evolution of the world. To the same extent that we momentarily renounce the ordinary inner life, we enter into this inner life that would otherwise have remained the objective outer life. In the same moment that one submerges into the regions that are otherwise withdrawn from consciousness, one emerges into those regions that have formed us as objective beings, as human beings, out of the entire cosmos. This is the only way that the world knowledge that anthroposophical spiritual science seeks to provide can come about.

In view of the present situation, as I have characterized it, the objection of the modern human being to such world knowledge is: Yes, but there one enters a region in which subjectivity can assert itself in any arbitrary way. And it is always pointed out with a certain sense of well-being, one might say, by certain people that the most diverse spiritual researchers who were already there have given account in the most diverse ways of what they have seen in the universe. However, this diversity is mainly emphasized by those who have not really dealt with what is said by the most diverse spiritual researchers in an intimate way. Just as it seems understandable that a tree looks different when photographed from different sides – and that an overall picture of the tree is actually only formed in an external way when the tree is photographed from four or six sides, and these photographs are then viewed together – it should also be quite understandable that a person who applies the spiritual-scientific method to his own soul life naturally starts from his subjective point of view, but that as he advances in his research, the point of view from which he stands will surely become apparent. And just as photographing a tree from a certain side is objectively [correct], so too can the description of a spiritual scientist be objectively [correct] - even though it reads differently from that of another who has started from a different point of view. It will be noted, however, that the Anthroposophical spiritual science, which I have to represent, always endeavors to characterize that which is characterized from the most diverse sides, and that in this way it is to be compensated in a certain way for what can become one-sided through the description of only one point of view, which can occur when someone takes my books and compares them with each other in an abstract way and then says: Yes, this is what it says about one thing and that is what it says about another. This can easily be taken out of context and made to look like contradictions. But this arises from nothing other than the effort to describe things from the most diverse points of view, so that precisely through these particular turns of phrase in anthroposophical spiritual science a kind of comprehensiveness can be achieved.

Those who become thoroughly acquainted with what is sought and found on the inner path will be able to realize more and more clearly how an inner capacity develops there that is actually similar to what man has in the mathematical state of mind. It is the same in mathematics, where we have something that gives us a certain soul content that is derived entirely from the inner being. For mathematics is derived entirely from the inner being; we know that a mathematical truth is true when we have grasped it inwardly, even if millions of people say otherwise. What takes place in the soul when we know how to grasp a mathematical truth, which is both inward and outward at the same time, takes place in a similar way when we come to the inwardly objective through the subjective, which can really be present to us in anthroposophical spiritual science. Only the beginning of the research path is subjective, but the true anthroposophist remains silent about this. What then arises after the subjective idiosyncrasies of the researcher have been overcome is thoroughly objective, and one can speak of it as of an external observation made through the senses or also through the scales or with the measuring rod; just as one can speak of mathematical findings, only that these are formal, while the findings made through spiritual science are substantive.

This shows, however, that this anthroposophical spiritual science is above all concerned with speaking directly to the human being. That is also its task. While present-day science strives for standardization, in a sense strives to make one human being an imitation of another, anthroposophical spiritual science cannot but speak to each human being as to an individuality. This, I might say, is the direct social trust that one acquires in working for this anthroposophical spiritual science, that one does not want to put forward something that, because one has researched it, should now apply to all people, but through which one only wants to appeal to people by saying: one has researched the content of anthroposophical spiritual science oneself. But this content is the true content of human nature. When I speak to individuals, I do so in such a way that I do not speak to them in a generalizing way, but address each one as an individuality. I count on the fact that, because man is man, because human beings have the same soul, spirit and body, related strings will resonate, and what is struck by one person will come back from the innermost being in an individual way. One does not speak to people through anthroposophy as one otherwise does in science, as if one were seeking followers for something that has now been established. Rather, one speaks through anthroposophy in such a way that you appeal to the inner being of each individual and say: If you look into your own inner being, you will discover in this way in your own being that which I want to communicate to you because I have researched it. The way of speaking from person to person about spiritual science, all kinds of teaching, takes on a different tone, a different attitude, by wrapping the messages in formulas of anthroposophical spiritual science. This is what is effective in anthroposophical spiritual science against the signature of our time, as I have described it: that which, in turn, appeals from thinking, but from thinking from the fully human being, appeals at the same time to every single human being. The opposite of this is what is striven for in levelling. The individualization of the human being through knowledge and the development of the content of a worldview is striven for. This content of anthroposophical spiritual science is intended to be the most subjective and at the same time the most objective, the most personal and at the same time the most generally valid content of human scientific endeavor. Contemporary humanity needs this contrast to levelling. What I have described to you, which is basically an anti-social element, because it asserts itself as the opposite pole, arises from this leveling: the lack of understanding of one human being towards another. From anthroposophical spiritual science, loving understanding of one person towards another should arise; and above all, not only a general knowledge of human nature, a general anthroposophy, will come, but through what this general anthroposophy and world knowledge will be, a state of mind will be stimulated that in turn also includes loving understanding for every single peculiarity of our fellow human being.

A social life cannot be founded if it is not founded on the deepest, most sacred roots of human existence itself; but for the present phase of human development, these are the individual roots, as I indicated yesterday. Therefore, spiritual science will essentially give this other slant to the spiritual signature of the present time, which we need so urgently.

This means, however, that the other pole, which had to be characterized with reference to the signature of the present, will also take on a different character. In practical life, something will happen that is not an anti-social element, but a social element. This anti-social element, where does it actually come from? It comes from the fact that, precisely because head culture has reached a high point, the instincts of human nature prevail and take hold of feeling and will. What anthroposophical knowledge is shines into feeling and into will; it does not blunt the elemental power of feeling and will, as people so easily believe; it does not take away people's original naivety. No, when anything beautiful is illuminated, it does not lose its peculiarity, but it comes out even more. That which lies in the depths of human nature does not become duller when it is illuminated anthroposophically, but it is unfolded in just the right way, without the person having to suffer from today's disease, nervousness. Thought, in turn, shines into feeling; feeling takes hold of it, and by shining into feeling with thought, the “I think, therefore I am not”, the “I am only in the picture by thinking” — thinking is transformed into being. And only by immersing ourselves in the realm of the will, which is otherwise only experienced in sleep — for in ordinary cognition, what does man know of the relationship that exists between a thought that is to lead to the will and the raising of the hand? By means of this thinking, which delves spiritually into this volition, there develops what might be called the path leading from one human being to another in the clear light of spiritual knowledge. Humanity can only become a social whole if feelings and volitional impulses are illuminated, not by abstract, intellectualistic knowledge, but by higher vision. And it is through this infusion of higher vision that a true social science, a social ethics, will arise. It is precisely such a social ethics that my book The Philosophy of Freedom seeks to provide. There I showed that man can only feel free if he develops an impulse for action, for willing, out of purest thinking. Man could never feel free if he had to draw impulses of the will from any other basis. If we stand before a mirror and merely have an image before us – the comparison is more than a mere comparison – then this image cannot force us. If something pushes me, then I am forced by causality. If I look at the image, I cannot be forced; the image has no power in itself to force me. If I grasp my volitional impulses in the pure pictorial thought, then these pictorial thoughts have no causal power, no momentum. By recognizing the pictorial quality of thinking, one recognizes how, in pure thinking, free will is truly absorbed, so that the impulses for free action can only be found in the most individual part of the human being. But it is precisely through the will entering into this pure thinking, which is initially an image for us, and the will entering in, as is the case with loving social action or with higher supersensible knowledge, as you can see in the explanations in my book “How to Know Higher Worlds”, that otherwise pure thinking is filled with what is man's very own eternal being. And the first clairvoyance, ladies and gentlemen, is already there when a free decision of the will flashes through the mind. And basically all that I then give as a method for ascending to the highest spiritual worlds is nothing other than a metamorphosed formulation of what I have described in my Philosophy of Freedom as underlying free will. When one recognizes how, in this pure thinking permeated by the will, there is something in which man can grasp world events as if at a corner, then one also gradually learns to see how one can expand this state of mind, which otherwise only exists in the free action of man, in the way described yesterday, and how one can thereby come to supersensible knowledge. If man wants to know himself as a free being, he must begin with this true supersensible vision, otherwise freedom will always be something impossible for him. Freedom is also irreconcilable with natural causality — not even for a Kantian or for someone who at least claims to be one. And there is no other way to harmonize natural causality and human freedom than to see things as I have just described.

But then something else is established. What I have described in my Philosophy of Freedom as the basis of social will has been much, much misunderstood. People have objected: How are people supposed to work together in the social organism if everyone only follows the inner impulses of their individual being? — But that is not the point at all. The point is that through a real, genuine, true spiritual development of the human being, what I would call real social trust can be cultivated. A dignified existence in social life is only possible if we are not forced to act from the outside by commandments or other means, but if we are free to act from the innermost urge of our being. But then we must be able to develop this great trust in the other person, the trust that he will gradually come to act from the innermost urge of his human nature as well. And as man progresses to the innermost part of his nature and gradually such an understanding develops from one to the other, a social ethic, a social organism, will be able to arise out of the individual shaping of the individual will through full mutual trust. - So what conscious trust is depends on what, in the sense of man's striving today, can only be seen as social will.

One can best see how anthroposophical spiritual science relates to the current signature of spiritual life by looking at what has gradually become of the religious conception of humanity from the underground movements that I have just characterized. Spiritual science is repeatedly attacked from this very quarter, with the accusation that spiritual science seeks to enter the supersensible worlds through knowledge, but that precisely in this, it is said, the essence of religious life consists: that one does not know that in which one has trust as a divine world order, that one therefore has a merely subjective trust. So, according to this, the essence of religion would consist precisely in developing a mere belief in it, and in excluding the certainty of knowledge. But my dear audience, this certainty of faith, which is identical with what we might call trust, cannot be established in the religious life by anyone who honestly reflects on these matters, except through what follows from a truly supersensible knowledge. A historical consideration could teach humanity this. Where do today's people, who rebel against anthroposophy in the manner indicated, take their religious trust from? Is it something truly elementary? That is a mere illusion. It is the remnants of the historical religions. They are the remnants of what has developed in history as the historical religions. In the sense of anthroposophical spiritual science, these religions have their full justification, and their ultimate height, through which the development of the earth has received its true meaning, has received its highest height in Christianity. Christianity contains what can be regarded as the original religion, the last form of religion to which humanity has been able to ascend, and which must continue to be the one for the rest of humanity's time. Anthroposophical spiritual science not only does not touch Christianity, but it is the first to establish it in a deeper sense. But on the other hand, it must be said: where did religions get their content from? They got it — this can be historically proven — from spiritual visions, albeit from ancient instinctive spiritual visions. Religions have acquired their supersensible content from ancient instinctive visions in no other way than that which spiritual science in anthroposophical orientation now seeks to show scientifically. This content has been handed down and is to be found in scripture and tradition. Religions would have no content if there had not once been instinctive supersensible visions of human beings. From this, and from many other things, it can be seen how wrong it is to say that the anthroposophical side should not point the way to the supersensible worlds, for the supersensible worlds must be preserved for the religions precisely as the distant unknown, to which one cannot come through knowledge, but only through naive trust and belief. The value of religions will reveal itself when it is illuminated by the light of knowledge. Those who believe that the greatness and significance of Christianity could be affected by any kind of spiritual-scientific discovery are fundamentally weak Christians. In my opinion, those who believe that one should not approach Christianity with any kind of science because it could suffer from it are weak Christians. Just as there is nothing about America in the Gospels, but America must be accepted as a reality, so must the repeated lives on earth be accepted, even though the Gospels say nothing about them.

This is what makes anthroposophy a matter of time, out of a certain state of mind. I have presented this in my “Riddles of Philosophy”, where I have shown how the individual philosophical views up to the present day tend to converge into the anthroposophical view. So that in fact from the signature of the spiritual present one can read how one can ascend to the anthroposophical worldview.

I would now like to sketch this signature of the spiritual present for you with a few strokes, from anthroposophy itself, so that you can see that the one who stands on the ground of anthroposophy does not shy away from to communicate the results of his research, which he has explored along the path I have described to you, and which are as certain to him as the results of astronomy, physiology, biology, and botany.

If we look back over a relatively short span of human development with an anthroposophically sharpened eye, we find, for example, that we cannot understand Greek culture. In the previous lecture, Dr. Heyer pointed out how human consciousness has changed in the course of historical development. In order to substantiate this purely empirically, we need only look at the special nature of the Greek consciousness. Herman Grimm, who, although challenged in many respects, had retained the keen eye of a historical observer for such things, pointed out our relationship to the Greeks with the following sharp words. He said: What the Romans have experienced, how a Caesar, a Brutus has lived, that we can understand. Our elements of consciousness have not changed so much since then that we could not understand that. What is told to us by Alcibiades, by Pericles, by Plato, by Sophocles, people only imagine they understand if they remain on the standpoint of today's understanding of humanity. The figures of Pericles and Alcibiades, who only emerge shadow-like before the ordinary ideas of humanity, are actually like fairy-tale heroes. Herman Grimm sees fairy-tale figures throughout Greek history. Spiritual science is called upon to bring about what can expand consciousness, so that one can truly change one's inner soul state, so that one can in turn stand within this particular inner experience of the Greeks. And here we must say: this experience of the Greeks was based on a historical law, the full extent of which is only now being recognized by anthroposophical spiritual science. It is the law that I will now characterize in the following way.

The further we go back in human development, to Greek, Egyptian, Persian and Indian cultures and prehistoric times, the more we find that the entire human constitution is actually different. We see today that in childhood life develops in such a way that the soul life is bound to a high degree to the bodily organization. Take my little book The Education of the Child in the Light of Anthroposophy or other things I have said about education, and you will see how, with the change of teeth in the seventh or eighth year, the whole soul constitution of the child changes. And from ordinary life we know how the whole soul constitution of a human being changes when he reaches sexual maturity. It is less noticeable that similar changes take place at the beginning and the end of the twenties; these take place more inwardly, but they are quite clearly still present even for the modern human being. When we come to the later years, to the thirties, the soul and spiritual life of the human being becomes highly independent of the physical. We enter a stage of our development in which we change our soul through external experience, through being with the world. We no longer change our soul through what happens in us in such a way as the change of teeth, sexual maturity, or the changes after the age of twenty. But what extends in us more during the youthful years until the end of the twenties, in ancient times extended up to the high age of man. This law is a historical law. This can be observed by those who have acquired the ability to observe the inner soul life, which shows us, in the remnants that still occur today in old people, that such a development was once present. If we know this, then we can look back, for example, to the ancient Indian times, to times that lead into prehistory, where man's soul and spiritual life was dependent on physical development up to the fifties. One became a patriarch at the same time through physical development and in spiritual development, just as today one becomes a sexually mature person both physically and spiritually. This harmony of the physical with the soul-spiritual went up into old age in ancient times. In those ancient times, man also experienced the descending line of physical development, which begins around the age of 35. Until then, our organism grows and sprouts; from then on, it goes downhill, from then on, there is a descending development. Today, we do not go through this descending development in the same way; we are certainly weighed down by old age, but that is different from what it was in ancient times. In ancient times, as the external physical body became stiffer and drier, there was a simultaneous bright illumination of spirituality, so that in the patriarchal age one grew into a certain spirituality through natural development. What was still present in older times for older ages was still present for the Greeks until their mid-thirties. What the Greeks still went through until about the age of 35, we as human beings in our thirties simply no longer go through and therefore no longer radiate it into our social lives. This brought into the whole social life of the Greeks what, for example, Goethe felt when he was driven by longing in Italy to relive Greek culture and where he said: But when I look at these Greek works of art and see how the Greeks, in creating their works of art, followed the same laws that Nature herself follows in creating her works of nature, then I feel necessity, then I feel God. The Greeks were only able to reproduce the laws of nature in their works of art by feeling themselves in the harmonization of the spiritual and mental and the physical and bodily, which occurs when a person reaches the middle of their life in full, physical development. They were only able to do this in their most excellent exemplars [...] because they were able to experience this themselves. From this organization of body and soul there arose the Greek way of artistic creation, the Greek way of religious feeling, and also the Greek way of thinking in medicine. That was the signature of the spiritual life in humanity, which simply arose from the fact that in the thirties what I have described was experienced. One could say: Just as the equilibrium of the balance-beam is experienced in the middle of the beam, so the Greeks experienced the equilibrium of human life in that they still grasped the interplay of soul and spirit into the middle of their thirties. We no longer grasp it. If I am to continue in the same vein, we only achieve physical development that still has an influence on the soul until the end of our twenties in today's age. As a result, in our later years, what arises from the depths of human nature and permeates the world view ceases. But this has also brought about the necessity that what no longer develops naturally in humanity after the age of 28 must be consciously achieved through anthroposophical spiritual education, that what used to arise from human nature itself must now actually be inwardly achieved by the soul. This has become the signature of our time: we only live within the physical realm in our younger years. This is what has now also, and in fact - now I may say it without being misunderstood - legitimately led into materialism. For the child, in looking at itself, must be materialistic, because spirituality first breaks away from matter. We have become materialistic as humanity in the newer centuries to the extent that we are bound to the age that is in the ascending material, organic development, and the less we still receive from nature in the descending development after the age of 35.

This is the signature of our time. It has led us into materialism, as we as humanity have abandoned ourselves to unconscious forces in the last few centuries.

What anthroposophical spiritual science wants is for us to receive from the spirit what nature no longer gives us, just as naively as we used to receive it from nature, to develop the courage to receive from the spiritual realm what we can no longer receive from the natural realm. The spiritual signature of our time points out to us the necessity of developing our full humanity, which we can no longer obtain from nature, out of spiritual, free will activity. This does not establish a decadence. No, decadence is established precisely by the fact that in a time that demands the spirit, one only wants to abandon oneself to nature. Materialism has emerged as a necessary phenomenon. Overcoming materialism must likewise occur as a necessary phenomenon. Anthroposophical spiritual science believes it can read this from the signs of the times, from the signature of the times. From this consciousness of the world and humanity, it wants to have an effect.

People who have delved a little deeper into the signature of our time and who have spoken out in recent times have basically only ever pointed out in a negative way what forces of decline are at work in our time and what must basically be the case if we consider the development of the human race that we have just characterized. There is no need to refer to Spengler, who is much referred to today, but one can refer to one of our best philosophers, Gideon Spicker, who wrote his work out of a broad-minded consciousness and who repeatedly pointed out how man in our time can no longer create the connecting bridge to that which, in full consciousness, gives him his true humanity, that which in turn connects him to the eternal, that which allows him to be permeated by the divine-eternal. And Gideon Spicker spoke words worth heeding in 1909, in which he described the signature of our time in his own way. He said: We have come to have metaphysics without supersensible conviction; a theory of knowledge without objective meaning; a logic without content, a psychology without soul, an ethic without commitment and a religion without reason. —

Now, my dear attendees, dear fellow students. Anthroposophy wants to give people a theory of knowledge again that leads to reality, because reality is both material and spiritual. Anthroposophical spiritual science wants to give people a real conviction of the supersensible world by showing the way to see this world. Anthroposophical spiritual science wants to establish a logic that in turn delves into the reality of things. Anthroposophical spiritual science wants to speak of a soul life as reality, not just of the soul life that we interpret pictorially from the scientific results of anthropology. Anthroposophical spiritual science aims to create a binding social ethic from the foundations of humanity. And anthroposophical spiritual science aims to provide a religious conviction that is based on knowledge, on the vision of that which must exist in religious life as the divine existence.

In this way, anthroposophical spiritual science aims to have an effect on the signature of our time, but not because it arises from some utopian sense or arbitrary decision, but because it appears necessary in the most essential sense for our age to those who are now able to observe the greatest need and deepest longing of our time.

Question: The principle of direct observation [in teaching] has been rediscovered in recent times. Now it turns out that when the child leaves school, they are helpless when it comes to thinking about life. They have been so taken by direct observation that they can only see the picture.

Rudolf Steiner: This is an extraordinarily important pedagogical question of the present day, the question of the concreteness or the exclusive concreteness of teaching. Now perhaps this question is not so specialized, but can only be treated exhaustively by looking at pedagogical thinking as a whole. I would like to mention first of all that teaching in the Waldorf school is based on our knowledge of human development. It is certainly not the case that the Waldorf school is a school of world view, but the educational skill, the educational methodology, the educational handling of things that can be achieved from an anthroposophical state of mind should be put into practice to benefit the Waldorf school. In this practical respect, the insight that children up to about the age of six or seven imitate everything plays a major role. Children continue to imitate up to this age. This means that at this age, at kindergarten age, one should not actually teach in the usual sense, but should rely on the child's ability to imitate. You see, when you have been dealing with such things for decades, as I had to, you gain all kinds of experience. People come to you and ask about all sorts of things. Once a father came to me, very unhappy, and said: What should we do, our boy, who has always been a good boy, has stolen. — I asked the father: How old is the boy? - Four to five years. – Then, I said, we must first examine whether he really stole. – The examination showed that he had not stolen at all, the little boy, even though he had taken money from a drawer. He had only seen every day that his mother gave money to the delivery people from her drawer. He thought: if that's how my mother does it, then it must be right – and he simply took money from the drawer too. He bought sweets, but did not eat them himself, but gave them away. The child was simply an imitator, according to his age. What he did was simply an act of imitation. The point is that you don't actually lead children of this age to believe anything that they are not allowed to imitate. Then begins the age of life that starts with the change of teeth and ends with sexual maturity, which is the actual elementary school age. This elementary school age simply demands – what is demanded today from some party lines must be set aside, the factual must be placed in the foreground – this age demands that the child learns to understand and act on the basis of authority. It is of the greatest importance for the whole of later life, especially for the education of the young for later difficult times and for everything that may happen in life, that the child at this age, from about seven to fourteen years, accepts something on the basis of authority. This relationship of a natural authority of the teacher and educator to the child is something that cannot be replaced by anything else for the human being in his or her whole later life. It would be easy to find proof of what cannot be replaced later in life if one has not had the good fortune to have a natural authority in one's life.

And so it is at this age that the question of object lessons arises. The object lessons that are demanded today have grown out of materialism in their extreme form. Everything is simply placed before the eye. They believe in nothing but what is before their eyes; so everything should be placed before the child. But not only the difficulties you have emphasized arise, but also others that arise on the part of the teachers. Take the auxiliary books written for teachers, in which instructions are given for visual instruction. The banalities and trivialities that are served up there are nothing short of monstrosities. There is an instinctive constant striving to push everything to the lowest possible level. This is the kind of visual instruction in which you teach the child nothing more than what he already knows. This is the worst possible teaching, which provides insight in this way. The best teaching is that which not only caters for childhood, but for the whole of a person's life. If life is not such that one still has something to gain from one's time sitting at school in one's forties or fifties, then the teaching was bad. One must be able to look back on one's school lessons in such a way that there are living forces in this reminiscing. We also grow, of course, as our limbs become larger and many other things within us are also transformed; everything about us grows. When we teach children concepts, ideas and views that do not grow, that remain, and on which we place great emphasis, we are violating the principle of growth. We must present things to the child in such a way that they are placed in the context of living growth. We cannot do this with trite, banal object lessons, but rather when we as educators face the child, imponderables come into play. I very often use an example like this: let us assume that we want to teach the child a concept - one that can be understood purely from the knowledge of the psychology of the child at a certain age -: the concept of immortality. One can make this tangible through natural processes, for example, through the transformation of a butterfly from a chrysalis. One can say: the immortal soul in man is contained in it, like the butterfly in the chrysalis, only that it develops in a spiritual world, just as the butterfly develops from the chrysalis. This is an image. One can teach this image to the child in two different ways. The first is this: one imagines, “I am the teacher, I am tremendously clever; the child is young and terribly stupid.” So I set up this symbol for the child to represent this concept. Of course I have long since outgrown this, but in this way the child is to grasp the immortality of the soul. Now I am explaining this in an intellectualistic way. This is not the way to teach a child; not because what I have said is wrong, but because I am not attuned to the child in the right way. When I immerse myself in anthroposophical spiritual science, it is not an image that makes me feel smarter than the child, but a truth. Nature itself has created the butterfly that emerges from the chrysalis at a lower level, and the passage through the gate of death at a higher level. If I bring what is so vividly alive in me to the child, then the child will benefit from it. You can't just say that something should be done in a certain way; instead, it depends on imponderables, on a certain state of mind that you yourself have as a teacher – that is what is important. Difficulties arise when one stops at the flat illustrative teaching, which is becoming more and more impersonal; at the age when the teacher should play the important role as a self-evident authority, he withdraws. There are, for example, certain things that should simply be handed down to the child on the authority of an adult. Not everything can be taught to the child on the basis of direct experience — for example, moral concepts: here one cannot start from direct experience, nor from mere commandments; these can only be conveyed to the child through the authority of an adult. And it is one of the most significant experiences one can have in later life, when one has absorbed something in the eighth, ninth, or twelfth year because a revered personality regards it as correct. This relationship to a revered personality is one of the imponderables of . You reach the age of thirty, and with a certain experience it comes up from the depths of human consciousness; now you understand something that you actually took in twenty or thirty years ago, at that time on authority. This means something tremendous in life. This is in fact a living growth of what one has taken in during childhood. That is why all this discussion about more or less intuition is not so important. These things must arise out of the object itself. Even the discussion about more or less thinking and so on is not very important. The important thing is that teachers are put in their rightful place, that the human element is brought together in the right way in a school organization. That is the main goal. You can't do anything with curricula or anything that can be formulated in paragraphs in real life – and teaching and educational life is real life. Because if three or six or twelve people sit down together, regardless of their antecedents, from which circle, from which education they come, they will be able to work out an ideally beautiful curriculum. If you somehow put something together in paragraphs out of reflection, it can become ideally beautiful, the most wonderful things can be in it. I am not mocking, it does not have to be bad, it can be extraordinarily beautiful and magnificent, but that is not the point. The point is that in the school, which has a number of teachers, real life takes place; each of these teachers has their own special abilities, that is the real thing, and that is what has to be worked with. What use is it if the teacher can see: this and this is the teaching goal? - That is just an abstraction. What he can be to the children as a personality, by the fact that he stands in a certain way in the world, that is what matters.

The question of schooling in our time is essentially a question of the teacher, and from this point of view all the more detailed questions, such as the question of practical instruction and the like, should be treated. Can children, for example, be taught in a very extreme way through visual instruction? I must say that I feel a slight horror when I see these tortures with the calculating machines in a class, where they even want to transform things that should be cultivated in a completely different way into visual instruction. If you just want to continue with pure visual instruction, you will, of course, end up with clumsy children. This is the result of unbiased observation. It has nothing to do with phenomenology, with phenomenalism: in order to develop proper phenomenalism, you first have to be able to think properly. At school, you are dealing with pedagogical methodology, not with scientific methodology. But one must know how closely proper thinking is connected not only with the brain and the mind of the person, but with the whole person. It depends on the way in which someone has learned to think, on the skill in the fingers. For in reality, man thinks with his whole body. It is only believed today that he thinks with the nervous system; in reality he thinks with the whole organism. And the reverse is also true: if one can teach a child quick thinking in the right way, and even presence of mind to a certain extent in a natural way, one is working for physical dexterity; and if one carries this quickness of thinking to the point of physicality, then the children's dexterity also comes to one's aid. What we have now established in the Waldorf school is much more important: instead of the usual visual instruction in manual skills, the children move on to self-forming, through which they get a sense of the artistic design of the surface. This then leads in turn to the mathematical conception of the surface in later years. This living into the subject matter, not through mere visual instruction for the senses, but through a living together with the whole environment, which is achieved for the whole human being, is what we must work towards.

I just wanted to point out that such questions should be placed in the context of pedagogical thinking as a whole, and that today we spend far too much time discussing specifics.

Rudolf Steiner (in response to other questions): What has been said and often emphasized must be noted: the Waldorf School does not want to be a world view school as such. The fact that it is based on anthroposophical soul-condition is only the case insofar as it is implemented in educational practice. Thus, what is at issue in the Waldorf School is the development of what can be achieved through the anthroposophical movement by purely pedagogical means. The Waldorf School does not want to be, and cannot be, a school of world view in any sense. That is why the Waldorf School has never claimed the right to provide religious instruction for the children in its care. What individual anthroposophists believe about worldviews is not the point. The important thing is that anthroposophy in schools and all that goes with it is intended to have an effect only in the pedagogical practice. For this reason, the religious education of the Catholic children was handed over to the Catholic priest and that of the Protestant children to the Protestant pastor. Now it turned out – this simply came about due to the current circumstances – that there were quite a lot of dissident children who would actually have grown up without religion. For these children, religious education is now provided, but it is not considered part of the school, rather it is presented as free religious education alongside Protestant and Catholic religious education. We have at least had the success that children who would otherwise not have been admitted to any religious education at all now grow up with a religious life as a result. This is a free religious education that is taught by someone who understands it and is called to do so, like the others who teach Catholic and Protestant religion. However, it must be strictly maintained that the intentions of the Waldorf School are not to promote any particular world view. The aim is not to indoctrinate children with anthroposophy but to apply anthroposophy in practice. So questions on this topic are irrelevant. At the beginning we had to find an appropriate approach to what follows from practice. We have our views about how a seven-, eight- or nine-year-old child should be taught, and these are appropriate. We believed that we had to decide these things on the basis of purely objective principles. Now, of course, the Waldorf school is not an institution for hermits or sects, but an institution that wants to fully engage with life, that wants to make capable people out of children for the sake of contemporary, very practical life. Therefore, it is important to organize the lessons in such a way that, on the one hand, the strict pedagogical requirements are met, and on the other hand, it is important that the Waldorf school is not just any institution for eccentrics. I then worked out the matter in such a way that from the time of entering school until the completion of the third class, you have an absolutely free hand in the individual years, but by the time they have completed the third class, the children are ready to transfer to any school. From the ninth to the twelfth year, you again have a free hand, and then the child must be ready to transfer to any other school, and the same applies when they have completed primary school. We are currently setting up one class each year; what happens next remains to be seen.

As you can see, it is not a matter of working from party-political views, worldviews or anything like that, but purely of putting anthroposophy into pedagogical practice. The ideal would be that the children initially — because Anthroposophy is only developed for adults, we have no children's teaching, and have not yet been in a position to want to have one — would not know that there is an Anthroposophy, but that they would be kept objective and thus placed in life. These things cannot be achieved in the ideal: no matter how hard the teacher tries to remain objective, one child will live in the circle of these parents, the other in the circle of those parents; there are also anthroposophical fanatics, and their children bring anthroposophical mischief into the school, as well as all kinds of other things. It must be made absolutely clear that it can never be a question of the Waldorf School in any way being a school of world view or anything of the sort. It is not that at all, but it wants to make children into capable people in the immediate present, that is, in the life in which we are placed within the state and everything else, so that they are capable within it. It is self-evident that the Waldorf school does not bring the ideas of threefolding into the school. This cannot happen through the efforts of Waldorf education. No party politics are brought into the Waldorf school from the anthroposophical side.

Question: Isn't the methodology that the pastor uses somewhat opposed to the rest of the teaching? Isn't there a conflict here?

Rudolf Steiner: You can't achieve anything completely in life. It would be very nice if we could find not only a Protestant pastor but also a Catholic one who would teach according to our methodology. As I said, our school only wants to put pedagogical practice into practice, not a worldview. The other can go hand in hand with this. Now it is self-evident that in free religious education — because after such, only by anthroposophists to be held, was asked —, also after our methodology is proceeded. It would be very dear to us if the Protestant and Catholic lessons were also given in this way, but we have not yet achieved that.

Question: What is the content of the material taught to anthroposophical children?

Rudolf Steiner: The material is determined in such a way that an attempt is made to take the child's age into account. This is what is always at the psychological basis. That is why it is important in all things that they are most effectively brought to the child when they are introduced at exactly the right age, when the child's inner being resonates most strongly with them. It is a fact that in the seventh or eighth year of life, little is achieved with objective gospel or Bible knowledge, and nothing at all with catechism knowledge. It is not absorbed by the child. This is an anthropological law. On the other hand, everything religious that can be directly formed from a certain shaping of natural processes is very well absorbed by the child at this age; all ethical and genuinely religious concepts that can be formed from natural processes. Above all, one can lead the child to religious feeling indirectly through images of nature. One can only lead the child to the actual Christian feeling from the age of eight, or even from the age of nine. It is only then that they begin to grasp what lies behind the figure of Christ Jesus, for example. These are the concepts that one must teach the child if they are to grasp the content of the Gospels. It is good if it has a foundation and is only introduced to the content of the Gospels around the age of nine, and then gradually led up to the deeper mysteries of Christianity. It must be emphasized that this free religious education is, in the most eminent sense, a thoroughly Christian one, in that the various denominations that take part in it are introduced to a real Christianity. It is the case that if you are a teacher at the Waldorf School, you have come to this [Christian] conviction yourself, from an anthroposophical point of view. You have entered into Christianity from this side. You might phrase it differently, but the children are introduced to a real Christianity. Just as we leave the Protestant and Catholic religious education to their own devices, we also leave the free religious education based on anthroposophy to its own devices. It has never been my intention to ensure that children come to this free religious education. They came in large numbers, but it is really not the aim to damage the external reputation of the school by making it happen in such a way that it could be said to be a school of world view. One does not want to be that at first. That is why we are careful about free religious education and only give it because it is requested.

I do not want to give a lecture in response to the remarks of the esteemed Mr. Strakosch, but please take what I am about to say only as a supplementary comment. Nor should it be taken as something conclusive in any sense.

When I was recently given the task of supervising the construction of the Dornach building, a saying kept ringing in my ears that I had heard when I was studying at the Technical University in Vienna and during that time the builder of the Votive Church in Vienna, the famous architect Ferstel, took up the post of rector at this university. He delivered his inaugural address on the history of architecture. Ferstel said something like this during his speech: architectural styles cannot be invented, they must emerge from the foundations of nationality. On the basis of this view, Ferstel explained the fact that the modern period could be less productive in terms of architectural styles because the folk soul, so to speak, did not bring anything like styles to the surface, and that it could only be more reproductive, which is why people resorted to ancient, to posophie talk, you can make anything out of these mystical foundations. You can do the craziest stuff. But anthroposophy is not allowed to do that. It is not allowed to do the craziest stuff. So that, as I said, you are in a position to have, on the one hand, the craziest stuff of modern mystics, and on the other hand, you have to perform an anthroposophical building that has to be justified before strict science, and you have the most modern material, concrete, with which you can do the craziest stuff, but you can't do that with a sense of style.

Now I want to make it clear: when you are working practically on the realization of a style, history is of no help at all. Historical observation is of no help at all. Everything that has to be done must come from a place of naivety, must truly come from a creative place. Otherwise, it cannot be done, and what must arise in a certain way, must practically arise in opposition to such a view as Ferstel expressed at the time: “Architectural styles cannot be invented, they must arise from the foundations of folklore.” One must simply come to the view with a certain stylistic conscience: the architectural style must be created out of a certain reality, out of a truth. It cannot be invented out of thin air, it must be created out of reality.

Now I would like to draw attention to a third point, which Mr. Strakosch also mentioned. He pointed out the Gothic style, which, with full justification, must be built out of concrete due to the circumstances, and the concrete substructure, which goes up to a certain height, had to be crowned by the actual structure, a wooden structure. You will also admit that the forms of the wooden structure are actually dictated by the material itself with a certain strictness. The wooden structure provides precisely what must arise from the interaction of need, purpose and sense of material. So in Dornach, there was a very specific style to be combined with something that Mr. Strakosch has said: you can do anything with it; you can build the craziest things out of concrete.

Now, if one is not predisposed to building the craziest things, then one actually has a different feeling towards concrete than towards wood. And here I must say, based on practical experience, the opposite of what has just been said. If you take all the antecedents of architectural styles, you can't really build anything out of concrete today. Not everything, but absolutely nothing. If you have a sense of style, you can't just take the “you can do anything” approach. You can only get started if you can use concrete as a material out of a certain stylistic conscience. In a certain respect, you are in a parallel situation with what sometimes occurs on anthroposophical ground at the moment. You see, from the misunderstood backgrounds of mystical contemplation and so on, which many people have in mind when they talk about mysticism, theosophy, anthroposophy today, you can make anything out of these mystical backgrounds. You can make the craziest stuff. But anthroposophy is not allowed to do that. It is not allowed to do the craziest stuff. So that, as I said, you are in a position to have, on the one hand, the craziest stuff of modern mystics, and on the other hand, you have to perform an anthroposophical building that has to be justified before strict science, and you have the most modern material, concrete, with which you can do the craziest stuff, but you can't do that with a sense of style.

Now I would like to make it clear: when you are working on the practical realization of a style, history is of no help at all. Historical reflection is of no help at all. Everything that has to be done must come from the realm of the naive, must really come from the realm of creativity. There is no other way to do it, which must in a certain way rebel, practically rebel against such a view as Ferstel expressed at the time: “Architectural styles cannot be invented, they must come from the foundations of folklore.” - One must simply come to the view with a certain stylistic conscience: The architectural style must be created out of a specific reality, out of a reality. It cannot be invented out of the blue, it must be created out of reality.

Now I would like to draw attention to a third point, which Mr. Strakosch also mentioned. He pointed out the Gothic style and showed, with full justification, how the Gothic style actually draws heavily from craftsmanship. And there is indeed a backward devotion to craftsmanship in the Gothic style. In one direction, the question of style was resolved by the combination of cross vaulting, pointed arches and flying buttresses that the Gothic style then developed. But if we consider the other aspect that has been emphasized, the matter takes on a different perspective. It was also said that the mere mechanical fitting together of the components would not result in the Gothic style, that certain forms and certain views live on in the Gothic style, which can be found in the Gothic style, and about which a certain secret has been kept, even in the “building huts”, which has been strictly guarded, and which now goes beyond the craftsmanship. We thus find an element that has been built into it, that can be found in the style, but which – it will be possible to admit this in the broadest sense – has actually been lost for the more recent period in terms of its actual essence, or at least in terms of its application. Today we no longer do what was done in those days out of the secrets of architecture, which arose out of quite different presuppositions, without the necessity of making strict calculations and the like. It is just these conditions that could, I am putting this hypothetically for the moment, be connected with other things. They could be connected with the fact that today the reproductive element rules: not really the productive creation of style rules, but the reproductive shaping of style rules. Perhaps it is precisely from those soul entities that have been very strictly preserved that those forces which underlie productivity and from which the productivity of style comes, flow. And perhaps this perplexity about style in recent times stems from the fact that we have lost a certain element in building. This element must be given special consideration in architecture because it has to conform to the strict laws by which a building must be constructed, must conform to the static and other conditions that Mr. Strakosch has discussed. In architecture, in the broadest sense, we are dealing with what scientifically based technology makes possible, and on the other hand we are obliged to incorporate a certain stylistic element into what we build.

The question now arises: Was not perhaps in older times what technology is much more closely tied to style than it is today? Was it not perhaps the case that the building rules that existed at the time were formulated in such a way that they included the technology, so that one could build safely, as it were, by simply following the results of these guarded rules? Were they not, despite being artistically stylish, perhaps also technically correct through and through?

You get such a feeling when you experience something like what could be experienced in Dornach. It occurred to me — as I said, the main things always arise out of naivety — to enclose the auditorium with a dome and to attach this dome to a smaller dome that was to crown the stage area. The question now was how to find the technique for the connection, and that was an important question in Dornach for quite some time. I felt the necessity to do it this way; on the other hand, it had to be technically feasible. Until we found the solution, I could only say that the right technical solution must be found for what arises out of the necessity of style, and that it must also show a certain perfection in terms of technique. These things must coincide. Of course, if something is conceived in an intellectualistic or inartistic way and one somehow wants to build a building without style, no technical problem will arise for it. But if something is really found in the foundations where the style must lie, then the appropriate technique must also be found for it.

Now, as I said, the historical is of no help if one - if I may put it this way - has to create something like a style from a naive point of view. But afterwards one can still orient oneself towards what the development may lead to. And here I would like to add something to what has just been said, which may initially seem somewhat paradoxical in the present, like so many things that have to be said from anthroposophical spiritual science, but which will probably prove to be thoroughly practical in the course of time, however fantastic it may seem to some people today.

I do not want to go back to Oriental or Egyptian architecture, which has been sufficiently considered just now, but I want to refer first to what is already on the foundations of what has emerged from Oriental-Egyptian architecture, I want to refer to Greek architecture, and there again - first disregarding everything else - to Greek temple construction. But I do not want to touch on the technical side of things now, but rather on the style.

I believe that anyone who studies Greek architecture more closely will find that the forms cannot really be grasped if one concentrates too much on the static element. Greek architecture definitely takes static elements into account – this is clear. They are there, but in an extraordinarily free way. They are everywhere in such a way that one sees: in a certain way, what we today call statics is handled quite freely. The bearing and the load are there. But they have not fallen into the trap of regarding what has been put there as decoration, nor, on the other hand, have they fallen into the trap of one-sidedness, of regarding it as merely static. There is an element hidden there that has perhaps been kept even more jealously than the secrets of the later masons' lodges, that has emerged from the original, instinctive views of humanity and that, in turn, can only be found through anthroposophical, spiritual scientific investigation. In a sense, these Greek temples are also functional buildings. A Greek temple, considered in itself as a mere structure, is never complete. If you take the statue of the god out of the Greek temple and look at it, you get the feeling that the most essential thing is missing. It was understood only as the dwelling of the god, and only if one assumes that the people actually only have something to do with the temple from the outside, that actually only the god should have his residence in it. But now it follows that the temple is the dwelling of the god, not much for those intuitions that flowed into the temple construction. One must go back to something else, especially with regard to the purpose of building a temple; if I may now call it that in a figurative sense: with regard to the question of need. In this regard, one can say that the purely external aspect of the temple's purpose is clear to anyone who wants to describe these things in a feature-like way; the fact that the temple is the dwelling place of the god. But this is not enough for those who want to go beyond the feature-like description and really understand the inner form of the temple. For this, it is necessary to add another element: that the Greek temple is to be seen as a transformation of the original burial vault, the burial building. The Greek temple cannot be understood otherwise than by seeing in it a metamorphosis of a burial building. But this leads back to times when the soul of the deceased was sought in the vicinity of the buried corpse. The building was actually erected in its forms for the soul, which should still be there, even when one passed from ancestor worship to the cult of the gods. The cult of the gods in the older religions was nothing other than a metamorphosed cult of ancestors; the old gods are basically ancestors, are thought of as ancestors, and the way in which the rule of the soul-spiritual was also a transformation of how the workings of the soul after death were viewed in the deceased person – in terms of the forms of perception, there was something that was strictly related to this. Now it was a matter of rebuilding a soul, and for that one had to come up with the right balance of power, the right statics, which was possible as an external statics, but at the same time served this purpose, to be a soul's reconstruction, so that the soul could dwell within; for the soul of the god had to dwell in just such a structure.

Where did the power relations come from? That is the big question. They were not calculated at all in such a way, as we are rightly learning today in our age. This was not understood in those older times. The little literature that still exists clearly shows that such a structure was not built from strict statics and mathematics and mechanics. But those older times had something else, and here I come to what is of course regarded as fantastic today, and can be regarded as such, however practical it actually is: the question is to find out by what means, let us say for example, the position of the center of gravity was found, the center of gravity that simply had to be placed in such a way that by looking at the building, one knew where it was. But not with the intellect, but with the feeling, the sense of style in particular, it was necessary to find out how to distribute the forces, how to distribute the material in order to get the right feeling. There was a soul dwelling within. In those ancient times, one did not have the abstract ideas of the soul that one finds today, for example, among our psychologists, where the soul is something very vague – for some it is a point that is sought at some point in the physical organization, and what more such nonsense is –; these abstract views of the soul did not have the old days. They had very definite views of the soul. It would be interesting to explain these views, but there is no time for that. It would be all the more interesting because the views that these ancients had about the soul, to a certain extent, contained what the descriptions of the old soul conceptions, for example in Wundt's philosophy, do not contain, but did not contain everything that Wundt describes of the old soul conceptions. These things are such that they cannot be grasped by a materialistic way of thinking. But they lived in ancient times and they lived so concretely that one could also connect with them concrete ideas with regard to the forming of the material. But how was that done? You see, everything that was built, everything that was designed in terms of static relationships, arose for older times, however strange it may seem today, from the human organization and its statics. And what was still considered in Greek times for architecture arose from the statics of the human limb organism. I do not mean the human limb organism only as a combination of arms and legs, but also, for example, the lower jaw and much in the middle human, the chest human and so on. But everything that lies within the human being with limbs could be studied. For example, you could try out how a certain connection of forces works when you squat down, say, with bent knees. You could see how the center of gravity relates to a certain system of forces, and you could see how the center of gravity relates to a certain system of forces when you tried out the best way to hold your mouth open to find the ideal center of gravity of the head, which you do at the lower jaw. It is interesting to study the strange shaping that is present in Greek sculptures with this slightly open mouth; it arose from a very specific study of the position of the lower jaw, which one experienced internally in its static and dynamic aspects.

And in the same way, you experienced the static and dynamic relationships that arise when you squat down and rest your arms on your knees, for example. You studied this dynamic in humans, and in older times especially in the human limbs. They observed the dynamics as they express themselves in the human being when walking – because the unfolding of very special inner static-dynamic conditions is needed for this walking – and from this they formed ideas about very specific static conditions; and what could be studied in the human organism itself, we find again in the formation of the temple buildings. It was said that what the human being has as a head is indeed a beautiful external expression of the physical human being, but it is just an expression for the physical human being. After all, the human being is a rational being precisely in order to be efficient in the physical world. Similarly, the trunk and respiratory system of the human being were thought of in a certain way. It was said that this is something that underlies the connection between the human being and the earthly environment. Head and chest were, as it were, left out when, in ancient times, people thought of the human being as a spiritual container. They thought in particular of what could not be directly animated in the human form; they thought of the balance of power that arises in the use of the limb-based human being. This limb-based human being was the vehicle through which the human being carried his soul into the earth here. The systems of forces that the person revealed entered into the soul; they were studied; and people wanted to see the soul surrounded by them even after death. What one could experience by carrying one's soul through life, that one most secreted into what one wanted as the enclosure of the soul, but not in an abstract way, but with all the concreteness and practicality of the old view.

Such things can only be studied externally by observing certain qualities of feeling. It is also possible – spiritual science provides complete certainty in what I have just explained – to gain a certain insight into such things from external symptoms. Consider what the Greek sculptor particularly wanted to show when he depicted the human being as a physical figure: tall legs and an extraordinarily large head by later standards; in Greek sculpture, the length of the head is contained eight times in the total length of the human being. He particularly looked at the head in that the head has a certain length, thus it has a limb organism. The Greek sculptor particularly studied the limb system of the head and in turn studied the limb system of the whole human being. Everything contained in one system of the human being is also contained in the other. The whole human being is in turn contained in the head, the arm and leg construction in the jaws, only one must then look at the head the other way around. So that one can say: In the case of the Greeks, the main focus of attention in man was the organization of the limbs — right up to the head. The limb system is expressed least in the chest and trunk of the human being; it recedes completely in Greek sculpture. It is actually the shortest and weakest part in Greek sculpture. High lower limbs, a large head in relation to the rest – that is precisely the focus of attention on that from which an inner static in man follows. And this inner static was carefully studied and carefully guarded. Therefore, in those days, being an architect was to be in possession of the knowledge that had been studied on the noblest of what could be studied, on man.

Now, the Middle Ages are approaching. Mr. Strakosch has excellently described how something else flows into the vaulting, into the pointed arch, how something lives in it. You can study what lives in it by turning your attention to how man was viewed in the Middle Ages. If you look at the medieval representation of man, you will see that the head is not contained eight times in the whole human figure, but about ten times. The legs are short. People have small heads, which means that the limb organism of the head recedes and that little attention is paid to the other limbs. Hence the huge, long trunk; it is the main thing in medieval sculpture, all attention is paid to it. If you study this statics – I have to express myself paradigmatically because of the limited time – if you study what was contained in the rules of the masons' lodges, you can find the secrets of that part of the human body that we today call the rhythmic part of the human body, that which is expressed in rhythm, in the statics of the rhythms, in that element that was added to the purely craftsmanship of the Gothic period. In a sense – one must not become fanciful when mentioning this matter – this is what trust in God is – Mr. Strakosch has correctly traced it back to its real meaning – it comes from the heart, it comes from the middle human being, not from the head human being. Thus we find that in the same period in which, as a result of the study of external nature and the study of pure mathematics and mechanics, which are to be applied to nature, the attention to man is lost, and those elements that lead to a style are also lost. For one can only achieve a style if one can shape in the external present that which one can study in the microcosm.

And if one is faced with the task of finding a new architectural style, then it is naturally a matter of creating from similar foundations again. It is a matter of returning to what follows from the human essence itself. Now, in our time of scientific development, this cannot be found as I have outlined it for two epochs of humanity, but only by ascending from the limb-man to the head-man through the rhythmic man. But you can't start with that, because he has already developed his abilities to the highest degree. The head human being is, after all, the one in which the individuality of the human being is most expressed in form. You can't use it in the same way as, for example, in Greek statics, where you had in the spatial drawing precisely what you can't see in a person when he is simply standing in front of you. Likewise in later times: one had this in the spatial drawing, which cannot be seen, but which only results from a feeling through those arches that make up the rhythmic human being.

Now, in the present, the only thing that can be done is to find the spiritually seen basis that underlies the actual spirituality of man. Therefore, something had to be done in the Dornach building that is not just a meeting room, but also a room that invites the individual to feel in it in such a way that he comes to self-knowledge at the same time. The Greek building was the frame for the soul. The Gothic building is, through everything I have just mentioned, the place of assembly; it is not complete unless the community, the assembly, is present within it. 'Assembly' is something that corresponds to the 'Duma' and is etymologically related to 'cathedral'. The assembly belongs there. Now we need a building that is so responsive to human beings that they can see the forms not in their external human form but in their imagination. If one wanted to build in the same way as before, one would fall back into intellectualized building, which would be impossible because it would no longer be art. In art, one must remain in intuition, but one must also find the style for what is now brainwork, namely our present-day statics. While the statics of the Greeks was entirely intuition, our statics today is a product of work, a brainwork, and we must find that which was precisely withheld from the Greeks. They built up what they saw as statics. For us, this comes from the intellect. Intuition must add what can only be given in intuition. The Dornach building, which is not at all symbolic, is constructed in this way. It is a slander to say that, because that would mean that the building was constructed in an unartistic way. It is absolutely the case that everything about this building is only artistically conceived, but in such a way that the artistic is shaped directly out of direct perception. It is, again, the arrival at a style, but in such a way that this style has been found in an equally naive way as it was created earlier, out of the necessity of direct perception. Therefore, anyone who comes to Dornach will be able to feel at home in this building, because it is executed in such a way that one finds oneself in it as one has always found oneself in real architectural works. There is truly nothing fantastic in the Dornach building; everything has arisen out of the stylistic conscience just concretely characterized. Therefore what would otherwise have happened could not occur. — Is that not so? Anthroposophy was there, had been there for many years before it needed a building like the Dornach building. Then a number of people who at that time considered themselves convinced of the basic truths of anthroposophy had the idea — it was not my idea — of building a structure of this kind for the special kind of life that arises from anthroposophy in an artistic and practical way. I was only given the task of finding the forms, the style, for this building. I was, so to speak, commissioned by the Anthroposophists. The building did not arise as a fact from my idea.

Now, it is not the case that today such things happen in such a way that one says: There is some kind of association, a society with this or that goal. That is the order of the day: you found societies and associations everywhere, and then you set up the programs that are to be carried out for this or that association. These programs are usually very clever, because when people get together, they can come up with the cleverest things intellectually, but with all that, they would get no further than a theory; with all that, they would get no further than, say, Wilson's Fourteen Points in the direction of world history. That is also a program of that kind, clever, but in relation to the real affairs of the world, something impracticable, something quite abstractly foolish, one might almost say. And then, when such an association is there that needs its own house, then it chooses some style from the available ones, according to which it has its building constructed. Anthroposophy, if it is honest with itself, cannot proceed in this way. That is not possible with anthroposophy. By being thoroughly honest with itself, it knows that it is bringing something into modern civilization, into modern cultural development, that has not been there before. Anyone who has a sense of style and other artistic feelings knows that all forms of art, including architecture, grow out of the way of thinking of a particular time, and that they cannot be understood at all without living with the whole person in the way of thinking of that time. That is why the old architectural styles are only reminiscences for us. We can only understand them to the extent that we can put ourselves in those ancient times. Therefore, for most people who cannot do that, much is incomprehensible.

Anthroposophy is something completely new, not in the sense of a theory but in the sense of life. It is something that can become art at the same time because it does not blunt the feelings as mere intellectualism does. Artists are often afraid of anthroposophy because they think of it as a theory like any other theory. Theory deadens everything artistic, but not anthroposophy. There, the impulses of feeling and will are stimulated. The whole human being is stimulated. Anthroposophy makes people more skillful in their hands — this should be considered today, when most men are so clumsy that they can't even sew on a torn-off trouser button. Therefore, we must really recognize that everything that is anthroposophical is included in skill, in manual dexterity, in human mobility. These are not just thoughts, but at the same time they are world forces in which man lives. Therefore, they can be built, sculpted, and painted in the same way that one builds, sculpts, and paints that which has been brought out of man in the way described.

Because anthroposophy is something new in our culture, a setting had to be found for it that could only exist for anthroposophy. That is to say, a style had to be found that arose out of its spiritual impulses. The building at Dornach stands in such a way that what can be said from the rostrum, the word that is there to proclaim the content of the spiritual world, is one way of speaking; another is the way seen in the setting of the building. Every column and every capital speaks exactly like the words spoken from the rostrum. There is a harmony, just as there was a harmony in the Greek soul between the vision of God and the building of temples. One must create from the impulses of the origin of art. Then something comes out that cannot be discussed: the style – the style that must be grasped from the whole person, from where one experiences the thoughts, which are more than mere thoughts, as forces that sit within one and pulsate through one's blood, so that one can also shape them externally.

I only wanted to make a few remarks, my dear fellow students, honored guests. I just wanted to point out how one can indeed arrive at finding styles again. No matter how imperfectly this may have been achieved in Dornach — I myself am the strictest critic of this building, which is only the first step — an attempt has been made to find the characteristic style of the period, to find again what belongs to the style. And that is why something is being placed in the style here that is real spirituality, one can also conquer the material that proves to be so brittle, as Mr. Strakosch described it, the concrete, so that one then says to oneself: Certainly, one cannot make anything out of concrete if one does not want to make the craziest stuff, but the craziest stuff is precisely the most style-less. You can only do something with concrete if you have the other prerequisites – whether they are practical prerequisites for a functional building or spiritual prerequisites for a building such as the School of Spiritual Science in Dornach – if you have what is alive within, within you; then you can say, even if you have concrete in front of you: It is not the case that concrete allows you to make anything out of it, but rather you can only place one thing in a single place. Where a human being has an earlobe, there could not be a big toe, nature would not allow it; when a certain mass of forces of the organism is present, only one thing can be formed in one place – if one lives in contemplation. That is what is meant when one speaks of a sense of style, of a firmly established sense of style, and of the absolutely plastic concrete material.

So you may be able to experience in Dornach that, despite the truth of what Mr. Strakosch said about the concrete material from certain points of view, the concrete material in Dornach has been treated in such a way — even if not everything has been successful — that what is situated in any given place is sensed as necessary precisely there, and that one says to oneself out of direct perception: just as only an earlobe can be in a certain place on the head, so only a very definite form can be here. But before that, the merely symmetrical, the merely moderate-metrical must be transferred into the organic, the internally experienced moderate, the internally experienced symmetrical, as one experiences it when one passes from the merely mechanical to the organism. In order to arrive at a style again, the step had to be taken from the geometric-symmetrical, metrical style and so on to the organic style. No matter how imperfectly this may have been achieved, it is undoubtedly in this direction that we must seek what the further stylistic development of architecture must be. And I believe that we will only find the [style for a] utility building, as well as [for] a building like the Goetheanum in Dornach, if we follow such paths; otherwise we will only ever get as far as the reproductive. We will only get to the productive by following this path. Then there will be no need for pessimistic observations about the fact that architectural styles are not being invented, but then the urge for new stylization, new stylistics, will arise out of the full, artistic life.

Question: I would like to ask whether Dr. Steiner has found the relationship between today's man and the new stylistic form of the Dornach building on the path of higher knowledge, as was previously suggested for spiritual-scientific things, and if so, whether this path may be applied where intuitive and artistic

creation is involved.

Rudolf Steiner: This is a question that cannot be treated in such general terms. I have, I believe, described the process as far as it was possible in the sketchy presentation. The point is that the intuition is there, and this intuition comes with a certain inevitability. So you can't say that preparations could be made for something specific or something like that, so that these things will come. Rather, in the anthroposophical — whether one believes it today or not — there is something that, in contrast to the merely abstract, theoretical, is an element that is connected with organization, with growth and so on. It is the case that one can say: Even what I recognize as an idea, as some kind of essence in the spiritual world, is there, it is seen, but one does not now have the possibility of holding on to it in the same way as one holds on to a sensual experience that clings to the memory; one can only reconstruct the paths by which one has come to such a higher experience, that is, what lies before the experience, and then wait to see if the experience is there again. The experience is the direct perception; and just as I do not have this hall if I only have the memory of it, so I do not have the higher spiritual experience if I only have it in memory. It does not present itself at all in memory. That is the peculiar thing about higher spiritual experiences: they cannot be remembered in the usual way. I explained in my lecture that the higher spiritual experiences are due to a transformation of the power of memory, which is why they are not subject to memory, but must be experienced again and again in a new way. I have written four mystery dramas, and every single word was there, it was there. I cannot say that one can prepare oneself specifically, but through anthroposophy one enters into a living process. I could hint at what underlies it with something that might seem trivial to you. If you have learned something and have a corresponding memory, then you have it, you always have it present; but if you have eaten something, you cannot say: I do not need to eat today because I ate the day before yesterday. — What I learned yesterday is available to me today; that is an abstract process that underlies memory. What is a real process is not subject to memory, it is processed. This is how it is with the experience of what is experienced in supersensible worlds. It is a real experience. Therefore one can say: in general, the realization of what anthroposophy can give is already the path to such things, and will naturally be found in detail when the preconditions for it are there. But it is self-evident that one cannot say that one should now cultivate one thing or another through anthroposophy or that anthroposophy is the means to realize the ideal of Friedrich von Schlegel, the romantic, which consisted in nothing more than: one should resolve to become a genius. Anthroposophy is not the way to do that. But it is something living, that is what it is about. I have said that something like a new style emerges from the naive; historical considerations would be of no use in shaping a new style. It is not aimed at intellectualizing artistic production, but at what simply arises from the development of humanity, as I presented it yesterday, that the forces that used to be physically effective must now be sought spiritually. That is what matters. But I would like to warn against trying to regulate in any way the things that should actually lead to the fullest freedom, and thus also to artistic freedom, in the way indicated. I do not want to pass over these things without reminding you that artistic freedom must prevail in them, and that I very much fear that if you apply a rule to these things from the outset, even the golden section, that in the end it is not the free creation that lies there, but the feeling of being forced into those Spanish boots that a German poet once, let us say, “glorified” in a poem. The application of standards as to what may be achieved in free creation, and the judgment: “That is not beautiful” — if it does not meet a certain standard, that leads to the inartistic. And I fear that the Dornach building would become inartistic if one were to apply only the golden section [gap] —- the golden section is, of course, abstracted from what has been built so far; it is contained in countless works of art and is justified because it is contained in the human form; but if you apply it as a preconceived rule, you do not arrive at what is pleasing clothing, but at what was worn at the Spanish court and later at the Austrian court.

Question: How can it be explained that we can often solve problems in our half-asleep state that we cannot solve in broad daylight? ... [pause]

Rudolf Steiner: If we consider the current ideas of physiological science or even psychological science, which is almost the same thing nowadays, we cannot explain this fact, which is undoubtedly a fact. But if one has trained oneself without prejudice to observe human life in reality, then such facts become proof of this basic view. We must be clear about the following, and in the same way that one can be clear in a materialistic-physiological way about other things that can be achieved through such science. We must realize that man is actually only awake to a certain part of his being from waking to sleeping, namely only to his life of thinking. The life of thinking can be seen clearly when it is awake. On the other hand, there is no possibility of being in the same nuance of consciousness in the life of feeling as in the life of thinking. When analyzing the emotional life, it has the same nuance of consciousness as the dream life. Dreams are just images that string together. But the sequences of the dream life, especially in interesting dreams, do not correspond to the logic of the imagination, but actually to the logic of the emotions, the association of feelings. Feelings are basically only the waking parallel to what occurs in dreams in images, in instinctive imagination. Even when we are awake, we are completely asleep in terms of our will. No matter how we will, we only awaken in our imaginative life. How the will functions, what happens when we move just one arm, we do not have that [in consciousness]; we have the intention, we lift our arm in the imagination, but we only have the imaginative image of the act of the will. But now, for example, mathematical ideas do not come from that part of our consciousness that is exhausted in ordinary waking imagination. If we were only waking human beings, that is, only thinking beings — Dilthey describes this interestingly in a Berlin Academy treatise — we would not come to any mathematics, much less to mechanics. Mathematics and mechanics are grounded in the human being, and the human being comes to mathematics only through the movements of his own limbs. There is something similar at the basis of Greek statics, only we have it in reflection. We have mechanics, especially phoronomy, everything that we grasp with measure and number, only reflected in the imagination. Therefore, we are much closer to the mathematical, to what can be calculated, to what must be found by man. And if man would only experience it once – I have to express myself paradoxically – if he only really experienced how clever and ingenious he is in his sleep, he could become megalomaniac. It is actually very good that this fog of sleep spreads over this undeserved cleverness and that it only sometimes comes up in dreams. But it is absolutely right that when we wake up, we can just about catch what we are doing, if we are preparing some problem in our sleep. We solve many problems in our sleep. And if you want to proceed experimentally, you can do the following experiment. He should try to deal with a difficult task in the afternoon until the evening. He will see if he succeeds in formulating the question clearly towards the evening – the question is a difficult problem – and if he then has the composure to tackle it properly the next morning, he will see what he has worked on in the meantime. This can then seem like an inspiration. So you can even approach these things experimentally. Such things virtually confirm what anthroposophical spiritual science — in a methodical and thoroughly trained way, of course — wants to bring to light. I do not believe that we have yet reached the point where the “heaviness of the technician's trials” that Dr. Unger presented so brilliantly yesterday can be resolved by these means; we have not yet developed enough life pedagogy and didactics for that. But the problem can certainly be explained in the ways that I have just suggested.

Dear attendees! Anthroposophy, of which I can, of course, only sketch a meager and inadequate picture in the context of a short lecture this evening, does not want to talk about worldviews merely out of theoretical considerations or emotional impulses, but this anthroposophy wants to penetrate the most diverse branches of scientific and other life in a fruitful way. At present, anthroposophy is not only being discussed, but in Dornach, near Basel, we already have a School of Spiritual Science where a series of experts gave lectures and lecture courses on a wide range of scientific topics last fall and this spring. A therapeutic institute is being founded in Stuttgart to gradually introduce into medical practice the medical applications of anthroposophical spiritual science. And I could mention many more examples of this kind, which show that anthroposophy does not arise from some kind of sectarian sentiment or emotional impulse, but that it wants to place itself in life as a fact of life. Since it is based on such premises, it feels thoroughly permeated by the obligation to justify itself before the strictest demands that have gradually arisen in the scientific life of humanity. And it may well be said that anthroposophy seeks to take up precisely those points where the most diverse branches of science are currently showing that they demand a continuation from within their own structure. I would like to go straight to the point.

The great triumphs of modern science, which, as I have mentioned time and again, are fully recognized and appreciated by anthroposophy, these great triumphs of modern science are partly due to the fact that we have understood how to transform mere observation of the external sense world into scientific systematic experiment. And it is not only the results of the sciences of modern times that arise from experimentation, from the methodology of the experiment, from the experimental design, but at the same time, from the experimental design, from the way the experiment is conducted, arises what I would like to call the modern scientific attitude, which one must have if one wants to have any say in modern scientific life.

Anthroposophy now seeks to fully meet these requirements in a field other than that of recognized natural science.

What, then, is the actual basis of the certainty that we gain from experimentation in relation to the external world? It is based on the fact that we are able to compose the conditions of the experiment from our considerations, from our insights, in such a way that we are able to have a clear overview of what now emerges as a series of facts from these conditions that we ourselves have composed. What follows from this special characteristic of the experiment has now been worked out in the modern scientific world view, so that a knowledge of certain conditions, especially of the inorganic conditions of the external world, has indeed been achieved to a certain extent. The special esteem in which experiments were held has, however, led to what may be called scientific materialism. But this scientific materialism is justified in a certain sense. For, insofar as one aims to methodically get to know the laws of the course of material phenomena, it is really a matter of getting to know what we encounter in material existence as objectively material, as actual, and in its lawfulness. Great, tremendous progress has been made in this way.

But in more recent scientific life, we are confronted with another fact, a fact that does not stand alone, but which I would like to emphasize as a particularly symptomatic one: it was in the first half of the 19th century, in the age in which just that way of thinking emerged, of which I have just given a very brief description; it was in the age when one said goodbye to talking about a certain force that had always been assumed in the past and without which one did not think one could get along. What earlier natural philosophers or naturalists called the “life force” was abandoned. In the 19th century, this life force was already understood to be something very nebulous. The idea was that compounds of chemical elements and chemical processes in general should take place in the organism under the influence of this life force in a way that was only vaguely understood. And to the same extent that the newer experimental science emerged, to the same extent people no longer found satisfaction in speculating about such a life force. Because gradually all the talk about such a life force had become speculation. So around the middle of the nineteenth century, the scientific consideration of this talk about a special life force disappeared, and rightly so – at least if one is able to grasp things historically and scientifically.

But in more recent times, we are once again confronted with a different fact. The certainty that has been gained in experimental science, and what has been acquired there in terms of knowledge of material connections – it is gradually becoming apparent that this is not enough. The material connections, insofar as they can be traced into the organic, even into the life of the soul, these connections cannot be grasped with what can be gained from the experimental science that has been customary up to now. And there is more: one gradually gets the feeling that it is impossible to approach what is already manifested in the living organism, let alone the ensouled organism, with the concepts and ideas, with the summaries of phenomena that are gained as natural laws. And so there has emerged what is called neo-vitalism, which in turn appeals to something similar to the old life force that has been abandoned.

Anyone who looks impartially at everything that is being attempted in this field of penetration, or, as it is also called, the overcoming of the science that grew up in the second half of the 19th century, will see it as a hybrid, a half-measure, because the same kind of thinking that has been developed for external experimental science is being used to penetrate more or less hypothetically into the living organism. And by observing without prejudice everything that presents itself in this respect as a kind of hybrid, one must actually come to the conclusion that the same thinking that one has developed in the usual experimental science is really not suitable for penetrating into the laws, into the essence of what lives in the organic, in the animated, and in the spiritualized. Can we get by with a renewal of the concept of the life force when we want to grasp the organic, the ensouled and the spiritualized with the same thoughts that we are accustomed to rightly apply to the external sensual nature?

Those who have correctly grasped the anthroposophical spiritual science meant here are fundamentally convinced that we cannot get by with this. They are convinced that it is perfectly justified to assume that the phenomena of life demand, precisely when they are observed with the strictest science of the 19th and 20th centuries, a going beyond this science; but at the same time they require a transformation of knowledge itself, a transformation of the whole soul disposition, a transformation of the whole position of the human observer to that which is to be observed. Therefore, the anthroposophical spiritual science referred to here does not start from the same knowledge that must rightly be assumed in external natural science, but seeks to grasp that which obviously lies beyond this natural scientific field through other powers of knowledge. And these other powers of cognition – this is for her a thoroughly empirical, an experiential fact – these other powers of cognition are not present in ordinary life, in ordinary scientific research; they lie, so to speak, dormant in the soul, they must first be brought out of this soul. And until one recognizes that every speculative reconstruction of something like the old life force is of no use, until one recognizes that only the transition to a special kind of knowledge, the development of a special kind of knowledge that lies dormant in the soul in ordinary life and in ordinary science. Otherwise, one will not advance from the comprehension of the inorganic to the comprehension of the organic, of the ensouled, of the spiritualized.

How should one imagine the development of such powers lying dormant in the soul? What I shall now have to characterize in a few words as a matter of principle – the path to supersensible knowledge – can be found described in detail in my book How to Know Higher Worlds and in the second part of my Occult Science, as well as in other books of mine. I shall only emphasize here what is of fundamental importance in the matter.

Two things should be aimed for first. To a certain extent, human soul life must be developed systematically and consciously in two poles if such higher knowledge is to emerge in man. One side is this, which is best understood by building on the human capacity for memory. We need this memory for ordinary life, and we need it to establish a scientific life. If a person's ability to remember, if their memory, is disturbed, they lose their normal mental health. You only need to familiarize yourself with what a pathologist tells you about people whose recollection of their life events is somehow interrupted, so that they can no longer see their past life. What makes us a whole person inwardly, in our soul, is actually the ability to remember. But this ability to remember is at the same time what must now be overcome in a certain respect for higher knowledge. One must tie in with what comes to light in memory. In memory, so to speak, our ideas become something permanent. Again and again, memories can arise arbitrarily or involuntarily from the stream of our experiences, and this is precisely how our soul life is constituted. What arises there, the making permanent of the ideas, can be recreated in a certain way by means of the method that I called the meditative method of knowledge in the books mentioned. I mean this in the technical sense, not in the nebulous, mystical sense in which it is often meant today. Then, with full and free will, one must imitate what arises in the memory, namely, the fact that certain images enter into consciousness. One must present such easily comprehensible ideas to oneself, which may not be reminiscences, which may not themselves be memory images, which one can therefore either have recommended by another, or which one must put together in such a way that they are thoroughly comprehensible, so that nothing from the subconscious can arise and mix in; and these ideas must then be given duration at will. To a certain extent, one must be able to rest with the whole life of the soul on such images. It does not depend on the actual content of such images, but on this act of the soul. It depends on bringing the whole life of the soul together in looking, inwardly looking at such images. In this way, one acts on this life of the soul in a similar way to how one acts, for example, on a muscle that performs work and thereby experiences a strengthening. What matters is this intensification of the soul life. Therefore, what I have now briefly described is, in practice, a very extensive exercise, something to which one must devote oneself for a long time and in a very orderly fashion. Then forces develop that otherwise would not be drawn out of the soul life. Under the influence of the modern scientific spirit, we are actually striving more and more not to evoke these kinds of images into the field of our consciousness and to rest on them, but rather we have come to life or through observation, so that this soul power, to which I have particularly referred, and which must be strengthened, has actually been little practised in the modern scientific and life attitude. But it is this soul power that is important.

Now, I would like to add something here, so to speak in parentheses: Those who hear that such soul forces are being developed that otherwise lie dormant in the soul will be inclined, out of certain foundations of today's thinking, to say with a light heart: Well, yes, a certain pathology of the soul is being developed; hallucinations or illusions or other unjustified soul content are being created. And those people who have not seriously studied what is actually meant here have presented their misunderstandings to the world in the most inaccurate way [for example, by claiming] that, to a certain extent, such exercises provoke pathological states of consciousness. If you are a true observer of the soul and understand how auto-suggestion, illusions and hallucinations come about – I would have to give many lectures to describe it in detail – if you know these pathological phenomena – for they are all pathological – if you know these pathological phenomena of the soul life and the forces that lead to them, then you also know that what is developed in the soul life through anthroposophy, through anthroposophical methodology, points in precisely the opposite direction. Everything that leads to illusion, to suggestion, points in the direction of illness. What is cultivated in the soul through the anthroposophical method points in the opposite direction. All the powers that heal and restore health in the life of the soul and, through it, in the organic life are called forth by the exercises I am referring to here.

What I have described here leads to a certain emergence of soul forces that grow stronger. This leads to the first stage of supersensible knowledge, which I call the imaginative stage. Not because one is dealing with “imagination” in the sense in which the word is often used, but because through such exercises one gradually comes to images without being forced to do so by external sensory perceptions. These images are purely mental images that cannot be compared to hallucinations, but only to memory images. One comes to such images gradually, but in the experience of the image one knows at the same time that this image, unlike a memory, does not refer to anything we have experienced in the life between birth and death, but that these images come from the depths of the soul when one gradually appropriates these images. These pictures do not arise from morbid sources, for in that case one would be subject to an inner compulsion, but in completely free creation, but they arise in such a way that one knows: they point to a spiritual reality. That is the essential thing, that one rises to the realization: just as our memories point to ordinary experiences that we have gone through in a healthy, level-headed way, so these imaginations, these images, point to a spiritual world. A spiritual world enters our consciousness by bringing this soul power up from its depths.

Now, the important thing is not to stop at such an exercise, but to proceed to call up such images at will, in the same way as one has formed them. I would like to say: just as one develops a kind of higher, a kind of artificial memory within oneself, so one must develop in a higher way the power that would otherwise lie in forgetting. It is even more difficult to bring this power of forgetting under the control of the will, but this must be practiced. In this one has only just begun, and just as one would otherwise relate an impression to an object through an external sense organ, one now learns to relate what one experiences in the imagination to a spiritual object. Only through this does one then attain the next higher level of supersensible knowledge, even if only partially at first. One reaches the level that I — please do not take offense at this term, it is often misused, I use it only in the sense in which I have often characterized it — which I call the inspired stage; inspired for the reason that one now comes to relate that which was previously only subjectively experienced, only subjective imagination, to an objective, spiritual external world.

Now, my dear audience, something arises that is a new inner experience. It arises that a judgment, an approval or a denial of any fact that one experiences in this way in the spiritual, takes on the form of an inner fact. One now knows: One no longer lives in such an abstract inner soul life as one was accustomed to and as it must be for the outer world, which merely has to be depicted, which cannot be experienced, but one now lives in an inner world of facts, which is, however, a purely soul-spiritual world of facts. One experiences agreement with a judgment in such a way that what otherwise appears in one's soul life as what is primitively called the power of sympathy clearly emerges. One experiences rejection as antipathy; only that these experiences are not something that occurs so subjectively in relation to the objects as in ordinary life, but as something that is incorporated into that spiritual world that one is now beginning to experience.

To these exercises, which I have described, must now be added others that can be described in principle – the details can be found in the books mentioned – as belonging to human inner self-discipline. We surrender to the outer life in our ordinary existence. We surrender to our educators as children, we surrender to the living out of inherited traits, and in later life we surrender more or less to this life itself. One should only be honest with oneself and say how much inner self-discipline there actually is for a person in ordinary life. This self-discipline is what the spiritual researcher must tackle in a systematic, methodical way. I can only emphasize a few individual points here; in my books I have presented many such exercises, all of which must be applied to a greater or lesser extent if one is to arrive at a certain degree of the knowledge I am referring to here.

It is a matter of, for example, clearly and calmly investigating what is a particular idiosyncrasy of one's own self, what is a habit that has developed, and so on. Now, out of a purely inner impulse, one sets about completely mastering this habit, that is, not leaving it in such a way that it leads one, so to speak, that one is under its compulsion, but in such a way that one can say: I follow this habit or I don't follow it. There are all kinds of exercises that can be done, which in turn are entirely up to the person recovering – also because they introduce the person to a certain sphere of freedom, to a way of moving freely in life and also in relation to themselves. One can carry out such exercises in such a way that, for example, if one is a slave to one's handwriting, one can decide to change one's handwriting thoroughly. This is also a change of habit. In this way, one really takes one's inner being into one's own hands, so to speak. When such exercises are carried out systematically – but not as in the previously described exercises, where the soul life is more reshaped on the intellectual side, but now more on the will side – then it happens that it becomes much more difficult for us inwardly, let us say, to come to a decision or to let go of something than it is otherwise in life. In everyday life, the impulses of the will lie in the depths of our nature; we follow them directly; we are led by them. The spiritual researcher must, for the times when he wants to devote himself to spiritual research - naturally only for these times - be able to withdraw from the constraints of his soul life.

And if I were to describe the whole path, I would finally come to say: the spiritual researcher comes to distinguish precisely between rest and the transition from rest to activity in relation to his life of will. This is what one now comes to know: this summoning of oneself to action, this fully conscious surrender of the will, which can then no longer be guided by the instincts, which is completely distinct from the organic life, which becomes independent, such an effort of the will, as is otherwise only present in external action, where the muscles must be strained, this strengthening of the inner life of the will by raising it out of the bodily: into the soul. And when we get to know this, then the possibility arises to fully develop the inspired knowledge of which I spoke earlier, that is, to now really gain the ability to relate the imaginations to spiritual facts, to spiritual entities, just as we otherwise relate our outer sense impressions to outer physical objects or physical facts. And then we learn to recognize the nature of the spiritual; we stand face to face with it when we acquire an inner culture in this way, also on the part of the will.

I have so far described to you, my dear audience, what emerges — more on the level of the soul — in human experience as a result of doing such exercises. But one need not stop at that. And however paradoxical it may still appear to some people today, it is simply a fact of the empirically developing soul life, which can be systematically trained to become supersensible research.

What we gain by transforming the intellectual more, as I have described it, is that we not only work our way into an actual experience of the soul, but that we also arrive at the transition - and not through external observation, but through inner experience - to what we have now grasped purely in spirit. For we have gone through imagination, inspiration and intuition and have grasped the spiritual. And we are now able to follow up what we really grasp imaginatively – if we add the other types of knowledge – in relation to the physical processes that take place in the human organism through this soul-spiritual life. In short, through actual research, through observation or, if I am not misunderstood, I can also express myself by saying: through inner experiment, we are now able to see in reality what psychologists and soul scientists are striving for through speculation. The question is always: Yes, how does the external world affect the human organism? Does it work indirectly through observation, through thinking? How, on the other hand, does the human being work through the will into the activity, into the mobility of the organism, and so on? —

These things — call it interaction or parallelism or whatever all the words are called, but they remain words — these things, which one seeks in a speculative way but for which one can never arrive at a result through speculation, one simply penetrates to them through inner vision when one has attained to imagination. Then one recognizes that this imagination is nothing other than a higher stage of development of what I called in my Philosophy of Freedom, which appeared in the early 1990s, “pure thinking,” that pure thinking that I used as the basis for the concept of human freedom. This pure thinking, in which pure will also actually lives, is the thinking from which the impulse of free action must proceed. In ordinary life it often goes unnoticed when it occurs, and it occurs when there is freedom in some part of our otherwise determined action. We cannot ask whether we are free or not; we are always only free in some part, but freedom lives in our actions. Developing this thinking upwards to a real reality, which is now of a spiritual nature, results in the possibility of finding, in inner vision, the relationship of thinking not only to the soul, as I have just described it, but also to the physical organism. As I said, as paradoxical as it may seem to modern man, it is nevertheless the case that the one who experiences thinking in this way knows that there is something in the development of thinking that is in the human organism – it is quite different in animals — in a consolidation of the material, it represents a process that is essentially a nervous process and which, in its connection with thinking, can be seen right into its physical aspect. It is a process that can be compared to a consolidation of matter, to what happens when some substance that is dissolved in another settles. This material consolidation, this becoming denser of the material, this separating out of the material from a medium, that is what is now actually experienced.

The other side, the development of the will, is experienced differently when the experience is extended into the physical-organic. One experiences now: every real act of the will, everything that corresponds to the will, has an effect in the organic that can be compared to a kind of dissolution, a kind of atomization of the material. One could also say that it is something that is realized in a kind of material process that begins with warming and leads into a process that starts with warming and then gradually leads into that which, in ordinary life, our will development also more or less consciously represents. While in ordinary life, full consciousness is linked to the fact that very fine consolidations of matter take place inwardly, dissolutions of the material take place when more or less unconscious acts of will take place in ordinary life; not so in the spiritual life, where they unfold transparently.

In anthroposophically oriented spiritual science, as it is meant here, it is not about those nebulous things that are talked about in ordinary mysticism, but here it is about an equally strict development of an inner soul condition, as it occurs, for example, in the development of mathematical methodology. There it is a matter of learning to dispense with beating about the bush, with mystifying, if I may use the expression, for the purpose of supersensible research; there it is a matter of proceeding with inner systematic strictness in relation to the development of the soul, as one has become accustomed to doing out of the scientific conscience and the scientific discipline of modern times. Therefore, in spiritual science, those who have first truly acquired a scientific conscience and scientific discipline in external research will be called upon to say something above all.

Lest I be misunderstood, I must say the following: What I am describing here are the states of the soul that the spiritual researcher attains, but these are not his ordinary states. No, the spiritual researcher must be grounded in ordinary life with all composure, with all reasonableness, with all inclination to ordinary scientific thinking and research. And that which I have described to you as higher cognitive power, so to speak, only occurs at the moment when the spiritual researcher devotes himself to these higher cognitions. It is not something that captivates him or makes him a mystical enthusiast who always lives outside of life, but it is something that he can handle, that he consciously goes to, just as one goes to an external scientific experiment and then goes away again into ordinary life, in which one is a reasonable person with all the sobriety that is necessary in this life. Precisely the one who in ordinary life tends towards some pathological states of mind, who in ordinary life cannot employ his full personality like any other person, cannot be a spiritual researcher in the true sense of the word.

But now, when you consider this strict inner methodology, what do you get from it? Unfortunately, due to the limited time, I can only hint at what the further continuation of this research is.

On the one hand, you get the opportunity, I said, to see the connection between the thought, which is initially grasped as a purely spiritual one, and material existence. One comes to see how the thought unfolds in the material inner life. This is the primitive fact from which one starts, the experiential axiom, which in its further pursuit now gives that which allows one to recognize — as imaginative and inspired recognition develops more and more — what our soul life is like before birth or before conception in a spiritual-soul world. What lives in us in a spiritual-soul world, what connects with what comes to us from our ancestors through the material of heredity, we now learn to recognize in its context as a further continuation of the primitive connection between thinking and the material processes within us. In a sense, one learns to experiment inwardly. One learns to penetrate into the living experimental process, albeit in a higher, metamorphosed art of experimentation. Just as we create the conditions in the experiment under which the results develop, so we get to know their consequences in the material-inner life through arbitrary thought processes. And by learning to develop this, one recognizes how the spiritual and soul life, the supersensible life of the human being, which continues from life to life, lived in a spiritual and soul world before birth, or rather before the conception of the present life. This cannot be achieved through any kind of speculation, nor from dark mysticism, but only through a systematic inner development of initially latent soul forces, as I have described it.

And the other side: one learns how the will works, how the will, as it were, leads to the dissociation of matter, how the will initiates a warming process that then passes into something else. From this one learns to recognize how the spiritual extricates itself from the material, how the spiritual as volitional extricates itself from the material. And that, in turn, can be compared to the process that confronts us when a person dies, when the volitional spiritual breaks free from the physical body. One comes to recognize this complete process of passing through death, of the immortal part of man passing over into a spiritual world.

They see that the point is to pursue a spiritual science in such a way that one does not want to go into the abstract, into the nebulous spiritual, and only talk about it, but that one follows the living activity and creation of this spiritual, the transition of the spiritual into the material life, the wresting of the spiritual from the material. Thus presents itself a spiritual science that does not prattle and ramble on about some abstract spiritual, but which seizes the living spirit, which finds its transition to material activity. That is why true spiritual science is not at all an enemy of materialism, because it recognizes matter as that which fits into the general spirituality. It allows materialism to remain in its own field, as I said before, and it learns to recognize its justification. This will also give you the opportunity to see, if I can only briefly hint at it, how the fact that one learns to see the soul-spiritual functions in their expression in the details of the whole human organism provides an opportunity to follow the effect of the material itself in this human organism. I would like to say: He who knows how thought and will work in the human organism also learns to recognize how a substance or remedy works in the whole human being, which consists of body, soul and spirit. One learns to see through, to see through the human organism inwardly. This, however, is the entrance to an anthroposophically oriented therapy, to a truly rational therapy, which starts from a knowledge of the human being that has been acquired by seeing through the whole human being.

In the same way, it could be shown for the other sciences, as it has indeed been indicated, at least, to those who have taken part in this course, by various experts from our circle for the individual sciences.

This, then, is what I want to give at least a hint about, albeit a meagre and insufficient hint: how anthroposophy can have a fertilizing effect on the individual specialized sciences. But notice what actually arises in the cognition that is formed in such a way. I will present only one property of this cognition.

First of all, when we have struggled up to imagination and see through something imaginatively, when we see through a realm of facts, a realm of entities in the spiritual world, as one sees through a genus, a species of plants, or animals or crystals, then we are confronted with a real perception of external spiritual reality, with which the human being is connected; when we understand something in the external sense world, we also know how the human being as a whole is integrated into this external world. But by living in this external spiritual reality, we come to see through the world's interconnections as such. And here I would just like to hint at something. It should only be highlighted as an example.

The science that I characterized at the beginning leads us to the so-called heat death, into which the events of the earth will one day end. Yes, my dear audience, we can certainly grant a certain justification to everything that external science can tell us about this heat death. But this external science lacks that which man himself introduces into the events that external science describes to us. And by learning to recognize how human will works within the warmth being — I have described how it intervenes in a warming process — we can sense, and this suspicion becomes a certainty through spiritual science, that in this process towards entropy can mix in that which emanates from human morality, from human ideality, from human volitional impulses; we can surmise that this then plays an essential role when considered in connection with its effect on the outer physical nature. And then one comes to say to oneself: Just as the individual human being rises as a soul out of his physical body and enters into a spiritual world, so the totality of human souls and human spirits will live beyond the heat death, indeed beyond the end of the earth, into other cosmic conditions; they will experience what is no longer earthly, but what belongs to a metamorphosis of the earth's development itself. All these things result in a certain change, a metamorphosis of our cognition itself. And there it is a striking fact that I must now touch upon.

When one has already come to see something in the external spiritual world, then one notices what it actually means: one has metamorphosed one's own ability to remember, one has transformed it into something else. For the peculiar thing is that At first, spiritual observations do not enter into the ordinary realm of memory. If one wants to recognize what one has once seen in the spiritual world, one cannot remember it in the ordinary sense. This shows precisely that it is an observation, not an ordinary concept or a fantasy. If one wants to go again to that which one has observed and of which one has only an image, one must also here again take the same spiritual path. One can only remember the way in which one brought about this spiritual observation, but it does not pass over into the immediate spiritual observation. That is surprising for beginners who devote themselves to spiritual science, who come to see and then forget what they have seen because it is an observation and not a mere concept. One must remember all the details through which one has brought about the vision, then, if one has the necessary strength and if the meditative exercise was sufficient, one can bring it about again. Thus, however, the spiritual researcher is obliged to make the ascent into the spiritual world again and again and again. What we see in the spiritual world does not become a memory; if I may express it this way, it can only be the cause to bring about the same processes again and again, through which one has risen to spiritual vision. I would also like to mention: One can even — and that is not the worst thing about this spiritual science, because it protects against illusions —, one can, when one has already achieved a great deal for oneself in this respect, come to skepticism and can be repeatedly compelled to overcome this skepticism. One must always work inwardly, in inner activity. And this inner activity also flows from what is communicated, what is written down by the spiritual researcher, and what the other person can accept based on his common sense. For spiritual science can be received by every layperson with common sense, without needing to be a spiritual researcher, just as astronomical truths can be received by the layperson who can see through them, even without being an astronomer. But through what is developed in spiritual science as a concept, as an idea, as a mental picture, an inner activity is transferred to the human being, which is transferred to the whole person. In other words, what is transferred to the human being is what could be called a spirit-filled contemplation of the world. This presence of mind, this apprehension of the concrete, this leaving behind of the merely abstract, is what one particularly cultivates in spiritual science. But through this one is prepared for life in a living realization.

It must be said again and again: in modern times it is difficult for people to come out of their inner individuality to a social life such as I have described in my Philosophy of Freedom, which I have already mentioned, because this beginning must be made by looking at spirituality, even if it is in a primitive way, but still by looking at spirituality itself. But when one finds one's way into it by studying spiritual science, by living into spiritual science, then one is led to the concrete. But this concrete must be grasped if one wants to understand this life, which we can call social life in the sense of modern times. We need only look back a few centuries to recognize the transformation that has taken place in the social life of human culture. In earlier times, social associations and social ties emerged from certain instinctive foundations that lived in human beings. And from these social ties, one might say, from what one human being experienced in another, , that particular degree of love also emerged, which is no longer appropriate in today's world, of course, but which in earlier centuries, even in those that we do not want to conjure up, did live from person to person. This degree of love must be understood from the instinctive relationships from person to person.

The more recent period, with its advances in natural science, with the justified applications of natural science in the field of technology, with what in turn technology has demanded in terms of world trade and world economy, in everything we can call the modern technology of life, and in everything that man sees himself in this modern life, - all this has emerged, at the same time as man has found himself in the modern spirit of science. But this modern scientific spirit tends first towards theory. Spiritual science, as it can appear today in anthroposophical orientation, moves away from theory, it moves towards observation, towards the concrete, towards the grasping of the momentarily given. But through this, this spiritual science will not only be able to serve the sciences, of which I was able to give a rough outline, but it will also be able to provide essential services to modern life. This modern life has indeed taken on forms that clearly show how forces of decline and destruction have entered the modern world. One need only study their destructive frenzy in the East. Far too little study is being done in the Center and West regarding the destructive forces that have entered humanity. How did these forces enter humanity? We shall see how not science itself – which has its full justification – but how what has asserted itself as a scientific way of thinking wanted to extend itself to thinking about social life. You see how people like the leaders of the radical socialist parties, the Leninists, the Trotskyists, say that what they now want to develop in social life, they have appropriated from the scientific spirit. — Theories applied to social life — that is what we see approaching today as something much more destructive than what has already been in effect: this will to apply theories to life, to want to theorize about life, to want to spin all kinds of utopias in life. But what is given to us in social human life is everywhere the living human beings. And it is only an illusion, a sociological illusion, not to see how today, out of a certain inclination towards the theoretical, man also tends towards the theoretical shaping of reality. Even if he wants to be a practical man, he shapes according to theoretical prejudices. Today, the worst practitioners do this, that is, those who consider themselves to be practitioners; their practice becomes routine. One can see how humanity is in danger of growing into a social machine, a mechanism. What is well suited to the external art of experimentation cannot be transferred to the way people live together. By asserting himself today, the human being wants to be an individual. This is what causes the bitter struggles of the present, which one only has to understand. One can understand them as a rebellion of the human being against what wants to envelop humanity like something objectively external, like a social madhouse. That is where the human being rebels. It is the human being that matters. But the human being that matters is the human being who acts through his or her impulses of will and who can only be understood if one starts from a love and a feeling that are inspired by spiritual knowledge. For it is the spirit that works through people in social life. What is at work in social life cannot be grasped by anthropology, but only by anthroposophy, because anthropology starts from the general, while anthroposophy starts from in his individual freedom; because anthroposophy knows how to look everywhere, right down to the individual human being, and see how this human being is the one who places himself in social life. In this sense, anthroposophical spiritual science also wants to serve the most practical aspects of life. This tendency has given rise to what was first attempted in my 'Philosophy of Freedom', for example, as a foundation of the subjective in man for a contemporary social life adapted to the present historical period of humanity , which was then in turn presented in my “Key Points of the Social Question” not as utopia but as the fullest expression of life, from empirical observation of life, but one that is borne by the spirit.

What flows into life that fully takes into account the human being, that has understanding for the individual, that shows how the individual human being cannot be pressed into the general human mold, how national stocks are just national stocks, how other small associations are small associations with their peculiarities — all this flows from the spirit. And only an education that springs from the ideas and concepts of true anthroposophy can look into social human life in such a way that a living, vital, enduring, and inwardly fruitful sociology can arise, which can then also shape social associations. In my “Key Points”, I have attempted to develop such a sociology by eliminating all utopia.

And on such foundations, this anthroposophical spiritual science may believe that it can work in the direction indicated in today's lecture; in the direction that it can be fruitful — not by talking about world view out of theoretical or sentimental considerations —, but that it can have a fertilizing effect on the one hand, for science, which after all underlies our life more and more, and that it has a fertilizing effect on the other hand, for life itself, in its social shaping in particular; that anthroposophical spiritual science can not only create knowledge, but an actual spiritual-soul reality that is fruitful for science and for life.

Dear attendees, dear fellow students! We have come to the end of this event, and I too would like to express a wish that has already been expressed by the honored organizers: that some satisfying things may have sunk into the souls of our very welcome audience during these days, and that some satisfying things may also remain in their after-feelings. It is natural that in the course of such a short event one can only give a few samples of what anthroposophical spiritual science wants to be and what it wants to be in our time of science and life.

The fact that a number of personalities, especially from scientific circles, have come together to pursue anthroposophy out of youthful enthusiasm is one of the most satisfying things for someone who would like to devote his life to everything that lies within this anthroposophical spiritual science. Therefore, you will believe me when I express it from the bottom of my heart when I express my sincere thanks to the esteemed fellow students who have devoted their strength and effort and their good will to this event.

I am convinced that all those who have been involved here and who are active in one place or another in our anthroposophical movement also thank the organizers of these college courses most warmly and in the same spirit. These thanks are directed primarily to the working groups of the Federation for Anthroposophical School of Spiritual Science Work in Darmstadt, Frankfurt, Gießen, Marburg, Heidelberg and Würzburg, who have put so much effort into making this event a worthy one. But these thanks are also directed to all participants in this anthroposophical experiment.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, dear fellow students, if you would like me to say a few closing words, please do not ask me to say what I have to say, what I would like to say to you now at the end , but let me say a few things that seem necessary to me in part and that are very close to my heart in part, precisely in view of what I have been privileged to experience here among you during these days.

The fact that the School of Spiritual Science in Dornach, where it had to be shown during the war how German spiritual life can be presented to the world, has been called the Goetheanum, has been strongly contested from many quarters. I myself have often used the name, but the will to call this educational institution the Goetheanum came from others. But perhaps it may be said that there is something in this name that is connected with my own growth into the Anthroposophical Movement in this life. And so I may begin by clothing what I want to say to you in the images of some reminiscences of my life.

When I myself came to the university in Vienna, it was still in those days when what has now gained such immense world significance was only just being established at technical universities: electrical engineering. In Waltenhofen, the Viennese “Technik” had the first representative of electrical engineering, but he had grown out of general physics. And since then, one has been able to follow everything that has come from this particular direction and which, as we have seen, has become so effective that the treatment of light and many other natural phenomena has now led to a world view of a scientific nature, one might say that it is based entirely on the observation of electrical phenomena. The mere elastic atoms, with which we still had to deal with our complicated differential equations, have been replaced by the present-day picture of electrons. And in these decades, something significant in the development of modern humanity has been included. But it also includes what I tried to hint at in yesterday's public lecture: the striving to move beyond the increasingly pervasive materialistic view of the world, which actually celebrates its triumphs in the electron theory, and to return to a spiritual understanding of the world. Within what we can gain from the electron theory, we simply do not find the human being. But we must find the human being again. And perhaps it has become clear to you from the aspirations that underlie our lectures that, first and foremost, we are striving for knowledge of the human being, but such knowledge of the human being that is connected with all other scientific knowledge and with all striving for the world, down to the individual social level, is what is to be brought to life in anthroposophy.

For me personally, when I was still allowed to feel as many of you feel today, something came to me in the midst of what surrounded me in my youth from a scientific and technical way of thinking, soon after I entered the Technical University of Vienna. In addition to the other subjects I devoted myself to, I also became a student of my old teacher and friend, the late Karl Julius Schröer. And it is one of the most profound experiences that I felt at the time when Karl Julius Schröer, in the first lecture on German literature, spoke a word that so clearly showed how the renewal of the spiritual life of modern humanity can be born out of German, Germanic being. Perhaps this word no longer seems as significant to you today as it sounded to me at the time. Karl Julius Schröer wanted to characterize how Goethe, Schiller, Herder, Lessing, the German Romantics, the German philosophers, placed themselves in the context of the entire spiritual life of humanity. To this end, he wanted to show that art, that aesthetic experience, had become a sacred matter for humanity in that time for the German, not just a luxurious addition to life. Something that is fundamentally human should flow into art. And that is what Karl Julius Schröer expressed in his own way in the sentence he uttered in the first hour of his lecture: “The German has an aesthetic conscience”. This was also the basis for his treatment of Goethe's Faust, where he tried to present Faust as the hero of invincible idealism, which at that time had to emerge from the depths of German intellectual life into the development of the world and humanity.

Then I took part in what Karl Julius Schröer called “Deutsche Gesellschaft” (German Society), by recreating something that Uhland and Grimm had developed in their teaching. Young people gave lectures; they could express themselves as they wished. The first lecture I had to give within this German Society was concerned with rejecting Kant and Kantianism, in my then awkward, youthfully immature way, that barrier that had been erected against the essence of the world by the special interpretation that phenomena have found in modern science.

And then I had the good fortune to speak about Johann Gottlieb Fichte to a circle of Viennese students at the University of Vienna's “Deutsche Lesehalle”. I tried to include in what I wanted to say about Fichte everything that seemed to me, in an immature way at the time, to be necessary for a fertilization of intellectual life from a very particular angle.

And one of the essays I wrote when I was briefly editing the “Deutsche Wochenschrift” in Vienna had the same title as the second lecture I gave here, albeit in a different form: “The Spiritual Signature of the Present”. But this essay endeavored to point to the true sources of German intellectual life that could lead to a spiritualization of modern culture.

I am not saying this to boast in any way, but I would like to present such images so that perhaps one or the other may get a truer picture of what I personally have contributed to the spiritual-scientific-anthroposophical movement than the image that is now being widely spread by untruthful sides.

Now, my dear attendees, dear fellow students, I had plenty of opportunities to get to know the forces of decline in modern scientific life at the time. And so it was a great satisfaction for me that during my time in Weimar working at the Goethe-Schiller Archive, I was able to devote myself to Goetheanism, if I may say so, for years through my study of Goethe. One felt very much at the center of German intellectual life. Weimar in the 1980s was still very different from what it is today. There was still a breath over the whole of Weimar that is no longer there today, and from this breath one sensed precisely what is specifically Goethean. At that time I tried to point the way to what was to come by giving a lecture in Weimar on “The Imagination as a Cultural Creator”.

What I attempted to give from a scientific-philosophical basis shows you, even in its very first attempts, that it is a matter of drawing the spiritual current from that which was the basis of Goethe's thinking and feeling in all areas of knowledge and life. I certainly did not start from Haeckel; anyone who follows the chapter I wrote in the first introduction to Goethe's natural science writings at the beginning of the 1880s can see that. But anyone who wants to be part of spiritual scientific life must take everything seriously, and actually carry out what they advocate in their ideas. Therefore, those currents of contemporary spiritual life that have entered this life with all their might and strength must also be lovingly experienced; and this immersion in Nietzscheanism and Haeckelism has been perceived as a following [on my part]. But if one wanted to, one could find the sources of anthroposophical spiritual science in my writings that preceded these discussions with Haeckel or Nietzsche. In my Philosophy of Freedom, I first tried to indicate in a practical way how spiritual elements must flow into moral and social action.

And when it is emphasized today that my work has been incorporated into that of the Theosophical Society, then, my dear audience, I must always emphasize again that I have never, anywhere, advocated anything other than what I have gained from my own inner path of research. That I was wanted to be heard within the circle of this or that society, that I was invited to work within that society in order to be heard, is something that I consider to be quite possible, indeed necessary. And I will never allow it to be taken from me in the future, to speak wherever I am wanted.

Therefore, I must emphasize that I did not seek out the Theosophical Society, but that it came to me. And I must always emphasize that when I had written my first book, “Mysticism in the Dawn of Modern Spiritual Life and its Relation to the Modern World Picture”, which was more derived from the natural sciences, I was told within the theosophical circles, to which I did not belong at the time, that this book contained everything that was actually sought in these theosophical circles. But this did not come from these circles; it was found by the path of research that I found compelled to take from the foundations of natural science up into the spiritual, to anthroposophy.

And so the transformation of the “Theosophical Society” into an “Anthroposophical Society” was also given by the facts. But what flowed through the work of these Societies was never different from what flows today. However, it is self-evident that this anthroposophical spiritual science, because it has been cultivated for decades in the most diverse fields, has slowly and gradually developed, and that what had to be said in a more abstract form at the beginning could be formulated in ever more concrete and specific terms. Therefore, when we speak today, we can draw much more from spiritual reality than we could in earlier decades. But spiritual science in the anthroposophical sense would not be alive if it were not so. And those who do not hold with the dead spiritual, but with the living spiritual, will understand this living development. They will understand that just as a mature person can no more be a child than can an anthroposophical spiritual science that has grown old speak in the same way as it spoke when it was still a child. Anyone who wants to look at these things properly will see that it must be exactly as it is, because the matter wants to be thoroughly alive.

Even the artistic and medical aspects, which were taken up relatively late, have been organically integrated because the need for them has basically come from the outer world of pure anthroposophy. I would say that we have given in to what had emerged from the necessities of the time, from the signs of the times, more in keeping with destiny. But understanding the signs of the times is what it is all about.

My esteemed audience, dear fellow students, I could use many other images to show how what has been incorporated into anthroposophy can be found in the original source of German intellectual life. I will not do so today for the sake of brevity. I have only given the individual examples for the reason that recently the fight against anthroposophical spiritual science has also been waged under the flag of hostility towards all things German. And in the face of what comes out of the most unobjective of motives and out of scientific inability, as for example with the Göttingen Professor Fuchs, and what is combined with all kinds of attacks by various other personalities who have never even sensed a whiff of what anthroposophical spiritual science and anthroposophical spiritual striving really are, and which are directed precisely at the German essence of anthroposophy, in the face of this it must be said: Whatever anyone wants to think or feel about Anthroposophy, we respect; Anthroposophy will face up to anyone who is an honest opponent. I have never opposed the harshest criticism when it has taken the form of judgment. But I will always oppose something else. The criticism of many circles that today approach anthroposophy with hostility is not based on judgment, for easily understandable reasons: because these circles lack this judgment, because they do not want to develop the diligence to really find their way into the anthroposophical and into the way in which this anthroposophical wants to flow into the outer social life; their criticism is based on something else. In the broadest circles today, the numerous attacks, which you have probably also heard about, are based on lies. The lies go as far as the forged letters. The lies go so far that at my April lecture, which was held in Stuttgart in self-defense, one of these attacks was made against me from the audience: it was claimed that I had said this or that in Cologne in the last few months. I had to reply that I had not been to Cologne for years. The person in question referred to a letter that had been written to him from Cologne, and he had the audacity to show me this letter. I had to reply: No matter what it says, it is a forgery, because it is a lie that I have been to Cologne in recent years. — This is typical of the attacks that come from certain quarters. They do not base their arguments on judgment and opinion, it is all a lie. Everyone is entitled to their own judgment and opinion according to their abilities and what they are capable of; I will only oppose these within the limits that they themselves have set. Because an honest opponent strives to get to the bottom of the matter; it would be a sin not to deal with these opponents in complete agreement. But anyone who resorts to dishonesty and even forges letters cannot be argued with in any other way than by calling attention to the fact that he is lying.

That is what I would like to express here with these few words, for the reason that I am speaking to dedicated younger people who, out of the depths of their enthusiasm, have made it possible for this lecture course and this lecture event to take place despite the fact that anthroposophy is presented to the world in such a distorted form today.

Now, my dear fellow students, those who have already shown how they can find their way into this anthroposophy despite the difficulties that the anthroposophical path presents, how they make sacrifices for it, wherever untruthfulness arises without a judgment about the true form of anthroposophical striving, they may perhaps be expected to unmask the untruthfulness with full force. After all, dishonesty plays a widespread role in the present world in other ways as well, and a good part of how we move forward from forces of decline to forces of ascent will be in developing enthusiasm for truthfulness. Truthfulness is the highest, never the individual party line. The whole system of anthroposophy must be built on truthfulness. For how can anyone who does not understand how to stand up for truthfulness in the outer life penetrate to those regions where one must be guided by truthfulness only through the inner direction, because one cannot always be corrected for being untrue, as one can in the outer life? What could be presented to the world from the regions of supersensible worlds if enthusiasm for truthfulness were not the basis? This enthusiasm for truthfulness – we see it particularly in the discussions about the war guilt – this enthusiasm for truthfulness is also missing today in so many cases, even in those who call themselves the bearers of civilization. This enthusiasm for truthfulness is something we need, and anyone who is as closely connected with Germanness as I am — I mention this in all modesty — will, will be convinced, must be convinced that Germanness will suffer in no way at all if truthfulness is insisted upon, even in the most difficult of matters. All attacks on anthroposophy that come from this quarter bear the stamp of a lack of truthfulness of mind. Therefore, my dear fellow students, do understand how much it must fill me with the deepest satisfaction that you have undertaken this event here despite all that is being directed against anthroposophy in a well-organized manner today. And those of you here today who already feel how sincere these thanks are, will also feel that in the ways that are unfortunately only partially open to us, attempts will be made to work together in the fullest harmony in the further pursuit of the anthroposophical path. I have often had to take refuge in Goetheanism, because of the urge for renewal in modern scientific and technical life. Today some of you, my dear fellow students, are seeking this path through anthroposophy, no doubt from the bottom of your hearts. And it may be said, from an unprejudiced observation of the development of the times: you are seeking this path from the true signs of the times. May we therefore succeed, through our collaboration with those who are already working in one place or another in the anthroposophical movement, in particularly in the most fruitful way developing the work of youthful minds. Then youthful minds will have no reason to turn to Spengler's pessimism. Spengler has, however, recently denied that what he strives for is pessimism. But in any case, anyone who is fully imbued with an inner content of the rising forces of our age in the anthroposophical sense has no reason to turn to Spenglerism. On the other hand, what has made a great impression on all young people, insofar as they have turned to science, if they have ever studied it, can be revived in a new, more spiritualized form: what Fichte once said in his 'Discourses on the Essence and Destiny of the Scholar' at the end of the 18th century. These thoughts can be expressed again, albeit in a transformed form, precisely in order to make fruitful the rising forces in the first third of the twentieth century. In particular, however, one may recall the words that Fichte spoke at the very beginning of his speeches, addressing all those who wanted nothing to do with scooping out of spirituality for real, practical life. To them he said: if they believed that all reality was exhausted in the world of sense, that ideals represented only utopias, then they should be convinced that he who speaks as he does, Fichte, also knows quite clearly, perhaps better than they, that ideals cannot be realized in real life as directly as that to which they always point. But Fichte also added that perhaps such minds cannot be convinced, and that therefore, because the governance of the world did not actually count on them, God may give them food, sun and rain at the right time, and, if it can be, also some good thoughts.

Thus spoke Fichte, the idealist, at the end of the 18th century, and thus may we speak again today, from the innermost impulse of anthroposophical spiritual science. I hope that you feel something of this attitude as we part, and that it was this attitude that led you to organize these lectures, this entire event.

I speak to you out of the gratitude that arises from all the attention and commitment you have shown to what we have been able to offer you. I speak to you in such a way that I truly believe that it will be of particularly essential importance for the emergence of a new spiritual movement when youthful humanity, touched in its inmost heart, turns to this movement. It will be up to you, dear fellow students, how conditions develop in the coming decades. It will be up to you whether the languishing German nation will be able to rise again. To do this, humanity needs strength, not just words – strength! But strength can only come to present-day humanity from the spirit. In many respects, the young generation has made a start by forming these student groups. They have continued by leading the honored student groups from Darmstadt, Frankfurt, Gießen, Marburg, Heidelberg and Würzburg to this event. May this event be the starting point for fruitful further work, work that will lead to a true dawning of humanity in the coming generations, and in particular in Central Europe. For basically everything that has been achieved here during these days was directed towards this goal, towards this ideal. So, my dear fellow students, let us work together in the spirit of true anthroposophy, so that what humanity needs may flow into it: above all, the strength of youth, the enthusiasm of youth – and that it may also be imbued with the seriousness that young people experience through their engagement with science. We want to stand firmly on the ground of strict scientific observation. But we want to get out of the abstract, out of the merely theoretical, out of the dead webs of concepts. We want to move on to the living grasp of the full reality, which lives itself out not only in the outer world of the senses, but also in the soul and spiritual world.

And if I am speaking here in particular to those who, as prospective technicians, are involved in this movement, I may say that this involvement in technical activity seems to me to be particularly significant for a spiritual movement. In the world, things develop in polar fashion. The technician experiences the highest level of scientific thinking in construction, in building, and in the laboratory. By pouring the laws of nature into the outer world, by developing technology, we bring our soul above all to what initially does not contain the spirit, but the human heart approaches everything. The human soul and the human spirit enter into this sphere. It is precisely through our feeling for technology that we must direct our feeling, our thought, to the other pole, to that which, as spirituality, permeates and interweaves the world. Technology is particularly suited to pointing to the other side, to the side of spirituality, because it most deeply intervenes in the outer world of the senses. I therefore believe that especially the prospective engineer can be a source of strength that can contribute the most to the development of humanity by bringing a spiritual attitude, a spiritual worldview.

It is in this spirit that I wanted to address these final words of the present event to you all. May they once again end in heartfelt thanks to all those who have contributed to this event, in heartfelt thanks to all those who have turned their attention to this event.

Question: The principle of direct observation in teaching has been rediscovered in recent times. Now it turns out that when children leave school, they are helpless in the face of life when they are supposed to think. They have become stuck on the image as a result of direct observation.

Rudolf Steiner: This is an extraordinarily important pedagogical question of the present day, the question of the concreteness or the exclusive concreteness of teaching. Now this question is perhaps not so specialized, but can only be treated exhaustively by looking at the whole of pedagogical thinking. I would like to mention first of all that teaching in the Waldorf school is based on our knowledge of human development. The Waldorf school is certainly not a school of world view, but all the educational skill, all the educational methodology, all the educational handling of things that can be achieved from an anthroposophical state of mind should be put into practice to benefit the Waldorf school. In this practical respect, the insight that children up to about the age of six or seven imitate everything plays a major role. Children continue to imitate up to this age. This means that at this age, at kindergarten age, one should not actually teach in the usual sense, but should rely on the child's ability to imitate. You see, when you have been dealing with such things for decades, as I had to, you gain all kinds of experience. People come to you and ask about all sorts of things. Once a father came to me, very unhappy, and said: What should we do, our boy, who has always been a good boy, has stolen. - I asked the father: How old is the boy? - Four to five years. - Then, I said, we must first examine whether he really stole. - The examination showed that he had not stolen at all, the little boy, even though he had taken money from a drawer. He had only seen every day that his mother gave money to the delivery people from her drawer. He thought: if that's how mom does it, then it's okay - and he just took money from the drawer too. He bought sweets, but did not eat them himself, but gave them away. The child was simply an imitator, according to his age. What he did was simply an act of imitation. The point is that you don't actually lead children of this age to do anything that they are not allowed to imitate. Then begins the age of life that starts with the change of teeth and ends with sexual maturity, which is the actual elementary school age. This elementary school age simply demands – what is demanded today from some party lines must be set aside, the factual must be brought to the fore – this age demands that the child learn to understand and act on the basis of authority. It is of very special significance for the whole of later life, especially for the education during the early years for later difficult times and for everything that can happen in life, that the child during this phase of life, from about seven to fourteen years of age, accepts something in terms of authority. This relationship of a self-evident authority of the teacher and educator to the child is something that cannot be replaced by anything else for the human being in his whole later life. It would be easy to find proof of something that cannot be acquired later in life if one has not had the good fortune to have a natural authority in one's life.

And so it is at this age that the question of object lessons arises. The extreme form of this teaching method, as it is practised today, has grown out of materialism. They want to put everything right in front of the eye. They believe in nothing but what is before the eye; so everything should be put before the child. But not only the difficulties you have emphasized arise, but also others that arise on the part of the teachers. Take the auxiliary books written for teachers, in which instructions are given for visual instruction. The banalities and trivialities that are dished up there are nothing short of outrageous. The instinctive tendency is always to push everything to the lowest possible level. This is the kind of object lesson in which the child is taught nothing more than what he already knows. This is the worst kind of teaching imaginable, which provides insight in this way. The best teaching is that which not only caters for childhood but for the whole of human life. If life is not such that one still has something to gain from one's school days in one's forties or fifties, then the teaching was bad. One must be able to look back on one's school days in such a way that there are living forces in this reminiscence. We also grow as our limbs grow and many other things within us are transformed; everything about us grows. When we teach children concepts, ideas and views that do not grow, that remain, and on which we place great emphasis, then we sin against the principle of growth. We must present things to the child in such a way that they are placed in the context of living growth. Again, we cannot do this with flat, banal object lessons, but rather when we as educators face the child, imponderables then come into play.

I often use an example like this: let us assume we want to teach a child a concept – one that can be derived purely from an understanding of child psychology at a certain age – the concept of immortality. One can make this concrete in natural processes, for example, in the butterfly in the chrysalis. One can say: the immortal soul in man is contained in it, like the butterfly in the chrysalis, only that it develops in a spiritual world, just as the butterfly develops out of the chrysalis. That is an image. One can teach this image to the child in two different ways. The first is this: one thinks, “I am the teacher, I am tremendously clever; the child is young and terribly stupid.” So I will set up this symbol for the child to represent this concept. I am, of course, long since beyond it, but in this way the child is to grasp the immortality of the soul. Now I am explaining this in an intellectualistic way. This is not the way to teach a child; not because what has been said is wrong, but because one is not attuned to the child in the right way. When I immerse myself in anthroposophical spiritual science, it is not an image that makes me feel smarter than the child, but a truth. Nature itself has created the butterfly emerging from the chrysalis at a lower level, and the process of passing through the gate of death at a higher level. If I bring what lives so vividly in me to the child, then the child benefits.

You can't just say that you should do it this way or that, but rather it depends on imponderables, on a certain state of mind that you yourself have as a teacher - that is the important thing. Difficulties arise when one stops at the flat illustrative teaching, which is becoming more and more impersonal; at the age when the teacher should play the important role as a self-evident authority, he withdraws. There are, for example, certain things that should simply be handed down to the child on the authority of an adult. You cannot teach everything to the child on the basis of direct instruction. Moral concepts, for example, cannot be based on direct instruction; nor on mere commandments. They can only be conveyed to the child through unquestioning authority. And it is one of the most significant experiences that one can have in later life, when one has absorbed something in the eighth, ninth, twelfth year, because a revered personality regards it as correct – this relationship to the revered personality belongs to the imponderables of . You reach the age of thirty, and with a certain experience it comes up from the depths of human consciousness; now you understand something that you actually took in twenty or thirty years ago, at that time on authority. This means something tremendous in life. This is in fact a living growth of what one has taken in during childhood. Therefore, all this discussion about more or less intuition is not so important. These things must arise out of the object itself. Also, the discussion about more or less thinking and so on, is not very important. The important thing is that teachers are placed in their proper place, that the human element is brought together in the right way in a school organization. That is the main goal. In real life – and the life of teaching and education is a real life – you can't do anything with curricula or anything that can be formulated in paragraphs. Because if three or six or twelve people sit down together, no matter what their antecedents are, what circle they come from, what education they have, they will be able to work out an ideally beautiful curriculum. If you somehow put something together in paragraphs from your own reflections, it can become ideally beautiful, the most wonderful things can be included. I am not mocking; it does not have to be bad, it can be extraordinarily beautiful and magnificent, but that is not the point. What matters is that in the school, which has a number of teachers, real life takes place; each of these teachers has his or her special abilities, and that is the real thing that has to be worked with. What use is it if the teacher can point out: this and this is the teaching goal? That is only an abstraction. What he can be for the children as a personality, in that he stands in the world in a certain way, that is what matters. The school question in our time is essentially a teacher question, and from this point of view all the more detailed questions, such as the question of teaching by demonstration and the like, should be treated. So can you, for example, teach children in an extremely effective way through teaching by demonstration? I must say that I feel a slight horror when I see these tortures with the calculating machines in a class, where they even want to transform things that should be cultivated in a completely different way into visual instruction. If you just want to go further with pure visual instruction, you will end up with clumsy children. This has nothing to do with phenomenology or phenomenalism: to develop proper phenomenalism, one must first be able to think properly. In school, we are dealing with pedagogical methodology, not scientific methodology. But we must know how closely proper thinking is connected not only with the brain and the head of the person, but with the whole person. It depends on the way in which someone has learned to think, on the skill in his fingers. For in reality, man thinks with his whole body. It is only believed today that he thinks with his nervous system, when in reality he thinks with his whole organism. And the reverse is also true: if one can teach a child quick thinking in the right way, and even presence of mind to a certain extent in a natural way, one is working for physical dexterity; and if one carries this quickness of thinking to the point of physicality, then the children's dexterity also comes to one's aid. What we have now established in the Waldorf school is much more important: instead of the usual visual instruction in manual skills, the children move on to self-forming, through which they get a sense of the artistic design of the surface. This then leads in turn to the mathematical conception of the surface in later years. This living into the subject matter, not through mere visual instruction for the senses, but through a living together with the whole environment, which is achieved for the whole person, is what we must work towards.

I just wanted to point out that such questions should be placed in the context of pedagogical thinking as a whole and that today we spend far too much time discussing the specifics.

Rudolf Steiner in response to other questions: What has been said and often emphasized before must be firmly held: the Waldorf School does not want to be a school of world view as such. The fact that it is based on anthroposophical soul-condition is only the case insofar as it is implemented in educational practice. Thus, what is at issue in the Waldorf School is the development of what can be achieved by purely pedagogical means from the anthroposophical movement. The Waldorf School does not want to be, and cannot be, a school of any kind that teaches a particular worldview. That is why the Waldorf School has never claimed – until now – to take responsibility for the religious education of the children in its care. What the one or other anthroposophist may think about questions of world view is not important. The point is that anthroposophy in the school and all that goes with it is intended to have an effect only in pedagogical practice. For this reason, the religious education of the Catholic children was handed over to the Catholic priest and that of the Protestant children to the Protestant pastor. Now it happened – this simply arose from the contemporary circumstances – that there were quite a number of dissident children who would actually have grown up without religion. For these children, religious education is now provided, but it is not considered part of the school, but rather it presents itself as free religious education alongside Protestant and Catholic religious education. We have at least had the success that children who would otherwise not have been admitted to any religious education at all now grow up with a religious life as a result. This is a free religious education that is taught by someone who understands it and is called to do so, like the others who teach Catholic and Protestant religion. However, it must be strictly maintained that the intentions of the Waldorf School are not to promote any particular world view. The aim is not to indoctrinate children with anthroposophy but to apply anthroposophy in practice. So questions on this topic are irrelevant. At the beginning we had to find an appropriate approach to what follows from practice. We have our views about how a seven-, eight- or nine-year-old child should be taught, and these are appropriate. We believed that we had to decide these things on the basis of purely objective principles. Now, of course, the Waldorf school is not an institution for hermits or sects, but an institution that wants to fully engage with life, that wants to make capable people out of children for the sake of contemporary, very practical life. Therefore, it is important to organize the lessons in such a way that, on the one hand, the strict pedagogical requirements are met, and on the other hand, it is important that the Waldorf school is not just any institution for eccentrics. I then worked out the matter in such a way that from the time of entering school until the completion of the third class, you have an absolutely free hand in the individual years, but by the time they have completed the third class, the children are ready to transfer to any school. From the ninth to the twelfth year, you again have a free hand, and then the child must be ready to transfer to any other school, and the same applies when they have completed primary school. We are currently setting up one class each year; what happens next remains to be seen.

As you can see, it is not a matter of working from party-political or ideological considerations, or anything like that, but purely of putting Anthroposophy into educational practice. The ideal would be that the children initially – because anthroposophy is only developed for adults, we have no children's teaching, and have not yet been in a position to want to have one – would not know that there is an anthroposophy, but that they would be kept objective and thus placed in life. These things cannot be achieved in the ideal; no matter how hard the teacher tries to remain objective, one child will live in a circle of parents and the other in a circle of parents; there are also anthroposophical fanatics, and their children bring anthroposophical mischief into the school, as well as all kinds of other things. It must be made absolutely clear that it can never be a question of the Waldorf School in any way being a school of world view or anything of the sort. It is not that at all, but it wants to make children into capable people in the immediate present, that is, in the life in which we are placed within the state and everything else, so that they are capable within it. It is self-evident that the Waldorf school does not bring the ideas of threefolding into the school. This cannot happen through the efforts of Waldorf education. No party politics are brought into the Waldorf school from the anthroposophical side.

Question: Isn't the methodology that the pastor uses somewhat opposed to the rest of the teaching? Isn't there a conflict here?

Rudolf Steiner: You can't achieve anything completely in life. It would be very nice if we could find not only a Protestant pastor but also a Catholic one who would teach according to our methodology. As I said, our school only wants to put pedagogical practice into practice, not a worldview. The other can go hand in hand with this. Now it is self-evident that in free religious education – because the question was asked about such education to be taught only by anthroposophists – our methodology is also used. We would very much like the Protestant and Catholic education to be taught in the same way, but we have not yet achieved that.

Question: What is the content of the material taught to anthroposophical children?

Rudolf Steiner: The material is determined in such a way that an attempt is made to take the child's age into account. This is what is always at the psychological basis. That is why it is important in all things that they are most effectively brought to the child when they are introduced at the exact age at which the child's inner being resonates most strongly with them. It is a fact that in the seventh or eighth year of life, little is achieved with objective gospel or Bible knowledge, and nothing at all with catechism knowledge. It is not absorbed by the child. This is an anthropological law. On the other hand, everything religious that can be directly formed from a certain shaping of natural processes is very well absorbed by the child at this age, all ethical and genuinely religious concepts that can be formed from natural processes. Above all, one can lead the child to religious feeling indirectly through images of nature.

It is only from the age of eight, or even closer to nine, that one can lead the child to the actual Christian feeling. Only then does he begin to grasp, for example, what lies behind the figure of Christ Jesus. The concepts that the child must be taught if it is to grasp the content of the Gospels are only really assimilated by the child in the course of time. It is good if it has a foundation and is only properly introduced to the content of the Gospels around the age of nine, and then gradually led up to the deeper mysteries of Christianity. It must be emphasized that this free religious education is, in the most eminent sense, a thoroughly Christian one, that is, the various denominations that take part in it are introduced to true Christianity. It is the case that if you are a teacher at the Waldorf School, you have come to this [Christian] conviction yourself, precisely from the anthroposophical point of view. You have come to Christianity from this side. You may put it differently, but children are introduced to real Christianity. Just as we leave Protestant and Catholic religious education to themselves, we also leave religious education from an anthroposophical perspective to them entirely. It has never been my aim to ensure that children attend these free religious education classes. They came in large numbers, but it is really not the aim to damage the external reputation of the school by making it happen in such a way that it could be said to be a school of world view. One does not want to be that at first. That is why we are careful about free religious education and only give it because it is requested.

Today, seeing that from a living grasp of the anthroposophical world-conception there results something for the whole human being, for man in his totality, we would like to put forward something taken from the art of recitation. As I have mentioned already, there is a certain fear in artistic circles, especially among poets, reciters and so on, that everything approaching the conceptual, everything which takes a “scientific” form, is really foreign to art – and actually inimical to the original and vital in it, choking instinctive and intuitive art. And as regards that intellectuality which has arisen in the course of recent centuries of human development this is absolutely the case. Yet this very intellectuality is also connected with an inclination toward what is present in external, physical reality: our very languages have gradually adopted a certain form – what might be called a tendency towards materialism. In our words and their meaning lies something which points directly to the external sense-world. Hence this intellectuality, which possesses only picture-being and is all the more authentic the less it contains of life and reality from man’s inner nature – this intellectuality will indeed have little in common with the primordial vitality that must lie at the root of all art. But the reinvigoration of spiritual life to which Anthroposophy aspires means precisely the reimmersing of intellect in the primordial forces of man’s soul life. The artistic will not then appear in the so-much-dreaded gloom of intellectual pallor; imagination will not be drawn down through Anthroposophy into logic and materialism, but will on the contrary be made to bear fruit. From living together with the spiritual it will be nourished and bear fruit. An enhancement of art is to be hoped for just through its being pervaded by Anthroposophy and the anthroposophical way of thinking – the whole bearing and demeanour of Anthroposophy.

What applies to the arts as a whole we will show today with reference to recitation and declamation. Over the last decades recitation and declamation have been steered more and more into a predilection for endowing with form the meaning-content of the words. A stress on the word-for-word content has become increasingly conspicuous. Our times have little understanding for such a treatment of the spoken word as was characteristic of Goethe, who used to rehearse the actors in his plays with special regard for the formation of speech, standing in front of them like a musical conductor with his baton. The speech-formation, the element of form that underlies the word-for-word content – it is really this which inspires the true poet as an artist. The point must be emphasized: Schiller, when he felt drawn by inner necessity to compose a poem, to begin with had something in the way of an indeterminate melody, something of a melodic nature as the content of his soul; something musical floated through his soul and only afterwards came the word-for-word content, which had really only to receive what was for the poet, as an artist, the essential thing – the musical element of his soul. So we have on the one hand something musical, which as such would remain pure music; and on the other, the pictorial, painterly element to which in declamatory-recitative art we must return. To say something merely as an expression of the prose-content – it is not for this that true poetry exists. But to mould the prose-content, to re-cast it into measure and rhythm into unfolding melody – into what really lies behind the prose-content – for all this the art of poetry exists. We would surely not be favoured with such a mixed bag of poetry if we did not live in unartistic times when in neither painting nor sculpture, nor poetry nor its recitative-declamatory rendering, is true artistry to be found.

If we look at the means by which poetry is brought to expression, which in our case is recitation and declamation, then we must naturally refer to speech. Now speech bears within it a thought- and a will-element. The thought tends toward the prosaic. It comes to express a conviction; it comes to express what is demanded within the framework of conventions of a social community. And with the progress of civilization language comes to be permeated more and more with expressions of conviction, with conventional social expression and to that extent becomes less and less poetic and artistic. The poet will therefore first have to struggle with the language to give it an artistic form, to make it into sornething which is really speech-formation.

In my anthroposophical writings I have drawn attention to the character of the vowels in language. This character man experiences in the main through his inner being: what we live through inwardly from our experience in the outer world finds expression in the vowel-sounds. Occurrences that we portray objectively, the essential forms of the external world, come to expression in the consonants of a language. Naturally, the vocalic and consonantal nature of language varies from language to language. Indeed from the way in which a language deploys its consonants and vowels can be seen the extent to which it has developed into a more or less artistic language. Some modern languages, in the course of their development, have gradually acquired an inartistic character and are falling into decadence. When a poet sets out to give form to such a language, he is called upon to repeat at a higher level the original speech-creative process. [Note 17] In the construction his verses, in the treatment of rhyme and alliteration (we shall hear and discuss examples of these later) he touches upon something related to the speech-creative process. Where it is a matter of bringing inner being to expression, the poet will be drawn, by virtue of his intuitive and instinctive ability, to the vowels. The result will be an accumulation of vowels. And when the poet needs to give form to outward things or events, he will be drawn to the consonants. One or the other will be accumulated, depending an whether something inward or something external is being expressed. The reciter or declaimer must take this up, for he will then be able to re-establish the rhythm between inner being and the outer world. On this kind of speech-formation, on the bringing out of what lies within the artistic handling of speech, the formation of a new recitative and declamatory art-form will largely depend.

We will now introduce a few shorter poems to show how recitation and declamation must be guided by speech-formation.

MÄCHTIGES ÜBERRASCHEN

Ein Strom entrauscht umwölktem Felsensaale,
Dem Ozean sich eilig zu verbinden:
Was auch sich spiegeln mag von Grund zu Gründen,
Er wandelt unaufhaltsam fort zu Tale.

Dämonisch aber stürzt mit einem Male –
Ihr folgten Berg und Wald in Wirbelwinden –
Sich Oreas, Behagen dort zu finden,
Und hemmt den Lauf, begrenzt die weite Schale.

Die Welle sprüht und staunt zurück und weichet
Und schwillt bergan, sich immer selbst zu trinken:
Gehemmt ist nun zum Vater hin das Streben.

Sie schwankt und ruht, zum See zurückgedeichet;
Gestirne, spiegelnd sich, beschaun das Blinken
Des Wellenschlags am Fels, ein neues Leben.

—A Sonnet by Goethe.

[We encounter a similar movement and transition in style in the course of this English sonnet:

Devouring time blunt thou the Lyons pawes,
And make the earth devoure her owne sweet brood,
Plucke the keeneteeth from the fierce Tygers jawes,
And burne the long liv’d Phoenix in her blood,
Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleet’st,
And do what ere thou wilt swift-footed time
To the wide world and all her fading sweets:
But I forbid thee one most hainous crime,
O carve not with thy howers my loves faire brow,
Nor draw noe lines there with thine antique pen,
Him in thy course untainted doe allow,
For beauties patterne to succeding men.
Yet doe thy worst ould Time dispight thy wrong,
My love shall in my verse ever live young.

—William Shakespeare (1564-1616).]

Das Tier, die Pflanze, diese Wesen hatten
noch die un-menschliche Geduld der Erde;
da war ein Jahr, was heut nur noch Sekunde.

Jetzt geht ihr nichts mehr rasch genug von statten.
Der Mensch begann sein ungeduldig Werde.
Sie spürt: ‘Jetzt endlich kam die grosse Stunde:

auf die ich mich gezüchtet Jahrmillionen!
Jetzt brauch ich meinen Leib nicht mehr zu schonen,
jetzt häng ich bald als Geist an Gottes Munde.’

—A Ritornello by Christian Morgenstern.

[A series of three-line stanzas with recurring rhymes is a comparatively simple representative of a poetic form that is capable of being extended almost indefinitely. Our first poem is a relatively uncomplicated example; a second shows something of what can be achieved by a poet working within very strict limitations.

THE COVENANT

The covenant of god and animal,
The frieze of fabulous creatures winged and crowned,
And in the midst the woman and the man –

Lost long ago in fields beyond the Fall –
Keep faith in sleep-walled night and there are found
On our long journey back where we began.

Then the heraldic crest or nature lost
Shines out again until the weariless wave
Roofs with its sliding horror all that realm.

What jealousy, what rage could overwhelm
The golden lion and lamb and vault a grave
For innocence, innocence past defence or cost?

—Edwin Muir (1887-1959).

The highly-developed, courtly poetry of the late Middle Ages provides many examples of this type of elaborate and difficult structure. This Balade is a moderately ambitious and very beautiful instance:

TO ROSEMOUNDE

Madame, ye ben of al beaute shryne
As fer as bercled is the mappemounde;
For as the cristal glorious ye shyne,
And lyke ruby ben your chekes rounde.
Therwith ye ben so mery and so jocounde,
That at a revel whan that I see you daunce,
It is an oynement unto my wounde,
Thogh ye to me ne do no daliaunce.

For thogh I wepe of teres ful a tyne,
Yet may that wo myn herte nat confounde;
Your seemly voys that ye so smal outtwyne
Maketh my thoght in joye and blis habounde.
So curteisly I go, with love bounde,
That to my-self I sey, in my penaunce,
Suffyseth me to love you, Rosemounde,
Thogh ye to me ne do no daliaunce.

Nas never pyk walwed in galauntyne
As I in love am walwed and y-wounde;
For which ful ofte I of my-self divyne
That I am trewe Tristam the secounde.
My love may not refreyd be nor afounde;
I brenne ay in an amorous plesaunce.
Do what you list, I wil your thral be founde,
Thogh ye to me ne do no daliaunce.

—Geoffrey Chaucer (c. 1340–1400).]

WELTENSEELENGEISTER

Im Lichte wir schalten,
Im Schauen wir walten,
Im Sinnen wir weben.

Aus Herzen wir heben
Das Geistesringen
Durch Seelenschwingen.

Dem Menschen wir singen
Das Göttererleben
Im Weltengestalten.

—Poem in form of a Rondeau by Rudolf Steiner.

A scene will next be presented from my first Mystery Play, The Portal of Initiation. What we have here is a representation of experiences connected with the spiritual world. One might be tempted to look upon something like this as contrived by the intellect, as though we were going after some sort of “symbolic” art – but that would not really be art at all. What will be spoken here, despite the psychic-spiritual nature of the events, was actually seen, in concrete form. Everything was there, down to the very sound of the words. Nothing had to be manufactured, or put together, or elaborated allegorically: it was simply there. We have attempted to give form to man’s manifold experiences in relation to the spiritual worlds; we have tried simply to give form to soul-forces, to what man can experience inwardly as differentiated soul-forces. Something results from this quite spontaneously, that is not shaped by any intellectual activity. As it is here a matter of purely spiritual contents, it is especially important to realize that it is not a matter of giving information or the prosaic word-for-word content, but of giving form to the actual spiritual contents. On the one hand a musical element will be perceptible – at the very point where one might suspect an intellectualising tendency – and on the other we will have a pictorial element, which must be particularly brought out whenever we are giving form to some kind of event. [Note 18]

From The Portal of Initiation, Scene 7.

MARIA: You, my sisters, at this hour
be once again my helpers,
as you have often been before, –
that I may make world-ether
resound within itself.
It shall ring out in harmony
and, ringing, permeate
a soul with knowledge.
I can behold the signs
that lead us to our task.
So shall your work
unite itself with mine.
Johannes, in his striving,
shall through creative deeds of ours
be raised to true existence.
The brothers in the temple
held council
how they could lead him
out of the depths to light-filled heights.
And they expect of us
that we arouse within his soul
the strength for soaring flight.
And so, my Philia, breathe in
clean essence of the light
from wide-flung spaces;
be filled with tones, enticing,
from souls’ creative power,
that you can hand to me
the gifts you gather
from spirit grounds.
Then I can weave them
into the stirring dances of the spheres.
And you, too, Astrid,
beloved mirror-image of my spirit,
create the power of darkness
in streaming light,
that colours may shine forth.
Bring harmony to tonal being
so that world-substance, weaving,
can live and sound.
I can entrust then spirit feeling
to seeking human senses.
And you, O sturdy Luna,
you are as firm within
as is the living heart
that grows within the tree;
join with your sisters’ gifts
the image of your own uniqueness,
that certainty of knowledge
be granted to the seeker.

PHILIA: I will imbue myself
with clearest essence of the light
from worldwide spaces.
I will breathe in sound-substance,
life-bestowing,
from far ethereal regions,
that you, beloved sister, with your work
may reach your goal.

ASTRID: And I will weave
into the radiant light
the clouding darkness.
I will condense
the life of sound,
that glistening it may ring
and ringing it may glisten,
that you, beloved sister,
may guide the rays of soul.

LUNA: I will enwarm soul-substance
and will make firm life-ether.
They shall condense themselves,
they shall perceive themselves,
and in themselves residing
guard their creative forces,
that you, beloved sister,
within the seeking soul
may quicken certainty of knowledge.

MARIA: From Philia’s horizons
shall stream forth joyfulness.
The undines’ power
of ever-changefulness shall rouse
a sensitivity of soul,
that the awakened one
can then experience
the world’s delight,
the world’s despair.
From Astrid’s weaving
shall spring forth love’s desire.
The airy life of sylphs
shall stir up in the soul
the urge for sacrifice,
that he, the consecrated one,
revive and quicken
those who are sorrow-laden,
those who are joy-entreating.
From Luna’s strength
shall stream forth firmness;
the power of fire-beings
can actively create
soul-certainty,
so that the knowing one
can find himself
in soul-life-weaving,
in world-life-breathing.

PHILIA: I will entreat the spirits of the worlds
that they, with light of being,
enchant soul feeling,
that they, with tone of words,
charm spirit hearing,
that he whom we must waken
may rise
upon soul paths
to heavenly heights.

ASTRID: I will guide streams of love,
that fill the world with warmth,
into the heart
of him, the consecrated one,
that he can bring
the grace of heaven
to earthly work
and mood of consecration
to sons of men.

LUNA: I will from primal powers
beseech both strength and courage,
and will imbed them deep
within the seeker’s heart,
that confidence
in his own self
may be with him
throughout his life.
He shall then feel himself
secure within himself.
And he shall pluck
each moment’s ripened fruit,
to draw from them their seeds
for all eternity.

MARIA: With you, my sisters,
united for this earnest work,
I shall succeed
in what I long to do.
There penetrates the cry
of him, who’s been so sorely tested,
into our world of light.
Trans. Ruth and Hans Pusch.

When we come to the sonnet it is, of course, to be taken for granted that a sonnet does not arise from the intention to compose a sonnet, but by necessity from the working out of inner experiences. It is evident that the sonnet tends toward something visual or pictorial that lives in the language – we have an experience which is in some way twofold. Such an experience presents itself, and we wish to give it a form, such as appears in the first two strophes. But we are then thrown into a contradiction of inner experience. The second strophe confronts the first wave, so to speak, like a counter-wave. And in the last two strophes we feel the contradictions that govern the universe. The human heart and the human mind strive for a unison, a harmonious association, so that they may resolve in harmony what found expression in discord and overcome the material dissonance through the spirituality of harmony. This is manifested even in the rhyme-scheme of the first two strophes and in the linked rhymes of the concluding strophes. In as far as there is not such a necessity of inner experience, a sonnet cannot arise; for it must manifest itself even down to the rhyme-scheme as a picture-form. And now, the musical element infiltrates this pictorial form: a musicality that depends principally on vowel sounds, and on what enters the vowel from the consonant – for every consonant has its vowel-element. This gives what one might call musical substance to the primarily pictorial form taken by the sonnet. What is present within the sonnet, shaping it, is metrical and, in the art of speaking, metre is brought to expression specifically through recitation: something the Greeks managed to bring to a certain eminence. The Greeks lived in the metre; that is to say, in the plastic element of the language. If, on the other hand, we look at what comes to us from the Nordic or Central European, Germanic tradition, we see how into the plasticity of speech there enters something musical from within. Here we have something which streams out more from the will, more from the personality whereas with the Greeks everything flows from metrical clarity of vision. With the Greeks it was primarily the art of recitation that attained a certain peak, whereas among the Germanic peoples it was declamatory art, drawing on the musical principle and flowing into themes and rhythms and cadences, which stirred into activity. And whereas in recitation we have to do with something in speech that in one sound broadens, in another makes ‘pointed’, forming it pictorially – in musicality we have what endows language with a melodic quality. It is in fact something like this that we can see in the sonnet and its treatment in the several regions of Europe. We can see how the declamatory united with the recitative, how the Germanic later united with the Greek feeling for measure. [Note 19] It is of some importance for us to realise the musical as well as the plastic quality inherent in speech-formation, for us to learn to introduce into declamation and recitation something which essentially leads us from what has significance for the senses to what is moved by the spirit. For this, it is once again necessary to have a feeling for poetic form as such – the form of a ritornello or a rondeau, for instance. This does not in truth make for a poetry wanting in thought; it simply expresses thought, not through abstractions, but through its productive creativity. If it is to adapt itself to forms created in this way, the art of speaking must be restored to a life in the actual waves of speech – the recitative with its pure formation; and the high or low intonations, the melodic forms of declamation. And if a dramatic touch has to be added, as in the scene you have just heard, which dealt with purely spiritual experiences, the intellectual significance or literal meaning must be completely overcome, completely transformed from a literal communication of prose fact into actual speech-formation. We thus have in immediate presentation the same experience as when in a prose piece we pass from prosaic understanding to a vision of what is represented in the prosaic. The pleasure of the prosaic is indirect: we must first understand, and through understanding we are then led to visualisation. This entails from the first something inartistic, for the aesthetic quality lies in immediacy. The art of speech-formation must have direct expression. What is actually presented (and not an intellectual imitation of it) must show itself and be given form. In our times we often see so-called poets working up intellectual imitations, rather than those immediate responses which make themselvesfelt in speech-formation. Goethe, who expresses so beautifully a living apprehension of tranquillity – a tranquillity preceding that of sleep – gives it utterance in these lines:

Über allen Gipfeln
Ist Ruh;
In allen Wipfeln
Spürest du
Kaum einen Hauch;
Die Vögelein schweigen im Walde.
Warte nur, balde
Ruhest du auch.

Compare Shelley, “Evening. Ponte a Mare, Pisa.”

The sun is set; the swallows are asleep;
The bats are flitting fast in the grey air;
The slow soft toads out of damp corners creep,
And evening’s breath, wandering here and there
Over the quivering surface of the stream,
Wakes not one ripple from its summer dream.

There is complete accord between the feeling for the summits and the tree-tops and what goes on in our own heart. A harmony lies in the sounds, in the very word-formation, so that what is mediated to us through the outer world sounds again – especially if we really listen to the poem – in the word- and speech-formation. All our experience of the outer world has passed over into the speech-formation itself. That would be the ideal of true poetry: to be able to present an experience received from outside in the very treatment of the language. The mere repetition of external experience, simply trying to express external experience in words – this is not poetry. The art of poetry only arises when something experienced in the outer world is reconstituted out of the life of the human soul in terms of pure speech-formation. [Note 20]

We can observe this in a truly artistic poet like Goethe, when he feels the need to recreate an identical prose-content out of a different mood and feeling. From living with the Gothic and the mood it transmitted to him, from the feeling let us say for the pointed arches striving upwards, which he felt most deeply in his appreciation of Strasbourg Cathedral, Goethe had gained at the beginning of his time in Weimar a sensibility which, when given poetic form, became something like inner declamation. Thought and feeling took such a form in him that we can experience directly in speech-formation something also to be found in contemplating a Gothic cathedral. We can see something striving upwards, something unfinished, in a Gothic cathedral; and this was Goethe’s mood in Weimar when he conceived his Iphigeneia. Driven by a deep longing for the fulfilment of his poetic disposition, Goethe set out, but in the course of his journey south he was gradually overcome by another mood – by a longing for measure. Faced with the Italian art that confronted him there, he felt a kind of echo of Greek art. He writes to his Weimar friends: “I suspect that the Greeks created their works of art in accordance with the very laws by which nature proceeds.” Looking at the Saint Cecilia, at Raphael’s works, the essence of metre became clear to him; and this became an inner recitation. He no longer felt the form of his first Iphigeneia to be a personal truth: he forged his play anew, so that we now have a Nordic and a southern Iphigeneia. Any consideration of the Nordic Iphigeneia must treat of it in terms of declamatory art, where it is preeminently the vowels that hold sway and that give form in the sounding of speech. In the Roman Iphigeneia recitation must predominate: what is relevant here is the plastically formed presentation of experience in a speech-formation comparable to the presentation in Raphael’s work. In two short passages we shall now compare the two versions of Iphigeneia and have before us what goes on in a poet when he really lives in aesthetic form and has to recreate his artistic forms out of inner necessity. Recitation and declamation must strive to follow poetry such as this.

In the first instance, therefore, we will present the Gothic-German Iphigeneia as Goethe originally conceived it – the Weimar Iphigeneia. [Note 21]

[Blake’s earlier poetry was strongly influenced by Romantic interest in northern “Bardic” verse, and something of its powerful declamatory nature can still be felt in this “Introduction” to Songs of Experience:

Hear the voice of the Bard!
Who Present, Past, & Future, sees;
Whose ears have heard
The Holy Word
That walk’d among the ancient trees,

Calling the lapsed Soul,
And weeping in the evening dew;
That might controll
The starry pole,
And fallen, fallen light renew!

‘O Earth, O Earth, return!
Arise from out the dewy grass;
Night is worn,
And the morn
Rises from the slumberous mass.

Turn away no more;
Why wilt thou turn away?
The starry floor,
The wat’ry shore,
Is giv’n thee till the break of day.’

—William Blake (1757-1827.]

And now Goethe wished to introduce into these verses something fundamentally alien to the north. These verses express what I have just claimed as emerging straight from the whole mood living in Goethe. It can be said, of course, that anyone who does not enter into the genuinely aesthetic will lack the deep sense of necessity that Goethe felt in Italyof forging his favourite subject, Iphigeneia, anew. Not only was he subject in Italyto impressions of what he regarded as Greek art, but the sun there has a different effect. A differently coloured heaven arches over us, and the plants struggle up from the earth in a different way. All this made its mark on Goethe, and we can trace how in every line he is again compelled to rewrite and adapt the substance of his Iphigeneia to a quite different mood. It was Hermann Grimm who first showed a really sensitive understanding for these matters. In his lectures on Goethe he stressed the radical difference between the German and the Roman Iphigeneia, demonstrating how Goethe transformed what at first lived in the dimension of depth, so to speak – where there is a tendency to make the tone too full, too bright, or too dull, in order to achieve a spiritual expression of the literal prose content; he showed how Goethe transformed this into something that lives in the plane of speech, as it were, in the metre, and how he tried to introduce into his Iphigeneia the symmetry he believed himself to have found in Greek art.

In order to characterise what Goethe experienced in artistic speech, therefore, it becomes necessary to work from the declamatory into the recitative when producing his Roman Iphigeneia – the recitative which, as we have said, the Greeks brought to perfection. [Note 22]

[To a much greater extent than Goethe, Blake consistently reworked his poetry into ever different forms as he matured and changed as a poet. By the time he came to write “Night the Ninth” of The Four Zoas he had extended his range to include a classically derived pastoral verse with a much more recitative quality. The visionary scene from the earlier “Introduction” appears again there – though after a more thorough metamorphosis than was the case with Goethe’s play. This is The Four Zoas ix, 386-409:

And thus their ancient golden age renew’d; for Luvah spoke
With voice mild from his golden Cloud upon the breath of morning:

‘Come forth, O Vala, from the grass & from the silent dew,
Rise from the dews of death, for the Eternal Man is Risen.’

She rises among flowers & looks toward the Eastern clearness,
She walks yea runs, her feet are wing’d, on the tops of the bending grass,
Her garments rejoice in the vocal wind & her hair glistens with dew.

She answer’d thus: ‘Whose voice is this, in the voice of the nourishing air,
In the spirit of the morning, awaking the Soul from its grassy bed?
Where dost thou dwell? for it is thee I seek, & but for thee
I must have slept Eternally, nor have felt the dew of thy morning.
Look how the opening dawn advances with vocal harmony!
Look how the beams foreshew the rising of some glorious power!

The sun is thine, he goeth forth in his majestic brightness.
O thou creating voice that callest! & who shall answer thee?’

‘Where dost thou flee, O fair one? where doth thou seek thy happy place?’

‘To yonder brightness, there I haste, for sure I came from thence
Or I must have slept eternally, nor have felt the dew of morning.’

‘Eternally thou must have slept, not have felt the morning dew,
But for yon nourishing sun; ’tis that by which thou art arisen.
The birds adore the sun: the beasts rise up & play in his beams
And every flower & every leaf rejoices in his light.
Then, O thou fair one, sit thee down, for thou art as the grass,
Thou risest in the dew of morning & at night art folded up.’

—William Blake.

It may be that in the case of an artist like Goethe, we shall find what it is that flows over into form only if we can understand with full intensity how, when he himself spoke his Iphigeneia, tears would roll down his cheeks. Goethe found his way from the Dionysian – to use the Nietzschean expression – into the Apollonian, into metrical form. Because the Greeks in their soul-life stirred the will to this metrical formation, they achieved something in this Apollonian realm, and of this Nietzsche felt that here art is exalted above outer sense-reality. He felt that art could elevate us above the pessimism of a humanity confronting the tragic in the immediate reality of physical perception. What holds sway here as the inner, the essentially human – though conforming to measure and the Apollonian principle – this was what particularly attracted Goethe once he had entered this element, and induced him to attempt the creation of something in Greek metre, in an inwardly recitative-declamatory style rather than his former purely declamatory one.

We will now give an example, from Goethe’s “Achilleis”, of the aesthetic form that Goethe conceived after he had sunk himself in the metrical, inwardly recitative style of the Greeks. [Note 23]

[In their attempts to recapture the feeling of the original Greek some translators have been driven to adopt a hexameter verse, as in this rendering of Odyssey VI, 85ff:

Now when at last they arrived at the beautiful stream of the river,
Here the perennial basins they found where waters abundant
Welled up brightly enough for the cleansing of dirtiest raiment.
So their mules they unloosened from under the yoke of the waggon,
Letting them wander at will on the bank of the eddying river,
Browsing on clover as sweet as the honey, and then from the carriage
Bearing within their arms to the deep dark water the garments
Cast them in trenches and trod them in rivalry one with another.
So, when the raiment was washed and was thoroughly cleansed of the dirt-stains,
All on the shore of the ocean in order they spread on the shingle
Where it is washed by the tides of the sea as they sweep to the dry land.
There did they bathe and anointing themselves with the oil of the olive
Set them adown to the midday meal on the bank of the river,
Leaving the garments to dry on the beach in the glare of the sunlight,
Now when in food they had fully delighted, both she and her maidensj
Casting aside their scarfs with a ball they betook them to playing,
White-armed Nausicaa with the choral melody leading.
E’en as descending a height moves Artemis, darter of arrows,
Either on Taygetus long-ridged or on huge Erymanthus,
Taking delight in the chase of the boar and of timorous roe-deer,
Whilst all around her the daughters of Zeus, who beareth the aegis,
Nymphs of the woodland, play – and Leto sees it rejoicing;
Even as over the rest uplifting her brows and her forehead
Easily known in her beauty she stands, though fair be the others,
Thus shone forth in her beauty the maiden amidst her attendants.
Now when at last it was come to the moment of homeward returning,
After the mules were yoked and folded the beautiful garments,
Other was then the device of the grey-eyed goddess Athene,
E’en that Odysseus awaking and seeing the fair-faced maiden
Her might follow as guide and reach Phaeacia’s city.
Seizing the Ball, at the maiden among her attendants the princess
Flung it, but missing the maiden it fell in a bottomless eddy.
Piercingly all of them shrieked; and godlike Odysseus, awakened,
Sat straight up and pondered thereon in his heart and his spirit:
‘Ah me! what is the folk whose country I now am arrived at?
Dwell here savages wanton and wild, despisers of justice?
Have they a love for the stranger and hearts that revere the immortals?
Lo, how piercing a cry as of maidens ringeth around me,
Nymphs peradventure that dwell on precipitous summits of mountains,
Or by the fountain springs of the rivers and leas of the lowlands;
Else, maybe, I am near to a folk of articulate language.
Nay, go to, I will test for myself this matter and view it.’

Trans. H.B. Cotterill.

With such poetry Goethe tried to find his way back to Hellenism. He believed himself, as he felt at a certain period of his life, nearer to the original source of poetry than he could ever have been had he not gone back to the Greeks. We have to look at Goethe’s instinctive artistic life, when he sought Greek metre and what the Greeks had formed plastically in inner recitation. As with the other art-forms, true poetry was to be sought where the fountain-head of art sprang more abundantly – in primitive humanity, in unaccommodated man and his inner experience, not yet shrouded by the thick veil of materialistic civilisation. In Greek, we can observe the measured flow of the hexameter; we observe how the dactyls are formed. What do we really have in this verse-measure? Now we must remember, speaking more theoretically, how something lives in man which strives inwardly toward a certain rhythm or harmony of rhythms.

Let us take, on the one hand, the breathing-rhythm: in a normal person of average age, about 18 breaths per minute; while in the same space of time we have 72 pulse-beats, four beats coinciding with each breath. This is an inner harmonising of rhythms in human nature. Let us picture the four pulse-beats taking place in each breath and consider their ratio, their harmony with the breath. Let us bring the first two pulse-beats together into one long syllable, and the remaining two pulsebeats into two short syllables. We then have the verse-measure underlying the hexameter. We can also produce the hexameter for ourselves by examining the harmony of the four and the one: the first three feet and, as the fourth, the caesura – all being related to the one breath. What is formed in this way we derive from man’s own being: we create out of man’s being, embodying in speech an expression of human rhythms. Now the fourfold rhythm of the blood can, of course, struggle with the unitary breathing-rhythm, separating and reuniting as they strive toward harmony. They separate in this or that direction, and then flow together again. In this way are revealed the several forms of verse and prosody. But each time it is an overflowing of what lives in man himself into speech. In the formation of Greek metres man unfolds his own being; something of man’s most intimate morphology comes to his lips and forms itself into speech. Here then lies the mystery: the Greeks strove for vocal expression of the most intimate, even organic life of man’s rhythmic system.

Goethe felt this. The Greeks by their very nature (and let us not misunderstand this) were striving after thought. Not for mere abstract thought, but something that led them away, through thought, into concrete speech-formation – the pictorial that is active in man. For what occurs in man through the confluence of the blood- and breathing-rhythms is transmitted to the brain and transformed into thought-content. The process is even vaguely recognisable in prose. This is really thought that has been stripped of everything that lay hidden in Greek recitative metre. The Greeks spoke of the music of Apollo’s lyre, meaning man himself as a work of art: a rhythmic being in the harmony of his breathing- and blood-rhythms. Here are uttered unfathomable cosmic mysteries which tell us more than any prose language can.

Into all this sounds the will. As we turn to the north we meet once more with the declamatory. The general inclination of Nordic language, Nordic speech-formation, is to make the will predominant. It is mainly breathing which lives in Greek rhythm (being closer to thought than the blood-circulation), but the experience of blood-circulation was rightly regarded by ancient spiritual researchers as the immediate expression of human personality, the human ego. And this is what lives in the Nordic treatment of speech. Here we see how the blood-rhythm strikes in and the breathing rhythm recedes. We see in addition how the blood-rhythm is connected with the mobility of the entire man. Looking back, we see how in the Nibelungenlied Nordic man could sense the wave-beat of his blood, instigated by a will-impulse and then subsiding into thought: in this way alliteration comes into being. We begin with a will-impulse, which then strikes up against the form, like a wave building up and then subsiding again into the repose of rhythm. This was felt as something constituting the whole man. Whereas the Greeks wanted to penetrate inwards into the breathing-system, Nordic man was inclined towards depth of personality and the life of the blood-rhythm. Nordic-Germanic poetry is spiritualised human blood. Here the will lives and gives itself form. We must imagine the will-working of Wotan, moving on waves of air or welling up in man as blood and forming the human personality. [Note 24]

The primal element of will, the human being as a whole, finds expression in Nordic-Germanic poetry. We can see this welling-up and surging in the epic Nibelungenlied. And even in more recent times, Wilhelm Jordan has tried to imitate the alliterative style, such as lived in Nordic declamation, and has tried in the speech-formation of his own epic to restore to life the things I have described. What lives in Jordan’s Nibelunge, therefore, we must not simply declaim by extracting and stressing the prose content. Rather, there must sound forth that wave-motion drawn from the inner nature of man. In Wilhelm Jordan’s alliteration, these Wotan-waves must sound forth as they did when he himself recited them. This he actually did; those who were still able to hear him will know how he tried, through a declamatory verse-technique, to draw out what is latent in alliteration.

We shall conclude by giving an example from the beginning of the Nibelungenlied, where the Nordic element (as opposed to Greek metre) is in evidence. This will strike a contrast to what Goethe, particularly in his later years, received from Greek culture. From there he derived the finest quality that lived in him, while yet wishing to unite it, together with the Nordic, into a single whole.

And finally, a short passage of alliterative verse from Wilhelm Jordan’s Nibelunge – his attempt at a re-creation of ancient German poetry.

From The Nibelungenlied.

I. Äventiurde

Uns ist in alten maeren wunders vil geseit
von heleden lobebaeren, von grôzer arebeit;
von freude und hôchgezîten, von weinen unde klagen,
von küener recken strîten möget ir nu wunder hoeren sagen

Ëz wuohs in Buregonden ein vil edel magedîn,
daz in allen Landen niht schoeners mohte sîn,
Kriemhilt geheizen, diu wart ein schoene wîp;
dar umbe muosen dëgene vil verliesen dën lîp

Der minneclîchen meide trüejen wol gezam:
ir moutten küene recken, niemen was ir gram.
âne mâzen schoene sô was ir edel lîp:
der juncfrouwen tugende zierten anderiu wîp.

Ir pflâgen drî künige edel unde rîch,
Gunther unde Gêrnôt die recken lobelîch,
unt Gîselher dër junge, ein waetlîcher dëgen;
diu frouwe was ir swëster, die helden hetens in ir pflëgen.

Ein rîchiu küneginne frou Uote ir muoter hiez;
ir vater dër hiez Dancrât, dër in diu erbe liez
sît nâch sîme lëbene, ein ellens rîcher man,
dër ouch in sîner jugende grôzer êren vil gewan.

Die hërren wâren milte, von arde hôhe erborn,
mit kraft unmâzen küene die recken ûzerkorn.
dâ zën Burgonden sô was ir lant genannt.
si frümten starkiu wunder sît in Etzelen lant.

Ze Wormze bî dëm Rîne si wonten mit ir kraft;
in dienten von ir landen vil stolziu ritterschaft
mit lobelîchen êren unz an ir endes zît.
si sturben jaemerlîche sît von zweier frouwen nît.

Die drî künige wâren, als ich gesaget hân,
von vil hôhem ellen; in wâren undertân
ouch die besten recken, von dën man hât gesaget,
starc unt viel küene, in scharpfen strîten unverzaget.

Daz was von Tronege Hagene, unt ouch dër bruoder sîn
Dancwart dër snëlle, von Metzen Ortwîn,
Die zwêne marcgrâven, Gêre unt Eckewart,
Volkêr von Alzeie, mit ganzem ellen wol bewart,

Rûmolt dër küchenmeister, ein ûzerwelter dëgen,
Sindolt unde Hûnolt; dise hërren muosen pflëgen
dës hoves unt dër êren, dër drîer künige man.
si heten noch manigen recken, dës ich genennen nienen kan.

Dancwart dër was marschalc; dô was dër nëve sîn
truhsetze dës küniniges von Metzen Ortwîn.
Sindolt dër was schenke, ein waetlîcher dëgen;
Hûnolt was kameraere: si kunden, hôher êren pflëgen

Von dës hoves êre unt von ir wîten kraft,
von ir vil hôhen wërdekeit unt von ir ritterschaft,
dër die hërren pflâgen mit freuden al ir lëben,
dësn künde iu ze wâre niemen gar ein ende gëben.

In disen hôhen êren troumte Kriemhilde,
wie si züge einen valken starc, schoene unt wilde,
dën ir zwên’ arn erkrummen; daz sie daz muoste sëhen,
irn kunde in dirre wërlde leider nimmer geschëhen.

Dën troum si dô sagete ir muoter Uoten.
sine kundes niht bescheiden baz dër guoten
‘dër valke, den du ziuhest, daz ist ein edel man;
in enwëlle got behüeten, du muost in schiere vloren hân.’

‘Waz saget ir mir von manne, vil liebiu muoter mîn?
âne recken minne sô wil ich immer sîn;
sus schoene ich wil belîben unz an mînen tôt,
daz ich von recken minn sol gewinnen nimmer nôt.’

‘Nune versprich ëz niht ze sêre,’ sprach ir muoter dô.
‘soltu immer hërzenlîche zër wërlde wërden vrô,
daz kümt von mannes minne; du wirst ein schoene wîp,
ob dir got gefüeget eins rëhte guoten ritters lîp.’

‘Die rede lât belîben, vil liebiu frouwe mîn;
ëz ist an manigen wîben vil dicke worden schîn,
wie liebe mit leide ze jungest lônen kan;
ich sol sie mîden beide, sone kan mir nimmer missegân.’

Kriemhilt in ir muote sich minne gar bewac.
sît lëbete diu vil guote vil manigen lieben tac,
daz sine wësse niemen, dën minnen wolde ir lîp
sît wart si mit êren eins vil wërden recken wîp.

Dër was dër sëlbe valke, dën si in ir troume sach,
dën ir beschiet ir muoter. wie sêre siu daz rach
An ir naehsten mâgen, die in sluogen, sint!
durch sîn eines stërben starp vil maniger muoter kint.

[Langland’s Piers Plowman is among the masterpieces of the English “Alliterative Revival” of the fourteenth century. This extract is from the C-text version, Passus IX, 152-191:

A Brytonere com braggynge a-bosted Peers al-so;
‘Wolle thow, ne wolle thow we wolleth habbe oure wil,
Bothe thy flour and thy flessh fecchen when ous lyketh,
And make ous myrye ther-myd maugre ho bygruccheth!’
Peers the plouhman tho pleynede to the knyght,
To kepe hym and hus catel as covenent was bytwyne hem:
‘Awreke me of these wastours that maken thys worlde dere;
Thei counte nat of cursing ne holy kirke dreden;
Ther worth no plente,’ quath Peers ‘and the plouh ligge.’
Curtesliche the knyght then as hus kynde wolde,
Warned Wastour and wissed hym betere,
‘Other ich shal bete thy by the lawe and brynge the in stockes.’
‘Ich was nat woned to wirche,’ quath Wastour and ich wolle nat now bygynne,’
And let lyght of the lawe and lasse of the knyght,
And sette Peers at a pese pleyne hym wher he wolde.
‘Now, by Crist,’ quath Peers ‘y shal apeyre yow alle!’
And hopede after Hunger that herde him at the ferste.
‘Ich praye the,’ quath Peers tho ‘pur charite, sire Honger,
Awreke me of these wastours for the knyght wol nat.’
Honger hente in haste Wastour by the mawe,
And wrang hum by the wombe that al waterede hus eyen.
He buffated the Brutener a-boute the chekes,
That he loked lyk a lanterne al hus lyf after.
He bet hem so bothe be barst neih hure guttes,
Ne hadde Peers with a peese-lof prayede hym by-leve.
Honger, have mercy of hem,’ quath Peers and let me yeve hem benes;
And that was bake for bayarde may be here bote.’
Tho were faitours a-fered and flowen to Peersses bernes,
And flapten on with flailes fro morwe til evene,
That Honger was nat hardy on hem for to loke,
For a potful of potage that Peersses wyf made.
An hep of eremites henten hem spades,
Spitten and spradde donge in despit of Hunger.
Thei corven here copes and courtepies hem made,
And wenten as workmen to weden and mowen;
Al for drede of here deth such dyntes yaf Hunger.
Blynd and brokeleggede he botnede a thousande,
And lame men he lechede with longen of bestes.
Preestes and other peple to Peers thei drowen,
And freres of alle fyve orders al for fere of Hunger.

William Langland (c.1331- ?).

From Die Nibelungen.
“Hildebrand’s Homecoming”, Canto 17:

Schon drängten sich draussen mit dröhnenden Tritten Zu jedem der Tore der Krieger tausend; Schon hob sein Hifthorn der Hunnenkönig, Um Sturm zu blasen. Doch stumm noch blieb es. Ob sein Herz auch zermalmt war, er musste horchen, Und gramvoll beseufzte die grosse Seele Verloren Grund begrabener Hoffnung In des stolzen Germanen Sterbegesang:

‘Erwacht! In den Wolken
Ist Waffengerassel.
Erwacht, es gewittert,
‘Als wieherten Rosse.
Walkürien kommen
Zum Kampf geflogen
In glänzenden Brünnen,
Von Brautlust glühend.
Sie lenken herunter
Die luftigen Renner,
Um Tapfer zu kiesen
Mit tötendem Kuss.

Erwachet! Es warten
Die Wodanswölfe,
Es rufen die Raben
Ihr Mahl zu rüsten.
Um der Seele die Pforte
Zum Sonnenpfade
Weit aufzuschliessen,

Ist Eisen geschliffen.
Das Leben ist Schlaf nur,
Erlösung der Schlachttod.
Erwachet zum Sterben,
Und Sterbend erwacht.

Erwachet! Es winken
Von Walhalls Schwelle
Die erkorenen Gäste
Des Götterkönigs.
Da lebt ihr in Leibern
Aus Licht gewoben;
Da ist Kampf nur Kurzweil
Und Wunde Wollust.
Da labt das Gedenken
Erduldeter Leiden,
Da schildert ihr scherzend
Der Niblunge Not.’

Wilhelm Jordan

[In the absence of any modern English attempt to restore alliteration in its full-blooded form, there may be a certain interest here in the following piece. The chiming effect of the alliterations serves in this instance rather to embellish and lend spice to the recitative flow of the verse, not aspiring to become the ordering principle of the poem:

EUROPA AND THE BULL

Naked they came, a niggling core of girls
Maggoting gaily in the curling wool
Of morning mist, and careless as the lark
That gargled overhead. They were the root
Of all that writhing air, the frothing rock
Of that grey sea in whose vacuity
Footless they stood, nor knew if it or they
Were moving now. Yet, even as they gazed,
Cave after cave of light calved out of gloom,
As on they glided through the muddling veils
Roof rose on roof, laugh laddered into laugh
Into the motionless meadow, clear as stone,
Interminably domed.
Nothing supernal here; only cow-parsley:
Any place was convenient velvet,
And everwhere was peace, pin-drizzled by
Bird-song; the bay bare lake a gong
Unbruised. Easy at the sea’s edge the rocks
Breathed up and down.
The Inland hills stood still
Like hoardings to be stared at. Happy place!
And happy happy day! How giddily then
They sleeked along the sand with smoking heels.
Some frayed off with fountain-fling of arms
To play and plunge, staccatoing the water
And some more slowly followed, picking the deep flowers
Out of the fume and underdrone of bees: green-kneed
They rose and fell in waves delightedly: new sights
Consumed them; new mites and motes of smell
Held and incensed them: crumbs of booty glowed
In every foot-dent, eiderdowntrodden.
And all among them moved the moon-like cows
Grazing light tracks across the long night-grass.

But look! the Bull! indubitably bull,
Elbowing slowly through the obeisant herd,
Blazing and bellowing. His massy head,
Laden like a dahlia, dallied and swung,
And his vast eye slid to and fro as sharp
And glaucous as sea-holly, salting all
Their thoughts with suddenness. They hardly knew
What most to admire; but most his hub of power
And circumambience of gentleness
Delighted them. Arms curved and craved to stroke
His milky sides, insidiously veined
With watery blues and bloody ivyings.
But how describe him? words can only add
To lightning the thunder’s redundancy.
He was most godlike and most temperate.

Slow, slow, slow, with bubble-pause and slide
He paced before Europa there, and she
As if with shivering drew her shoulders now
Shyly about her, yet she shivered still.
Never did shadow so shimmer with midges
As she with switherings. Should she go?
Or no? Body and soul see-sawed in her.
As slowly the swan comes forward, in advance
Bearing its bellying tray of effusive plumes,
Yet backward rears its head and huffs its glance
As if it fended off its offering that presumes:
Swollen with slowness and undertowed by longing
It grows on the water, close, thundery, and thronging,
Till suddenly beside us, without fuss,
Immense it blossoms like a cumulus –
So slowly rose Europa, slowly she
Opened her fan-like self and mounted him
And spread her valances.
O how his reticence reined and trounced him then,
Lifting his feet into flounces of flight
And ratchet-edges of agitation,
Chawing each gentle step. To have and to hold –
How he would love to have but feared to hold
Her who as srnooth as metal sat and smiled.
And how his silver slaverings flowed, and now
His chattering hooves danced under him like stones....