The Rudolf Steiner Archive

The flower that is cut from the stem withers. Had it been left on the stem, it would have turned the forces within it to seed formation; and the life of the plant to which it belongs would have been renewed in another. - What has the cut done to the stem? — Has it not transformed one way of being into a completely different one? Has it not robbed certain forces of the possibility of forming that to which they were called according to the order of nature? — Even after it has been cut off, forces still act on the flower. But these are different from those that previously called it into existence and that would have led it to fruit formation afterwards. They are forces under whose influence it gradually decays. The flower has passed into a different realm of forces. Into the realm that can produce no growth and no reproduction, but only chemical and physical effects. With the cut in the stem, a stream of life has been interrupted. And the flower has been taken up by another stream of existence. This current destroys what the flower is destined to become. The flower belongs to one realm of existence. And only in this realm can it become what it is meant to become. It becomes something else when it is snatched from this realm and transferred to another. And then a current that is only at home in its realm is destroyed. The flower must give up its plant character. The aims of the world into which it now enters do not lie in the formation of seeds and fruits. They have nothing to do with growth and reproduction. They impose a direction on the substances of the flower that is not in the nature of the flower.

In nature, therefore, a thing can be snatched from the ends towards which it tends, and its existence can be directed in another direction, one which is not in its nature.

What can happen to a plant can happen to every being, including humans. And it can happen with all the forces that are active in a person. Only with humans is everything less simple, less clear than with the other realms of nature. And everything becomes all the more complicated the more one ascends to the spiritual powers of man. But if we are able to see simplicity in complexity, we can see that the same thing can happen to the human spirit that happens to a blossom when it loses its connection to the stem.

What lives in the spirit of man can be compared to the current that, passing through the plant, constitutes its particular essence. And man experiences this current as the content of his soul. In this soul content he finds the direction and goal of his being. It is his inner life. If he lacked this inner life, he would be like the flower cut off from the stem. He would have to succumb to currents of power that are not his in the truest sense. But the essence of man is not as clearly defined as that of a flower. It has countless gradations. And it acquires its special character from the fact that man himself works on shaping this inner life. It becomes all the more meaningful the more man works on himself.

A person who does not work on themselves lacks inner life. They become entirely what their outer nature makes of them. The impressions of the outer world shape their soul. Yes, that is precisely the breaking away of man from his spiritual roots when he abandons himself to these impressions. The inner life only begins where man really adds something of his own to what he receives from the outside.

How many speak of their inner life and mean nothing but the reflection of the outside world within them. People live busy with what everyday life brings. They learn from the demands of everyday life what they themselves do. They suffer from the events of daily life, or rejoice in them. Depending on whether one or the other is the case, they act in their actions. Yes, their whole character is probably only a reflection of the outside world. One need only recall the differences between the inhabitants of the mountains and the plains, between those of the cities and the countryside, and one will admit that man bears the imprint of the outside world. And yet this imprint arises only when his inner self cooperates. A firm boundary between what the external nature imprints on man and what he forms from within cannot be drawn. But the character traits of the human being that are formed from the inner nature of his soul stand out clearly from those that are impressed on him from outside. Just as the essence of the flower consists in its progression towards the fruit and the seed in its growth, so the essence of the human being lies in the internalization of his life. This inwardness is the ideal towards which he strives to advance. There are many stages of development on the way to this ideal. From the savage to Goethe there are many such stages. The savage can set only a small inner strength against the influences of the outer world. He is torn this way and that by the forces that affect him. Goethe, on the other hand, forms a soul content from a few external impressions that creates a higher world. One need only seriously compare the lives of the two. One will find that the savage's inner life directly reflects the effects of the external world; while Goethe draws from the depths of his soul something that fills the reflection with a content that makes it richer and more exalted than the external object it reflects. Just as plants take substances from the chemical and physical world and imprint their own essence on them, so humans take in impressions from the external world and, through the power of their soul, channel them towards higher developmental goals. Thus, the relationship between the physical and chemical realms and the plant realm can be compared to a similar relationship in the human being: between the realm of external impressions and that in which the inner power of the soul unfolds its effects. And just as the plant part can lose itself in the chemical and physical realm, so the human being can lose himself in outer life.

What is brought about by an artificial intervention in the example of the plant exists in man as the essence of his character. At earlier stages of his development, he is cut off from his inner life; at later stages, he reaches it. In this way, he gradually moves upwards into higher realms. His nature strives for these higher realms. Through this striving, he must find the goal that is inherent in his soul. The lower the stages of his development, the more alien they are to the nature of his soul. The more the goals of the corresponding realms lie in different directions than his own. Man thus finds himself more and more by developing into the higher realms.

Two realms are most clearly distinguished from each other. The realm of external nature, which forms man according to itself; and the inner, spiritual realm, which gives the formation of external nature a character that could never come from it itself. — Nature and spirit: man belongs to both. If he were all nature, he would be only the outer imprint of a human being, not a human being himself. If he were entirely spirit, he would have to have already reached the goal of his development. He stands between the two.

The individual spirit of man, his soul, is rooted in the All-Spirit. It is, in a sense, an illusion when the individual spirit sees itself as an absolutely independent being. However, this delusion is part of the nature of man on the stages of his imperfection. For the delusion would be no less great if the individual spirit, in its isolation, simply wanted to explain its essence as the All-Spirit. It would be as incorrect as if one wanted to mistake the image of the sun reflected by a concave mirror for the sun itself. The All-Spirit lives in every soul; but He lives in it in a special way. It is present in each soul in accordance with its nature. Therefore, one cannot directly recognize the All-Spirit as such. One can only live it within oneself, allow it to flow unimpeded within oneself. “I am the All-Spirit” is just as correct as it is wrong. For “I am the All-Spirit in a special way.” Only this special way in which the All-Spirit comes into being in me can I recognize. I should open my gates as widely as possible to the All-Spirit; I should prepare the places in my journey so that he may find his dwelling place in them in the freest possible way. He flows into me as widely and as universally as I offer him a dwelling place. He does not hold back; only I myself can erect obstacles for him. Man's development consists in removing these obstacles. He lives in veils; and he gradually imbues these veils with the light that he receives from the Universal Spirit. How this is to happen is determined by man's original disposition. The veils in which his soul is clothed are not at his discretion. He finds himself in them. The All-Spirit is in them. But it is not in them as man is meant to place it. First of all, there is the outer physical covering. It is subject to the laws in which the chemical and physical forces operate. This covering, taken by itself, is, in its way, absolutely perfect. There is a harmony in it as in the realm of the stars and of physical nature in general. Security and calm progress are the hallmarks of this realm. And if these formations only exist for themselves, only isolated in their realm, they only strive for the goals that are peculiar to this realm, then they live a perfect life. When we gaze up at the starry sky, we perceive the mood of the soul that streams forth from this realm when it is left to its own devices, when it is not a shell but an entity in its own right. From this primal source of world existence, the realm of the living, the organic, stands out. Beings with growth and reproduction arise within it. The laws originally active in it take on a different direction and assume different forms. Thus the structures of this realm become a shell. Their nature is determined by what they now contain within them. Their laws, which are complete within themselves, become servants of a higher lawfulness. They must adapt to this lawfulness. And this lawfulness itself can only work in such a way that it takes into account the nature of the chemical and physical. The chemical and physical is a substance with which the living works. It must achieve what it is meant to achieve according to its nature; but it can only do so if it finds the way in which the chemical and physical forces can correspond to this nature. An interaction occurs between what is called upon to arise as life forms and the chemical and physical laws. This interaction provides the basis for imperfection in world development. Imperfection could not arise in a realm unto itself. It can arise where the laws of one realm interact with those of another. For it is a matter here of a continual finding of the right way for this interaction. The variety of life forms arises from the fact that this interaction can be effected in the most diverse ways. From mushrooms to oak trees, we have different types of this interaction. And in one case more, in the other less, the outer form is dominated by the inner life formation, and is its true imprint. Where there is no harmony between the form required from within and that which the external physical laws allow, imperfection arises. It is not due to the physical and chemical laws as such that a plant malformation arises, but to the fact that the demands of the inner life do not do justice to these laws in their specificity. What constitutes the “lower nature” of a being is never imperfect in itself; imperfection arises when the “higher nature” pushes the lower nature in the wrong direction. It is not the shell that is imperfect, but the way it is used.

Just as life arises within the chemical and physical, so too does desire and repulsion arise within life, or the world of desire. And the living becomes the shell of desire just as the physical becomes the shell of the living. The laws of life become expressions of what a being finds desirable or what it wants to reject. The interaction that now comes to light will consist in pushing life in the direction of desire. The being in question will no longer merely live; rather, it will live in a way that befits its desires. A new source of imperfection arises.

The human soul is enclosed in three shells. It is in them that man is born as a thinking being. For it is only in his world of thoughts that his true inner being lies. These three shells are illuminated and permeated by this being. Each shell has its own laws; and each shell, in its own way, belongs to a particular realm.

The human being as a being of thought lives in the world of thought; this world of thought is first clothed in the shell of desire, which belongs to a special realm with its own laws; this shell of desire rests in the same way in the shell of life, and this in the physical shell. Man is not simple, but composed of a soul-core and three soul-covers: and his three soul-covers belong to three different worlds, into which he thus extends through his outer garments. And the core of the soul stands in the middle and gives meaning and character to the garments. The imperfection of man will consist in the fact that his soul cannot reconcile the demands of its essence with the laws of the shells, which are also the laws of the realms to which these shells belong. And the soul, what determines it, where do its laws come from? They are none other than the laws of the All-Spirit, only in a different form from that in which they find expression in the outer shells. The soul itself is a shell. Just as it is the core for the three outer shells, so it is itself a shell for the All-Spirit in other forms. And these forms correspond step by step to what has moved into the outer shells of the All-Spirit. Just as the master builder remains an independent person even after he has embodied his skill in the outer structure of the house, so the All-Spirit remains an independent spirit even after he has placed his essence in the three shells of the physical, the animate, and the desiring. Each of the three outer forms of the All-Spirit corresponds to an independent inner form of spirit: in order that the shell of the desiring nature might be laid around the beings, the Primordial Spirit had to develop within itself the form of the renouncing one. Desiring and renouncing belong together like warmth and cold. When warmth arises in one place, it must flow out at another, which thereby becomes colder. If beings arise that desire, their desire can only arise from a primal ground that forms renunciation in itself as its opposite. Likewise, life in the shell must correspond to its opposite in the spiritual primal ground. Life now consists of growth and reproduction, that is, in that which has life moves beyond itself. The opposite is complete inner stillness; beatitude. This is the second spiritual form of the primal ground corresponding to life. The third spiritual form corresponds to the cosmic, chemical and physical laws of the universe. These laws are spread out over space and time in an infinite variety of things. If we contrast this diversity with the unity that dominates it and finds expression in each of its forms, we are led to the unified spirit itself, which lives in the physical diversity. Spirit, bliss, and renunciation are the three forms of the primal source of things, which live externally in the three sheaths, the physical, the animate, and the desiring. The individual human soul is connected to these three basic forms of the primal spirit as if to its tribe. And just as the outer shells enclose them, so they in turn form the shell for renunciation, bliss and spirit. Thus, if the outer man extends into three outer realms, the soul extends into three spiritual realms. Man's own realm is in the middle between these six realms and together with them forms a seventh. Man's being is therefore sevenfold. And the seven realms give their laws to the fundamental parts that make up man: the physical, the living, the desiring, the thinking, the renouncing, the blissful, and the spiritual. Each of the seven realms has its own laws, through which it brings about what takes place in it. Take man's very own realm, that of thought. Thoughts combine within us according to laws that live within the world of thought. If that were not the case, the regularity of our [thought life] would have to be exactly the same as that of external things. But that is by no means the case. Otherwise, one could not speak of logical thinking. I understand a process or a thing only if I associate certain thoughts with them that make them understandable to me. If I left it to the thoughts that arise quite by chance in connection with the thing or the process, I could never arrive at a real understanding. It is an important proposition, originating in the Pythagorean school, that man differs from the animal in that he can count. By counting things, he arranges them according to aspects that are taken from the realm of thought. Things do not count themselves; and as they appear to us in mere perception, there is no immediate reason to count them. We count them because we want to summarize them according to the purposes of thought. And so it is with all the other forms in which thought deals with things. Man attributes the circular form to certain things. He cannot do so until he has explained to himself, by purely logical thinking, what a circle is. He could never gain a pure conception of the circle from the sense world. What one can learn about circles in the world of the senses are only approximate circles, imperfect circles. We recognize them as such because we have an idea of the circle from a purely ideal point of view. And so it is with all real thinking. Those who do real science always move on to ideas that are not present in their purity in the external world of the senses. They idealize. He develops something within himself that none of the senses can provide. He receives the laws for this from a world that is not the sensual one. The thoughts that we relate to external objects still point to another world. They are, to be sure, images of external things; but at the same time they are images of the laws of the spirit of these external things, which the senses cannot gain from them. In addition to the gates of the senses, we must also open the inner gates of the soul if we want to understand the essence of things. This could not be if what is called to us through the gates of the soul did not belong to the essence of things themselves. The thing that I perceive through the sense of sight is only one side of the thing; the other side is apparently absent when I merely open the eye; it hides itself from this organ. It becomes apparent when I open the inner organ of the soul. Then a thought-image enters through this. And this belongs to the external thing. It is the other side of the same thing. The thing is only complete when I familiarize myself with both sides of it. Thus, the essence of a thing is actually in the unknown source of things. And it reveals itself to me from two sides: externally through the senses, internally in the life of thought. A thing is only complete for those who, in addition to perceiving it with their senses, also reflect on it. People misunderstand the facts of the matter here if they believe that they already have the whole thing in what the senses provide and only want to allow themselves to repeat the external thing in thought. They do this because they consider everything that goes beyond external reality to be unreal, a mere figment of the imagination. They do not know that thought is an image that receives its content from two sides: from the external world, in which the external forms of things are, and from the higher spiritual world, in which the deeper meaning, the actual essence of things, lies. The world of thought lives in the middle between the three lower and the three upper realms. Things are both above and below. Everything that is below and tends more or less towards the physical, corresponds to something above that represents the actual spiritual essence of the lower. The two sides of things cast their rays; and these rays meet in the human soul, which thus gives images of things in its thoughts, which receive their luminosity and color from two sides.

Just as it is true that thought reflects the truth because the truth of things illuminates it from two sides, it is also true that, in order to be fruitful, in order to have content, thought must be truly illuminated from two sides. We cannot recognize a plant through mere thought: we need sensory perception for that. Likewise, mere thinking is of little help if one wants to get to the essence of things, which lies in the spiritual. Thought must be illuminated from within, as it is illuminated from without, through the sensory properties of things. People who are up to these things have called this inner illumination enlightenment, inspiration or intuition. It is spiritual perception and the exact opposite of sensory perception. It is only through this that the true inner life of the human being in the higher sense begins. Through it, the soul sees into the spiritual world. And the sensual then appears to it as an external form of this spiritual one, not much more than the figure of a human being recreated in papier-mâché as compared to the real human being. The nature of illumination only becomes noticeable, however, in people who have particularly essential perceptions from the higher spiritual world; and only in them does one hear talk of illumination or inspiration. But it is not only present in them. A certain degree of it can be found in every human being. Something from the spiritual world dawns in every brain. It is just so weak in many cases that, compared to the vivid impressions of the outer world, it appears to many as nothing, as an illusion that only serves to make man understand in thought what the senses perceive.

The realm of life flows directly from the spirit. It carries within itself the germ of becoming separate. Individual life can arise within the All-life. One does not comprehend life if one does not grasp it in its universality and all-livingness. All wishing and desiring is still far from life. The living thing only becomes a separate current in the system of forces of the All. It does not force the other living things into its service. It does not desire or abhor. It takes only to give. It forms itself to give existence to other forms. It lives in transformation (metamorphosis). And it retains nothing, accumulates nothing in the intermediate stages of metamorphosis. Whatever is to be accumulated must arise from desire. Desires must form themselves around a center. Life does not challenge other living things. Desire creates a form that must be dissolved again. The realm of desires is the realm where the forms that gather around centers in this way influence each other. Where they interact. - In the realm of life, we only deal with individuals in a suggestive way; in the realm of desire, the individuals are distinct. Through his desires, man gives the realm of desires a touch that bears the character of his separate existence. Through his life, he gives only life, that is, he forms beings that bear nothing of his separate being, but only correspond to the general nature of life. The living person says only: man is there; and he also only produces men. The desiring human being says: “I, this individual, am here.” The realm into which this sound penetrates thus acquires the special coloration of this individual being. The individual is now here forever. Something has come into being that continues to have an effect. Even if I myself could be completely absent, annihilated, for a moment: I will encounter this effect of mine when I am back again. My new effect belongs to my old one. Both must influence each other.

It is now nature itself that has brought man so far that he animates the three lower realms from that of the thinking soul. Within the thinking soul slumber the parts, the inner cores of the soul, which man awakens in himself by working on himself, going beyond mere nature. Through this awakening, he continues the work of nature. He develops; and with this development, the processes of the three lower realms are brought into the corresponding connections with the higher ones. Into those that are predisposed in them by the fact that the life forms of the higher realms have assumed an external existence in the lower ones. Immediately below the realm of thoughts lies that of desire. An interplay between these two realms first takes place in man. Thoughts first serve desires. Desire can work as a blind force. The sensation arises that something gives pleasure, something else gives displeasure. Desire works according to pleasure.

Thus man can never be in the world without his own being, as he has created it for himself, staring at him. The individual cannot begin at one point of development. He must tie in with what he has previously brought into the world, starting from himself. Here we are looking at the ledger of life. We not only live our personal life within ourselves, within our personality, but we also live it outside of our personality. We can do this consciously or unconsciously. And we can do it more or less consciously. The intellectual person can only come to the general awareness that it is so: the intuitive person recognizes the items of his life book in detail. And they recognize them, looking both forward and back. Intuitive people speak of their calling, of their special mission. This is the result of looking forward. It is the realization of the special task that the All-Soul has assigned to them. As such realization opens up to them, the realization of the past also follows. They get to know the items that they entered earlier in their life account book. For they must bring both into harmony with each other. In another sense, what is later in development relates to what is earlier like the spirit to the forms in which it first lived itself out, revealed itself. What was earlier is the result of a confrontation between forces in different realms. These results are stored as effects. And what happens again can only be a new confrontation with these effects. Now two things can happen. The forces of desire aroused by the personality can have their center of gravity in this world of desire itself, and by giving the personality its character, not the other way around: the personality to them, this center of gravity can remain in the realm of desire. Or the personality can place the forces of desire in the service of the soul's inner life. They lose their center of gravity in the realm of desire and gain another in the superordinate realm. But in doing so, they also lose the character of separateness that prevails in their realm. They no longer collide like strangers; they resonate together, because each individual, separate desire is given such a direction that it does not conflict with the others, but rather delivers a harmonious result with them. Diversity is generated in the realm of desire. Thus this realm acquires full content in itself. The next higher realm, the realm of thought, of the soul, would remain without content if it did not fill itself with the content that it draws from the lower realm. The desires are released from the bonds of their own realm by the forces of the higher realm. This is the course of evolution: the forces of a particular realm are given full expression. In doing so, they take on forms that are an external expression of the original forces. In this way, the first realm withdraws some of its forces. It releases them from itself, externalizes them. The remaining part becomes even more inward, even more spiritual than the original was. This inward part now spiritualizes, as a soul, the form that it previously separated from itself, as a center. Thus what was previously a unity becomes a duality, and the two members of the duality work together. They produce a third. The third is a repetition of the first, only the two members, which were still undivided in the first, are divided and their unity now consists in their harmonious interaction. There are two kinds of unity: one in which the members are not yet separated and therefore work from a common center, and the other in which the members are separated and the unity therefore consists in the harmonious interaction of the separated.

The external experience that man has through the application of his senses and his mind is a school for the higher development of man. He learns the regular use of thought from it. External events constantly correct our thoughts when they take the wrong direction. The upheavals in the world of thought are as much proof of this as everyday experiences. If I see a black object in the distance and mistake it for a cat, then coming closer can teach me that I am only dealing with a balled-up piece of cloth. This is a common example of how the outside world regulates thought. The correction that Copernicus made to the thinking of his predecessors regarding the course of the stars is an example of the same in the great historical life of thought. The things of the inner life do not seem so compelling on the thought. The thought must already be completely clear with itself if it is to absorb the spiritual content in the same way as it absorbs the content of external perception. He must not make any mistakes, because it depends on his self-established correctness whether he can see the spiritual in the right context. The spiritual content needs consciousness as its mature vehicle. Consciousness must therefore work correctly if the spiritual content is not to be distorted. Even though the sensual is transitory and changing, it teaches man the forms of thought. And with these thought-forms he can then comprehend the eternal. These same thoughts belong both to the temporal and the eternal. But as a personal being, man himself belongs to the temporal. He is related to the temporal. He can rise to the Eternal only by taking his starting-point from the temporal. He must learn to think in terms of the temporal. When he has thus acquired the laws of the temporal in the right way, they will be his guide on the soil from which the fruits of the Eternal grow. Man must first think surely, clearly and aright, then he can unlock his thoughts to higher illumination. If he tries to do so earlier, he is like a child who wants to climb a mountain before he has learned to walk. First one learns to read and to calculate, and then one applies reading and calculating in order to comprehend the truths of the sciences. Likewise, one first learns to think in the temporal; then one applies this thinking to the processes in the eternal. One will only make uncertain steps if one ventures into the field of the eternal before one has acquired the prerequisites for doing so. The most important of these prerequisites is to develop, through careful observation of reality, a thinking that flows in a proper way; and with this, an uninhibited, free opening up of oneself to the higher contents of the world with this thinking.

Thoughts take physical form in the human being. Its existence is conditioned by the physical laws that govern the brain and nervous system. But it also comes into its own in different ways in its own realm. Just as it can be applied to external things and also to the individual processes of the inner spiritual life, it is not original. Take the thought of a tree, for example, an oak tree. In the moment when we stand in front of the oak tree, it is a very specific thought image of this very oak tree. In the realm of thought itself, we rise from this particular image to a much more general one. We arrive at a mental image of an oak tree that does not really exist anywhere in detail, and yet it is a lawful thought form. This thought form is in turn connected with others. And when we survey our field of thought, we see that everything in it is connected in a lawful, inner way. This life of thought is the shadow image of the true higher life, in which everything is unity, inner harmony of being. Thought is the image of the super-thought. The super-thought is the creative essence. We merge with it when we transcend thought. From it comes our enlightenment, our inspiration. In it we live and move and have our being. When we rise to this region, we experience what we otherwise merely think. We move in entities that have life as in the human world the physical entities. Only then are these entities not governed by the limiting laws to which physical entities are subject. And the formless thoughts, the exalted images, which do not yet bear the reflection of the lower spheres, are the language that these entities speak to man. These entities themselves, and with them the human souls, are hidden as if behind a wall. We perceive the language - the exalted thoughts; the entities themselves and we with them move and we behind this wall. But it is their power that speaks to us, and it is our power that listens to the speaking. When this happens to us, then our ear listens to the divine message that tells us about the essence of things; then our heart clings to the heart of the world and, while the ear listens, perceives the pulse of the eternal. Space and time cease to have meaning in such moments: What the human being hears applies to many times and many spaces. These are the defining moments of life, in which the human being thus feels at the heart of the eternal; and it is a high stage of development of the human being when he makes such hearing and feeling his whole being. Then the impressions of the lower worlds cease to have any significance for him; they are only small nuances of color and tone in the eternal picture that unfolds before his mind's eye. The small lines of life intertwine as insignificant tendrils with the eternal lines that entwine across time and space and express the laws of the cosmos in eternal harmony.

Every event in the physical world is simultaneously an event in other spheres of the world. When I stretch out my hand, not only the physical process that I see with my eyes takes place, but at the same time a process takes place in the world of desires and another in the world of thoughts; not to mention the other worlds in which the corresponding processes also occur. The human soul dwelling in the physical body perceives only the physical process in its immediate form: of the other processes, it perceives only a kind of silhouette, a reflection that falls on this physical one from the other worlds. Only beings who spend their existence in the corresponding worlds can perceive the processes in these worlds as directly and in their original form as the physical person perceives physical existence. Our physical eyes see physical things; eyes that are made only of desire substance could perceive desires as physical eyes perceive flowers. And before a pure eye of thought, thoughts pass by as they do before human eyes, tables and cupboards. Those who cannot awaken a true feeling for these hidden worlds within themselves will not come to an understanding of what real human development means. Above the physical world lies the life world; and above that, the realm of desire: the place of wishes. Compared to physical matter, everything in this sphere is more subtle and fleeting. Of course, the laws of physics do not apply to this realm. Two beings of the same kind can be in one place, and distant things do not appear foreshortened as they do in the physical world. Colors are not opaque, as they are in the physical realm. They are opaque only because they appear on the opaque physical substance as its boundary. When this realm begins to reveal itself to man, he begins to realize how little he knows about the things of the world without knowledge of the same. How little he knows, above all, about himself and his fellow human beings. What man is otherwise able to keep locked in his bosom, his desires and feelings, his passions and temperament, in short, the whole world of his desires, reveals itself as a second organism in which the physical one is embedded, and which does not appear to the physical eye as color appears to the color-blind eye. The physical body alone can hide the world of feeling from the physical eye; it cannot do so from the eye that sees the organic cloud of desire in which the physical nature is embedded. Man's emotional life becomes an open book to this eye. Just as man spreads out his hands in the lower realm and thereby changes his form, so he sends out mobile rays when he has a desire. And just as his hand grasps a physical object, so the rays of his desires intertwine with the worlds that meet them in the realm of desires. Not hard as in physical space, desires collide in the space of desires; but they flow into each other, mix and mingle, and create complicated desire-forms, somewhat similar to how composite substances arise from simple ones in the physical world. Two people sit together. Their desire-rays flow into each other continuously. And when they leave the place, they have given existence to a being that now has an independent existence in the world of desire. No one can enter a place without leaving behind traces of their desires and feelings. And for our own being of desire, it matters who has entered the place before we do. We always, so to speak, lie down in the bed that our predecessor has prepared for us. People who have developed their sensitivity in this direction know this. And those who have not developed such sensitivity have no idea what others sometimes go through due to influences that are completely unknown to them. But such influences do not only emanate from people. In the world of desire, the receptive person encounters currents that were not previously at home in the physical world and that can only become so through him. He encounters the actual beings of desire that have no physical form. Almost all people are exposed to such encounters, but many are not aware of them. One must realize that much of what lives in the physical has its origin in the sphere of desire, and we just do not see the intrusion of their entities. For those who can perceive in this direction, much becomes evident in terms of its origins, of which the ordinary person sees only the effects. Man is almost always surrounded by extra-physical influences. The joker who tickles the funny bones of those around him is surrounded by a host of beings of desire and covetousness, who point his stories in the right direction. One sees the effect, but not the origin. Only pure intellectual beings lack this fleeting environment. A colorless cloud hovers around them, keeping out any influence from outside.

Man, realizing that he lives in such a world, cannot remain without an expansion of his outlook on life. His sense of duty and responsibility must undergo a significant broadening. Without such realization, he may believe that his “inner world” belongs to him alone, and that he is only responsible to physical realities. This will change when the third eye awakens. An ethic of desire will be added to his ethic of action. Just as he will deny himself actions that cause harm to the environment, so he will also deny himself desires and longings that must have an unfavorable effect on their realm. He will recognize duties in his heart just as he recognizes duties in the outside world and allows himself to be guided by the rules that can serve the prosperous coexistence of people.

The emotional life of a person who recognizes no higher duties is chaotic and disorderly. It is increasingly seized by noble harmony in those who grasp such a world of duties. Man then fits into the world quite differently. The chaotically surging feelings and passions are something fleeting and insubstantial, because they mutually cancel and destroy each other. Those who waste their feelings today in any direction, on any event, and tomorrow on something else, repeatedly destroy the results of their existence. Those who keep their feelings in strict harmony with each other shape their lives into a whole, which can therefore also be integrated as a whole into the world of desires. A chaotic life flows into the general world of desires like a dirty stream into the sea; one can still see the direction in which the dirt is moving, polluting the sea. A pure river flows into the sea and is absorbed into it without affecting its purity. And just as the sea must gradually overcome the dirt of the stream, so the world of desires must overcome the emotionally impure effects of life. A higher degree of human development brings consciousness to the way a person acts on the world of desires. What otherwise happens unconsciously and therefore completely randomly and arbitrarily, is then brought up into consciousness. Those who are able to do this will no longer desire unconsciously, just as the consciously aware human being acts consciously and not like an automaton in the physical world. Just as we commit harmful acts during our physical lives if we do not know the rules of action that lead to good, so too can we produce harmful effects in the realm of desire; and those who are completely unconscious of this realm become its playthings. The great religious founders of all times endeavored to give people rules for their inner life, so that their feelings and perceptions could become a harmonious link in the realm of desire: so that they would not work as troublemakers in this realm, but as members of its great whole. It is therefore only natural and understandable that such religious founders gave rules not only for external action, but also for the emotional life. How pleasure and pain should affect the heart, how renunciation and love are to be esteemed: these are the things that religious founders speak about, and those teachers of religion and wisdom who know something of the higher worlds. In the great, glorious song of human perfection, in the “Bhagavad-Gita,” one reads: “Respect pleasure and pain, gain and loss, victory or defeat equally. Gird yourself for battle, and you will not fall into sin.” Or in another place: ‘It is the desire, the will, the strength that springs from passion. Get to know this all-consuming and devastating enemy.’ Such ethical principles do not refer to external action; they refer to the behavior of man in the world, where desires, longings, and cravings live. And the more a person delves into the depths of the soul, the more he is able to develop the ethics of the world of desires. The mystics of all times have worked on these ethics.

The human soul belongs to an even broader realm than that of desires. It is the realm of thoughts. It is through this that man can truly snatch himself from the temporal and attach himself to the eternal. Thought is the most comprehensive element in man's being. But it also depends on man himself what he makes of the thought with which he lives. He can make it a servant of his desires and cravings; or he can use it to rise to the eternal laws or essences of things. While the beings of the desire realm surround the human being as if arbitrarily, as if they were only loosely connected, forming a unified realm, the world of thought appears as a well-planned, strictly regulated whole. Each link serves the other in a precisely defined way. The desire beings therefore place us in a small circle, the thoughts in a large one. And what lives in us from the world of thoughts forms a far more enduring core of our being than our desire organism. Just as our physical organism is embedded in the desire organism, so are both, the physical and the desire organism, embedded in our thought organism. And when the eye of thought opens, the thought organism can be recognized. It presents itself differently from the desire organism. This is something fluid and flowing, and only becomes more stable at higher levels of human development. The thought organism has a characteristic basic structure. Although the thought rays emanating from a person are variable, usually changing from moment to moment, a certain skeletal structure is always re-established, and this retains certain basic features from birth to death. It is, as it were, the keynote of the personality. This keynote also forms the center from which thought-effects of a certain nature always go out into the thought-environment, and upon which they impinge from without. Through this world of his thoughts man is a participant in a realm in which the effects go far beyond what is possible in the physical world and also in the world of desire. Through his thoughts the beings of this kingdom speak to him. They speak to him more definitely, more gravely, more inwardly than the beings of the desires. The effects that extend from the thought part of man into the thought environment are also accordingly. Now man can let his thoughts be influenced by his desires. He can use his thoughts to best satisfy these desires. Instead of freeing himself from the fetters of desires and passions through the elevating power of thought, he can make thought the servant of those lower forces. The result is an enrichment and intensification of the world of desire through thought. The world of desires is peopled with beings from the Thought Kingdom, whereas, on the contrary, the beings living in him should be liberated. Thus the world of separate existence is fostered. The beings that arise in this way retard the true progress of cosmic evolution. Conversely, he furthers this evolution when the creatures of the world of desire are seized by the power of thought and led to higher goals. Wishes and desires do not cease to be what they are, But they acquire a character that strives towards the goals of the world of thought. People who ennoble their desires in this way, through an idealistic direction of their being, present themselves to the seer in such a way that their desire organism is in beautiful harmony with their own thoughts and these in turn are in harmony with the cosmic world thoughts. Such a person lives harmoniously in the universe of the cosmic system to which he belongs. His wishes advance this system and his thoughts become helpers for the beings of thought that govern this system. A person has reached a higher level of development when nothing more of subordinate wishes and desires disturbs this harmony. A personality in whom this is the case can be the carrier of a being of thought, whose work is in complete harmony with the cosmic powers of will. In this case it is no longer the world of thoughts of the individual personality that speaks, but an all-embracing, superior entity. It then bears the body, not for its own sake, but for the sake of the beings to whom it has to communicate. For in what it has to think and will, nothing flows in of what the personality as such has to desire, to long for and to will. Everything their will is directed towards remains within the sphere of thought. Such beings have reached a summit of humanity. They have ascended to a level that those of a lower standing can perhaps attain through special efforts for a few supreme moments of stability in life. And when they have such moments, they encounter the traces of those highly developed beings whose power comes to meet them for their own further development. It must be man's highest aspiration to meet such traces of beings who have completely withdrawn from the physical and also the desire spheres, and who only embody themselves in human bodies because they are to be teachers of others; and because these others can only understand them when they speak to them with human lips, with a human tongue. For themselves, these beings represent a higher state of incarnation, which hovers over man like an ideal to which he should aspire. But only those who have matured to hear the language of thought, which speaks not of temporal but of lasting processes, can hear the voice of such personalities. To such a person they then impart the higher teaching in wisdom and make him acquainted with the far-reaching purposes of the Cosmos, in which he then learns to cooperate. The higher mystical teaching takes place entirely in this region. And all lower teaching is a preparation for this higher teaching.

The human soul has its own definite place in this realm. Through this place, it is a citizen of its cosmos. And its task is to gather from the lower realms that which is to be carried up from them into this higher realm. But all this must first be purified before it can fulfill its task here. As the blacksmith works the raw iron from nature into the appropriate forms, so the soul takes the raw passions and desires and forms them, purifying them, so that they can be integrated into the element of the world of thought. The human soul has descended from this higher realm to gather the honey of the spirit from the lower realms and return laden with it to its original home. In a state of innocence it was when it began its descent. In a state of purification it will be when it returns. It is an egg before its descent, which carries the germ of its later being within itself. This egg reveals itself gradually, the being with all its organic limbs reveals itself. And these limbs are related to the realms into which the being will be placed on its journey of development. It uses these limbs where their corresponding realm is; and it leaves the characteristics of these realms where they have their element. But it takes with it the results, the experiences. The task of man consists in filling his thought-germ with the honey that can be gathered in the three lower realms. Every train of thought can be such a gathering of honey. Thus, in man, the upper world argues with the lower world. This argument is threefold. The first takes place in the realm of desire. The desire is ensouled. The passions and desires take on an upward tendency. One can observe this tendency in people who have a leaning towards ideals. Their passions turn from passing, changing goals to lasting ideals. What takes place in them is only a shadow of a process that takes place in the purely spiritual, mental realm. Every time an ideal passion develops in a human being, their cosmos has received a jolt forward; an innocent thought-being has taken shape and body, has become in the true sense of the word. It has now become a link in the progressive development in the cosmos, whose power cannot disappear again. It can be taken up again by even higher realms; but its power does not fade in them. When the human being has gained the ability to carry the honey of the realm of desire upwards, he can descend to the actual realm of life. He now purifies the growth forces of his nature. In doing so, he reaches beyond himself as a personality. In a much more general sense than before, he now becomes a co-worker with the cosmos. Just as the plant, unlike the animal, does not desire or abhor anything for itself, but absorbs the substances of its environment in calm serenity in order to pass them on selflessly in growth and reproduction, so at this stage the human being makes himself a transitional being and a helper of the spiritual-cosmic forces of growth. A high level of human development has thus been reached. Man gives more than his body to higher powers than his desire could give. If he previously only hewed the stones to build the cosmic building, he is now working on the building plan itself. He has become a disciple (chela) of cosmic beings. He not only knows what is to be carried from the lower realms into the higher ones: he also knows how the details are to be fitted together. At this stage of development everything becomes clear, transparent and plastic. Space and time have not yet entirely lost their significance, but they have become mobile and their limiting and inhibiting power has dissolved. Now there is only one step left to be taken in the realm of thought. This step leads the various lines of force of the cosmos back to their centers. Man no longer learns only the plan; he learns the intentions of the whole structure. The basis, the framework of his cosmos is revealed to him. He now knows what holds and carries this cosmos of his. The level of mastery has been reached. A master being wills and acts out of the intentions of the cosmic system to which he belongs. These intentions are a great mystery to beings at lower levels of evolution; they are even a great mystery to disciples: the cosmic mysteries. Until now, all those who know something of such a world have often hinted at such degrees of development in isolated passages of their writings. These indications are subtle, but comprehensible to him who has an inkling of higher worlds. Read in Goethe: “In nature, not only the events, but above all the intentions are worthy of attention.”

Through his development, the human being increasingly shapes his will in the direction of the cosmic plan. As long as he only integrates the building blocks of the body of desire into this plan, it will not be able to depend on him for what he accomplishes. The plan of the whole hovers over him, and how he and his actions fit into this plan: he feels this as a commandment given from outside. He must submit to this law. This is how the idealistically minded person feels. To integrate his actions into the harmony of the whole is a sacred commandment for him: an ideal. What he accomplishes, he accomplishes out of duty. If he reaches the next higher level and thus becomes acquainted with the plan, then it becomes self-evident to him that he should proceed in a certain way in each individual case and not otherwise. He not only feels a commandment, a duty; he regards it as senseless to act differently. For it would awaken his disgust, which would arise if he did not act in the sense and direction of this plan. So with increasing knowledge, certainty grows in the behavior of the human being: He does what he is supposed to do out of inclination for the deed: He acts out of love. This is the way the disciple relates to his actions. However, this level must first be acquired. Anyone who believes that they are allowed to act out of love without the necessary level of knowledge will only act in the sense of their particular existence instead of in the sense and direction of their cosmos. And the interests of this particular existence do not necessarily have to coincide with the direction of the will of their cosmos. The right to act out of love must first be acquired through insight and wisdom. The Master reaches an even higher level in this respect as well. He fulfills the intentions of his Cosmos. He does not stand outside of these intentions, but within them. They are his. The idealist is driven by duty, the chela by love; he is driven by nothing, he only realizes his own nature in reality. The Master has arrived at acting out of freedom. It is quite erroneous to argue whether man is free or not. He is neither free nor unfree at any stage of development prior to the highest realm of thought; he is on the path of development toward freedom. Only the Master is completely free. Thus are the stages of man: that of the purification of the passions or that of the intuitive idealist, who forms the building blocks of the world of thought; that of recognizing the plan, working on this plan out of knowledge of it, or the stage of the disciple (Chelas); and finally, the realization of the intentions of the cosmos, the becoming one with the plan of this cosmos, or the stage of mastery. The idealist acts out of duty: he obeys a should. The disciple acts out of love, he realizes his will; the master acts in freedom, he lives out his essence.

Man rises to the Cosmos in insight and wisdom. This wisdom was originally in the Cosmos. Through knowledge, man comes to know the Cosmos, because the Cosmos is formed through knowledge. The knowledge laid in the Cosmos draws the human soul towards itself and becomes one with it. Therefore, everything the human soul does in this direction is a cosmic process. Man, at the lower and middle levels of his development, does not see it as cosmic because he does not see the process itself, but its shadow image, projection, as it can only be given by the brain consciousness. What appears to be taking place within the walls of the skull is not the real process. It is to this as the silhouettes on the wall are to the real people. In reality, the action that takes place there goes through the entire sphere of the world of thought and shakes the whole cosmos. When I move my hand, the eye sees a process of the physical realm in the hand movement. It appears directly in its true form. Even an emotion or passion no longer appears to a physical being in its true form, but in its effect, in its shadow image in the physical world. And this is even less the case with a process in which thought is involved. — Thus, what a person recognizes is limited by his or her respective stage of development, and accordingly, his or her will must also be determined in the same direction. In reality, the human being is always fully present. The original egg contains the whole human being, as formed within the sphere of thought. But this whole human being is only gradually revealed to himself. And he is basically only real to himself to the extent that he reveals himself. He acts out of the essence of his nature only to the extent that he has brought this essence into existence in the lower realms. This essence itself is as a force behind what is obvious to him. From the unknown, it shapes his activities. A being with senses for the higher forms of existence would be able to see what man can only recognize in his shadowy effects in the physical realm. Man thinks, but he does not see his thoughts; he feels, but he does not see his feelings. His consciousness encompasses only a part of his sphere of activity, which is the content of his being. Development proceeds in such a way that ever higher parts of this sphere of activity enter the field of consciousness. And with that, more and more is also done with consciousness; this changes the whole character of the activity. What a person accomplishes consciously is different from what goes on within him without him knowing how it is accomplished. His development thus consists in transforming the unconscious parts of his being into conscious ones. By attaining the higher degrees of consciousness, man also automatically attains the higher degrees in relation to his actions. Only those who unconsciously follow their desires are carried away by them to the wrong things: Those whose minds are awakened in the sphere of desire see what a feeling they harbor in this sphere can accomplish. It is only natural that they then shape their feelings accordingly. And to an even greater degree, this is the case with those who have become enlightened in the realm of thought. His cosmos becomes different for him than it is for the mere thinking person. Just as when someone steps out of a dark room, in which he constantly bumps into chairs and tables, into one brightly lit with intense light, so the life of the mere thinking person is transformed into that of the seeing-thinking person.

And with the awakening of the power of vision in the world of thought, all the essential influences that constantly surround man and of which he knows nothing without this power of vision, become manifest at the same time. To the uninitiated, the effects that flow to him from this sphere remain inexplicable because the causes are not apparent to him. The seer therefore speaks of the gods of the sphere of thought, of such entities that can only be perceived by him because they do not embody themselves down to the physical plane of existence; the outer shell they wear is a garment of thought, and this is related to them as man's physical body is related to man himself. Thus the seer understands the reason for what is often called the sudden appearance of a thought, an instantaneous enlightenment. At that moment a being from the sphere of thought whispers a truth to a person who is receptive to it. The person does not need to know more than that a certain thought has suddenly occurred: the seer sees behind the scenes of the cosmic stage and it is clear to him that a being floating in the sphere of thought is hovering around the person. The one who gains the ability to see into the world of thought enters a richly populated realm, a realm in which all physical experience is initially poor. However, it gains a new richness for the one who sees. For what he experiences in the higher sphere is woven into the physical one and infinitely elevates, beautifies and ennobles its existence. And contact with the beings of thought also reveals much about the physical and the world of desire, which must remain hidden within these themselves. Those who only know physical contact will naturally consider what is being spoken of here to be a figment of the imagination. From their point of view, they are right. He is only wrong in regarding his point of view as the only correct one and making no effort to reach a higher one. He will then also consider dealing with the thought beings to be a highly superfluous activity and talk about this contact to be something harmful that only distracts people from pursuing their real, practical goals.

Just as man's original egg derives its character from the realm of thought, so it also brings up the results of the three lower realms as their lasting legacy in the realm of thought. In this respect, everything that happens through man in the realm of thought is the cause of effects; and man has, so to speak, buried the fruits of his activity in the three realms in the realm of thought, his home. Only that which remains for the individual egg body as the fruit of its pilgrimage through the spheres of physical, life and desire can truly be the result of human development. This egg body is the permanent element in the changing phenomena that pass by the human being: but it is also the keeper of the lasting results: the carrier of all fruits. But only that which can really take on a lasting character is imprinted on this body. That which has only a temporary value dissipates as a wave in the physical or desire realm without leaving a trace in the lasting. For example, consider the development of a person at a fairly subordinate level. Such a person follows his desires and passions according to the strengths and characteristics they have. Only after a long period of time do thoughts arise from these desires and passions that are worth keeping. Thus, the thought core slowly forms within the various shells. When a person has reached the end of a lifetime, he will find himself in the following situation. The physical body is no longer able to maintain the cohesion of its parts through its own powers. It decays. This means nothing other than He steps out of the current in which he was absorbed by the human being and passes into the general physical realm. The parts of life and desire are equally temporary. They too must find the transition to the spheres to which they belong. Ultimately, however, something of the human being remains: the experiences, fruits, and results from the three realms during life, embedded in his original individual egg body. The cohesion of these results can no longer be destroyed. It is a link in the realm of thought of the cosmos to which the human being belonged. Is his task now exhausted and will he now have his entire continued existence in this realm of thought? One could believe this if the contemplation of the cosmos did not immediately reveal this further task. Within this cosmos, we see the permanent body continuing to evolve and descending again and again into the lower realms. The results of a previous life are increased, enriched and strengthened in subsequent lives. Human personalities with the most diverse degrees of development live on earth. This could not be the case if a single original, individual egg of a similar nature were embodied in each personality. But such would have to embody itself if the embodied one came directly from the pure realm of thought. The original thought-germ does not release from itself different perfections, but only equally perfect, i.e. innocent, original individuals. All diversity stems from the diversity of experiences during the passage through the three realms. If one wants to search for the reasons why a person has this or that disposition, one must not look for these reasons in the lofty realms of the realm of thought, but in life within the lower three realms. One personality becomes different from another because the individual bodies descending into the lower realms belong to different degrees of development, i.e., because they already have different life experiences. A life is therefore not explainable from itself. It only becomes comprehensible when it is understood as a repetition of other lives belonging to it. This law of repetition is found throughout nature. And just as it is found in the human kingdom, it is only a repetition of a law also present in the plant and animal kingdoms at a higher level.

Man advances further on his path of development by increasingly determining the goal and direction of his being himself. In the early stages, nature guides man according to its principles. The more the element of thought develops, the more man's self-activity also grows. For his original being is taken from the realm of thought. The more this moves in the realm from which it itself originates, the freer and more unveiled it becomes itself. Now, progress on this path to freedom involves working on certain qualities in the human being. The human being who reaches the stage where he develops his element of thinking more and more as a permanent element has certain qualities that must undergo a complete transformation if he is to achieve higher development. —

The first quality to be developed is determined by the very nature of higher development. This is a continuous ascent of life from the changing and the fleeting to the abiding and the lasting. The cognitive faculty must thereby acquire, to an ever-higher degree, the ability to recognize the lasting in the changing, to draw the fruits from the fleeting in order to carry them forward into the realm of the spirit. Every moment of life and every random thing can be used to develop this quality. For there are exactly two things to be distinguished in every thing: something fleeting and something lasting. We do not need to distinguish between the two as if there were a fixed boundary between them. That is not the case. Rather, they merge into one another without such a fixed boundary. The fleeting is more or less fleeting; the lasting is more or less lasting. Nor can one speak of the lasting as of something “eternal”. Eternal is the last thing to which one can arrive; what is below this “eternal” lasts longer than many a changing thing in the stream of time. But in the end, even the stream of time falls under such permanence and allows only its fruits to enter as links into a still higher, still more enduring realm. By developing this sense for the permanent, man's whole character is changed. And consequently, he seeks to overcome the changing, the temporary, everywhere. His striving takes the direction of the conceptual. What previously seemed particularly full of life and desirable becomes worthless to him, and what previously seemed empty and abstract gains meaningful life. If he previously only wanted the thought in order to get to know an external thing through it, now the external thing is nothing more than the cause of this or that thought. He seeks the thoughts for their own sake, and everything else for the sake of the thoughts. Whoever attains this perfection in his cognitive faculty will, as a result, change his emotional world all by himself. He can no longer attach his feelings to the transitory, since the lasting opens up to him everywhere. The change that takes place in a person as this second character trait develops in him can be seen in a transition of his entire being from small to large lines. He will give his actions a typical character, a certain lawful imprint. There will be constant currents of his will running through the small tasks of the day. More and more, a person who acquires these two basic traits, the ability to distinguish and character type, will distance himself from the passing interests that hold others captive. Something significant, weighty and fruitful takes possession of his thoughts and actions. Through the content of his thoughts and the motives of his actions, he himself becomes a significant link in the realm of thoughts. Once there, in order to develop further, man must cultivate certain further qualities. The realm of thoughts does not bear the one-sided, rigid, immovable basic trait that the physical and the realm of desires also have. Everything in the realm of thoughts is all-encompassing. A tree is by itself a single entity. In this sense, a thought is not by itself. It is connected with other thoughts and ultimately forms a link in the whole world of thoughts in such a way that it can only be fully understood if one understands the whole world of thoughts. The life in thoughts requires that one is aware that a thought must be illuminated by the other. “I am free” is a thought. In a certain sense, it applies to the ego. But the sentence “I am unfree” also applies. Only if one grasps both sentences and illuminates them with each other does one obtain the life that they determine in the world of thought. It should [manuscript breaks off]

Anthroposophical Spiritual Science, its Value for the Human Being and its Relationship to Art and Religion

Dear attendees,Yesterday I took the liberty of speaking during the lecture about one of the most recent critics of the anthroposophical world view, about the book by the licentiate of theology Kurt Leese, who, as I said yesterday, strangely enough, speaks about anthroposophy from beginning to end, but explicitly says that he retains the term “theosophy” in order to accommodate the general consciousness, but that he always means Rudolf Steiner's anthroposophical direction.

Now, today, I would like to start with something that, to a certain extent, is one of the results of Kurt Leese's investigations into anthroposophy. After this man, who, as I also remarked yesterday, has read pretty much everything of mine that has been published, after he has illuminated anthroposophy and what belongs to it from his point of view, he comes to record a strange sentence on one of the last pages of his book. I will read this sentence first:

What is all the talk about the worship of knowledge, about the riddles of life and their solutions, what is all the soaring of knowledge into primeval depths and primeval heights, if the Theosophist...

— that is, the anthroposophist —

... is unable to say why it is better to be an ego than a non-ego, and why, then, seven world ages are so important for the becoming and the perfection of this ego!?

Now one could initially believe that the man means that only the anthroposophist does not know how to say why it is better to be an ego than a non-ego, but actually it is clear from the following that he means something completely different, that he actually believes that no one can somehow figure out why it is better to be an ego than a non-ego. Because he goes on to say:

In the face of such mysteries of the world and life, even the theosophist...

- that is, the anthroposophist —

... nothing more than a positivist who no longer explains, fathoms, solves, but who accepts the ethical-individualistic fate of Western-Christian cultural development as a matter of course that can no longer be justified because he simply cannot escape it.

This, ladies and gentlemen, actually means nothing less than the following: No one really knows how to say anything about the great question of life: Why is it not just as good to be a non-I as an I? And since the author of this book obviously concedes that one should simply take it for granted that one is an I, without brooding over it, he thinks that anthroposophy has nothing to say about it either.

Now, let us recall some of what emerged from what was said yesterday, and then allow me to add, in more of a lecture format, some of what you can find in the already extensive literature on anthroposophy.

As a human being grows up, emerging from unconsciousness into ever greater consciousness, awakening, as it were, from childlike slumber and dreams to a more conscious life, he feels confronted by the world. It is fair to say that this confrontation with the world is initially one that presents a truly human mind, a humanly spiritualized mind, with riddles, the solutions to which must be sought from within. As the human being grows up, the riddles of the world itself are revealed to him. At first, he feels, one may say, in a very vague way, as an ego. He feels, so to speak, this I as an inner point of life, to which everything he can experience flows, from which he also knows that everything he can do flows out. But he comes to realize, and he must gradually come to realize, that this is precisely the great question of life: How does this I relate to the whole environment that presents us with such a vast number of life and world riddles? This question, “How does the I relate to the whole human environment?” basically contains everything else that is there in the way of life and world riddles.

Now one can say that in a certain way, something of the relationship between the I and the environment is already evident in ordinary existence, in that this I grows together with the environment in a certain way. We develop from childhood on, which does not just show itself at some later age in the form of us awakening to full self-awareness, but we develop, above all, our inner life through memory, which was characterized in its significance yesterday, that connects our experiences, that allows our life to appear to us as a whole when we look back to the point in time up to which we can remember. We can say that by holding still and looking back on our lives, we feel our selves connected to all our experiences. We have gone through these experiences, we have taken them into our ideas, into our thoughts, we have experienced joy and suffering through them, we have experienced happiness and pain through them, we have been inspired to do this or that in our actions, which then flowed out of our strength into the strength of life. But when we stand still and look back, we also feel connected to what our experiences were in this form, and we cannot say that there is a moment in our lives when we are not fundamentally what we have been left with in our memories of our experiences, of the suffering and joy that we experienced in these experiences, the happiness and pain that we experienced in these experiences, the satisfaction or dissatisfaction that came to us from the fact that we were able to accomplish this or that from these experiences. We are what we have experienced. It becomes pathological when this thread of thought of memory breaks somewhere in a person. In medical literature, cases are well described where such pathological conditions occur, where a person's coherent awareness of memory for this or that breaks down and he feels, as it were, hollowed out, no longer able to fully experience his being.

You see, here life presents itself to us first as an expansion of our ego over that which our existence has brought us since our birth; life presents itself as an inward growing together of our ego with that which has come to us. Yesterday I showed how the human being awakens his supersensible nature by unfolding that which can be developed in him beyond the ordinary powers of knowledge and perception into the supersensible worlds, and thereby comes to an even broader overview of the world. And yesterday I was able to hint at some of the results of the anthroposophical world view. I was able to say that by rising to imaginative knowledge, the human being first comes to perceive his life not only towards birth as a sea from which individual memories emerge, but as a life panorama, as a large tableau, so that he can see the lasting in this earthly life. But I was also able to point out how, through a further development of the supersensible faculty of knowledge, man comes to the contemplation of that which goes beyond birth and death, that which is eternal in him, that which thus connects him with a world that is more comprehensive than that which he can experience between birth and death. And I then showed how this knowledge can continue to ascend to the contemplation of repeated earthly lives. There we have already seen how this I now grows beyond the ordinary contemplation of the I, how the I, which otherwise feels connected in ordinary life with the life events flowing to it, how this I expands its consciousness to include a broader world.

If you now add to what I was able to hint at yesterday the anthroposophical literature, you will see that by developing this cognitive faculty it is also possible to grasp the connection of the I with the whole rest of the cosmos. One may scoff at what Anthroposophy has to say about worlds and world transformations, as indicated, for example, in my “Occult Science”, but only someone who cannot put himself in the method by which such things are found can actually scoff. The essential point of today's reflection, however, is that anthroposophy finds nothing in the cosmos but what is connected with the nature of the I. The essential point is that anthroposophy teaches us to look at the whole cosmos, to see the whole cosmos in such a way that the I is connected in some way with everything in this cosmos, with this whole macrocosm as a microcosm, in the same way that in ordinary life the I is connected with its experiences. One is tempted to say that anthroposophy succeeds in expanding what is otherwise only a 'small' memory in our experiences into a world memory, into a world overview. Thus, through anthroposophical knowledge, we feel expanded, standing within the whole universe, the whole cosmos, we feel the I in its consciousness expanded beyond this cosmos, we feel this cosmos itself as spiritual and the I spiritually connected to this spiritual cosmos.

Those who cannot feel how such an expansion of consciousness affects what a person can actually long for in the world cannot judge the value of anthroposophical world knowledge for the human being either. What Anthroposophy can give, and what these ideas can then be for the perception of the world soul, for the longings of the human soul, must be inwardly experienced by each individual. And this can be experienced in such a way that it is felt as the solution to precisely this fundamental riddle: How does the I, which initially exists only vaguely like a point within us, how does this I relate to the world as a whole? How does that which we ourselves are for our consciousness confront us from the entire world?

The fact that, as this line of inquiry shows, no one can really say why it is better to be an I than a not-I, is answered by showing that such a question is not really posed correctly. What we want is not to answer this question from some abstract point of view, but what we really want is something that belongs directly to life, to growth, to the whole development of the human being. One could just as well ask: Why does a child want to become a great person, an adult? It becomes an adult. But it is not self-evident that one becomes an adult; rather, one must develop that which belongs to the adult. The child has consciousness within it, as it were, asleep; the adult expands consciousness over himself. The person who awakens to consciousness expands consciousness, this I, throughout the spiritual cosmos. In this way, the human being grows into the world in a way that is in keeping with nature. For his feeling, this gives rise to the question of the value of the I, because this value of the I is felt in relation to the value of the world. And anyone who does not want to know about what is far removed from the world and about world development will never be able to develop a true feeling for his ego, because this ego is rich within; it emerges from the whole content of the world. And only if one has a feeling for what is far removed from the world and for world development can one also feel from these what the ego has as its deepest longings. But one must have an inwardly fresh and courageous mind in order not to find it too uncomfortable, so to speak, to send one's mind into world distances and into world developments, so that one can have the rich, inward perception of the I and thus also of the value of the I. And it is a remarkable question that Leese asks: Why are seven world ages necessary to develop this I? If you look at the development of these seven world epochs, you will find everywhere how they contain forces that are connected with the development of human egos. You will find that you are grasped by the world, you feel, you grasp, you also find the forces for your actions from what will arise from the consciousness of your connection with the cosmos.

My dear audience, it is very strange when people judge everything that is to be recognized through anthroposophy, as they must judge it according to what they already have, when they do not engage with it, and then, having basically understood nothing of anthroposophy, say: Yes, what is it worth? What does it explain to you? What is not understood does not explain anything, but that is the fault of those who do not want to understand. But those who are open to what the anthroposophical worldview can be, who enter into the far reaches and the vast expanses of the world with their soul and their spirit, will find a complete answer. In the course of these contemplations, he finds a full answer to the riddle of the value of the human ego, for the whole world answers him. But nothing but the whole world is suitable to answer the question about the value of the I, and anyone who does not want this answer from the whole world will always come to a speech like this critic of anthroposophy, who says: What use can all this be to us, since it does not decide the question of why it is better to be an I than a non-I. But what is expressed here with a certain generality is then expressed in detail when such critics as Leese approach the specific tasks of anthroposophical science. For example, within anthroposophical science it must be said that when the human being observes that which, as it were, holds together as a reality, that which appears in thoughts, feelings and will impulses, anthroposophy speaks of the the carrier of thoughts, feelings and impulses of the will, regardless of whether or not it calls this carrier of the soul the astral body - as I said, words are not important, no special value need be placed on them. Now the same critic, the licentiate Kurt Leese, comes along and says: Why is it necessary, when one is already observing and describing the soul, the thoughts, the feelings, the impulses of the will, why is it necessary to assume a special vehicle?

Now, at this point, the complete inability of the approach that leads out of ordinary life into the truly supersensible life of the soul to follow what is going on becomes apparent. First of all, taken in the abstract, it can seem rather superfluous whether I stop at describing the life of thoughts, feelings and will, or whether I also speak of a vehicle. But one never comes to a real essential insight into what lives in the soul if one does not pass from what merely appears as thought, feeling, will, to the carrier. For, my dear audience, as I was able to show yesterday, when the soul becomes aware of its supersensible abilities, it becomes aware of what it is in those times when it is otherwise in an unconscious state between falling asleep and waking up. And the one who becomes a spiritual researcher experiences how this soul relates to the bodily life just as it otherwise relates during sleep, except that now it is not unconscious but conscious. Thoughts, feelings and will can only be observed during waking life; from falling asleep to waking up, no one can observe this except as after-images, often distorted images of the imaginative life in dreams; no one can observe what is of the soul without the spiritual-scientific. One comes to the reality of the soul precisely by observing the soul in the states where it stands out from ordinary thinking, feeling and willing. If one remains within the ordinary thinking, feeling and willing, one does not grasp the essence of the soul. What then is meant when the anthroposophist says that one passes from imagining, feeling and willing to a “medium”? It means that the anthroposophist wants to suggest that we free ourselves from what never sheds light on the nature of the soul, that we should make an effort to grasp what life of the soul is.

And so it shows here what I mentioned yesterday, when such a critic says as a result: Anthroposophy is actually annoying and ill-tempered. He finds it annoying and ill-tempered because it makes a certain demand of him at every moment. He is supposed to go beyond what he has in his thinking and soul habits of ordinary life – he does not like that, he perceives it as an unreasonable demand that should not be made of him. And so he says: Why are you talking to me about a 'vehicle'? If he were to make this effort and speak of this vehicle, then he would find the way into the spiritual world.

You see, what at first appears to be mere mental games — something like the combination of thinking, feeling and willing in the bearer of this thinking, feeling and willing — is something that wants to achieve something real, that wants to provide an impetus for the development of the higher abilities of human nature, through which the essence of the human being is recognized. Thus, even what appears to be a mere intellectual game in the anthroposophical world view is actually meant as something very real for the value of human life. But another passage from this same book shows even more what the value of anthroposophical world view for the present and future life of science is to consist of; I will speak first of the life of world view and science.

In the appendix to my book Von Seelenrätseln (Mysteries of the Soul), I pointed out that for several years I have been speaking about how the human soul is actually connected to the human body. I have pointed out that it can really be seen that our thinking, our feeling and our willing are connected with three different aspects of the human being: that our thinking is connected with the actual nervous activity, but that what we develop as feeling is not is not directly but only indirectly connected with this nervous activity, what we develop as feeling is directly connected with the rhythmic activity, especially with the rhythmic activity in breathing and blood circulation, but that our will activity is connected with the metabolism. I only mention this here in a reporting way. I stated in my book “Mysteries of the Soul” that I had only been studying this subject for thirty years before I dared to publicly express the results of my research. It is commonly believed that the entire life of the soul is connected with the nervous system. The new aspect of this view is precisely that in reality the three aspects of the life of the soul are connected with three different activities of the human organization. Now, however, I was obliged to set something apart in this presentation that is completely foreign to today's habits of thought. In order for me to make myself understood about what is actually meant here, I would like to preface the following.

You see, today, especially in the field of philosophy, one often has a very negative judgment about what is presented in the development of spiritual life as medieval scholasticism. Despite the fact that anthroposophy and my own personality are attacked in the most nonsensical way by certain church authorities, this cannot prevent me from saying what can be said about a certain field, purely objectively, even if this field is linked, or at least seems to be linked today, to current church life. Those who are able to really delve into the blossoming of medieval scholasticism, namely the heyday of this scholasticism, the time of Albertus Magnus, of Thomas Aquinas, know that this scholasticism - it is so little recognized today - that this scholasticism has one thing that basically made it greater than any period in the development of human thought to date. It developed in those who belonged to it a gift for subtle thought development, for the finest dissection of thought. And this gift, which was developed in the 12th, 13th and 14th centuries, as an ability for the finest development of thought, would be very useful to us today, especially in the pursuit of science. For if, for example, a philosopher like Wundt had had a real inner understanding of the fine distinctions of scholasticism, his investigations would have produced different results from those which they have produced. For only a thinking that really has the will to enter into the finest distinctions, only such thinking can also delve into the foundations of reality, for this reality is complicated, and with a rough thinking one does not enter into reality. When one has to throw light on one or other of these subjects from the standpoint of spiritual science, one is obliged to arrive at such fine distinctions of thought.

And so I was obliged to say in my book “Von Seelenrätseln” (Soul Mysteries) in order to characterize what underlies the threefold human being, the nerve-sense human being, the human being with the rhythmic organization, the human being with the metabolic organization: One cannot get along with this threefold human being if one imagines, for example, that these three parts are arranged spatially next to each other, the head at the top, the circulation human being in the middle, and then the metabolism human being at the bottom. I have shown how even in the nerve there is rhythm and metabolism, but that in the case of the activity of imagination in the nerve, rhythm and metabolism are not taken into account, but another activity, whereas in the case of the activity of feeling or of the activity of the will, rhythm and metabolism in the nerve are also taken into account. I had to make the subtle distinction that what one has to highlight, so to speak, in order to understand the human being, one sees interwoven in outer reality. A man like Kurt Leese reads through this and finds it to be a tour de force of thinking. And precisely because he finds it to be a tour de force of thinking, he says: It is precisely at such a point that anthroposophy becomes annoying and intolerable.

Now, ladies and gentlemen, the value of the anthroposophical world view will consist precisely in the fact that it cultivates not only clear but also highly discriminating thinking, thinking that reaches into the finest structures of reality. People do not want that; they become angry and ill-tempered, and that is why they say: Anthroposophy is annoying and unpleasant. But precisely this training of thinking to follow reality, which carries the finest distinctions and which cannot be followed with such coarse thinking as is so beloved in the present day, will be the value of the anthroposophical worldview for modern science and thus for modern man.

What should be cultivated through the anthroposophical worldview – and with this I will find the transition from what comes from anthroposophy for the value of the human being in an intellectual relationship, in a purely scientific respect — that which should be cultivated through the anthroposophical world view, that which really comes to the soul's eye through this anthroposophical world view: that is the transition to the moral. As the I expands more and more in its awareness of the content of the world, as the I feels itself as a member of the cosmos, having grown out of this cosmos, it feels its great responsibility within its world existence. The self knows that the thoughts and feelings that develop within it are part of the entire, immeasurable cosmos; the self learns to be responsible for what goes on within it by recognizing itself as having been born out of the entire cosmos. When one feels this responsibility towards the whole world, then one stops carelessly speaking over what the world is supposed to explain.

Such careless talk comes to mind when a critic like Kurt Leese, for example, says that anthroposophy tries to understand the world as developing, but that it does not take what he now understands by development - and he understands this to mean only the emergence of the later from the earlier — but that it is said of anthroposophy: in the course of development, in addition to what is the emergence of the later from the earlier, there is an inflow of something that comes from a completely different side. To his horror, says Kurt Leese, I would even talk about entities that develop in certain world ages being inoculated, and he particularly criticizes the fact that I say in The Education of the Child that the etheric body of the human being is born at the age of seven, just as the physical body of the human being is born at the time of physical birth. That is not development, he says, because it does not show that the etheric body develops out of the physical body.

Ladies and gentlemen, consider what is actually at issue here. Someone comes along and makes an abstract concept of development – the following must arise from the earlier -, he criticizes that I would not show how the etheric body arises from the physical body. But the etheric body does not do that, it does not arise from the physical body at all! If the person in question were to understand what is being presented, he would realize that the process is much more complicated in the development at hand. But when I now speak of the moral, I must nevertheless point out that for the real natural scientist of today, the development is by no means as simple as Mr. Leese now imagines.

You only need to read the first pages of Oscar Hertwig's book, which is truly leading in this respect, about a correction of Darwin's theory of descent, and you will see that Oscar Hertwig is obliged to include the concepts of natural science: firstly, evolution, the emergence of the later from the earlier; secondly, panspermia, that is, the coming into effect of that which is in space alongside the organism; and thirdly, epigenesis, that is, the emergence of completely new effects. Thus the concept of development in science today is such that it is constantly developing, that is, it itself is in a living development. What appears in anthroposophy as the idea of development is precisely what most conscientiously takes into account the idea of development in science. And people who come from such a side to criticize have simply not gone along with scientific development, but have only taken a few scraps out of it and criticize from these scraps. And they then call what is working with the full science “unscientific” because it does not agree with their prejudiced assumptions, which, however, do not coincide with the full science. In this respect, anthroposophy will have a great educational effect on a person's inner conscience and lack of prejudice. It will release forces in people that are particularly lacking in people today. Therefore, this spiritual-scientific worldview can find the courage to intervene directly in practical life, because it wants to develop a way of thinking and a whole human behavior that can be immersed in practical life.

We wanted to show this in the most diverse fields, for example in the field of education, in the Waldorf School in Stuttgart, which was founded by Emil Molt and established by me. It has existed for more than a year. In this Waldorf School in Stuttgart, it is shown how the anthroposophical worldview wants to have a practical effect on pedagogy and didactics. This Waldorf School is truly not about raising children in anthroposophy – the Waldorf School does not want to be a school of a particular worldview – but rather about the fact that anthroposophical spiritual science, because it is directly immersed in reality, can be pedagogically skillfully applied so that the pedagogical as such is created by spiritual science in a certain way as a pedagogical-didactic art. And in this respect, without wishing to boast, the first school year at this Waldorf School has already achieved something that can be talked about. Above all, we do not have the usual system of reporting at the Waldorf School. In some classes we had quite a large number of pupils last year, but nevertheless we do not need the strange relationship between teachers and pupils that arises from the fact that the teacher wants to find out, let's say, among twenty, thirty, fifty pupils, whether one or the other deserves an “almost sufficient”, “half almost satisfactory” and the like in this or that subject. We were able to avoid all of this, which was reduced to an abstract scheme. Instead, I would like to emphasize this: at the end of the previous school year, we were able to give each child a report card in which the child found something very remarkable: a life saying that was completely and utterly felt for the child's soul, spirit, and physical organization. Even in classes with fifty or more pupils, teachers were able to find a way of penetrating and immersing themselves in the individuality of the pupils so that they could write a core saying of life in the report that was completely individual and appropriate for the individual child. This report should not be a dead piece of paper on which one assesses this or that individual with “almost satisfactory”, but it should be something that the child remembers with a certain strength because it contains something that, when it works in his soul, can become life in him. I just wanted to emphasize this point. I could also speak of much that has been attempted, especially in practical application of anthroposophical spiritual science in the didactics of this Waldorf school.

Now, I have often mentioned here how anthroposophical spiritual science at a certain point in time found itself compelled to draw the social consequences from what emerges from its practical thinking. These social conclusions were first drawn in my book 'The Core Points of the Social Question'. They are now being drawn for practical institutions. People today complain a lot about these practical institutions because they have no idea how the apparent practice, which lives in a world of illusions, has led precisely into today's crisis, and how a real practice of life must flow out of a renewal of all thinking. It could actually be amusing if it were not distressing on the other hand, when today the schoolmasters of practice come and remind us that you cannot manage with idealism and belief in the future. They do not know that this economic activity is really not about idealism and faith in the future, but about direct practical intervention with a way of thinking that is more practical than that which the last decades have been able to produce. Through that which, in connection with real life, brings about a life-based grasp of this reality, it will be practically confirmed what Anthroposophy is, because reality is spirit through and through. And if we want to master reality in practice, we must connect with the spirit of that reality. We will succumb to illusions if we do not want to immerse ourselves in the spirit of reality. Therefore, anthroposophy will have to reveal itself in its value for people by making the spirit effective in practical life.

But the central question of life – and it is this that makes anthroposophy particularly relevant to human life – is the big question: how are the moral impulses of the human being, how is what the human being builds up inwardly in the moral world connected to the world of external reality? Let us look at what modern world view has produced: a universe conceived in such a way that at the origin there is a planetary nebula from which suns and planets have formed through circular motion. In the course of time, I would say purely mechanical events arose from this, agglomerations, which then developed into the human being, into the impulse of morality in the human being, which is felt by the human soul as the most valuable thing. But then our gaze is directed to the physical end of the world, when, as it were, what has come together sinks back into a frozen state, when a world grave will stand, and what man has developed within himself in his valuable moral ideals will be buried in this world grave.

One need only visualize this image to see how this modern world view has been unable to bring about harmony between what man feels to be most valuable within himself, his morality, and what surrounds him in the external world and what he seeks to understand in a mechanical-materialistic way. We have only to look back at what I was able to say yesterday, even if only in the most general terms, to see how anthroposophy builds a bridge between what is spread out in space and the world of morality within. There we grasp ourselves first on earth, so that we learn to recognize ourselves in the course of our awakening as the physical-sensual human being, born out of the physical-sensual universe; within us we unfold our supersensible will. Yesterday I showed how this supersensible will contains precisely that which is not accessible to ordinary sense perception, which only becomes accessible when the soul frees itself from the body and experiences the will outside the body. In this will we have something that is thoroughly spiritual. But at the same time this will contains as a power that which constitutes our moral will, our moral feeling, our moral ideal and which remains in the future. We know that in this future our own existence develops in such a way that our body falls away from us, that the elements of this physical body initially disperse into the physical world, but that, as I indicated yesterday, what is contained only as spiritual desire in the will passes through the time that lies between death and a new birth; this builds a new physical body in the future. We see into the future and see our physical body arising again, but out of the spiritual.

If you then turn to the rest of the anthroposophical literature, you will find that this also applies to the worlds. We look at the external worlds, we see light and color in them, we hear sounds in the external world, we hear a whole range of sounds in the external world; we see the three realms of nature. We look at the past in spirit, we see spiritual beings in the past in spirit. We know that what is physical here now has been formed out of spirit. But this physical of the present, this present beauty of the earth, carries spiritual in its lap, and when it will once have solidified as physical, then the spiritual will emerge from it. But the spiritual now only exists in that which is volitional. Future worlds will be built from present morality, just as the present physical world is built from the moral forces of past beings. We see that which shines towards us as stars, that which appears to us as the sun, as the results of that which was once moral. We see in what is moral now the germ of what will shine as worlds in the future, what will appear as worlds to the beings that will inhabit these worlds in the future. By looking at the moral with the insights that only arise when one develops the supersensible powers of the soul, a bridge is built between the moral and the physical. This bridge cannot be built if we look at the world only through the lens of today's natural science: in that case, the world falls apart into the world of mechanical-materialistic events and the world of morality, which then dissolves into illusions, whereas in the anthroposophical worldview, the moral contains the germ of the cosmic, and in this way that which we can call responsibility grows. We know that the outcome of our moral deeds and impulses is not due to some arbitrary assessment of guilt, but is rooted in the laws of the world themselves. And if we look at the starry worlds that affect our eyes, we recognize in them the physical consequence of moral impulses from the distant past. We feel that we are not only in a physical world with moral illusions, we feel that we are in a world of physical and moral realities, where the physical is the metamorphosis of the moral, and the moral is the metamorphosis of the physical.

This, esteemed attendees, gives strength to the human being by steeling his sense of responsibility by placing him with his ego in the whole world. Thus, by opening our view into the spiritual and by showing the physical in connection with the moral in relation to the spiritual, this anthroposophical spiritual science can meet the deepest needs of the present day in the field of art. Anthroposophical spiritual science wanted to achieve this in the field of art, as far as possible at the beginning of its existence. In my four mystery plays, entitled 'The Portal of Initiation', 'The Soul's Trial', 'The Guardian of the Threshold' and 'The Awakening of the Soul', I myself have tried to show how one can artistically embody, from a spiritual-scientific world view, what arises from supersensible observation. And in our Goetheanum outside, everything that this Goetheanum presents - in terms of its external architecture, in terms of its sculptural and painterly design - is shaped from this spiritual-scientific perspective.

Do we not see in the artistic development of the last generations how art longs for new impulses? Today, we need only look back to the time of Leonardo, Michelangelo and Dürer to see how that ancient conception of art, which strove upwards out of the physical-sensual, had indeed developed to the greatest heights, to depict the physical-sensual in such a way that the physical-sensual reveals the spiritual. One need only think of how human figures are first depicted in the Sistine Madonna, surrounded by the natural world, but how the spirit that embodied this image conjures up spiritual secrets from what it could see with its senses, and how it elevates the sensual so that this sensuality can reveal spiritual secrets to man.

In an age of scientific thinking and scientific research, we have ceased to have the intuitive perceptions that a Raphael or a Michelangelo had, in that they conjured up from the sensual-physical reality that which appeared like a reflection of the spiritual from this physical-sensual reality. Thus we see that in the naturalistic age, art also wanted to become naturalistic. But what is naturalistic art supposed to achieve if it does not unconsciously contain some idealistic factor? Do we still need to somehow transfer what nature presents to us outside onto the canvas or otherwise embody it, for example in drama? Can we really depict the secrets that nature holds in a naturalistic way? No, we cannot. Anyone who has traveled throughout Italy and been exposed to even the most beautiful and greatest works of art and then comes from Italy, let's say, to the top of the Rigi and watches a sunrise, knows immediately that what speaks out of nature is greater than what any painter, any sculptor, any artist could gain from nature. Only when artists, like Raphael, Michelangelo and Leonardo, could not stop at nature, but conjure up the spiritual from the physical and sensual, is this artistic endeavor justified. But precisely those artists who are perhaps to be taken most seriously in the present have within them the deepest yearning for a new source of art. They feel that the impulse has been exhausted, which consisted of conjuring up the spiritual out of the physical-sensual. When we look back to ancient times of human cultural development - wherever the human gaze looked, it saw the spiritual in natural things, the nymph of the spring in the spring, the spirits of the air in the air. Thus it is a final, I would say a certain human ascent, when now the artists have conjured up a spiritual out of the physical-sensual existence.

Today we stand at a point in the development of the world where the longings of the most serious artistic natures of the present point to the fact that new sources must be opened for the artistic. And so the opposite must enter into the development of human civilization today. The old artists have demystified the spiritual from the physical-sensuous. The spiritual must be revealed by looking at the spiritual world, as anthroposophical spiritual science intends. But just as the artist, if he has artistic feeling, is compelled to reveal the spiritual in the physical-sensuous, so the man who beholds the spiritual has, if he has artistic feeling, the direct, naive need to shape the spiritual into forms, to translate the spiritual into material. The old school of art idealized the sensual; the new school of art will realize the spiritual. This will not be a creation in symbolism. Those who find only one single symbol in it are slandering the Dornach building. There is no symbol in it, but what is directly contemplated is poured out into forms. Everything should work in artistic forms. Those who speak of the symbolism of the Dornach building only show by doing so that they have not really grasped the characteristic style expressed in the way the whole artistic aspect of this building is managed. They have not seen have seen how the artistic spirit of nature herself was sought to be joined with the creative spirit of nature herself in the artistic work of this Dornach building, and then to express oneself artistically in forms towards which this spirit strives.

What was idealizing in the development of art in ancient times will be realizing when it is based on such a spiritual view as is meant by the anthroposophical world view. And this artistry will be naive in the best Goethean sense. As the spiritual researcher looks into the universe, he senses the secrets of existence, and he deeply feels what Goethe expressed from his artistic vision: “When nature begins to reveal her manifest secrets to someone, that person feels a deep longing for her most worthy revelator, art. He to whom the world reveals its secrets in the mind cannot leave these secrets in the mind as they are, just as a child cannot remain at the age of three or five; it must grow older. What is seen in the spirit wants to take shape. What art creates out of spiritual vision is not didactic, it is not symbolic, it is not in straw-like allegories, it is a real standing within life. And this standing within the spirit brings the human ego together with the whole cosmos. Today I have pointed out how those forces in man that lead to his actual human existence are feelings of responsibility towards the world, I could also say feelings of responsibility towards social existence. And I could list many other ways in which these feelings are aroused, by developing those ideas that initially lead the human being into worlds far away and worlds wide, that present him with all the development that the world must undergo in order to reach the summit, the summit of the self. Those who take such ideas into themselves, by incorporating them into their souls, do not merely absorb cold ideas; they take in something that seizes the feeling and the will, something that warms the feeling with that which flows out of the immeasurable greatness of the world. From these ideas, they take what each individual action that they perform places under the responsibility of the world's wisdom-filled guidance. Summarizing all this, one can only say: religious sentiment flows from what is handed down in anthroposophical spiritual science as images, as ideas, from all of this.

From the outset, spiritual science did not want to be something that would stand alongside any religion as a modern religion, especially not alongside Christianity. From the very beginning, it was asserted within anthroposophically oriented spiritual science that Christianity is the religion that encompasses all others, and that for anthroposophy it is important to explain the mystery of Golgotha in the sense in which it is necessary for modern humanity. But through Anthroposophy nothing religious should be placed beside it, other than what is the meaning of the earth itself, coming from the Mystery of Golgotha. Only those who, in a spiritually tyrannical way, want the world-wide mystery of Golgotha to be interpreted in only one sense - namely, their own - can defame anthroposophically oriented spiritual science as something that would be detrimental to Christianity.

But is it not necessary, my dear attendees, that although not in the essence of the mystery of Golgotha, new elements are included in the understanding of Christianity? One looks at the way in which the knowledge and the realization of this Christianity has developed in the course of the 19th century. One need only look back to earlier centuries. Those who can look at history not only in the abstract, but also with feeling, know that Christ Jesus was regarded as something that poured out of higher, supersensible worlds into the physical, sensual world. A connection between the spiritual world and the physical world has been established through the mystery of Golgotha. In older times, this mystery of Golgotha was understood according to the cognitive abilities of those older times. But as the modern age dawned, with its scientific advances, the old understanding gradually became impossible for those who conscientiously want to take the progress of humanity seriously. And so we have witnessed the strange spectacle of precisely the most advanced theologians of the 19th century having lost the Christ as a supersensible being and having arrived at the mere description of the simple man from Nazareth; because of naturalistic thinking, they could not see the Christ in Jesus. For the most modern theology, Jesus became an outstanding human being, perhaps the most outstanding, but that something took place in Jesus through Christ that cannot be grasped merely with the senses has been shown in the entire theological development of the modern age. We need a path back to spiritual science in order to spiritually comprehend the Mystery of Golgotha and the Christ-secret.

What natural science has taken from Christianity for those who conscientiously want to take in this natural science, spiritual science will give back to Christianity for those who need an understanding of this Christianity from the depths of their soul. Just as little as all the progress of natural science could take away from man of the post-Christian era the mystery of Golgotha, just as little will spiritual-scientific progress be able to take away from man that which, out of the religious mood, but illuminated by spiritual-scientific ideas in accordance with the demands of the new time, flows to the divine, to that which is also given through Christ. The modern human being needs a spiritual view as the basis for his art and for his religion. Those who have lost the Christ through modern science have lost him because modern science was not initially a spiritual science. And I would like to remind those who today often slanderously claim that Anthroposophy wants to deliver something detrimental to Christianity: Is it courageous to say, in the face of the greatness of the Mystery of Golgotha, which towers above all other earthly forces and events, that those who seriously endeavor to understand this Mystery of Golgotha, in accordance with this or that science, in accordance with the progress of humanity, are anti-Christian? Is it courageous?

No! Again and again, I see before me that Catholic theology professor, who was my friend in the 1880s and 1890s, who, as a professor of Christian philosophy at a theological faculty, gave a speech about Galileo that fully lived up to Galileo by said at the time: No progress in science should be challenged by those who want to be truly Christian, because in truth everything that science can find of worldly secrets only serves to make people more aware of the magnitude of the wonders of divine guidance in the world, not less. Those are fainthearted who believe that Christianity can be shaken by any scientific progress. No, my dear audience, spiritual science knows: Even if millions of insights come in physical or spiritual fields, the event that gives meaning to the earth will stand in ever greater splendor precisely before spiritual-scientific contemplation.

But here it can also be seen how little impartiality there is in the world today. While one should understand - and if one were impartial, would also understand - that the spiritual-scientific world view is what certain people need in order to be led today to the mystery of Golgotha, anthroposophy, the spiritual-scientific world view, is being slandered. But perhaps this is only because there is too little religion in those who want to take on religion. Should it not be the case that one recognizes in particular the religiousness of the soul mood by the fruits, by the way the people concerned appear in life? Should there not be some phenomena today that show in the most intense way how an elevation, how an internalization of the religious mood is also necessary? Let me give just one small example.

Among the many recent refutations of anthroposophy, there is one in which there is a sentence to which I would like to draw your attention here. I will read it out loud:

Because the consciousness of the mind is lacking, ...

— namely, among anthroposophists, one might think.

... in theosophy there is also no savior of sinners. Despite all the praise and despite the exaltation of Christ to the “Sun-I”, Dr. Steiner's Christ is a completely alien personality to us. Here, too, a certain pantheistic tendency is disconcerting. Anthroposophy starts from the human being, and its goal is the ideal human being.

I have just shown how all of anthroposophy strives for the opposite; but the author of this brochure continues:

This and God apparently coincide. A nine-meter-high statue of the ideal human being is currently being carved in Dornach: with “Luciferian” features at the top and animalistic features at the bottom.

Now, my dear attendees, what is being carved out of wood in Dornach has been seen not by hundreds but by thousands of people. The one who has seen that something is being formed that has 'Luciferic traits above and animal features below' — I cannot do other than recall to the one who has seen this the anecdote that contains an instruction on how someone who comes home in the evening can tell whether he is drunk or sober. The advice was to go to bed and put a hat on the bed. If he sees the hat once, he can consider himself sober; if he sees it twice, he can consider himself drunk. Now, the person who sees the hat twice reminds me of the person who sees that something is being chiseled in Dornach - in reality it is carved out of wood -; the person sees something that is not there at all, because at the top is a completely human face, nothing of Luciferic features, a purely human face, below, there is nothing done at all yet, there is still a block of wood, there will also come human features, but below, there is nothing done at all yet. And then someone comes along who does not say that someone told him this – then one might believe that someone has told a tale – no, someone comes along who claims this as strict truth: a nine-meter-high statue of the ideal human being is currently being carved in Dornach, with Luciferic features at the top and animalistic features at the bottom. Thousands of people have seen that this is an objective untruth, and that it is not even just an objective untruth, but that it is one of the most incredible, idiotic distortions of what is intended. And, my dear attendees, what is more:

“This ideal human being...”, Steiner said to the observers present, “...must necessarily be the true image of Christ.”

Not one of the thousands of onlookers who were there will be able to say that I ever said these words. There are enough witnesses here in this hall who know that I have always said nothing but, carefully weighing my words, that the one I am forming here appears to me, according to spiritual vision, as the one who walked in Palestine. I cannot describe him any differently than he appears to me. I do not force this view on anyone. - Never, ladies and gentlemen, has it been said that what is here in quotation marks: “[...] must necessarily be the true image of Christ”.

Well, ladies and gentlemen, this is how one approaches the truth - that must be said. The name of the author of this brochure is preceded by the ominous “D.”, which stands for Doctor of Theology. So apparently, here too, as everywhere else, something like this arises from religious sentiments of the present time. Is there not a need for a renewal of people's religious sentiment when something like this can arise from religious teaching today? Can anyone seeking a spark of truth in such a work find such an example of objective untruth?

Oh, my dear assembled guests, what is leading to the fight against the anthroposophical worldview must be sought where one perhaps does not want to seek it: in the comfortable habits of thought and feeling of the present. I must say, quite apart from how one feels about the fact that the attack is directed against one's own cause, it can hurt, really hurt, when books are written today that are inspired by such a sense of truth. We need an increase of the sense of truth, of the sense of truth, and with it precisely an increase of the religious sense of people today.

And finally, my dear attendees:

Are people of such a nature allowed to claim that anthroposophists indulge in illusions?

Well, no one will find such an illusion in me. Above, one will find a human head, which has absolutely nothing of Lucifer, which is preserved from everything Luciferian; below, a block of wood that has not yet been worked at all. Anyone who looks at this with such an illusion that they see Luciferic features at the top and animal features at the bottom, anyone who can indulge in these illusions, should truly not ascribe to the anthroposophically oriented spiritual scientists a tendency towards illusions. The illusions may lie precisely with those who, out of these very comfortable illusions, would like to fight anthroposophy today.

Ultimately, everything that arises from such foundations is ultimately connected with what has been drawn upon as the materialistic view of the world. And we must go beyond this materialistic view. No matter how imperfectly anthroposophically oriented spiritual science may be today, it only wants to be a beginning, but a beginning that has within it the germination of vigorous further work in the fields of science, art and religion, a vigorous continuation that will be able to bring to people, precisely in these three fields, that which is demanded from the deepest longings of the human soul in the present, which will be demanded more and more in the future, and which ultimately also underlies the core of the burning social question. We must enter into true reality. The materialistically conceived realities that have formed the content of the world views of the last centuries and especially decades are not the true realities.

The true realities must be sought in ways such as those that anthroposophically oriented spiritual science at least attempts; however imperfect it may still be today; for the reality in which man wants to immerse himself when he wants to create something real, he does not find it if he only strives materially, if he does not strive spiritually. But he strives spiritually only when he does not allow a spirit hostile to human knowledge to be placed at the boundaries of so-called knowledge of nature, which says: No entry to the spiritual worlds. No, when he courageously fights his way out of his own strength to see the true inscription at the boundaries of knowledge of nature. This true inscription comes from the spirit to which man actually belongs, and it reads: Welcome the entry into the spiritual world at the boundaries of the knowledge of nature. For it is true, as it sounds from an important work of poetry to him who does not want to see the spiritual depth of the world: Your heart is closed, your mind is dead. Anthroposophically oriented spiritual science wants nothing more than to find those counsels for the human soul and spirit that will lead to the heart being opened and the mind being enlivened, because through the closed heart, through the dead mind, we only enter into the material world. We can only enter into true reality through the spirit, when the mind is illuminated by the light of the spirit, when the heart opens to the true love of the world that comes from spiritual knowledge, and which brings the I into connection with the whole whole universe and thus brings together the human spirit in cognition, feeling and will in right responsibility, in right love for the universe with the whole of being in the universe - in cognition, in the life of the beautiful, in social life.

Allow me today to take up some of the material that I could only hint at yesterday and which will then lead us to our reflection today. Yesterday I had to take up a sentence that emerged from the worldview of the 19th century, insofar as it prevailed in Central Europe, to the sentence that the tongue draws the word, that is, the power to speak, from the teeth just as it draws in air from the environment. And I drew your attention to how the 19th-century scholar has only to add to this sentence that he can laugh at it. But I have also characterized the distance that lies between the time in which such an instinctive view as the one quoted yesterday falls, and the age in which this philistine-ironic criticism then asserted itself, the age that begins with the first third of the 15th century. That saying falls into the previous age and is, for that age, in a certain way extraordinarily characteristic, for the reasons that I gave you yesterday.

But it must also be felt as characteristic in terms of its content. For I explained to you yesterday how, in order to understand the ability to speak and language in general, one must first familiarize oneself with what spiritual science has to say in the sense of what I have explained in my small writing “The Education of the Child from the Point of View of Spiritual Science”. There I have shown what significant process takes place at the change of teeth, how that which later still fulfils the human being as a rhythmic human being and a human being with limb metabolism, but which had previously fulfilled him completely, withdraws from the nerve-sense organization and therefore brings about precisely this process, which is formulated there in my writing “The Education of the Child from the Point of View of Spiritual Science” as the birth of the etheric body. I then showed you how, in a similar way, we must grasp the process that occurs around the fourteenth or fifteenth year, namely sexual maturation, and I explained how what is involved here can be expressed in the formula: birth of the astral body. But I have said that the events that occur in this way in the life of a human being at any stage of life also take place in metamorphosis at other times — but then in metamorphosis — and that what takes place externally between the human being and the external world at the time of sexual maturity must be sought internally as a process that occurs between the soul and spirit and the physical body within the human being as the process that is essentially the physiological correlate of the child learning to speak, and that we must therefore also seek the clues to a truly rational linguistics by starting from a penetrating intuitive knowledge of this process.

I then said that through the establishment and development of abstract logic and abstract logical thinking, the sphere of experience in which what takes place between the spiritual-mental and the physical-corporeal , is, as it were, displaced, pushed down into the subconscious, and that precisely by leading consciousness into abstraction, Aristotle has cut off the possibility of looking towards the prenatal. For if one had had a vivid picture of the workings of the astral in sexual maturation and in speech, as one instinctively could in early antiquity, as we must now strive to achieve again, then one could also have gradually gained a visual understanding of what the connection is between the I itself and the whole physical-etheric-astral human being. That is to say, one could have advanced in this field through the knowledge of learning to speak to the knowledge of the integration of the human spiritual-soul I into its bodily-physical. And Aristotle established his dogma precisely for the reason that with every single human being born here, the soul-spiritual also comes into being. With that, he removed from the world of knowledge the concept of the pre-existing human soul.

Only the concept of this pre-existing human soul provides real knowledge of the eternity of the human soul. This knowledge is not provided by any kind of philosophical speculation, but solely and exclusively by an intuitive judgment in the direction that I have just indicated. This dogma of the non-existence of pre-existence was then adopted into the church doctrine of Christianity. And it must be emphasized that the denial of pre-existence, in that it was then confirmed by councils, is not Christian in the true sense of the word, but is Aristotelian, and with the penetration of Aristotelianism into Christian doctrine, it became a Christian dogma. The moment that Christianity is able to free itself from this element of Aristotelianism, the way will also be clear for an acknowledgment of pre-existence.

It must be said that this pre-existence, which was not doubted by Western Christian doctrine until Origen, disappeared from Western Christian doctrine as a result of the state decree of Justinian, who helped to have Origen condemned as a heretic. That is why the followers of this non-Christian Christian doctrine of the West are so uncomfortable when someone points out the historical facts in the first centuries of Christianity. They then conjure up all the untruths they can muster about the connections between anthroposophy and gnosis and so on.

Now, I cannot go into these things in more detail here. But what I want to say is this: if one bases the spiritual and soul life in man solely on what lives for the contemplation of consciousness since birth, then one gradually comes to what makes the teaching of immortality a mere article of faith.

It can be said that what was prenatal, what was pre-existent in man, comes through the process of birth into a completely unconscious state. This can only be looked at again when one rises up to imagination and inspiration. But at the other pole of the human being, it appears in his will and emotional nature. In the threefold human being, we have on the one hand the nerve-sense human being, who is connected with the imaginative human being, and on the other hand the limb-metabolic human being, who is connected with the will nature of the human being and with his emotional nature. Because the life of imagination is dampened, subdued to the point of objective observation, pre-existence is initially closed to this objective imagination in knowledge. But what is present with it lives in the sphere of the human being that emerges at the other pole. The nature of the will and the emotions comes to the fore. Initially, no knowledge can be gained from this, only mere belief. And if what is prenatal can become knowledge through the expansion of knowledge, then without this expansion of knowledge, what lives in will and emotion can become nothing more than an article of faith for the human being. Therefore, with the dawning of supersensible knowledge, there also comes the dawning of knowledge of the eternity of the human soul, even in language. It should be striking that we have a word for immortality in the more well-known languages of civilization, that is, for life in the afterlife, but that we do not have a word that would express the eternity of the human soul at the other pole of the human being, its being unborn. But modern humanity will have to reclaim this for itself in language: that the eternity of the human being can be expressed in a word like “unborn-ness” — which, of course, will become more sophisticated with increasing civilization — just as it is expressed on the one hand, on the side of death, in the word “immortality”. But then what can be said about the eternity of the human soul will no longer be a mere article of faith, but a content of knowledge. As long as one remains merely with the afterlife, the question of immortality must be a question of faith. As soon as one passes over to a real knowledge of the supersensible, the question of immortality becomes a question of real knowledge.

This is a connection that must be recognized, this is a Rubicon that must be crossed by modern civilization. For what follows from this crossing will not only have a theoretical effect, but will have an effect in a completely different way. We can say: if we learn to ascend appropriately from something like the understanding of the change of teeth, the understanding of language, to what we then come to, we thereby acquire a knowledge of the immortal nature of the human soul.

Those who in the 18th century thought and spoke of the tongue drawing language out of the teeth, they did not believe, as Wilhelm Scherer strangely enough assumes, that there are only dental sounds, but in their instinctive knowledge they were imbued with the fact that in order to understand language one must penetrate down into the human being, just as one must penetrate down in order to understand the change of teeth. Just as the forces arise there, so must one penetrate down to the origins of the path that, with the change of teeth, points to what appeared at a previous step in the development of man: the emergence of language. These insights were instinctive, subconscious. But anyone who brings the corresponding thing out of consciousness today will find what depth they breathe in a certain respect, and what philistinism such objections breathe, like those I discussed yesterday. But we also gain, by soaring to such insights as those about language, at the same time, I would say, access to the way to recognize immortality. Therefore, the recognition of this supersensible world is at the same time connected with the attainment of a sound judgment about that which surrounds us in life, such as language. And we cannot, without becoming inwardly dishonest, pretend to penetrate into something in our environment, such as language, if we do not at the same time admit: here there are limits that are not merely to be recognized as limits of ordinary knowledge, but which make it necessary to transcend them through a different kind of knowledge.

Thus, true knowledge of the external sense world is already connected with the ascent to supersensible knowledge. In truly healthy knowledge, supersensible and sensory perception must work together, with one supporting the other. Therefore, we may believe that with the attainment of sound judgments about the supersensible, sound judgments can also be obtained in relation to what surrounds us in another sphere as human beings, with which we are connected as human beings and with which we must enter into intimate relationships: social life.

In the style of my previous lectures, I have tried as much as possible to adhere to what could be called a completely scientific style. Today, as we move on to what follows from such an inner state of mind as a social science and social practice, as it must arise from spiritual science as it is meant here, we find ourselves in the midst of practice in the present day. For what is to be said in a social context cannot today be considered in the same way as what has gone before.

It is necessary to take the following into account. By rising to imagination, inspiration and so on, what would otherwise be conceptual and cannot directly motivate the will is pushed into the will. Therefore, supersensible knowledge motivates the will, and there is no moral or religious ideal that is not rooted at least unconsciously in the supersensible. What is gained through imagination only from the sense world can never be socially or morally motivating because it remains ineffective for the will. Therefore, one must say that it could perhaps be conspicuous that the people who got hold of my writing on the social life of the threefold order, when they read it, found nothing in it of what they were accustomed to finding as the basic tone, for example, in my anthroposophical writings. Perhaps some people expected that when someone who professes to be an anthroposophist writes on a subject such as the one contained in my Threefolding of Man, then all kinds of familiar “anthroposophical” judgments must flow into all the details that are discussed there; one must very much mystel to all sorts of admonitions and so on.

Even if such a judgment has been heard many times from the anthroposophical side, it is no different in quality from the judgments of those who wanted to find in my Theosophy, as I was writing it, a literal transcription of what was in my arguments with Haeckelianism, for example. People just cannot understand how real anthroposophy, when it passes over into the will, leads to the environment, that is, to the objective observation of every field that it undertakes, so that one does not simply need to carry the formulas that are found in one field into another. It is easy to believe that those who have been accustomed to hearing this or that word for word over long periods of time will then find it unusual and uncomfortable to hear the same thing in another language. However, the different areas of life require different languages. And the point is that when they are spoken about, they should be spoken about in the same spirit, but not that the same concepts and ideas should be expressed in the same words everywhere. And in anthroposophy it is important that it is not only taken in according to its wording, but that it is taken in according to its spirit. But then one will recognize, when it wants to be active in an eminently practical area, such as the social question: which activity is called for by the need of the time, by all the forces of decline that are coming to light in our time. Inwardly, this treatment of the social question is entirely connected with what flows from other aspects of knowledge, but not from other practical aspects, even through the more theoretical sides of anthroposophy. Therefore, I must ask you today to bear in mind that I will have to depart from the style of my previous lectures, which were kept within the bounds of objective science. For it is necessary that what must live in direct life as impulses of the will, and what must still fight for its position, be grasped in a different form, so that it approaches our souls in a different way from that which one can say: That is how it is! Please refer to what is given in my book 'The Core Points of the Social Question' about threefolding. And today I want to speak more from the point of view of great social practice. Not theoretically, but from the point of view of social practice, I want to speak of what must be done first in the broadest sense. What must be done is connected with what has been done in recent years with regard to the threefold social order, despite the fact that it has aroused such tramping disapproval from fellow students, as it did, for example, in Stuttgart the day before yesterday in such a repulsive form. Therefore, I would like to give you a characterization that is very much of our time, which is based on the content that you can read about in my book 'The Core Points of the Social Question', in my book 'In Practice: Threefolding', and which you will then find characterizing various aspects of the lectures that are still to be given here today. I just wanted to give a kind of introduction to the general tone that will be struck. But I would like to say that precisely because, in the course of more recent times, humanity, for the reasons that have already been developed, has increasingly — despite believing that it is so very practical, believing that it has to an abstraction that can never bear favorable fruit anywhere else than in the scientific consideration of the inorganic, that humanity thereby became utterly impractical. Humanity had settled into this abstraction and had gradually begun to speak out of this abstraction even about what directly surrounds us as socially concrete life. If you read through all the theoretical discussions that modern, learned economists usually precede their system, you will find how the question figures everywhere: To what extent can the scientific observer of the national economy see into what is happening around us in practical terms? And how should the political economist, in order to do justice to the scientific claim – but that means nothing other than the scientific claim that one has acquired out of habit from the scientific point of view – how should he, this political economist, act in order to meet these scientific demands?

The confusion surrounding this question, and the fact that this confusion expresses a lack of contact with real social life, was something I first had to show in my book “The Key Points of the Social Question”. I had to show how, in this more recent period, hurrying on to abstraction, the leading human personalities have indeed found the way to live in the technical and social workings of the capitalist system, but how, precisely because their sense for what is human has been lost, nothing has come from these leading personalities for that which is so closely connected with man and his knowledge as the social question. For the connection between theoretical knowledge and so-called practical knowledge had been lost philosophically, too; in spite of Schopenhauer's saying, or perhaps because of the meaning of it, which was so much alive in modern humanity. In spite of the saying, “It is easy to preach morals, but difficult to found them,” word, one could not see how necessary it is to search for those foundations of life that not only preach morality, as Schopenhauer says, and thus want to provide a theoretical proof for it, but that want to establish morality through facts, by pointing to what really lives in the world of facts.

In Kantian philosophy, the confusion in this area is expressed by the fact that a sharp distinction is drawn between what is theoretical reflection, what is criticized in the “Critique of Pure Reason,” and what is the content of a mere imperative and therefore of a mere belief, and what is criticized in the “Critique of Practical Reason.” No attempt should be made to bridge the gap, although, as you have heard from this platform in recent days, Goethe objected to this with his concept of “contemplative judgment,” of “intellectus archetypus,” and then tried to approach what is really practical in the justification of human action from a different angle. Schopenhauer could not find it because he regarded everything that lives in the world of ideas from the outset as something merely pictorial, as something that cannot be imbued with the content of being. He also only referred to the will, which, however, cannot be brought into consciousness for objective knowledge without higher supersensible knowledge. Thus he felt the inadequacy of the theoretical basis of practical action. Through mere theoretical reason he was incapable of pointing out the basis of practical action itself, because in the will he saw only a blind thing, never one to be penetrated by the light of knowledge. For this light can only be the supersensible. And to that Schopenhauer did not want to rise either.

Then came other attempts, such as that of Herbarts. In Herbart we find the attempt to find a kind of basis in practical life for what practical action is. But the characteristic feature of Herbart is that in his practical philosophy he seeks what is basically an aesthetic judgment, that he tries to found practical philosophy as a part of aesthetics. In this way — by implicitly going beyond what he has theoretically in his consciousness — the five well-known practical ideas of perfection, goodwill, inner freedom, right and equity emerge. But man's relationship to them is one of consent, which in turn also requires the motivating force. Here, too, I can only hint at how an attempt was made, I would like to say, to break through what was given with the merely abstracting intellect, but how this attempt, because it did not want to penetrate to real spiritual science, failed in all possible respects.

Therefore, I must point out that the reason why the leading personalities could not find what appeals to people lies in this development of modern historical life. And so they found the way to the machine, so they found the way into technology, so they found the way to capitalism. They did not find the way to the human being, whom they left standing beside the machine, just as the natural scientist leaves the real human being standing beside what he is investigating theoretically through his natural science.

What is being lived out in natural science is rooted in a deep habit of life and expresses itself in all areas. Therefore, the first chapter of my “Key Points” could only be such that it illuminates this effect of a life-alien spiritual life in modern times. It had to be pointed out sharply to me, not by a theoretical consideration, but by the life experience described in my book, that the personalities who were the leaders in all traditions in the artistic, religious and scientific fields, in addition to what mere conception in the imagination in modern times, they created a religious content of feeling that could not arise in the class that was removed from the life of tradition and placed at the machine, which, of what emerged in this modern time, only took on the theoretical abstraction, so that in addition to the life of toil and labor, this class was also confronted with what comes from the emptiness of the soul, which can theoretically be filled with what a theoretical scientific way of thinking can provide, but which cannot live with it.

Thus what was to live through my “Key Points of the Social Question”, and already in the “Call” that preceded it, was conceived in the most eminent sense in practical terms, conceived as something that must pass directly into life, that should not merely take hold of the intellects, but should take hold of the will. And it had emerged from what should take hold of the will.

When it became clear to a larger number of personalities in the outside world how the terrible catastrophic events of the second decade of the 20th century would unfold, something intervened in the events - I will only hint at the direction today, as I said, you can find more details in my books -– that was the most bloodless abstraction, something born entirely out of abstract spirituality. With this abstract type of spirituality, the man who had become President of the United States of America from a scholar had emerged, Woodrow Wilson. In his Fourteen Points, he presented to the world as an impulse for practical action something that emerged only from an abstraction that was alien to life. The practical proof of this was provided by the situation – you can read about it in Maynard Keynes – in which Woodrow Wilson found himself during the negotiations in Versailles, where what lived in his theory was increasingly eroded in the face of what had been worked out in Versailles from the most outdated traditional views. Historical development itself has provided the proof of the lack of life in Woodrow Wilson's Fourteen Points. When they were drawn up, however, they testified that with such abstraction one can also introduce something into reality: one introduces something into it, but one introduces only error! It is not that abstractions, when they pass through human beings, cannot conjure up realities; but it is the case that they will always cause confusion or inadequacies in these realities, because they have not been taken from life. Thus the Fourteen Points were able to transport ships and armies across the sea, but these Fourteen Points could not send a vital impulse into modern civilization.

I fear that what is at stake within modern civilization has still not been grasped by a sufficiently large number of people. For in the post-war period in America, Woodrow Wilson was followed by Harding – and we were recently able to read this Harding's inaugural address: the same abstract phrases, the same talk of “human brotherhood” that cannot be motivating because it lives in abstractions, the continuation of Wilson's policy under a different name. I cannot find that there is sufficient understanding in a sufficiently large number of people for the inadequacies that are perpetuated here. It is as if modern man has lost all connection with any enthusiasm for truth, for living truth, and would pass by asleep even such a lack of contact with life as was again heard in the inaugural address of the American president.

At the time when the Fourteen Points first entered modern life, what was contained in these Fourteen Points in the way of alienation from life should be countered by a real practice of life, something that emanated from life, emanated at the same time from the most important components of modern public life, from real social practice, from an understanding of what pulsates through contemporary humanity as a social question.

In a Stuttgart lecture a short time ago, I pointed out such things in a way that was true to life, after Lloyd George wanted to prevent the then impending outbreak of strikes and smoothed over the circumstances. After this gluing of social conditions, I said in Stuttgart: You can use such things, which, despite coming from Lloyd George, are only theoretical, to glue conditions, but you cannot direct realities, and people will see that only theory has been gluing, but that nothing has been achieved in practical life, and that this will soon become apparent. — Now you have it! Now you can see for yourself, from what has actually happened, whether in that Stuttgart lecture the knowledge of social forces was spoken of or whether it was only spoken of in theory, whereas today one not only speaks in theory but also acts in theory in public and especially in social life, where it is truly out of place.

And so at that time, when, I might say, in a classical way, the political fruit of modern abstractism appeared in Woodrow Wilson's Fourteen Points, an attempt was made to awaken understanding in those who listened to it at the time, discouraged and reluctant to act , but who were curious about it in a certain way, to try to awaken understanding for the fact that from Europe - at first only Central Europe was accessible - in the form of the threefold social order, something concrete and practical was being opposed to the impractical Fourteen Points. And one could have been convinced if one had had a sense of realities, not just of beloved theories that had then become “practical”. One could have been convinced that just as the impractical abstractions in reality have set armies and ships in motion, that which would have been spoken out of a reality, if only it had been conveyed from the right place, would also have conjured up realities.

But those who had a say at the time did not want to listen. Social practice was far from their minds. They were accustomed to what had emerged in the course of modern times: to go the way to the machine, to the machinery of the social order, but not to go the way to the human being who stands at the machine, who lives as a human being within the machinery of the social order, and who, as a human being, is an active being.

Since people at that time did not understand what the necessities of life demanded, it was a necessary consequence that, immediately after the bloody catastrophe of war had ended, at the instigation of friends in Stuttgart, what is contained in my “Appeal to the German People and the World of Culture” and what is contained in my “Key Points of the Social Question” came about. And in the period when the old powers had disappeared in certain areas of modern civilized life, an attempt was made to speak to the broad masses of the people, to those who had suffered most from all the conditions that I have now indicated and otherwise described again and again. The beginning was basically a good one. It was possible to reach the broad masses of the people. They gradually understood the significance of the impulse of the threefold social order. For it is nonsense to say that it is difficult to understand in itself. The difficulty in understanding it lies only in the fact that one cannot escape from old habits of thinking, that one cannot refrain from imposing one's own habitual, rigid way of thinking on something that presents itself as something quite different. That is the reason, not the difficulty of the matter itself. Therefore, there was also the possibility of finding understanding precisely within those who, out of their own needs, were striving for a relative solution to the social question, and who had already seen that they could not arrive at a satisfactory organization of social life in modern times from the old dogmatic Marxism.

A spanner was put in the works by the fact that on the one hand, not the workers, but the leaders of these workers, and on the other hand, leading figures of the old bourgeoisie, reacted negatively. From all sides, one was, so to speak, left in the lurch with regard to the impulse of threefolding.

At first, in the spring of 1919, those in leading positions were gripped by a terrible fear and grasped at anything that had anything to do with the social question. As a result, some found themselves in the first stirrings of threefolding, as it came to them, but they did not have the strength or the courage to persevere with it. One of the celebrated leaders of the bourgeoisie of a Central European region said to me at the time, when we were in the midst of what was to happen: Yes, in the way you understand and speak to the broad masses of the people, one could indeed have high hopes; but such a thing, you will admit to a party leader of the old parties, must not be left to two people; others are not yet not yet – I am just quoting – that would be effective in this direction; therefore, we do not rely on this whole broad movement, but we want to hold the old order, despite the fact that it may only last for another fifteen or twenty years at most, with the cannons and rifles.

That was the response from one side. But let me also speak of the response from the other side, because I have to characterize practically what it is about. The working population, insofar as I was able to speak to them, tried to get involved in the threefolding movement with relative ease and with inner understanding. Then the labor leaders came, and they became, I might say, green with envy, because now they could be addressed from a different side than from the side of their instilled Marxism. And they, like the others, invented all kinds of slander and dirty tricks to prevent the workers, who are so credulous in their faith in authority in their relations with their leaders, from finding the right way to understanding. But the workers have not yet reached the point where they can find their way in the right way in their faith in authority, which has been handed down from past decades. The moment the workers realize what the lower and higher-ranking labor leaders are really after, much of the well-intentioned belief that still exists in this area will evaporate. They will realize that those at the top, of the Lenin and Trotsky, Lunach arskij, are at the head of the movement, they do not have the happiness and well-being of the masses at heart. They say to themselves and to each other: The broad masses of the people are stupid and will always be racked by passions; there is nothing to be done with them but to tyrannize them; therefore it must not be conspicuous that we also tyrannize, whether we are called Czar Nicholas or Lenin; for us, it is only a matter of those who used to sit on the curule chairs falling down and us now sitting on them; for us, it is a matter of conquering the seats of government!

The moment this realization dawns on the broadest sections of society, many things will change. But then the time will also have come when social practice can really be introduced into social life. Then people will look with practical understanding at what I have said in the second and third chapters of my “Key Points of the Social Question”, which I would like to say exemplifies what can be achieved from such a spirit. Then it will be seen that nothing here has been invented out of thin air, but that everything has been gained out of a hard-won practical life experience, just as in the past, after Woodrow Wilson's Fourteen Points had become known, this idea of the threefold social organism first appeared.

I speak as someone who spent half of his life, thirty years, in Austria, in this experimental country for social impossibilities. I speak as someone who knows well how people spoke in this Austrian experimental country in a ministry, a liberal ministry. At the height of Austrian liberalism, when the social question was already looming behind liberalism, the liberal Giskra said: In Austria we have nothing to do with the social question, because the social question stops at Bodenbach! — This was proclaimed in the parliament of liberalism in Austria by the responsible Minister of the Interior, in the last third of the 19th century.

Anyone who wants to study how the impossible mixing of the three parts of the social organism worked in this Austrian parliament – I would like to say in its purest form, which I have already expressed in my “key points” by stating that the composition of parliament was based on four economic curiae – can see how things gradually developed.

But what must emerge from every such consideration is that it is a matter of finding impulses for practical social life that speak from this life itself. Then we may come to the time when there will be a sufficiently large number of people who, uninfluenced by the old designations of direction, “right” and “left”, turn their attention to the factual and practical, which, because it flows from reality, may believe it has a right to have a say in the most important matters of life. And these are the social matters.

Today, many people take the view that the world will be put in order if only they can continue the old impulses, and for a long time now they have been trying again to see how it can work by letting the old continue. They turn their eyes away from the fact that under this unobjective, unrealistic approach, more and more comes about that must have a demoralizing effect on the whole of modern civilization.

But a possibility to move forward will not arise until people realize that, without looking to the left or right, they must look objectively at direct life. For only in this way can we develop an understanding of such practical and social ideas that can not only preach an ethical and social life, but also found it. For it is the foundation of this life that should be emphasized in the threefold social organism. Theorists have long repeated from their theoretical point of view that today we must look at what also lives in ethics in a “social” way. Since the division of labor, man has been placed entirely in the social sphere, and one must understand “from the social” what motivates man when he is to act.

As long as this judgment remains bloodless, as long as it remains an abstraction, it will achieve nothing. For as an abstraction it is just as true as it is false. That it is false I have shown in my Philosophy of Freedom. The other, truly alarming aspect is that man hands himself over more and more with his freedom to the objective economic process and the like, as is even theoretically expounded in Marxism. And in that man hands himself over to the economic process or the state process or the other social institutions that we have now, naturally more and more his motivation for action becomes a social one. This can and may be understood. For modern civilization aims at people learning to live with people in a division of labor. But if the social order is to motivate appropriate social action in the individual, then it must be a social organism that is capable of motivating the will through its own inner laws. In a living social organism, one must not only preach morals, but establish social morals. In this field, morals must be established not through words and ideas, but through the realities of the situation. These realities should be stimulated by the impulse of the threefold social organism.

The matter was so little understood that the abstract thinkers even mocked me because I kept using the word “impulse” instead of “idea” to suggest that there should be power in this tendency of the threefold social organism, not just talk. That should already be in the life of this work for threefolding: that there is reality in it, not just talk. Otherwise, one can also go around as an ethical traveling speaker, as there are so many of them now, trying to persuade people: Just become ethical again, just become good again, and social harmony will arise! I have always said to those who wanted to hear it, when speaking to the stove in the room: You stove, according to your nature, it is your categorical imperative to warm the room – it will not warm the room. But you don't need to preach if you put wood in and light it. You don't need to moralize in theory, mystify, aestheticize. What is needed is not just a “practical” mixture of ideas, but real impulses to stimulate social forces that are filled with ideas, if it is to be a social practice. And only when we have developed an understanding for this fact will we learn to think correctly about what threefolding actually wants.

But because this reaches down into the soul and will, an enthusiasm and commitment to the truth is required for this understanding of threefolding, not just a theoretical interest in the truth and in a theoretical discussion. As long as we are unable to take truth into our will, to extract it from theory and permeate our whole being with it, there can be no beginning to a fruitful treatment of the social question and social practice.

That is what it is about: that those who seek understanding for what threefolding wants to achieve may seek it with their whole being. Then enthusiasm will not come from blind instincts, but will be stimulated by light-filled knowledge. Then it will not remain blind itself, but will shine itself. When the impulses of the will do not come from instincts and drives, but from an overview of social life, then they do not remain blind and dark, but become themselves seeing and luminous. And the path of the impulse of the threefold social order depends on the will and enthusiasm for the truth becoming ever more luminous and radiant in this sense. And I would like to express the hope that what can be said here in this direction will contribute to inspiring not a blind and dark enthusiasm and will, but a light-filled, willed shaping of life.

Final Word on the Fourth Evening of the Disputation

In the course of the very lively disputation on the topic “Social Science and Social Practice”, a Dutch member of the Society came back to the “World School Association” (see p. 92 ff.). He called for “immediate action”, namely to proceed with the founding immediately (following a Dutch initiative that was supported by iso names). In doing so, it referred to the fact that in April 1912, members of the “German Section” of the “Theosophical Society”, at the suggestion of a member who had travelled from England, had founded a “bund” through such an “act”, from which “what is known today as the Anthroposophical Society originated”.

I do not wish to detain you much longer, but would just like to make a few comments, firstly in connection with what our friend v.L. has proposed here, which is certainly quite commendable, or will be if it leads to the promised goal. I would just like to note that it would be a questionable basis if the matter were built on the same foundation as the “bund”, to which reference has been made. At that time, work was indeed carried out with a certain zeal, in the way Mr. v.L. has roughly outlined it today: people sat down in small committees, discussed all sorts of things, what should be done and so on. But then Mr. v.L. made a statement which, of course, is a small mistake at first, but which, if it were to continue to have an effect, could lead to a big mistake. It was said that the Anthroposophical Society emerged from the work that was so tirelessly carried out that night. No, that is not the case at all: nothing emerged from that night and from that founding of the society! I would like to protect the intended “restless work of this night” from this fate. There was a lot of talk back then about what needed to be done, but nothing came of it. And the mistake that could arise is based on the fact that one might think that something should now be done in the direction indicated by that “covenant”. What actually happened was that those who had been involved in our anthroposophical work, who were already very much with us, founded the Anthroposophical Society quite separately from this federation, and this then developed further, while the “federation” gradually passed from a gentle slumber into social death, let us say.

So, it would be a small mistake! And this must be emphasized, so that the mistakes of that night committee are not repeated in its second edition. That is one thing.

The other point I would like to make is that the aim of a world school association should be based on something really broad and should be tackled from the outset with a certain courage and a comprehensive vision.

Our friend v.L. has quite rightly emphasized that what is to be advocated in relation to a free spiritual life in connection with the threefold social organism must be treated in different ways for the most diverse fields. But this must then also really

so that the way it is treated is appropriate for the territories concerned. I myself will always point out that, for example, in England it will be necessary to present things in a way that is appropriate to the English civilization. |

One must thoroughly understand what is imagination in the face of the great human questions of the present, and what is reality. So one must not present the matter in such a way as to create the belief that English intellectual life is freer than other intellectual lives. And you will see, if you really go through the “key points”, that less emphasis is placed on the negative aspect – the liberation of intellectual life from the state – and much less emphasis is placed on the establishment of a free intellectual life in general. And there it will always remain a good word: that it depends on the human being, that it really depends on the spiritual foundations from which the human being emerges, which spiritual foundations are created for his education. It is not so much a matter of emphasizing the negative aspect, but rather the positive. And I need only say this: if, let us say, spiritual life were formally freed from state control, and everything else remained the same, then liberation from the state would not be of much use.

The point is that positive spirit, as it has been represented here this week, as it has been tried to represent it, that this free spirit be brought into intellectual life internationally. And then things will happen as they should happen.

For example, the Waldorf School is not only a truly independent school, it does not even have a director, but the teaching staff is a truly representative community. It is not a matter of all measures being taken in such a way that 'nothing else' speaks except what comes from the teaching staff themselves, so that here we really have 'an independent spiritual community', but it is also a matter of the fact that in all countries there is a lack of the spiritual life that has been talked about here all week. And when one hears it emphasized somewhere that “intellectual life is free in this country” – I am not talking about Switzerland now, I am talking about England – that is another matter. And it is this positive aspect, above all, that matters. It must then be emphasized: Of course, this will only exist if one tries to actually respond to the specific circumstances in the individual countries and territories.

But one must have a heart and mind for what unfree intellectual life has ultimately done in our time. Not in order to respond to what was said here yesterday, but to show the blossoms of human thinking, both intellectually and morally, that our current intellectual life brings to light, I would like to read you a sentence. I do not wish to detain you for long, and I do not wish to speak from the standpoint from which there was such virulent opposition to anthroposophy and the threefold social order here yesterday; but I would like to read out a sentence from the brochure that had to be discussed here yesterday. General von Gleich writes about me: “At the turn of the century, which also marks a turning point in the supersensible world of Anthroposophy, Mr. Steiner, then almost forty years old, was gradually led to Theosophy through Winter's lectures on mysticism.”

Now you may ask who this Mr. Winter is, whom Mr. v. Gleich cites here as the person through whose lectures I was converted to Anthroposophy in Berlin. One can only put forward the following hypothesis: in the preface to those lectures that I gave in Berlin in the winter of 1901/1902, there is a sentence in which I say: the movement I want to talk about began with my lectures in the winter of 1901/1902. — From this winter, during which I gave my lectures, that Mr. 'Winter' was born, who converted me to theosophy in 1901/1902.

You see, I do not want to use the expression that applies to the intellectual disposition of a person who, because of it, is now called to lead the opponents of the anthroposophical movement; I do not want to use the expression; but you will certainly be able to use it sufficiently. This is the kind of intellectual product of the spiritual life that one could pass through in the present day to the extent of becoming a major general.

So one must look at the matter from a somewhat greater depth. Only then will one develop a heart and a mind for what is necessary. And just because the spiritual life must be tackled first and foremost through the school system, it is so desirable that this World School Association could be established, which would not be so difficult to establish if the will for it exists. But it must not be a smaller or larger committee, but must be established in such a way that its membership is unmanageable. Only then will it have value. It must not — I do not want to give any advice on this, because I have said enough about it — it must not, of course, impose any special sacrifices on an individual. It must be there to create the mood for what urgently needs a mood today! — That is something of what I still had to tie in with what has come to light today.

Finally, I must say something that I would rather not say, but which I must say, since otherwise it would not have been touched upon this evening and it might be too late for the next few days, when the pain of departure will probably set in. I must point this out myself. The point is that it is taken for granted that everything that has been said today will be worked for. But this work only makes sense if we can maintain the Goetheanum as it stands here, and above all, if we can complete it.

Now, however well things are going with “Futurum A.-G.” and however well things are going with “Kommenden Tag”, they will not be any economic support for this Goetheanum for a long time to come. Certainly not. And the greatest concern that weighs on me today, despite all my other concerns, is this: that in the not too distant future we may find ourselves with no economic support for this Goetheanum. Therefore, it is necessary above all to emphasize that each of us should work towards this, that each of us who can contribute something towards this, that this building can find its completion, may do so! That is what is needed above all: that we are put in a position by the friends of our cause to be able to maintain this Goetheanum, to be able to finish this Goetheanum above all. And that, as I said, is my great concern. I must say so here. Because ultimately, what would it help if we could do as much propaganda as we want and we might have to close the Goetheanum in three months from now? This is also one of the social concerns that, in my opinion, are connected with the general social life of the present day. And I had to emphasize this concern because the facts on which it is based should not really be forgotten: this makes it possible to strengthen the movement that emanates from this Goetheanum.

We can see the intellectual foundations on which those who are now taking up their posts against us are fighting. That will be a beginning. We must be vigilant, very vigilant, because these people are clever. They know how to organize themselves. What happened in Stuttgart is a beginning, it is intended as a beginning. And only then will we be able to stand up to them if we spark such idealism – I would like to say it again this time – that does not say: Oh, ideals are so terribly high, they are so exalted, and my pocket is something so small that I do not reach into it when it comes to exalted ideals. – It must be said: Only idealism is true that also digs into its pockets for the ideals!

Closing Remarks at a Student Assembly

At the suggestion of German students, a meeting was held on the afternoon of 9 April 1921 to discuss how anthroposophical work could be established at universities. Dr. Steiner spoke at the end.

Dr. S. has, however, pointed out the three most important issues at stake here: whether to organize or not, as desired. But above all, I would like to emphasize one thing: if you are involved in a movement like ours, it is necessary to learn from the past and to lead further stages of the movement in such a way that certain earlier mistakes are avoided.

What it will depend on in the first place is this: that anthroposophy, to the extent that it can already be accepted by the student body in terms of understanding and to the extent that it is at all possible through the available forces or opportunities, that anthroposophy in its various branches be spread among the student body as positive spiritual content. Our experience has basically shown that something real can only be achieved if one can really build on the basis of the positive.

Yesterday I had the opportunity to point out that years ago an attempt was made to establish a kind of world federation for spiritual science, and that nothing came of this world federation, which actually only wanted to proceed according to the rules of formal external organization. It ended, so to speak, in what the Germans call “das Hornberger Schießen” – a shooting match in Hornberg. But because a sense of cohesion and collaboration were needed at the time, the existing adherents of anthroposophy had to be brought together in the “Anthroposophical Society”. These were now more or less all people who had simply been involved with anthroposophy. It is only with such an organization, where there is already something in it, that one can then do something.

Of course it will be especially necessary for the student body not only to work in the sense of spreading the given anthroposophical problems in the narrower sense, but also to work out general problems and the like in the sense that Dr. S. just meant. Of course, at first it will not be so necessary to work towards dissertations with such things. It has often, really quite often, happened recently that I have been asked by younger students along the following lines: Yes, we actually want to combine anthroposophy with our particular science. How can one approach this in such a way that one works towards one's goal in the right way after the doctorate, after the state examination? What should one do? How should one set up one's work? — I have always given the following advice: Try to get through the official studies as quickly as possible, to get through them as quickly as possible – and I am always very happy to help with any advice – then choose any scientific topic that seems to emerge from the course of your studies, as a dissertation or state examination or the like. Whichever topic you choose, one of them is of course diametrically opposed to the other approaches in anthroposophical terms, there can be no doubt about that. Each is diametrically opposed. But now I advise you to write your dissertation in such a way that you first write down what the professor can censor, what he will understand; and take a second notebook, and write down everything that comes to you in the course of your studies and that you believe should actually be worked in from anthroposophy. You then keep that for yourself. Then you make your two sheets, that's how long a dissertation must be. You submit these. And try to finish them. Then you can really help anthroposophy with what you have acquired in addition to this one in the second issue, bit by bit. Because you actually only really notice what significant problems — special and specialist problems — arise when you are faced with the necessity of really working scientifically on a certain topic and the like. But there is a danger of, I would say, unclear cooperation with the professorship. And submitting dissertations to the professors that are written “in the anthroposophical sense” – these usually do not suit professors – I do not consider this to be a good idea because it actually slows us down at the pace that the anthroposophical movement should be taking.

We need as many academically trained co-workers as possible. If there is anything we lack in the anthroposophical movement today, it is a sufficient number of academically trained co-workers. I do not mean the externality of needing, say, people with degrees. That is not what I mean. But first of all, we need people who have learned to work scientifically from within. This inner scientific work is best learned in one's own work. Secondly, however, we need staff who come from the student body as soon as possible, and who are no longer held back by considerations for their later specialized studies. (You see, it is not at all wonderful that it is as difficult as it is in Switzerland, for example.) As a student, you naturally have the opportunity to join such a group in the first few semesters, if you are free-minded enough to do so. Then come the last semesters. You are busy with other things, and it becomes more difficult. And so the threads that you have pulled are constantly being torn away. This has just been emphasized.

So I would like to say, especially for scientific collaboration: the topics must be processed twice during such a transition period: one that the professor understands, and the other that is saved for later.

Of course, I am not saying that very special opportunities that arise are not seized, and that these opportunities, which arise, are not vigilantly observed by the student body in the most eminent sense and also really exploited in the sense and service of the movement: On the one hand, I hope, and on the other hand, I fear almost silently, that our dear friend, Professor Römer in Leipzig, will now be inundated with a huge number of anthroposophical dissertations! But I think that would also be one of the things he would probably prefer. And such a document of student trust would show that he is not one of the professors just mentioned. That would come from the foundation.

Now, however, we need an expansion of what has already been discussed here in Dornach, namely a kind of collaboration after all. You will work out among yourselves later how best to do this technically. It would be good if, with the help of the Waldorf teachers, who would be joined by other personalities from our ranks – Professor Römer, Dr. Unger and others – a certain exchange could take place, especially regarding the choice of topics for dissertations or scientific papers, without in any way compromising the free initiative of the individual. It can only be in the form of advice. It is precisely for this scientific work that a closer union should be sought – it doesn't have to be an organization, but an exchange of ideas – between you.

The economic aspect is, of course, a very, very important one. It is a fact that the university system in particular, but actually more or less the entire higher education system, will suffer greatly from our economic difficulties. Now it is a matter of really seeing clearly that it is only possible to help if it is possible to advance such institutions, as it is for example for Germany the “Kommende Tag”, as it is here the “Futurum”. So that a reorganization of the economic situation of the student body can also emanate from these organizations. I can assure you that all the things we are tackling in this direction are actually calculated on rapid growth. We do not have time to take our time; instead, we actually have to make rapid progress with such economic organizations. And here I must say that the members of the student body, perhaps with very few exceptions, can help us above all by spreading understanding for such things. It has indeed already happened in relation to other things that a student could achieve something for this or that with his father, or could achieve something with his relatives. Not everyone has only destitute friends. And then there really is something that works like an avalanche. Just think about how powerfully something like an avalanche works, based on experience: when you start somewhere, it continues. Something like this continues to have an effect when you act out of the positive: try to study these brochures that have been published by “Kommender Tag” and “Futurum”, and try to create understanding for something like this.

It is this understanding that the oldest people in particular find extremely difficult to work their way up to. I have seen how older people, I would say, have chewed on the desire to understand what “Tomorrow” or “Futurum” want, how they have repeatedly fallen back on their old economic prejudices, like a cat on its paws, with which they have rushed into economic decline, and how they cannot find their way out. I believe that there really is a bright understanding among our fellow students that could also have some effect on the older generations. We cannot make any progress in any other way. Because I can tell you: when we have come so far in relation to these economic institutions that we can effectively do something, that we first of all have enough funds to do something on a large scale – because only then does it help – and on the other hand can overcome the resistance of the proletariat, which is particularly hostile to an economic improvement in the situation of students, then it must indeed be the first concern of our economic organizations to work economically in relation to the student body.

The 'battle problems'! Yes, you see, that's the problem: the Anthroposophical Society, even if it wasn't called that before, has existed since the beginning of the century, and it has always actually only worked positively, at least as far as I myself am concerned. It let the opponents rant and do all sorts of things. But naturally then the opponents come with certain objections. They say, there it has been said, there that has been said, yes that, that has not even been refuted. It is already so that one finds understanding for it that actually the one who asserts something has the burden of proof, not the one to whom it is attributed. And we could really experience it again and again, that strange views emerged precisely among academics, I now mean lecturers, professors, pastors and those who had emerged from the ranks of academics. Just think, that from, I would like to say, for the outside world honorable - but I say it only between quotation marks: “honorable” - professors, things are put forward against Anthroposoph , and so on, that if one follows these proofs with reasons, it is a mockery, a bloody mockery of all possible methods of asserting something in science. Therefore, with someone like Professor Fuchs, I simply had to say: It is impossible that this person is anything other than a quite impossible anatomist! Am I supposed to believe that he examines things conscientiously when, after everything that has been presented, he examines my baptismal certificate in the way he has examined it? You have to draw conclusions about the way one area is treated from the way another is treated. Such things simply show – through the fact that people step forward and show their particular habits – the symptoms of how science is done today. Even the things that are presented at universities and technical colleges today are basically no better founded than the things that are asserted in this way; it is just that the generally loosened habits in scientific life are revealed in this way. And that is what is needed: to take the fight to a higher level, so to speak.

And there it is not necessary, as my fellow student wished, for example, which I understand very well, to play as a “fighting organization.” That is not necessary. Rather, only one thing: to avoid what has occurred so frequently in the Anthroposophical Society. In the Anthroposophical Society, this always came to the fore, as incredible as it is – not in everyone, of course, but very often: one was obliged to defend oneself against a wild accusation, and then to use harsh words, for example, we say in the case when a Mr. v. Gleich invents the term “Winter” for a lecturer by reading that I myself have given winter lectures, then invents a personality “Winter” and introduces it into the fight in a very nasty way. Yes, you see, I don't think that in this case one would say too harsh words if one spoke of Trottelisis! Because here, even if it occurs with a general, one is dealing with a genuine Trottelisis in its purest form. And in the Anthroposophical Society it was usually the case that it was not the person who was at fault who acted like Mr. von Gleich, but the person who defended himself. Until today! We have learned a few times that it was said: You must not become aggressive in this way. In the eyes of many people, becoming aggressive means defending oneself in this way. It is necessary that you, without emphasizing that you are a fighting organization or the like, still follow things with a watchful eye and reject them. You have to act positively in this regard; and then the others have to stand behind you, behind the one who is forced to defend himself. It is not a matter of our becoming fighting cocks ourselves; but it is a matter of the others standing behind him when it becomes necessary to defend himself. And it is a matter of really following the symptoms of the world-descriptive, scientific, religious, and so on, in this respect in our time, taking an interest in them.

Take this single phenomenon: I was obliged to characterize philosophical, or whatever you want to call it, scribblings by Count Keyserling in the appropriate way, because in his incredible superficiality he mixed in the madness that I started from Haeckel's views. This is not only an objective untruth, but in this case a subjective untruth, that is, a lie, because one must demand that anyone who makes such an assertion should search for the sources; and he could have seen that the chapter I wrote in the earliest years of my writing career is in my arguments with Haeckel, in the introduction to Goethe's scientific writings. You can all read it very well. Now Count Keyserling has had a small pamphlet published by his publisher: “The Way to Perfection”. I will not characterize this writing further, but I recommend that one or two of you buy this writing and pass it around; because if everyone wanted to buy it, it would be a waste of money; but I still recommend that you read it so that you get an idea of what, so to speak, goes against all wisdom in this writing “The Way to Perfection” by Keyserling. There is the following sentence, which he put together, more or less as I remember it: Yes, if I said something incorrect, that Dr. Steiner started from Haeckel, then Dr. Steiner could simply have corrected that; he could have set me right, because I have - and now I ask you to pay close attention to this sentence - because I have no time for a special Steiner source research.

So now, you see, we have already brought scientific morality to such a pass that someone who founds a “school of wisdom” considers it justified to send things out into the world that he admittedly has no time to research, that he has therefore not researched! Here one catches a seemingly noble thinker - because Count Keyserling always cited omnipotence in his writing - that is what is so impressive about Count Keyserling, that he always cites omnipotence. All present-day writing has reached a point where it is most mired and ragged. And despite the omnipotence, there is a complete moral decline of views here. And so people have to be told: Of course, nobody expects you to do Steiner source research either; but then, if you don't do any Steiner source research, if you don't have time, then – with regard to all these things about which you should know something: Shut up!

You see, it is necessary that we have no illusions, that we simply discard every conventional principle of authority and the like, that we face ourselves freely, really and truly examining what is present in our time. Then we will be able to notice quite a lot of it today.

I would certainly advise you to take a look at some of the sentences that the great Germanist Roethe in Berlin occasionally and repeatedly coins, purely in terms of form – I will completely disregard the view, which can certainly be respected. Then you will find it instructive. We do not need to be a fighting organization. But we must be ready and alert to take action when the things that are leading us so horribly into decline actually materialize. Do we need to be an organization of anthroposophical students to do that? We simply need to be alert, decent, and scientifically conscientious people, then we can always take a stand against such harm from our most absolute private point of view. And if we are also organized for positive work, then the number of those who are organized for it can stand behind us and support us. We need the latter. But it would not be very clever of us to present ourselves as a fighting organization. On the other hand, it is important that we really work seriously on improving our current conditions. And to do that, we first have to take note of the terrible damage that is coming to light in one field or another – and which really cannot be overlooked, because it involves enormous sums of money – and have the courage to take a stand against it in whatever way we can.

You have already done something if you can do just that: simply set the record straight for a small number of your fellow students with regard to such things, even if it happens only in the smallest of circles. Yesterday, I said to one of our members here with regard to the World School Association: I think it is particularly valuable, especially with regard to such things, to start by talking to one or two or three others, that is, to very small groups, even if there are only two of them; and, to put it quite radically, if someone cannot find anyone else, then at least say it to yourself! So these things are quite tangible in terms of what the individual is able to do. Some will be able to do much more, as has actually already happened with a doctor who was a member and whose fellow students proved to be very enthusiastic. The point is not to make enemies by appearing as fighting cocks in a wild form, but also not to shy away from the fight when others start it. That's it: we must always let the other start; and then the necessary help must stand behind us, which does not allow the tactic to arise, because it has arisen: that we would have started. If they start from the other side, then one is forced to defend oneself; and then you can always read that the anthroposophical side has used this or that in the fight as an attack and so on. They always turn the tables. That is the method of the opponents. We must not let that happen.

As for the World School Association, I would just like to say this: in my opinion, it would be best if the World School Association could be established independently of each other in Entente and neutral countries, but also in the German-speaking area of Central Europe. If it could happen at the same time, so that things could develop independently of each other, so to speak, it would be best. Of course, a certain amount of vigilance is required to see what happens. I believe that Switzerland, in particular, should mediate here. It would be good if we could do it right now. I can assure you: things are on a knife edge – and if the same possibilities for war existed today as existed in 1914, then we would have had war again long ago. Things are on a knife edge in terms of sentiment and so on. And we won't get something like this Weltschulverein (World School Association) off the ground if, for example, it is founded in Germany now, and then the others, for example, if only for a week, had to follow suit. It would simply not come about, it would be impractical to do so.

On the other hand, we must not allow any possibility of our in the least denying our position on these matters. This School of Spiritual Science is called the Goetheanum. We gave it this name during the World War, here and now. The other nations, insofar as they have participated in anthroposophy, have adopted the name and accepted it. We have never denied that we have reasons to call the School of Spiritual Science 'Goetheanum', and it would therefore not be good if in Germany things were allowed to appear as some kind of imitation from the other side.

So it would be a matter of proceeding in this regard — forgive the harsh word — a little less clumsily, of doing it a little more skillfully in the larger world cultural sense! Switzerland would now have to work with full understanding here. So it would actually have to be taken up simultaneously by Central Europe, by the Entente and by the neutral countries.

For the time being, I don't know whether it will take off in just one or two places. This morning I received the news that the committee, which was convened yesterday and which wanted to work so hard, went to bed a few minutes after yesterday's meeting left the hall; it was postponed until tonight. Whether they will meet tonight, we will wait and see. We have already had very strange experiences; and based on this knowledge, that we have already had the most diverse experiences, I have taken the liberty of speaking to you here about the fact that in the further course of the movement, the experiences made should be taken into account.

On the other hand, I am convinced that if the necessary strong impulse and proper enthusiasm can be found among our fellow students, especially for what I myself and other friends of mine have mentioned in the course of this lecture: enthusiasm for the truth – then things will work out.

I would like to say one more thing: I recently read an article from a feature page and I can assure you that what recently took place in Stuttgart is not the slightest bit an end, but only a beginning, and I can assure you that things will get much, much worse. I have often said this to our friends here – a very, very long time ago – and I recently read a piece from a feature page in which it says: “There are enough intellectual sparks that flash like lightning after the wooden mousetrap, there are plenty of sparks of intellectual fire, and it will take no little cleverness on Steiner's part to reconcile people and prevent a real spark of fire one day bringing the Dornach glory to an inglorious end.

I really do think that whatever must occur as a reaction against such action, which will grow ever stronger and stronger, will have to be better shaped and, above all, more energetically carried out. And I believe that you, my dear fellow students, need to let all your youthful enthusiasm flow in this direction, in what we have often mentioned here during this course: enthusiasm for the truth. Youthful enthusiasm for the truth has always been a very good impulse in the further development of humanity. May it be so in the near future through you in a matter that you recognize as good.

I have often characterized spiritual science, as it is meant here, in these lectures. It seeks to be a true continuation of the natural scientific world view, indeed of natural scientific research in general, in that it adds to those forces of the human soul that are used when man faces the external sensory world and uses his senses and mind to explore it, which is connected to the brain, that it adds to these forces, which are also used by all external science, those forces that lie dormant in the soul in ordinary life and in the work of ordinary science, but can be brought out of this soul, can be developed and thus enable the human being to relate in a living way to what, as spiritual laws and spiritual entities, interweaves and permeates the world, and to which man, with his innermost being, also belongs, belongs through those powers of his being that pass through birth and death, that are the eternal powers of his being. In its entire attitude, in its scientific attitude, this spiritual science wants to be a true successor of natural science. And that which distinguishes it from natural science and which has just been characterized must be present in it for the reason that, if one wants to penetrate into the spiritual world, one needs other powers for the spiritual world in the same way that natural science penetrates into the natural world. One needs the exposure of the cognitive faculty in the human soul, of cognitive powers attuned to the spiritual world.

Today, I want to show in particular that this spiritual science, as it is presented today as a starting point for the spiritual development of people in the future, is not brought out of spiritual life or placed in spiritual life by mere arbitrariness, but is firmly anchored in the most significant endeavors of German spiritual life, even if they have perhaps been forgotten due to the circumstances of modern times. And here we shall repeatedly and repeatedly encounter – and they must also be mentioned today, although I have repeatedly presented them in the lectures I have given here last winter and this winter – when we speak of the German people's greatest intellectual upsurge, of the actual summit of their intellectual life, we must repeatedly and repeatedly encounter the three figures: Fichte, Schelling and Hegel.

I took the liberty of characterizing Fichte, as he is firmly rooted in German intellectual life, in a special lecture in December. Today I would like to draw particular attention to the fact that Fichte, in his constant search for a fixed point within his own human interior, for a living center of human existence, is in a certain sense a starting point for endeavors in spiritual science. And at the same time — as was mentioned in particular in the Fichte lecture here — he is the spirit who, I might say, felt from a deep sense of what he had to say, as if through a dialogue with the German national spirit. I have pointed out how Fichte, in contrast to Western philosophy, for example, to the Western world view, is above all concerned with attaining a higher human conception of the world by revealing the human inner powers, the human soul powers. For Fichte, the human ego, the center of the human soul, is something that is constantly being created within the human being, so that it can never be lost to the human being, because the human being not only shares in the existence of this center of the human being, but also shares in the creative powers of this human being. And how does Fichte imagine that this creativity in man is anchored in the all-creative of the world? As the highest that man can attain to when he tries to immerse himself in that which weaves and lives in the world as the Divine-Spiritual. As such supreme spiritual-divine, Fichte recognizes that which is volitional, which, as world-will permeated by world-duty, pulses through and permeates everything, and with its current permeates the own human soul, but in this own human soul is now grasped not as being, but as creativity. So that when man expresses his ego, he can know himself to be one with the world-will at work in the world. The divine-spiritual, which the world, external nature, has placed before man, wants, as it were, to enter into the center of the human being. And man becomes aware of this inner volition, speaks of it as his self, as his ego.

And so Fichte felt himself to be at rest with his self, but at the same time, in this rest, extremely moved in the creative will of the world. From this he then draws the strength that he has applied throughout his life. From this he also draws the strength to regard all that is external and sensual, as he says, as a mere materialized tool for the duty of the human being that pulsates in his will. Thus, for Fichte, the truly spiritual is what flows into the human soul as volition. For him, the external world is the sensitized material of duty. And so we see him, how he wants to point out to people again and again throughout his life, to the source, to the living source of their own inner being.

In the Fichte lecture, I pointed out how Fichte stood before his audience, for example in Jena, and tried to touch each individual listener in their soul, so that they would become aware of how the All-Creative lives spiritually within. So he said to his listeners: “Imagine the wall!” Then the listeners looked at the wall and could think the wall. After they had thought the wall for a while, he said: “Now think of the one who thought the wall.” At first the listeners were somewhat perplexed. They were to grasp inwardly, spiritually, each within themselves. But at the same time, it was the way to point each individual to his own self, to point out to him that he can only grasp the world if he finds himself in his deepest inner being and there discovers how what the world wills flows into him and what rises in his own will as the source of his own being. Above all, one sees (and I do not wish to repeat myself today with regard to the lecture I gave here in December) how Fichte lives a world view of power. Therefore, those who listened to him — and many spoke in a similar way — could say: His words rushed “like a thunderstorm that discharges its fire in individual strikes”. And Fichte, by directly grasping the soul, wanted to bring the divine spiritual will that permeates the world, not just good will, to the soul; he wanted to educate great people. And so he lived in a living together of his soul with the world soul and regarded this precisely as the result of a dialogue with the German national spirit, and it was out of this consciousness that he found those powerful words with which he encouraged and strengthened his people in one of Germany's most difficult times. It was precisely out of this consciousness that he found the power to work as he was able to do in the “Speeches to the German Nation,” inspiring his people to a great extent.

Like Fichte's follower, Schelling stands there, especially in his best pages, one could say, like Fichte, more or less forgotten. If Fichte stands more as the man who wants to grasp the will, the will of the world, and let the will of the world roll forth in his own words, if this Fichte stands as the man who, so to speak, commands the concepts and ideas, then Schelling stands before us as he stood before his enthusiastic audiences – and there were many such, I myself knew people who knew the aged Schelling very well – he stands before us, not like Fichte, the commander of the world view, he stands before us as the seer, from whose eyes sparkled what he had to communicate enthusiastically in words about nature and spirit. He stood before his audience in Jena in the 1790s, at what was then the center of learning for the German people. He stood in Munich and Erlangen and Berlin in the 1840s. Everywhere he went, he radiated something of a seer, as if he were surrounded by spirituality and spoke from the realm of the spiritual.

To give you an idea of how such a figure stood in the former heyday of German intellectual life in front of people who had a sense for it, I would like to bring you some words about the lecture, which were written down by an audience member, by a loyal audience member because he met Schelling again and again: Gotthilf Heinrich Schubert. I would like to read to you the words that Schubert wrote about the way Schelling stood before his audience, “already as a young man among young men,” back in the 1790s in Jena. About this, Schubert, who was himself a deeply spiritual person, writes of a person who has wonderfully immersed himself in the secrets of nature, who tried to follow the mysterious weaving of the human soul into the dream world and into the abnormal phenomena of mental life, but who was also able to ascend to the highest heights of human intellectual life. This Schubert writes about Schelling:

Two things stand out in these words of the deep and spirited Schubert. The first is that he felt - and we know that it was the same with others who heard Schelling - that this man speaks from direct spiritual experience, he shapes his words by looking into a spiritual world and thus shapes a wisdom from direct spiritual experience that deals with this spiritual world.

That is the significance, the infinitely significant thing about this great period of German idealism, that countless people then standing on the outside of life heard personalities such as Fichte, such as Schelling and, as we shall see in a moment, Hegel, and from the words of these personalities heard the spirit speak, looked into the realm of these geniuses of the German people. Anyone who is familiar with the intellectual history of humanity knows that such a relationship between the spirit and the age existed only within the German people and could only exist within the German people because of the nature of the German people. This is a special result that is deeply rooted in the very foundations of the German character. That is one thing that can be seen from this.

The other thing is that, in this period, people were formed who, like Schubert, were able to ignite their own relationship to the spiritual world through these great, significant, impressive personalities. From such a state of soul, Schelling developed a thinking about nature and a thinking about soul and spirit that, one might say, bore the character of the most intimate life, but also bore the character of which one might say shows how man is prepared, with his soul, to descend into all being and, in all being, first of all into nature, and then into the spirit, to seek life, the direct life. Under the influence of this way of thinking, knowledge becomes something very special: knowledge becomes inner experience, becoming part of the experience of things.

I have said it again and again: It is not important to place oneself today in some dogmatic way on the ground of what these spirits have said in terms of content. One does not even have to agree with what they said in terms of content. What matters is the way of striving, the way in which they seek the paths into the spiritual world. Schelling felt so intimately connected — even if he expressed it one-sidedly — with what lives and moves in nature that he could once utter the saying, “To know nature is to create nature.” Certainly, in the face of such a saying, the shallow superficial will always be right in comparison to the genius who, like Schelling, utters such a saying from the depths of his being. Let us give the shallow superficialist the right, but let us be clear: even if nature can only be recreated in the human soul, in Schelling's saying, “To recognize nature is to create nature,” means an intimate interweaving of the whole human personality with natural existence. And for Schelling this becomes the one revelation of the divine-spiritual, and the soul of man the other revelation. They confront each other, they correspond to each other. The spirit first created itself in soulless nature, which gradually became ensouled from the plant kingdom to the animal kingdom and to man, as it were, creating the soil in which the soul can then flourish. The soul experiences the spiritual directly in itself, experiences it in direct reality.

How different it appears, when rightly understood, from the spiritual knowledge of nature which is striven for as the outcome, let us say, of Romance popularism. In the development of the German spirit there is no need to descend to the level of tone which the enemies of Germany have now reached when they wish to characterize the relation of the German spiritual life to other spiritual lives in Europe. One can remain entirely on the ground of fact. Therefore, what is to be said now is not said out of narrow national feelings, but out of fact itself. Compare such a desire to penetrate nature, as present in Schelling, where nature is to be grasped in such a way that the soul's own life is submerged in that which lives and moves outside. Compare this with what is characteristic of the Western world view, which reached its highest level with Descartes, Cartesius, at the beginning of the seventeenth century, but has been continued into our days and is just as characteristic of Western culture as Fichte's and Schelling's striving is for German culture. Like Fichte and Schelling later on, Cartesius also takes up a position in relation to the world of nature. He starts by taking the standpoint of doubt. He also seeks within himself a central point through which he can arrive at a certainty about the existence of the world and of life. His famous “Cogito, ergo sum” is well known: “I think, therefore I am.” What does he rely on? Not, like Fichte, on the living ego, from which one cannot take away its existence, because it is continually creating itself out of the world-will. He relies on thinking, which is supposed to be there already, on that which already lives in man: I think, therefore I am — which can easily be refuted with every night's sleep of man, because one can just as well say: I do not think, therefore I am not. Nothing fruitful follows from Descartes' “I think, therefore I am”. But how little this world view is suited to submerging into nature with one's own soul essence can best be seen from a single external characteristic. Descartes tried to characterize the nature surrounding the soul. And he himself sought to address the animals as moving machines, as soulless machines. Only man himself, he thought, could speak of himself as if he had a soul. The animals are moving machines, are soulless machines.

So little is the soul out of this folklore placed in the possibility of immersing itself in the inner life of the external thing that it cannot find inspiration within the animal world. No wonder that this continued until the materialism of the eighteenth century and continued - as we will mention today - until our own days, as in that materialism of the eighteenth century, in that material ism that conceived of the whole world only as a mechanism, and which finally realized, especially in de Lamettrie in his book “L'homme-machine”, even came to understand man himself only as a moving machine. All this is already present in germinal form in Cartesius.

Goethe, out of his German consciousness, became acquainted with this Western world view, and he spoke out of his German consciousness: They offer us a world of moving atoms that push and pull each other. If they then at least wanted to derive the manifold, the beautiful, the great, the sublime phenomena of the world from these atoms that push and pull each other. But after they have presented this bleak, desolate image of the world, they let it be presented and do nothing to show how the world emerges from these accumulations of atoms.

The third thinker who should be mentioned among those minds that, as it were, form the background of the world view from which everything that the German mind has achieved in that time through Goethe, Schiller, Herder, Lessing and so on has sprung, is Hegel. In him we see the third aspect of the German mind embodied at the same time. In him we see a third way of finding the point in the soul through which this human soul can feel directly one with the whole world, with that which, in a divine-spiritual way, pulses, weaves and permeates the world. If in Fichte we see the will grasping directly in the innermost part of man, and in Schelling, I might say, the mind, then in Hegel we see the human thought grasped. But in that Hegel attempts to grasp the thought not merely as human, but in its purity, detached from all sensual sensations and perceptions, directly in the soul, Hegel feels as if, in living in the living and breathing and becoming of pure thought, he also lives in the thought that not only lives in the soul, but that is only meant to appear in the soul, because it reveals itself in it, as divine-spiritual thinking permeating all of the world. Just as the divine spiritual beings scatter their thoughts throughout the world, as it were, thinking the world and continually fashioning it in thought, so it is revealed when the thinker, alone with himself, gives rise to pure thinking, thinking that is not borrowed from the external world of the senses but that the human being finds as thinking that springs up within him when he gives himself to his inner being. Basically, what Hegel wants, if one may say so, is a mystical will. But it is not an unclear, dark or nebulous mysticism. The dark, unclear or nebulous mysticism wants to unite with the world ground in the darkest feelings possible. Hegel also wants the soul to unite with the ground of the world, but he seeks this in crystal clarity, in the transparency of thinking; he seeks it in inner experience, he seeks it in the world of thoughts. In perfect clarity, he seeks for the soul that which is otherwise only believed in unclear mysticism.

All this shows how these three important minds are endeavoring from three different sides to bring the human soul to experience the totality of reality by devotion to the totality of reality, how they are convinced that something can be found in the soul that experiences the world in its depths and thus yields a satisfying world view.

Fichte speaks to his Berlin students in 1811 and 1813 about attaining such a world picture in such a way that it is clear that he is well aware that one must strive for certain powers of knowledge that lie dormant in the soul. Fichte then says to his Berlin students in the years mentioned: If one really wants to have that which must be striven for in order to truly and inwardly grasp the world spiritually, then it is necessary that the human being finds and awakens a slumbering sense, a new sense, a new sense organ, within himself. Just as the eye is formed in the physical body, so a new sense organ must be developed out of the soul in Fichte's sense, if we are to look into the spiritual world. That is why Fichte boldly says to his listeners in these years, when, as far as he could achieve it in his relatively short life, his world view has reached the highest peak: What I have to say to you is like a single seeing person entering a world of blind people. What he has to say to them about the world of light, the world of colors, initially affects them, and at first they will say it is nonsense because they cannot sense anything.

And Schelling - we can already see it in the saying that Schubert made about him - has drawn attention to intellectual intuition. What he coined in his words, for which he coined a wisdom, he sought to explore in the world by developing the organ within him into an “intellectual intuition”. From this intellectual intuition, Schelling speaks in such a way that he could have the effect that has just been characterized.

From his point of view, Hegel then opposed this intellectual view. He believed that to assert this intellectual view was to characterize individual exceptional people, people who, through a higher disposition, had become capable of looking into the spiritual world. Hegel, on the contrary, was thoroughly convinced that every human being is capable of looking into the spiritual world, and he wanted to emphasize this thoroughly.

Thus these minds were opposed to each other not only in the content of what they said, but they were also opposed to each other in such profound views. But that is not the point, but rather the fact that they all basically strive for what can truly be called spiritual science: the experience of the world through that which sits in the deepest part of man. And in this they are united with the greatest spirit who created out of German folkhood, with Goethe, as Fichte, Hegel and Schelling have often said.

Goethe speaks of this contemplative power of judgment in a beautiful little essay entitled “Contemplative Power of Judgment”. What does Goethe mean by this contemplative power of judgment? The senses initially observe the external physical world. The mind combines what this external physical world presents to it. When the senses observe the external physical world, they do not see the essence of things, says Goethe; this must be observed spiritually. In this process, the power of judgment must not merely combine; the concepts and ideas that arise must not merely arise in such a way that they seek to depict something else; something of the world spirit itself must live in the power that forms concepts and ideas. The power of judgment must not merely think; the power of judgment must look at, look spiritually, as the senses otherwise look. Goethe is completely at one with those who have, as it were, provided the background for the world view, just as they feel at one with him. Just as Fichte, for example, when he published the first edition of his seemingly so abstract Theory of Science, sent it to Goethe in sheets and wrote to him: “The pure spirituality of feeling that one sees in you must also be the touchstone for what we create.

A wonderful relationship of a spiritual kind exists between the three world-view personalities mentioned and minds such as Goethe; we could also cite Schiller, we could also cite Herder, we could cite them all, who in such great times drew directly from the depths of German national character.

It must be said that all that was created in Fichte, Schelling, Hegel, and in the others, contains something that is not fully expressed in any of them: Fichte seeks to recognize the spiritual world by experiencing the will as it flows into the soul; Schelling turns more to the mind, Hegel to the thought content of the world, others to other things. Above all of them, as it were, like the unity that expresses itself in three or so many different ways, hovers that which one can truly call the striving of the German national spirit itself, which cannot be fully expressed by any single personality, but which expresses itself as in three shades, for example, in relation to a world view in Fichte, Schelling and Hegel. Those who do not stand as dogmatic followers or opponents to these personalities – one could be beyond such childishness today, that one wants to be a follower or opponent of a spirit if one wants to understand it in its greatness – but have a heart and a mind and an open feeling for their striving, will discern everywhere, in all their expressions, something like the German national soul itself, so that what they say is always more powerful than what is directly expressed. That is the strange and mysterious thing about these minds. And that is why later, far less important personalities than these great, ingenious ones, were even able to arrive at more significant, more penetrating spiritual truths than these leading and dominant minds themselves. That is the significant thing: through these minds something is expressed that is more than these minds, that is the central German national spirit itself, which continues to work, so that lesser minds, far less talented minds, could come, and in these far less talented minds the same spirit is expressed, but even in a more spiritual scientific way than in Fichte, Schelling, Hegel themselves. They were the ones who first, I might say, set the tone and for the first time communicated something to the world, drawing it from the source of spiritual life. Even for geniuses, this is difficult. But once the great, powerful stimulus had been provided, lesser minds followed. And it must be said that these lesser minds in some cases captured the path into the spiritual worlds even more profoundly and meaningfully than those on whom they depended, who were their teachers.

Thus we see in Immanuel Hermann Fichte, the son of the great Johann Gottlieb Fichte, how he strives in his own way for a spiritual science, and in such a way that he seeks a higher human being in the sensual human being who stands before us, who is grasped by the outer senses and outer science , whom he calls an etheric human being, and in whom lie the formative forces for this physical human being, which are built up before the physical body receives its hereditary substance from the parents, and which are maintained as the sum of the formative forces when the physical body passes through the gate of death. Immanuel Hermann Fichte speaks of an ethereal human being, of an ethereal human being who is inwardly strengthened and filled with strength, who belongs to the eternal forces of the universe just as the human being here belongs to the physical forces of the hereditary current as a physical human being, probably because of his association with his father, who was a good educator for him.

And one would like to say: How carried to higher heights we find the Fichtean, the Schellingian striving in a man who has become little known, who almost belongs to the forgotten spirits of German intellectual life, but in whom is deeply rooted precisely what is the essence of the German national spirit - in Troxler. Troxler - who knows Troxler? And yet, what do we know of this Troxler? Under the influence of Schelling, in particular, he wrote his profound > Blicke in das Wesen des Menschen in 1811 and then gave his lectures on philosophy in 1834. These lectures are certainly not written in a piquant way, to use the foreign word for something foreign, but they are written in such a way that they show us: A person is speaking who does not just want to approach the world with the intellect, with which one can only grasp the finite, but one who wants to give the whole personality of the human being with all its powers to the world, so that this personality, when it immerses itself in the world's phenomena, brings with it a knowledge that is fertilized by the co-experience, by the most intimate co-experience with the being of the world. And Troxler knows something about the fact that among those powers of the soul that are initially turned towards external nature and its sensuality, higher spiritual powers live. And in a strange way, Troxler now seeks to elevate the spirit above itself. He speaks of a super-spiritual sense that can be awakened in man, of a super-spiritual sense that slumbers in man. What does Troxler mean by that? He means: The human spirit otherwise thinks only in abstract concepts and ideas that are dry and empty, mere images of the external world; but in the same force that lives in these abstract concepts and ideas, there also lives something that can be awakened by man as a spiritual being. Then he sees in supersensible images the way one can see external reality with the eyes. In ordinary cognition, the sensory image is present first, and the thought, which is not sensory-pictorial, is added in the process of cognition. In the spiritual process of cognition, the supersensible experience is present; this could not be seen as such if it did not pour itself through a power that is natural to the spirit into the image, which brings it to a spiritual-descriptive sensualization. For Troxler, such knowledge is that of the super-spiritual sense. And what this super-spiritual sense bypasses, Troxler calls the supersensible spirit, the spirit that rises above mere observation of the sensual, and which, as spirit, experiences what is out there in the world. How could I fail to mention to those esteemed listeners who heard a lecture like the one I gave on Friday two weeks ago that in this supersensible sense and supersensible spirit of Troxler, the germs — if only the germs, but nevertheless the germs — lie in what I had to characterize as the two paths into spiritual science,

But there is another way in which Troxler expresses it wonderfully. He says: When the human being is first placed in his physical body with his soul, with his eternal self, when he stands face to face with the moral, the religious, but also with the outer, immediate reality, then he develops three forces: faith, hope and love. These three forces, which he continues to develop, he develops in life within the physical-sensual body. It simply belongs to the human being, as he stands in the physical-sensual world, that he lives in faith, in love, in hope. But Troxler says: That which is proper to the soul of man here within the physical body as faith, as justified belief, is, so to speak, the outer expression of a deeper power that is within the soul, which, through this faith, shines into the physical world as a divine power. But behind this power of faith, which, in order to unfold, absolutely requires the physical body, lies supersensible hearing. This means that faith is, in a sense, what a person makes out of supersensible hearing. By making use of the sensory instrument for supersensible hearing, he believes. But if he frees himself from his sensory body and experiences himself in the soul, then the same power that becomes faith in the sensory life gives him supersensible hearing, through which he can delve into a world of spiritual sound phenomena through which spiritual entities and spiritual facts speak to him.

And the love that a person develops here in the physical body, which is the flowering of human life on earth, is the outer expression of a power that lies behind it: for spiritual feeling or touching, says Troxler. And when a person delves deeper into this same power, which lives here as the blossom of the moral earthly existence, of the religious earthly existence, when he delves deeper into this love, when he goes to the foundations of this love, then he discovers within himself that the spiritual man has organs of feeling through which he can touch spiritual beings and spiritual facts just as he can touch physical facts with his sensory organs of feeling or touching. Behind love lies spiritual feeling or touching, as behind faith lies spiritual hearing.

And behind the hope that a person has in this or that form lies spiritual vision, the insight through the spiritual sense of seeing into the spiritual world.

Thus, behind what a person experiences as the power of faith, love and hope, Troxler sees only the outer expression of higher powers: for spiritual hearing, for spiritual feeling, for spiritual beholding or seeing. And then he says: When a person can give himself to the world in such a way that he gives himself with his spiritual hearing, spiritual feeling, spiritual seeing, then not only do thoughts come to life in him that so externally and abstractly reflect the external world, but, as Tro “sensible thoughts”, thoughts that can be felt themselves, that is, that are living beings, and ‘intelligent feelings’, that is, not just dark feelings in which one feels one's own existence in the world, but something through which the feelings themselves become intelligent. We know from the lecture just mentioned that it is actually the will, not the feelings; but in Troxler there is definitely the germ of everything that can be presented in spiritual science today. When a person awakens to this seeing, to this hearing and sensing of the spiritual world, when in this feeling a life of thought awakens through which the person can connect with the living thought that weaves and lives in the spiritual world, just as thought lives in us essentially, not just abstractly. Troxler feels his striving for spiritual science so deeply. And I would like to read a passage from Troxler from which you can see just how profound this striving was for Troxler. He once said:

"In the past, philosophers distinguished a fine, noble soul body from the coarser body, or assumed that the soul was a kind of covering for the face within this body, that the soul had an image of the body, which they called a schema, and that the soul was the higher inner man... In more recent times, even Kant in Dreams of a Spirit-Seer seriously dreams, in jest, an entire inward, spiritual man who carries all the limbs of the outward on his spirit body."

Troxler then draws attention to others who have more or less sensed this other side of the nature of the world from the depths of German spiritual endeavor. Troxler continues:

"Lavater writes and thinks in the same way, and even when Jean Paul makes humorous jokes about Bonnet's undergarment and Platner's soul corset, which are said to be , we also hear him asking: What is the purpose and origin of these extraordinary talents and desires within us, which, like swallowed diamonds, slowly cut our earthly shell? Why was I stuck to this dirty lump of earth, a creature with useless wings of light, when I was supposed to rot back into the birth clod without ever wriggling free with ethereal wings?"

Troxler draws attention to such currents in German intellectual life. And then he comes up with the idea that a special science could now arise from this, a science that is a science but that has something in common with poetry, for example, in that it arises from the human soul, in that not a single power of the soul, but the whole human soul, surrenders itself in order to experience the world together with others.

If you look at people from the outside, Troxler says, you get to know anthropology. Anthropology is what arises when you examine with the senses and with the mind what the human being presents and what is revealed in the human being. But with this one does not find the full essence of the human being. What Troxler calls in the characterized sense, spiritual hearing, spiritual feeling, spiritual seeing, what he calls supersensible spirit, superspiritual sense, that is part of it, in order to see something higher in the human being. A science stands before his soul, which does not arise out of the senses, not out of mere intellect, but out of this higher faculty of knowledge in the human being. And Troxler speaks very characteristically about this science in the following way. He says - Troxler's following words were written in 1835 -:

"If it is highly gratifying that the newest philosophy, which we have long recognized as the one that founds all living religion and must reveal itself in every anthroposophy, thus in poetry as well as in history, is now making headway, it cannot be overlooked, that this idea cannot be a true fruit of speculation, and that the true personality or individuality of man must not be confused either with what it sets up as subjective spirit or finite ego, nor with what it confronts with as absolute spirit or absolute personality.

In the 1830s, Troxler became aware of the idea of anthroposophy, a science that seeks to be a spiritual science based on human power in the truest sense of the word. Spiritual science can, if it is able to correctly understand the germs that come from the continuous flow of German intellectual life, say: Among Western peoples, for example, something comparable to spiritual science, something comparable to anthroposophy, can indeed arise; but there it will always arise in such a way that it runs alongside the continuous stream of the world view, alongside what is there science, and therefore very, very easily becomes a sect or a sectarianism. , but it will always arise in such a way that it runs alongside the continuous stream of world view, alongside what is science there, and therefore very, very easily tends towards sectarianism or dilettantism. In German spiritual life — and in this respect German spiritual life stands alone — spiritual science arises as something that naturally emerges from the deepest impulses, from the deepest forces of this German spiritual life. Even when this German spiritual life becomes scientific with regard to the spiritual world and develops a striving for spiritual knowledge, the seeds of what must become spiritual science already lie in this striving. Therefore, we never see what flows through German intellectual life in this way die away.

Or is it not almost wonderful that in 1856 a little book was published by a pastor from Waldeck? He was a pastor in Sachsenberg in Waldeck. In this little book – as I said, the content is not important, but the striving – an attempt is made, in a way that is completely opposed to Hegel, to find something for the human soul, through which this human soul, by awakening the power slumbering in it, can join the whole lofty awakening spiritual world. And this is admirably shown by the simple pastor Rocholl in Sachsenberg in the Principality of Waldeck in his little book: 'Contributions to the History of German Theosophy' — a small booklet, but full of real inner spiritual life, of a spiritual life in which one can see that one who has sought it in his solitude finds everywhere the possibility of rising from the lonely inner experience of the soul to broad views of the world that are hidden behind the sensual one and yet always carry this sensual one, so that one has only one side of the world when one looks at this sensual life. One does not know what one should admire first in such a little book, which must certainly make a fantastic impression today – but that is not the point; whether one should admire more the fact that the simple country pastor found his way into the deepest depths of spiritual endeavor, or whether one should admire the foundations of the continuous flow of German intellectual life, which can produce such blossoms even in the simplest person. And if we had time, I could give you hundreds and hundreds of examples from which you would see how, admittedly not in the field of outwardly recognized, but more in the field of forgotten spiritual tones, but nevertheless vividly surviving spiritual tones, are present everywhere in such people who carry forward to our days what can be called a spiritual-scientific striving within the development of German thought.

As early as the first edition of my World and Life Views, which appeared more than a year and a half ago under the title of Riddles of Philosophy, I called attention to a little-known thinker, Karl Christian Planck. But what good did it do to call attention to such spirits, at least initially? Such spirits are more tangible as an expression, as a revelation of what is now alive, what is not expressed in the scientific activity in question, but nevertheless supports and sustains this scientific activity in many ways. Such spirits arise precisely from the deepest depths of the German character, of which Karl Christian Planck is one. Planck has written a book entitled 'Truth and shallowness of Darwinism', a very important book. He has also written a book about the knowledge of nature. I will mention only the following from this book, although basically every page is interesting:

When people talk about the earth today, they talk, I would say, in a geological sense. The earth is a mineral body to them, and man walks on it as an alien being. For Planck, the Earth, with everything that grows on it and including man, is a great spiritual-soul organism, and man belongs to it. One has simply not understood the Earth if one has not shown how, in the whole organism of the Earth, the physical human being must be present in that his soul is outwardly embodied. The earth is seen as a whole, all its forces, from the most physical to the most spiritual, are grasped as a unity. Planck wants to establish a unified world picture, which is spiritual, to use Goethe's expression. But Planck is aware – in this respect he is one of the most characteristic thinkers of the nineteenth century – of how what he is able to create really does emerge from the very depths of the German national spirit. He expresses this in the following beautiful words in his essay 'Grundlinien einer Wissenschaft der Natur' (Foundations of a Science of Nature), which appeared in 1864:

“He is fully aware of the power of deeply rooted prejudices against his writing, stemming from previous views. But just as the work itself, despite all the unfavorable circumstances that arose from the author's overall situation and professional position,” namely, he was a simple high school teacher, not a university professor — “a work of this kind was opposed, but its realization and its way into the public has fought, then he is also certain that what must now first fight for its recognition will appear as the simplest and most self-evident truth, and that in it not only his cause, but the truly German view of things, will triumph over all still unworthy external and un-German views of nature and spirit.

What our medieval poetry has already unconsciously and profoundly foreshadowed will finally be fulfilled in our nation in the maturity of the times. The impractical inwardness of the German spirit, which has been afflicted with harm and ridicule (as Wolfram von Eschenbach describes it in his “Parzival”)” - this was written in 1864, long before Wagner's ‘Parsifal’! “Finally, in the strength of its unceasing striving, it attains the highest, it gets to the bottom of the last simple laws of things and of human existence itself; and what poetry has symbolized in a fantastically medieval way in the wonders of the Grail, the mastery of which is attained by its hero, conversely receives its purely natural fulfillment and reality in the lasting knowledge of nature and of spirit itself.

Thus speaks he who then gave the summary of his world picture under the title “The Will of a German”, in which an attempt is really made, again at a higher level than was possible for Schelling, to penetrate nature and spirit. In 1912, this “The Will of a German” was published in a new edition. I do not think that many people have studied it. Those who deal with such things professionally had other things to do: the books by Bergson, by that Bergson — his name is still Bergson! who has used the present time not only to revile but also to slander in the truest sense what has emerged from German intellectual life; who has managed to describe the entire current intellectual culture of the Germans as mechanistic. I have said here before: when he wrote that the Germans have descended from the heights on which they stood under Goethe, Schiller, Herder, Schelling and Hegel, and that now they are creating a mechanical culture, he probably believed that the Germans, when they march up with cannons, would declaim Novalis or Goethe's poems to their opponents! But from the fact that he now only sees—or probably does not see—guns and rifles, he makes German culture into a completely mechanistic one.

Now, just as the other things I have been saying during this period have been said again and again in the years before the war, and also to members of other nations – so that they must not be understood as having been prompted by the situation of war – I tried to present Bergson's philosophy in the book that was completed at the beginning of the war, the second edition of my “Weltund Lebensanschauungen” (World and Life Views). And in the same book I pointed out how, I might say, one of the most brilliant ideas in Bergson's work, infinitely greater, more incisive and profound — here again we have such a forgotten 'tone of German intellectual life' — had already appeared in 1882 in the little-known Wilhelm Heinrich Preuss. At one point in his books, Bergson draws attention to the fact that when considering the world, one should not start with the mineral kingdom and then the plant and animal kingdoms, and only then include man in them, but rather start with man; how man is the is original and the other entities in the continuous flow, in which he developed while he was the first, has rejected the less perfect, so that the other natural kingdoms have developed out of the human kingdom.

In my book Rätseln der Philosophie (Mysteries of Philosophy), I pointed out how the lonely, deep thinker, but also energetic and powerful thinker, Wilhelm Heinrich Preuss, in his book Geist und Stoff (Mind and Matter), and basically in fact, even earlier than 1882, this idea in a powerful, courageous way, - the idea that one cannot get along with Darwinism understood in a purely Western sense, but that one has to imagine: if you go back in the world, you first have the human being. The human being is the original, and as the human being develops further, he expels certain entities, first the animals, then the plants, then the minerals. That is the reverse course of development.

I cannot go into this in detail today – I have even dealt with this idea several times in lectures from previous years – but I would like to mention today that this spiritual worldview is fully represented in the German spiritual movement of the 1880s in the book by Preuss, 'Geist und Stoff' (Spirit and Matter). I would like to read to you a key passage from my book “The Riddles of Philosophy” so that you can see how a powerful world view, which is part of the whole current that I have characterized for you today, flows into the spiritual life of humanity in weighty words. Preuss says:

The center of this new doctrine is man, the only species on our planet that recurs: Homo sapiens. It is strange that the older observers started with natural objects and then went so astray that they could not find the way to man, which Darwin only managed in the most miserable and thoroughly unsatisfactory way by seeking the progenitor of the Lord of Creation among the animals, while the naturalist should start with himself as a human being, and thus gradually return to humanity through the whole realm of being and thinking! It was not by chance that human nature emerged from the evolution of all earthly things, but by necessity. Man is the goal of all telluric processes, and every other form emerging alongside him has borrowed its traits from his. Man is the first-born being of the whole cosmos... When his germs had emerged, the remaining organic residue no longer had the necessary strength to produce further human germs. What emerged was animal or plant...

In 1882, what the human soul can experience spiritually, presented within German intellectual life! Then Bergson comes along and by no means presents the thought in such a powerful, penetrating way, connected with the innermost life of the soul, but, one might say, in a slightly pursed, mincing, more and more indeterminate way. And people are overwhelmed by Bergson and do not want to know about Preuss. And Bergson apparently knows nothing about Preuss. But that is about as bad for someone who writes about worldviews as it would be if he knew about it and did not say anything. But we do not want to examine whether Bergson knew and did not say, or whether he did not know, now that it has been sufficiently proven that Bergson not only borrowed ideas from Schopenhauer and expressed them in his own words, but also took ideas from the entire philosophy of German idealism, for example Schelling and Fichte, and seems to consider himself their creator. It is indeed a special method of characterizing the relationship of one people to another, as Bergson now continually does to his French counterparts, by presenting German science and German knowledge as something particularly mechanical, after he has previously endeavored - which is probably not a very mechanical activity - to describe these German world-view personalities over pages. After a while, one realizes that Bergson could have kept silent altogether if he had not built his world view on the foundations of the German world view personalities, which is basically nothing more than a Cartesian mechanism, the mechanism of the eighteenth century, warmed up by a somewhat romantically understood Schellingianism and Schopenhauerianism.

As I said, one must characterize things appropriately; for it must be clear to our minds that when we speak of the relationship of the German character in the overall development of humanity, we do not need to adopt the same method of disparaging other nationalities that is so thoroughly used by our opponents today. The German is in a position to point out the facts, and he will now also gain strength from the difficult trials of the present time to delve into the German soul, where he has not yet succeeded. The forgotten sides of the striving for spiritual science will be remembered again. I may say this again and again, after having endeavored for more than thirty years to emphasize another side of the forgotten striving of German knowledge.

From what has emerged entirely from the British essence of knowing directed only at the outside world, we have the so-called Newtonian color theory. And the power of the British essence, not only externally but also internally, spiritually, is so great that this Newtonian color theory has taken hold of all minds that think about such things. Only Goethe, out of that nature which can be won from German nationality, has rebelled against Newton's theory of colours in the physical field. Certainly, Newton's theory of colours is, I might say, in one particular chapter, what de Lamettrie's L'Homme-Machine can be for all shallow superficial people in the world. Only the case with the theory of colours is particularly tragic. For 35 years, as I said, I have been trying to show the full significance of Goethe's Theory of Colours, the whole struggle of the German world-view, as it appears in Goethe with regard to the world of colour, against the mechanistic view rooted in British folklore with Newton. The chapter 'Goethe versus Newton' will also come into its own when that which lives on in a living, active way, even if not always consciously, comes more and more to the fore and can be seen by anyone who wants to see. And it will come to the fore, precisely as a result of the trials of our time, the most intimate awareness of the German of the depth of his striving for knowledge.

It is almost taken for granted, and therefore as easy to grasp as all superficially taken for granted things, when people today say: science is of course international. The moon is also international! Nevertheless, what individuals have to say about the moon is not at all international. When Goethe traveled, he wrote back to his German friends: “After what I have seen of plants and fish near Naples and in Sicily, I would be very tempted, if I were ten years younger, to make a journey to India, not to discover anything new, but to look at what has been discovered in my way.” Of course, science is international. It is not easy to refute the corresponding statements, because they are self-evident, as everything superficial is self-evident. But as I said, it is also international like the moon. But what the individual nations have to say about what is international from the depths, from the roots of their national character, that is what is significant and also what is effective in furthering the development of humanity from the way in which the character of each individual nation relates to what can be recognized internationally. That is what matters.

To this day, however, it cannot be said that precisely that which, in the deepest sense, represents the German character has made a significant impression on the path of knowledge in the period that followed. Within the German character itself, Fichte, Schelling and Hegel initially had such a great effect that posterity was stunned and that it initially produced only one or the other, one or the other side, that even un-German materialism was able to gain a foothold within the German spiritual life. But it is particularly instructive to see how that which is primordially German works in other nationalities when it is absorbed into them. And Schelling, for example, is primordially German. Schelling has had a great effect, for example within Russian spiritual life. Within Russian spiritual life, we see how Schelling is received, how his powerful views of nature, but especially of history – the Russian has little sense of the view of nature – are received. But we also see how precisely the essentials, what matters, cannot be understood at all in the east of Europe. Yes, it is particularly interesting – and you can read more about this in my writing “Thoughts During the Time of War” – how this eastern part of Europe in the nineteenth century gradually developed a complete rejection of precisely the intellectual life not only of Central Europe, but even of Western Europe. And one gets an impression of German intellectual life when one sees how this essential, which I have tried to bring out today, this living with the soul in the development of nature and the spirit, cannot be understood in the East, where things are accepted externally. In the course of the nineteenth century, consciousness has swollen terribly in the East, especially among intellectuals – not among the peasants, of course, who know little about war even when they are waging it. The intellectual life of the East is, however, a strange matter. I have already explained it: Slavophilism appears in the first half of the nineteenth century, in the 1830s, precisely fertilized by Fichte, Schelling and Hegel; but it appears in such a way that Fichte, Schelling and Hegel are only taken superficially , quite superficially, so that one has no inkling of how Fichte, Schelling and Hegel — the tools of the will, of the soul, of thinking — actually live objectively together with what outwardly interweaves and lives through the world. And so it could come about that this Russian element, which in terms of its sense of knowledge still lived deeply in medieval feeling, took up Fichte, Schelling and Hegel in such a way that an almost megalomaniacal view of the nineteenth century, which in literary and epistemological terms is really a kind of realization of Peter the Great's Political Testament, whether falsified or not.

What did they know about the German world view over there! In one of my recent lectures, I showed how Goethe's “Faust” truly grows out of what we, once again, can allow to affect our souls as a German world view. But we have only to hear Pissarew — who as a Russian spirit is deeply influenced by Goethe — speak about Goethe's Faust, and we shall see how it is impossible not to understand what is most characteristic and most essential to the German national soul. Pissarew says, for example: “The small thoughts and the small feelings had to be made into pearls of creation” - in “Faust he means the small thoughts, the human feelings that only concern people! “Goethe accomplished this feat, and similar feats are still considered the greatest victory of art; but such hocus-pocus is done not only in the sphere of art, but also in all other spheres of human activity."

It is an interesting chapter in the history of ideas that in the case of minds such as Ivan Vasilyevich Kireevsky or Khomyakov, for example, precisely that which lives great and significant as inwardness, but as clear inwardness, dark and nebulous sentimentalism, has continued to live in such minds and we could cite a long line right up to the present day, precisely from Russian ideological minds - how in this Russian ideological mind the conviction has generally formed: that which lives to the west of us is an aged culture, a culture that has outlived itself; it is ripe for extinction. The Russian essence is there, that must replace what is in Central Europe and they also meant Western Europe in the nineteenth century, especially England - what is in England.

This is not something I have picked out at one point or another, but it is a consistent feature of Russian intellectual life, which characterizes those who matter, who set the tone. In Kireyevsky's work, this intensifies around 1829 to a saying that I will read in a moment, and one will see from such a saying that what is heard today from the East did not just arise today, but that it is deeply rooted in what has gradually accumulated in this East.

But before that, I want to cite something else. The whole thing starts with Slavophilism, with a seemingly scientific and theoretical focus on the importance of the Russian people, who must replace an old and decrepit Europe, degenerating into nothing but abstract concepts and cold utilitarian ideas. Yes, as I said, this is something that is found again and again in Russian intellectual life. But where does this Slavophilism actually come from? How did these people in the East become aware of what they later repeated in all its variations: the people in Central and Western Europe have become depraved, are decrepit; they have managed to eliminate all love, all feeling from the heart and to live only in the mind, which leads to war and hatred between the individual peoples. In the Russian Empire, love lives, peace lives, and so does a science that arises from love and peace. Where do these people get it from? From the German Weltanschauung they have it! Herder is basically the first Slavophile. Herder first expressed this, which was justified in his time, which is also justified when one looks at the depth of the national character, which truly has nothing to do with today's war and with all that has led to this war. But one can point out that which has led to the megalomania among the so-called intellectuals: We stand there in the East, everything over there is old, everything is decrepit, all of it must be exterminated, and in its place must come the world view of the East.

Let us take to heart the words of Kirejewski. He says in 1829: “The fate of every European state depends on the union of all the others; the fate of Russia depends on Russia alone. But the fate of Russia is decided in its formation: this is the condition and source of all goods. As soon as all these goods will be ours, we will share them with the rest of Europe, and we will repay all our debts to it a hundredfold.”

Here we have a leading man, a man repeatedly lionized by the very minds that have more often than not rejected the ongoing development of Russian intellectual life. Here we have it stated: Europe is ripe for destruction, and Russian culture must replace it. Russian culture contains everything that is guaranteed to last. Therefore, we are appropriating everything. And when we have everything, well then we will be benevolent, then we will share with the others in a corresponding manner. That is the literary program, already established in 1829 within Russian humanity by a spirit, in whose immaturity, in whose sentimentality even Fichte, Schelling and Hegel have worked.

There is a remarkable conception in the East in general. Let me explain this in conclusion. For example, in 1885 an extraordinary book was published by Sergius Jushakow, an extraordinary book, as I said. Jushakow finds that Russia has a great task. In 1885, he finds this task even more directed towards Asia. Over there in Asia, he believes, live the descendants of the ancient Iranians – to which he also counts the Indians, the Persians – and the ancient Turanians. They have a long cultural life behind them, have brought it to what is evident in them today. In 1885, Yushakov said that Westerners had intervened in this long cultural life, intervening with what they could become from their basic feelings and from their worldview. But Russia must intervene in the right way.

A strange Pan-Asiaticism, expressed by Yushakov in a thick book in 1885 as part of his program! He says: “These Asiatic peoples have presented their destiny in a beautiful myth—which is, however, true. There are the Iranian peoples over there who fought against Ahriman, as Jusakhov says, against the evil spirit Ahriman, who causes infertility and drought and immorality, everything that disturbs human culture. They joined forces with the good spirit Ormuzd, the god of light, the spirit that gives everything that promotes people. But after the Asians had received the blessings of Ormuzd within their spiritual life for a while, Ahriman became more powerful. But what did the European peoples of the West bring to the Asians, according to Jushakow? And that is quite interesting. Yushakov argues that the peoples of the West, with their cultural life, which in his view is degenerate and decrepit, have crossed over to Asia to the Indians and the Persians, and have taken from them everything that Ormuzd, the good Ormuzd, has fought for. That is what the peoples of the West were there for. Russia will now cross over to Asia – it is not I who say this, but the Russian Yushakov – because in Russia, rooted in a deep culture, is the alliance between the all-fertility-developing peasant and the all-chivalry-bearing — as I said, it is not I who say it, Yushakov says it — and from the alliance of the peasant and the Cossack, which will move into Asia, something else will arise than what the Western peoples have been able to bring to the Asians. The Western peoples have taken the Ormuzd culture from the Asians; but the Russians, that is, the peasants and the Cossacks, will join forces with poor Asia, which has been enslaved by the Westerners, and will fight with it against Ahriman and will unite completely with it. For what the Asians, under the leadership of Ormuzd, have acquired as a coming together with nature itself, the Russians will not take away from them, but will join with them to fight against Ahriman once more.

And in 1885, this man describes in more detail how these Western peoples actually behaved towards the Asian people plagued by Ahriman. He does not describe the Germans, for which he would have had little reason at the time, but he, Yushakov, the Russian, describes the English. And he says of the English that, after all they have been through, they believe that the Asian peoples are only there to clothe themselves in English fabrics, fight among themselves with English weapons, work with English tools, eat from English vessels and play with English baubles. And further, in 1885, Yushakov said: “England exploits millions of Hindus, but its very existence depends on the obedience of the various peoples who inhabit the rich peninsula; I do not wish anything similar for my fatherland – I can only rejoice that it is sufficiently far removed from this state of affairs, which is as glorious as it is sad.”

It is likely that these sentiments, which were not only expressed by Jushakow in 1885, but also by many others, led to Russia initially not allying itself with the Asians to help them against Ahr Ahriman, but that it first allied itself with the “so brilliant as it is sad state” of England in order to trample the “aged”, “marshy” Europe into the ground.

What world history will one day see in this ring closing around Central Europe can be expressed quite simply. One need only mention a few figures. These few figures are extremely instructive because they are reality. One day, history will raise the question, quite apart from the fact that this present struggle is the most difficult, the most significant, the greatest that has occurred in the development of human history, quite apart from the fact that it is merely a matter of the circumstances of the figures: How will it be judged in the future that 777 million people are closing in on 150 million people? 777 million people in the so-called Entente are closing in on 150 million people and are not even expecting the decision to come from military valor, but from starvation. That is probably the better part of valor according to the views of 777 million people! There is no need to be envious about the soil in which a spiritual life developed as we have described it, because the figures speak for themselves. The 777 million people live on 68 million square kilometers, compared to 6 million square kilometers on which 150 million people live. History will one day take note of the fact that 777 million people live on 68 million square kilometers, ring-shaped against 150 million people on 6 million square kilometers. The German only needs to let this fact speak in this as well as in other areas, which prevents one from falling into one-sided national shouting and ranting and hate-filled speech, into which Germany's enemies fall.

I do not want to talk now about those areas that do not belong here and that will be decided by weapons. But we see all too clearly how, today, what one wants to cherish and carry as German culture is really enclosed, lifted up above the battlefield of weapons, enclosed by hatred and slander, by real slander , not only hatred; how our sad time of trial is used to vilify and condemn precisely that which has to be placed in world history, in the overall development of mankind, in this way. For what is it, actually, that confronts us in this German intellectual life with all its conscious and forgotten tones? It is great because it is the second great flowering of insight and the second great flowering of art in the history of humanity. The first great flowering of art was Greek culture. At the turn of the eighteenth to the nineteenth century, the development of Germany produced a flowering of which even a mind like Renan said, when, after absorbing everything else, he became acquainted with the development of Germany in Goethe and Herder: “I felt as if I were entering a temple, and from that moment everything that I had previously considered worthy of the divinity seemed to me no more than withered and yellowed paper flowers.” What German intellectual life has achieved, says Renan, comparing it with the other, is like differential calculus compared to elementary mathematics. Nevertheless, on the same page on which he wrote these words to David Friedrich Strauß, Renan points to that current in France which, in the event of the loss of Alsace-Lorraine, called for a “destructive struggle against the Germanic race”. This letter was written in 1870.

This German intellectual life has been recognized time and again. But today it must be misunderstood. For how else could the words be found that are spoken in the ring that surrounds us!

If we look across, not with Yushakov's eyes, but with unbiased eyes, to Asia, we see a human culture that has grown old, that also strove for knowledge, but that strove for knowledge according to an old, pre-Christian way. There, the ego is sought to be subdued in order to merge into the universe, into Brahman or Atman, with the extinction of the ego. This is no longer possible. Now that the greatest impulse in human history, the Christ impulse, has become established in human history, the ego itself must be elevated, strengthened, not subdued as in Oriental spiritual life, but on the contrary, strengthened in order to connect as an ego with the spiritual-divine in the world, which pulsates and weaves and lives through the world. That is the significant thing, how this is again shining forth in the German spiritual striving. And this, which is unique and which must be incorporated as one of the most essential tones in the overall development of humanity, is what is coming to life in the 6 million square kilometers, compared to the 68 million square kilometers. This fact must be obscured from those who, as I said, do not fight with weapons, but who fight with words and slander this Central European spiritual life. They must cover this fact with fog. They must not see it. But we must admit it to ourselves, we must try to explain to ourselves how it is possible that these people can be so blinded as to fail to recognize the very depth of this connection of one's own soul with the spiritual life outside in the world.

Boutroux, who traveled around here in Germany for a short time before the war and even spoke at universities about the spiritual brotherhood of Germany and France, now tells his French audience how the Germans want to grasp everything inwardly. He even makes a joke: if a Frenchman wants to get to know a lion or a hyena, he goes to the menagerie. If an Englishman wants to get to know a lion or a hyena, he goes on a world tour and studies all the things related to the lion or the hyena on the spot. The German neither goes to the menagerie nor on a journey, but withdraws into his room, goes into his inner self, and from that inner self he creates the lion or the hyena. That is how he conceives of inwardness. It is a joke. One must even say that it is perhaps a good joke. The French have always made good jokes. It's just a shame that this joke is by Heinrich Heine, and Boutroux has only repeated it.

But now, when you see how these people want to cloud their minds, you come up with a few things. You wonder: How do these people, according to their nationality, seek to delude themselves about what German nature actually is? For the Russians, it must always be a new mission. I have also described this in my booklet: “Thoughts during the time of war”. They must be given the opportunity to replace Western European culture, Central European culture, because it is the destiny of the Russian people – so they say in the East, anyway – to replace the abstract, purely intellectual culture built on war with a Russian culture built on the heart, on peace, on the soul. That is the mission.

The English – one would not want to do them an injustice, truly, one would like to remain completely objective, because it really does not befit the Germans to speak in a one-sided way based solely on national feelings. That should not happen at all; but when one hears, as in the very latest times in England, declaiming that the Germans live by the word: “might is right,” then one must still remind them that there is a philosophy by Thomas Hobbes, an English philosophy, in which it is first proved in all its breadth that law has no meaning if it does not arise from power. Power is the source of law. That is the whole meaning of Hobbes's doctrine. After it has been said from an authorized position - there is also an unauthorized authorized position, but it is still an authorized position in the outside world - that the Germans live by the rule “might makes right”, that they have have come far by acting according to the principle “might is right,” I do not believe that one is being subjective when one objects that this is precisely an English principle that has become deeply ingrained in the Englishman. Yes, one can well say: they need a new lie. And that will hardly be anything other than a terminus technicus.

The French – what are they deluding themselves with? They are the ones we would least like to wrong. And so let us take the word of one of their own poets, Edmond Rostand. The cock, the crowing cock, plays a major role in Edmond Rostand's play. He crows when the sun rises in the morning. Gradually, he begins to imagine that the sun could not rise if it were not for him crowing, causing the sun to rise. One has become accustomed – and that is probably also Rostand's idea – to the fact that nothing can happen in the world without France. One has only to recall the age of Louis XIV and all that was French until Lessing, Goethe, Schiller and others emancipated themselves from it, and one can already imagine how the conceit arises: Ah, the sun cannot rise if I do not crow for it. Now, one needs a new conceit.

Italy – I heard a not insignificant Italian politician say before the war: Yes, our people have basically reached a point, so relaxed, so rotten, that we need a refresher, we need something to invigorate us. A new sensation, then! This is expressed in the fact that the Italians, in order to dull their senses, have invented something particularly new and unprecedented: a new saint, namely, Sacro Egoismo, Holy Egoism. How often has it been invoked before Italy was driven into the war, holy egoism! So, a new saint, and his hierophant: Gabriele d'Annunzio. Today, no one can yet gauge how this new saint, Sacro Egoismo and its hierophant, its high priest, Gabriele d'Annunzio, will live on in history!

On the other hand, we can remain within the German spirit and consider what is truly interwoven with this German spirit and what was unanimously felt by the Germans of Austria and Germany, on this side and on the other side of the Erz Mountains, as the German people's – not in the Russian sense of mission, but in the very ordinary sense – world-historical mission. And here I may well conclude with the words to which I have already drawn attention when, speaking of the commonality of Austrian intellectual culture with German, I also spoke of Robert Hamerling. In 1862, when he wrote his “Germanenzug”, the future of the German people lay before Robert Hamerling, the German poet of Austria, which he wanted to express by having the genius of the German people express it, when the Germanic people move over from Asia as the forerunners of the Germans. They settle on the border between Asia and Europe. Robert Hamerling describes the scene beautifully: the setting sun, the rising moon. The Teutons are encamped. Only one man is awake, the blond youth Teut. A genius appears to him. This genius speaks to Teut, in whom Robert Hamerling seeks to capture the representative of the later Germans. Beautifully he expresses:

To whom will the word break out of the depths of the soul
As your people, so rich, so delicate, so powerful?
Who breathes so solemnly into the strings
His innermost being? To whom do the senses draw so magnificently
Into the blue of heaven, granite hieroglyphics
Of the soul's upsurge and the narrowness of life?
Who finally ties the strands
of the searching thought to the stars
so boldly and strives and fights on all paths?
Whom leads so high, so deep his urge, his foreboding?
Who grasps the near and the far so faithfully?
Where does every earthly and heavenly zone
reflect itself as in your thinking, O Teuton?

And what once lived over there in Asia, what the Germans brought with them from Asia like ancestral heritage, it stands before Robert Hamerling's soul. It stands before his soul, what was there like a looking into the world in such a way that the ego is subdued, the corporeality is subdued, in order to see what the world is living through and weaving through, but what must emerge in a new form in the post-Christian era, in the form that it speaks out of the fully conscious ego, out of the fully conscious soul. This connection with the ancient times in the striving of the German people for the spirit, how beautifully Robert Hamerling expresses it:

But however proudly you aspire, high above other swarms, you will always keep the ancient, sacred fire: the dream-filled, drunken rapture of God, the blessed warmth of heart of the ancient Asian homeland. This holy ray, a temple fire of This holy ray, a temple fire
Of humanity, free of smoke, with pure flame
Glow away in your chest and soul mate
You remain and pilot your rudder!
You only strive because you love: your boldest thinking
Will be devotion that wants to sink into God.

Thus the German-Austrian poet connects the distant past with the immediate present. And indeed, it has emerged from this beautiful striving of the German soul, which we have tried to characterize today, that all knowledge, all striving wanted to be what one can call: a sacrificial service before the Divine-Spiritual. Even science, even the recognition of the spiritual, should have the effect of a sacrificial service, should work in such a way that Jakob Böhme could say: When one searches spiritually, it is so that one must bring it to go its way:

Walking in God – And striving in God –
And dying in God – And being buried in God.

Hamerling expresses this by having the German Genius say to Teut:

You strive only because you love: your most daring thought
will be devotion, sinking into God.

The affinity of the German soul with God is so beautifully expressed here. This shows us how deeply rooted true spiritual striving is in the German national character. But this also clearly gives rise to the thought in our soul, the powerful thought, that one can ally oneself with this German national spirit, for in that which it has brought forth in spiritual achievements - one current guides the other - this German national spirit is at work. It finds expression in the great, immortal deeds that are being accomplished in the present. In conclusion, let me summarize in the four lines of the German-Austrian Robert Hamerling what emerges as German faith, German love, German hope of the past, present and future, when the German unites with what is the deepest essence of his people. Let me summarize what is there as a force – as a force that has confidence that, where such seeds are, blossoms and fruits must develop powerfully in the German national character despite all enemies, in the German national character – let me summarize what is there as a force in his soul, in the words of the German-Austrian poet Robert Hamerling:

And if ever the German name
should prove a hostile day,
From ocean to ocean will run
The course of the German spirit!

It seems obvious to me today that what has been discussed here, from this point of view, during these days, the harmony of the subjective and the objective, is now emerging as an introduction to my lecture, also based, so to speak, on a feeling. Yesterday morning, the reflections concluded with the speech of Professor Römer, which gave me great satisfaction – that is the subjective aspect – for the reason that it showed how a specialist, who is thoroughly and fully immersed in his field, can feel the need for the spiritual science to shed light on such a specific subject. It will also have become clear to you from what Professor Römer has already been able to cite from his field of expertise today, that above all, for this interweaving, strong, vigorous work must be developed on the part of the relevant spiritual science itself. For what has been given so far - and this should be fully recognized - are initially individual guidelines that require verification with reference to external science.

In all that has been brought to me through this lecture to a certain subjective satisfaction, there was a consideration of the teeth. So yesterday we concluded with the teeth – now I come to the objective. And allow me to start with the teeth again today, though not with something that I want to tell you about the teeth on my own initiative, but with a saying that emerged from the scholarship of the 11th century, as it was in Central Europe at the time. This saying goes:

When thy tongue catcheth the wind

and draweth it into thy mouth,

and with thy teeth thou choosest

the word that thou shalt speak.

This means: just as the tongue catches the wind from its surroundings and draws it into the mouth, so it draws the word it speaks out of the teeth.

Now, that is a product of 11th-century Central European scholarship. It means that the tongue draws the word out of the teeth just as it draws air into the mouth from the outside world.

Now a sample of 19th-century scholarship, from the last third of the century, a word pronounced by the philologist Wilhelm Scherer, who was revered by a large number of students as a modern idol, and which you will find in his “Deutsche Sprachgeschichte” (History of the German Language), where he also uses this word that I have just read to you. The word he uses in contrast to this is this: “We laugh at such a word in the present”.

That is the scientific confession from the 19th century about this word from the 11th century; it expresses the scientific attitude that still prevails today in the broadest sense and that the representatives of the corresponding field are still likely to express today in further references.

If we first consider this contrast from the point of view that has been adopted here more often, that a complete change has taken place in relation to the state of mind of people since the first third of the 15th century, then we have in the time that lies between the first quoted saying and the saying of Wilhelm Scherer, we have contained approximately just what has elapsed in time since the dawning of that state of mind that existed until the beginning of the 15th century, and the direction that has emerged since then and has so far undergone a certain development.

Wilhelm Scherer now continues the sentences that he began by saying that he had to laugh at such a word from the 19th He says that all efforts in the present must be directed, with regard to linguistics, to bringing together what physiologists have to say about speaking and word formation based on the physiological organization of the human body with what philologists have to say about the development of language from ancient times to the present. In other words, physiology and philology should join hands in this field of science. And Wilhelm Scherer adds that unfortunately he has to admit that the philologists are very, very far behind and that it cannot be hoped that they will meet the physiologists halfway in terms of what they have to say about the physical organization for the formation of speech. So that physiology and philology are two branches of science whose lack of mutual understanding a man regarded as a man of his time acknowledges in no uncertain terms.

This points to a phenomenon that is a dominant one in our time: that the individual sciences with their methods do not understand each other at all, that they talk alongside each other without the person who is placed in the midst of this scientific activity and hears what the physiologists on the one hand and the philologists on the other have to say, and who hears what they say, is able to do something with it – forgive the perhaps somewhat daring comparison – other than to be skewered from two sides in relation to his soul by the formations of concepts.

In a sense, although I do not want to say much more with this than something analogous, a certain contrast is already expressed in the word designation, which, I would like to say, is unconsciously taken seriously by the newer currents of science. The word 'physiology' expresses the fact that it wants to be a logos about the physical in man, so to speak, that which grasps the physical in a logical, intellectual way; the word 'philology' expresses: love of wisdom, love of the Logos, love of the word; so the word designation is taken from an emotional experience. In one case the word designation is taken from a rational experience, in the other from an emotional experience. And what the physiologist wants to produce as a kind of intellectual Logos about the human body, that - namely the Logos - the philologist actually wants to love. As I said, I am only trying to make an analogy here, but if we pursue it further, if we follow it historically, it will take on a certain significance. I would advise us to follow it more closely historically.

But we can point out something else that comes to us from prehistory, from the forerunner of that which has emerged in human consciousness since the beginning of the 15th century. We know that what is called logic and which, in a certain respect, has its image in language, at least essentially, is a creation of Aristotle. And if one were to claim that, just as a person today who has not studied logic nevertheless lives logic in his soul activity, logic also lived in people's soul activity before Aristotle, one overlooks the fact that the transformation of the unconscious into the conscious nevertheless has a deeper significance in the course of human events. The elevation of the logical into consciousness is also a real process, albeit an inwardly real process, in the development of the soul of humanity: in older times there was an intimate relationship between the concept and the word. Just as there was such an intimate relationship between the concept or idea and the perception, as you will find explained in my “Riddles of Philosophy”, there was also an intimate connection, an interlocking, I would say, of words and ideas.

The distinction that we have to make today, psychologically, between the word and the content of the idea – particularly when considering mathematization, this emerges with all clarity – was not made in older times. And it was precisely this distinction that Aristotle first arrived at. He singled out, within the life of the soul, that which is conception or concept from the fabric of language and made it into something that exists separately for knowledge. But in doing so, he pushed that which lives in language further down into the unconscious than it was before. In a sense, a gulf was created for knowledge between the concept or the conception and the word.

The further back we go in the consideration of human language, the more we find that the word and the concept or idea are experienced as one and the same thing, that man, so to speak, hears inwardly what he thinks, that he has a word-picture, not so much a thought-picture. The thought is linked externally to the sense perceptions and internally to the word. But in this way, even in these early times, a certain intuitive perception was present, which can be characterized as follows: as people expressed themselves in words, they felt as if what resounded in their words had entered their speech directly from a hidden, subconscious, instinctive aspect of things. They felt, as it were, that a real process takes place between what lives in things, and especially in facts, and what inwardly forms the impulse for the sounding of the word. They felt such a real connection as a person today still feels a real connection between the substances that are outside, say egg, veal, lettuce, and what then happens inside with the content of these substances when they are digested. He will see a real process in this process, which unfolds from the outside of the substances to what happens inside in the digestion. He experiences this real process subconsciously. What one experienced in language was subconscious — even if much more clearly, already permeated by a certain dim awareness. One had the feeling that something living in the things is related to the sounds, to the words. Just as the substances of the materials one eats are connected with what happens internally in the metabolism of the human being, one felt an inner connection between what takes place in the things and facts, which is similar to words, and what sounds internally as a word. And in that Aristotle raised to consciousness what was felt to be a real process, where concepts come into play, the same was achieved for language as a person achieves when he reflects on what the substances of the materials in his organism do. Thinking about digestion is, of course, somewhat further removed from the actual process of digestion than thinking about language. But we can gain an idea of the relationship by clarifying this idea by moving from the more immediate to the more distant, and by becoming clearer in the distance.

Now, for us, if we replace today's abstract view of history with a more concrete one, the fact that things that happened in Greece in the pre-Christian era, also in the pre-Aristotelian era, happened later for the Central European population - who still perceived the Greeks as barbaric, that is, at a lower level of culture - is clear. And we will be right, and spiritual science gives us the guidance to raise this feeling to certainty, if we imagine that the mental state from which we speak is spoken emotionally, “the tongue draws the outer air into the mouth just as it draws the word out of the teeth,” that this way of looking at things , this remarkably pictorially expressed view was roughly the same as that which prevailed in pre-Aristotelian times within Greece, and in the place of which there arose what was bound to arise through the separation of logic, of the logos, through the separation of the conceptual from that which is expressed in language.

You are aware that in that erudition which developed first in the 15th century and from which the various branches of the individual specialized sciences have emerged, that in this erudition as education much has contributed what has asserted itself as late Greek culture. The philologists, in other words, those who are supposed to love the logos, were thoroughly influenced by what emerged from late Greek culture. And just imagine such a late Greek as a Germanic scholar, like Wilhelm Scherer, confronted with early Greek, and it tells him: the tongue pulls the language out of the teeth – then he naturally rejects it, then he wants nothing to do with it from his point of view. One must consider such facts in a light that tries to shine a little deeper into the historical context than what is often available in the ordinary popular science of history today, both in the field of external political or cultural history and in the field of language history.

Now the question is what paths must be sought in order to scientifically penetrate into the structure of the language organism itself, if I may express it in this way.

Even in external appearances, it is expressed how the soul, which has gradually been elevated into the realm of abstract concepts, has moved away from what was felt about language in the pre-Aristotelian period. What, for example, has been produced, as an opinion about the origin of language, by this research, which is in the sign of Aristotelism? Well, it was elevated into the abstract, and thus alienated from its direct connection with the external world, through which one could experience what really corresponds to the formed word in things. It was alienated from this, but still sought to understand what such a connection might look like, and it then also translated this connection into all kinds of abstractions. What she felt inwardly, she placed in the realm where concepts are formed externally, based on sensory or other external observations. Because it was impossible to delve into things to search for the process of how the word works from things into the human organization, an abstract concept was used in place of such an understanding, for example in the so-called Wauwau theory or in the Bimbam theory. The wauwau theory says nothing more than that what appears externally in the organic as sound is imitated. It is a completely external consideration of an external fact with the help of abstract concepts. The Bim-Bim theory differs from the Bow-Wow theory only in that it takes into account the inorganic way in which sound is released from itself. This sound is then imitated in an external way by the human being who is confronted with and influenced by external nature. And the transformation of that which children call — though not everywhere, but only in a very limited area of the earth — when they hear the dog bark: woof-woof, or that which comes into their sense of language when they hear the bell ring: ding-dong-dong, this transformation is then followed by a curious method. Thus, what has then formed into the organism of language can be seen in the indicated 'theories', which, it is true, have not been replaced by much better ones to this day.

We are therefore dealing with an inwardness of the observation of language. Above all, the aim of spiritual science, as it is meant here, is to make the study of language an inward one again, so that through what can be achieved in the ascent from sensory to supersensible knowledge, what was once thought about language through feeling and instinct can be found independently again, but now in a form appropriate to advanced humanity. And here I must point out (owing to the limited time I have only to indicate the directions in which the empirical facts can be followed) how spiritual science takes a strictly concrete path when it wants to understand how the human being develops from childhood to a certain age. You will find what I am trying to suggest here outlined, for example, in my booklet 'The Education of the Child from the Point of View of Spiritual Science'.

First of all, it must be pointed out how the entire soul-physical configuration of the human being in the period before the change of teeth is essentially different from what it becomes after the change of teeth. Anyone who has observed this fact knows how much is metamorphosed in the soul-physical life during the period when the second teeth replace the first. And anyone who does not seek the relationships between body, soul and spirit through abstractions such as the followers of psychophysical parallelism, but seeks them in concrete phenomena, seeks them according to a truly further developed scientific method, and is able to grasp the inner structure of the soul life in the concrete, will find just how what later, in a more soul-like way, in the peculiar configuration of conceptual life, in the implementation of that which is experienced conceptually, with will impulses, which then lead to the formation of the judgment, as something that has been working in the physical organization until the change of teeth. And he will not speculate about what can “work spiritually” in the physical organization from birth to the change of teeth. Rather, he will say to himself, what is then released during the change of teeth, released from a body in which it was previously latent, that has previously been active in a latent and bound state in the physical organization of the human being. And this particular type of physical organization, in which what can later be observed in the soul is active, comes to an end with the eruption of the second teeth, which you were also made aware of yesterday.

Now, the facts at hand must be considered not only from a physiological point of view, but also from the perspective of the human soul. Just as the physiologist, with his senses and the mind bound to them, penetrates into the physical processes of the human organism, so too does the soul, with its faculties of imagination and inspiration. If one really penetrates into these processes, then one must see in the real, which is first latent from birth to the change of teeth, and then becomes free, also in terms of imagination and knowledge. That is why my writing on “The Education of the Child from the Point of View of Spiritual Science”, in summarizing this process in a formulaic way, speaks of the fact that with the change of teeth, the etheric body of the human being, which previously worked in the physical body, is only born free to be active in the soul life. This “birth of the etheric body” is expressed in the change of teeth.

It is necessary to have such formulaic expressions at the starting point of anthroposophical spiritual scientific observation, such as “birth of the etheric body from the physical body”, which corresponds to an actual event. But when we seek to make the transition from spiritual science in the narrower sense — which is concerned with the observation of the human being's direct experience of the day — to the approach taken in the individual specialized sciences, then what is initially expressed in such a formulaic way becomes something similar to a mathematical formula: it becomes method, method for dealing with the facts. And that is why this spiritual science can have a fruitful effect on the individual sciences, without always merely continuing into the individual sciences that which, admittedly, must be clearly borne in mind at the starting point: that the human being is structured into a physical body, etheric body, and so on. At the beginning one can and must know such things; but if spiritual science is to bring about a fruitful influence, they must become active, they must become a method, a way of treating even the empirically given 'facts'. And in this respect spiritual science, because it rises from the inorganic, where it can do little, through the organic into the spiritual realm, I would like to say, not only in the way the individual sciences can fertilize can, but it will, as a result of its findings, have confirmations of facts to hand over to them, which will shed light on what is gained from the other side through sensory-physical observation and then seen through with the mind. Spiritual and sensory-physical research must meet. And it is one of the most important tasks for the future to ensure that this spiritual research and this sensory-physical research meet.

In the process that manifests itself externally during the change of teeth, it becomes clear that what is designated as the etheric body – but by taking a concrete view, not a word concept, into the eye of the soul – becomes freely active for the entire human organism, after previously having had an organizing effect in the physical body. Now it rises into the soul, becomes free and then consciously works back to the whole human being to a certain degree.

Something similar occurs again with what manifests externally as sexual maturity. There we see how, once again, something arises in human experience that expresses itself, on the one hand, in a certain metamorphosis of the physical organism and, on the other hand, in a metamorphosis of the spiritual. And an essential part of the spiritual researcher's work is to acquire a concrete way of looking at what occurs in the soul and spirit, just as someone who only wants to educate themselves through external observation acquires a concrete way of looking at what they can see with their eyes and combine with their mind. Soul cannot be looked at in this way, but can only be looked at in its reality through imagination. There is no true psychology that does not begin with imaginative observation, and there is no way to find the interrelationship of body and soul or physical body and spiritual soul other than to build a bridge between what is given to external physical sensory perception as the physical body, and what falls away from this perception, what can only be given as reality in the ascent to supersensible knowledge, the spiritual-soul.

If we now turn to what occurs during puberty, we must say: here we see, in a certain sense, the reverse process of what took place when the teeth changed. We see how what plays as the capacity for desire in man, what is the instinctive character of his will, takes hold of the organism in a way it did not take hold of it before. Summarizing the whole broad complex of facts that this involves in a formulaic way, it comes about that one says: the one in which the nature of desire slumbers, the astral body of the human being, becomes free when sexual maturity occurs. It is this body that now, if I may express it in this way, sinks freely into the physical organism, takes hold of it, permeates it, and thus materializes desire, which finds expression in sexual maturation.

Now, what does an appropriate comparison of these two processes show? We see, so to speak, when the change of teeth occurs, a liberation of the etheric body of the human being. How does what is happening actually express itself? It expresses itself in such a way that the human being becomes capable of further developing the formation of concepts, in general the movement in the life of ideas, which used to be more bound to his whole organism, bound to the organization of the head. To a certain extent we see, and spiritual science sees it not only to a certain extent but in its reality, that the etheric, which we ascribe to the human being as an etheric body, withdraws with the change of teeth to that which only lives in the rhythm of the human organism and in the metabolic limb-organism, and that it develops a free activity in the formation of the head, in the plastic formation of the head, in which the consciousness life of the human being participates in the imagination. In a sense, the organization of the head is uncovered during this time. And if I may express myself figuratively about a reality that certainly exists, I must say that what drives itself to the surface from the entire human organization in the second teeth is the soul-spiritual activity that previously permeates the entire bodily organization and then becomes free. Before, it permeated the whole human being right into the head. It gradually withdraws from the head; and it shows how it withdraws by revealing its no-longer-to-the-head activity in that it stops and produces the second teeth. You can visualize this almost schematically. If I indicate schematically what the human physical organization is with the white chalk, and what the etheric organization is with the red chalk, then the following would result schematically (see figure):

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In the figure on the left, you see the human being in his spiritual, soul and physical activity as he stands before you until his teeth change. In the second figure, which is to your right, you see how the etheric element has withdrawn from the immediate effect of the head organization, how it has become free in a certain respect, so that from there it can freely affect the human head organism. And the last thing that happens in the physical organism as a result of this activity of the soul-spiritual is the eruption of the second teeth. I would say that you can observe in its image what is being communicated to you here as a spiritual view if you take the skulls that Professor Römer showed you yesterday, because you can compare the insertion of the first teeth with the insertion of the second teeth. If you want to follow this logically, then you have to take as a basis what has been gained here from spiritual science. Then you have to say to yourself, the first teeth, with all that is expressed in them, are taken out of the whole human organization, including the head organization. What is expressed in the second teeth is taken out after the inner soul organization, insofar as it concerns the etheric body, has slowly withdrawn into the rhythmic and metabolic organism and become free for the main head organization. In a similar way, we can say — as I said, I can only give guidelines — that something is happening with sexual maturity. What we call the astral body is sunk into the physical body, so that it finally takes hold of it and brings about what constitutes sexual maturity.

But now what happens in the human being takes place in the most manifold metamorphoses. Once one has truly understood a process such as that which is expressed through sexual maturity, which brings about a certain new relationship in human development, in the development of the human being to the outer world, once one truly understands such a process inwardly, one then also recognizes it when it occurs in a certain metamorphosis. What occurs at puberty, in that it takes hold of the whole person, in that it, so to speak, forms a relationship between the whole person and their environment, is, I would say, anticipated in a different metamorphosis at the moment when language develops in the child. Only what takes place with sexual maturation in the child takes place in a different metamorphosis in the formation of speech. What takes hold of the whole human being at sexual maturation and pours into his relationship with the outside world takes place between the rhythmic and limb human being and the human being's head organization. To a certain extent, the same forces that take hold of the whole person during puberty and direct their relationship to the outside world assert themselves between the lower and upper human beings. And as the lower human being learns to feel the upper human being in the way that the human being later learns to feel the outside world, he learns to speak. A process that can be observed externally in a person at a later age must be followed in its metamorphosis until it appears as an internal process in the human organism, in the learning to speak: the process that otherwise occurs in the whole person at puberty.

And once we have grasped this, we are able to comprehend how the interaction of the lower human being — the rhythmic and the limb-based human being — in its reciprocity develops an inner experience of something that is also present externally in the nature around us. This inward experiencing of what is outwardly present leads to the fact that what remains outwardly mute in things as their own language begins to resound as the human language in the human inner being. Please proceed from this sentence as from a regulative principle. Proceed from this sentence that what is in things, as they become external, material, falls silent, that in dematerialization it becomes audible in the human being and comes to speak. Then you will find the way in which you do not develop a yap-yap or a bim-bim theory, but on which you see that which is external to things – and cannot be perceived by external observation because it is silent and only exists in a supersensible way – as language in the human interior.

What I am saying here is like drawing a line to indicate the direction in which one would most like to paint a wide-ranging picture. I can only present this rather abstract proposition regarding the relationship between the things and facts of the external world and the origin of human language in the inner life. And you will see everything you can sense about language in a new light when you follow the path from this abstractly assumed sentence, which initially sounds formulaic, to what the facts connect for you in terms of meaning. And if you then want to apply what has been philologically obtained in this way to physiology, you will be able to learn about the connection between external sexual metamorphosis and linguistic metamorphosis by studying facts that are still present as a linguistic remnant of the sexual maturation metamorphosis in the change of the voice, that is, of the larynx in boys, and in some other phenomena that occur in women. If you have the will to engage with the facts and to draw the threads from one series of facts to another, not to encapsulate yourself in barren specialized sciences, but to really illuminate what is present in one science as fact , through the facts that come to light through other sciences, then the individual special sciences will be able to become what man must seek in them if he is to make progress on the path of his knowledge as well as on the path of his will.

In a context that might seem unrelated, we will see tomorrow in a very natural way how we can go from the change of teeth to the appearance of speech and then further back to what is the third on this retrogressive path: we see, so to speak, in what is expressed in the change of teeth, an interaction between the physical body and the etheric body. We see, in turn, in what is expressed in language, an interaction between the astral body and the etheric body. And thirdly, we must seek an interrelationship between the I and that which lives in man as an astral body, and we will be led to that which is the third in this retrospective consideration: to the embodiment of the spiritual-soul, to that which is born in the spiritual-soul. If one seeks the path from the change of teeth through the emergence of speech, the third stage is the stage of uniting the pre-existing human soul with the physical.

By walling up the way out of his consideration of the change of teeth to the consideration of language through his abstraction, Aristotle was forced to resort to the dogma that a new spiritual soul is born with each new human being. Due to a lack of will to continue on a path of knowledge, knowledge of human preexistence has been lost, and with it knowledge of all that truly leads to the knowledge of the human soul.

We see a historical connection, which, however, comes to expression in the treatment of certain problems, and we can say in conclusion: Today, according to the dictum of a philologist who is quite significant in the contemporary sense, philology and physiology are so opposed that they cannot understand each other. Why is this so? Because physiology studies the human body and does not come back to the mind in this study. If one pursues true physiology, then one finds the spiritual and psychological in man through the bodily in physiological observation. What happens when one pursues true philology? If one pursues true philology, then one does not reduce the logos to an abstraction, for which one then seeks to see through after-images, after-images in a scientific method, but one seeks to penetrate into that which one supposedly loves as a “philo”-logist, through imaginative and other forms of observation. But then, when one penetrates into that which has become shadowy and nebulous for today's philology, namely the genius of language, the creative genius of language, when one penetrates into it, then one penetrates through the spirit to the external corporeality.

Physiology finds the spirit by way of the inner body. Philology, when viewed correctly, finds what speaks and has fallen silent in things on the way out through the genius of language. It does not find bark and bim-bam, but rather finds the reason why words and language arise in us in the things that physically surround us. Physiology has lost its way because it stops at the body and does not penetrate inwardly through the body to the spirit. Philology has lost its way because it stops at the genius of language, which it then only grasps in the abstract, and does not penetrate into the inner being of the outer things from which what lives in the word resounds. If philology does not speak as if the wauwau and bimbam are imitated in an externally abstract way by man, but speaks about the external physicality in such a way that it becomes clear to it in imaginations, how the word arises from this external physicality, which echoes internally, so that when physiology has found spirit and philology has found physicality, they will find each other.

In this way I have traced the path that spiritual science in the anthroposophical sense wants to lead in conscientious work. I have only given a few hints in this particular field of introductory linguistics.

Now, these things are discussed among us, these things are striven for by us. While we strive for these things, so that they may bear witness to what is being striven for on a path of knowledge that arises entirely out of the spirit of our time. And while you can see from what is being striven for that there is probably a certain seriousness that can be measured against the seriousness that exists in other areas of life, Stuttgart, a meeting raged that trampled on most of our speakers, that had no intention of listening to anything, that did not want to engage with what we had to say, but that, through trampling and similar things, sought to crush what is being seriously pursued. And, addressing my fellow students, I may say: yesterday evening in Stuttgart, your colleagues were absent – not from the other faculty, but from the other attitude – they were not absent, they were present in the trampling.

Dear attendees, my dear fellow students! It will become ever clearer and clearer that there are those who, because they cannot be refuted – because they do not want to be refuted – because they do not want to engage with the new at all by inertly continuing with the old that has outlived itself, they will want to trample down on that with external force. Well, I would just like to appeal to you here in the sense that I do have faith in you, that you may say to yourself: We still have a say in this trampling down procedure! – But may this word become action.

Third evening of disputations

The questions did not relate to the theme of the day, “Linguistics”, but drew on problems dealt with earlier.

Dr. Steiner. Here is the question: It has been said that the three dimensions of space are not equal in structure – what is the difference?

In any case, the sentence was never formulated in this way: the three dimensions of space are “not equal in structure”, but what is probably meant here is the following. First of all, we have mathematical space, the space that we imagine – if we have an exact idea of it at all – as three mutually perpendicular dimensional directions, which we can thus define by the three mutually perpendicular coordinate axes.

In the usual mathematical treatment of space, the three dimensions are treated absolutely equally. We make so little distinction between the dimensions up-down, right-left, front-back that we can even think of these three dimensions as interchangeable. In the case of mere mathematical space, it does not matter whether, when we have the X-axis and the Z-axis perpendicular to each other, and the Y-axis perpendicular to them, we call the plane on which the Y-axis stands “horizontal” or “vertical” or the like. Likewise, we do not concern ourselves with the limitations of this space, so to speak. Not that we imagine it to be limitless. One does not usually ascend to this notion, but one imagines it in such a way that one does not concern oneself with its limits, but rather tacitly assumes that one can start from any point – let us say, for example, the X-direction and adding another piece to what you have already measured in the X-direction, to that again a piece and so on, and you would never be led to come to an end anywhere. In the course of the 19th century, much has been said against this Euclidean-geometric conception of space from the standpoint of meta-geometry. I will only remind you of how, for example, Riemann distinguished between the “unboundedness” of space and the “infiniteness” of space. And initially, there is no necessity for the purely conceptual imagination to assume the concept of “unboundedness” and that of “infiniteness” as identical. Take, for example, a spherical surface. If you draw on a spherical surface, you will find that nowhere do you come up against a spatial boundary that could, as it were, prevent you from continuing your drawing. You will certainly enter into your last drawing if you continue drawing; but you will never be forced to stop drawing because of a boundary if you remain on the spherical surface. So you can say to yourself: the spherical surface is unlimited in terms of my ability to draw on it. But no one will claim that the spherical surface is infinite. So you can distinguish, purely conceptually, between unlimitedness and infinity.

Under certain mathematical conditions, this can also be extended to space, can be extended to space in such a way that one imagines: if I add a distance in the X or Y axis, and then another and so on, and am never prevented from adding further distances, then this property of space could indeed speak for its unlimitedness, but not for the infinity of space. Despite the fact that I can always add new pieces, space does not need to be infinite at all; it could be unlimited. So these two concepts must be kept separate. So one could assume that if space were unbounded but not infinite, it would have an inward curvature in the same way as space does now, that is, in some way it would likewise recede into itself, like the surface of a sphere recedes into itself.

Certain ideas of newer metageometry are based on such assumptions. Actually, no one can say that there is much to be said against such assumptions; because, as I said, there is no way to derive the infinity of space from what we experience in space. It could very well be curved in on itself and then be finite.

Of course, I cannot go into this line of thought in detail, because it is almost the only one followed by the whole of modern metageometry. However, you will find sufficient evidence in the works of Riemann, Gauss and so on, which are readily available, to explore if you value such mathematical ideas.

From the purely mathematical point of view, therefore, this is what has been introduced into the, I would say rigid, neutral space of Euclidean geometry, which was only derived from 'unboundedness'. But what is indicated in the question is rooted in something else. Namely, that space, with which we initially calculate and which is available to us in analytical geometry, for example, when we deal with the three coordinate axes that are perpendicular to one another, that space is initially an abstraction. And an abstraction – from what? That is the question that must first be raised.

The question is whether we have to stop at this abstraction of “space” or whether that is not the case. Do we have to stop at this abstraction of space? Is this the only space that can be spoken of? Or rather, if this abstract concept of space is the only one that can legitimately be spoken of, then there is really only one objection that can be raised, and this is sufficiently addressed in Riemannian or any other metageometry. The fact of the matter is that, for example, Kant's definitions of space are based on the very abstract concept of space, in which one does not initially concern oneself with infinity or boundlessness, and that in the course of the 19th century, this concept of space was also shaken internally, in terms of its conceptual content, by mathematics. There can be no question of Kant's definitions still applying to a space that is not infinite but unlimited. In fact, much of the further development of the “Critique of Pure Reason” would be called into question, for example the doctrine of paralogisms, if one were obliged to move on to the concept of unlimited space curved in on itself.

I know that for the ordinary conception this concept of curved space causes difficulties. But from the purely mathematical-geometric point of view, nothing can be objected to what is assumed there, except that one is moving in a realm of pure abstraction that is initially quite far from reality. And if you look more closely, you will find that there is a strange circularity in the derivations of modern meta-geometry. It is this, that one starts out from the idea of Euclidean geometry, which is not concerned with the limitations of space. From this, one then gets certain derived ideas, let us say ideas that relate to something like a spherical surface. And then, in turn, by undertaking certain reconciliations or reinterpretations with the forms that arise, one can make interpretations of space from there. Actually, everything is said under the assumption of Euclidean coordinate geometry. Under this assumption, one arrives at a certain measure of curvature. One arrives at the derivations. All of this is done with the concepts of Euclidean geometry. But then one turns around, so to speak: one now uses these ideas, which can only arise with the help of Euclidean geometry, for example the measure of curvature, in order to arrive at a different idea that leads to a reorganization and can provide an interpretation for what has been gained from the curved forms. Basically, we are moving in an unrealistic area by extracting abstractions from abstractions. The matter would only be justified if empirical facts made it necessary to conform to the ideas of these facts according to what is obtained through such a thing.

The question, then, is: what is the experiential basis for the abstraction “space”? After all, space as such, as presented in Euclid, is an abstraction. What is the basis for what can be experienced, what can be perceived?

We must start from the human experience of space. Placed in the world, human beings, through their own activity of experience, actually perceive only one spatial dimension, and that is the dimension of depth. This perception, this acquired perception of the dimension of depth by the human being is based on a process of consciousness that is very often ignored. But this acquired perception is something quite different from the perception of the plane-like, the perception of extension in two dimensions. When we see with our two eyes, that is, with our total vision, we are never aware that these two dimensions come about through an activity of their own, through an activity of the soul. They are, so to speak, there as two dimensions. Whereas the third dimension comes about through a certain activity, even if this activity is not usually brought to consciousness. We actually have to first acquire the knowledge and understanding of how deep in space something lies, how far away from us any object is. We do not acquire the extent of the surface, it is given by observation. But we do acquire the sense of depth through our two eyes. The way in which we experience the sense of depth is indeed on the borderline between the conscious and the unconscious; but anyone who has learned to focus his attention on such things knows that the semi-unconscious or unconscious, never conscious, activity of judging the depth dimension is much more similar to an intellectual, or even a soul activity, an active soul activity than to everything that is only viewed on the plane.

Thus, the one dimension of three-dimensional space is already actively conquered for our objective consciousness. And we cannot say otherwise than: By observing the position of the upright human being, something is given in relation to this depth dimension — front-back — which is not interchangeable with any other dimension. Simply because a person stands in the world and experiences this dimension in a certain way, what he experiences there is not interchangeable with any other direction. For the individual, this depth dimension is something that cannot be exchanged for any other dimension. It is also the case that the grasping of two-dimensionality – that is, up-down, right-left, of course also when it is in front of us – is also tied to other parts of the brain, since it lies within the process of seeing, that is, within the sensory process of perception; while, with regard to localization in the brain, the emergence of the third dimension is quite close to those centers that are to be considered for intellectual activity. So here we can already see that in the realization of this third dimension, even in terms of experience, there is an essential difference compared to the other two dimensions.

But if we then move up to imagination, we get out of what we experience in the third dimension altogether: in imagination, we actually move on to two-dimensional representation. And now we have yet to work out the other imagination, the imagination of right and left, although this has been hinted at just as quietly as the development of the third dimension in objective imagining; so that there is again a specific experience in right and left. And finally, when we ascend to inspiration, the same applies to up and down.

For ordinary imagining, which is tied to our nervous sense system, we develop the third dimension. But when we turn directly to the rhythmic system by excluding the ordinary activity of the nervous sense system – which in a certain respect occurs when we ascend to the level of inspiration; it is not entirely precise to say this, but it does not matter for now – then we have the experience of the second dimension. And we have the experience of the first dimension when we ascend to inspiration, that is, when we advance to the third member of the human organization.

Thus that which we have before us in abstract space proves to be exact because everything we conquer in mathematics we extract from within ourselves. What arises in mathematics as three-dimensional space is actually something that we have within ourselves. But if we descend into ourselves through supersensible representations, it is not abstract space with its three equally valid dimensions that arises, but three different valences for the three different dimensions: front-back, right-left, up-down; they cannot be interchanged. From this follows yet another: if these three are not interchangeable, there is no need to imagine them with the same intensity. That is the essence of Euclidean space: that we imagine the X-, Y-, Z-axis with the same intensity – this is assumed for any geometric calculation.

If we hold the X-, Y-, Z-axis in front of us, then we must – if we want to stick with what our equations tell us in analytical geometry, but assume an inner intensity of the three axes – imagine this intensity as being of equal value. If we were to elastically enlarge the X-axis with a certain intensity, for example, the Y- and Z-axes would have to enlarge with the same intensity. That is to say, if I now grasp intensively that which I am expanding, the force of expansion, if I may say so, is the same for the X-, Y-, Z-axis, that is, for the three dimensions of Euclidean space. Therefore, applying the concept of space in this way, I would like to call this space rigid space.

Now, this is no longer the case when we take real space, of which this rigid space is an abstraction, when we take space as it is experienced by a human being. Then we can no longer speak of these three intensities of expansion being the same. Rather, the intensity is essentially dependent on what is found in the human being: the human proportions are entirely the result of the intensities of spatial expansion. And we must, for example, if we call the up-down the Y-axis, imagine this with a greater intensity of expansion than, for example, the X-axis, which would correspond to the right-left. If we were to look for a formulaic expression for this real space, if we were to express in formulaic terms what is meant by 'real' here, then again we would end up with a three-axis ellipsoid.

Now we also have the reason to imagine this three-axis space, in which supersensible thinking must live, in its three quite different possibilities of expansion, so that we can also recognize this space, through the real experience of the X-, Y- and Z-axis given to us with our physical body, as that which simultaneously expresses the relationship of the world bodies situated in this space.

When we imagine this, we must bear in mind that everything we think of out there in this three-dimensional cosmic space cannot be thought of as simply extending in different directions with the same intensity of expansion along the X-, Y- and Z-axes Z-axis, as is the case with Euclidean space, but we must think of space as having a configuration that could also be imagined by a triaxial ellipsoid. And the arrangement of certain stars certainly supports this. Our Milky Way system is usually called a lens and so on. It is not possible to imagine it as a spherical surface; we have to imagine it in a different way if we stick to a purely physical fact.

You can see from the treatment of space how little newer thinking is in line with nature. In ancient times, in older cultures, no one had such a conception as that of rigid space. One cannot even say that in Euclidean geometry there was already a clear conception of this rigid space with the three equal intensities of expansion, and also the three lines perpendicular to one another. It was only when people began to treat space in the manner of Euclidean geometry, in their calculations, that this abstract conception of space actually arose. In earlier times, quite similar insights had been gained, as I have now developed them again from the nature of supersensible knowledge. From this you can see that things on which people today rely so heavily, which are taken for granted, only have such significance because they operate in a sphere that is divorced from reality. The space that people use in their calculations today is an abstraction; it operates entirely in a sphere that is divorced from reality. It is abstracted from experiences that we can know through real experience. But today, people are often content with what abstractions are. In our time, when so much emphasis is placed on empiricism, abstractions are most often invoked. And people don't even notice it. They believe that they are dealing with things in reality. But you can see how much our ideas need to be rectified in this regard.

In every concept, the spiritual researcher does not merely ask whether it is logical. Although, in a certain sense, it is only a branch of Euclidean space, it is not really possible to grasp it conceptually, because one arrives at it through a completely abstract train of thought, in which one comes to a conclusion and, as it were, turns one's whole thinking upside down. When imagining, the spiritual researcher does not merely ask whether it is logical, but whether it is also in line with reality. That is the deciding factor for him in accepting or not accepting an idea. He only accepts an idea if this idea is in line with reality.

And this criterion of correspondence to reality will be given when one begins to deal with such ideas in an appropriate way, which is the justification for something like the theory of relativity, for example. It is logical in itself, I would like to say, because it only comprehends itself within the realm of logical abstraction, as logically as anything can be logical. Nothing can be more logical than the theory of relativity! But the other question is whether its ideas are realizable. And there you need only look at the ideas that are listed there as analogous, and you will find that they are actually quite unrealistic ideas that are just thrown around. It is only there for sensualization, they say beforehand. But it is not just there for symbolization. Otherwise the whole procedure would be in the air.

That is what I would like to say about the question. You see, it is not possible to answer questions that touch on such areas very easily. Now there is a question regarding the sentence: “The organism of an ancient Egyptian or Greek was quite different from that of modern man.

Dear attendees, I certainly did not say that! And at this point I must definitely draw attention to something that I often draw attention to, and really not out of immodesty: I am in the habit of expressing myself as precisely as I possibly can. And it is actually an extremely painful fact, not just for me personally, since it is tolerable, but from the point of view of the anthroposophical spiritual movement, that in the face of many things, for the formulation of which I have used all possible precautions to formulate the facts as adequately as possible, then everything possible is done, everything possible is said, and then these assertions are sent out into the world as “genuine anthroposophical teachings”. One of these assertions is that I am supposed to have said, “The organism of an ancient Egyptian or Greek was quite different from that of a modern man”.

It can be reduced to the following. I said: the modern way of thinking imagines too strongly that man, as a whole being, has basically always been as he is today, right down to a certain historical time. I usually only speak of “completely different,” of metamorphoses of man as such, where there are great differences, where man becomes “completely different” in a certain respect: in prehistoric times. But anyone who is able to penetrate to the subtleties of the structure and the innermost fabric – as a human being can in spiritual science – will find that a metamorphosis of the human being is constantly taking place, that, for example, the modern human being differs from the Egyptian or the Greek. Of course not in terms of external, striking characteristics, which are as striking as external physiognomy and the like. That is probably what is meant in the question, but that is not my opinion, because in terms of striking characteristics, modern man is of course not “completely different” from the Egyptian. But in terms of finer internal structural relationships, spiritual science comes to the following conclusion, for example. It has to be said that since the first third of the 15th century, humanity has become particularly adept at abstract thought, at moving more and more towards abstract trains of thought. This is also essentially based on a different structure of the brain. And through the method of spiritual science, the spiritual researcher can recognize the matter. Then it turns out that it is really the case that the brain has indeed changed in its finest structures since Egyptian times. The brain of the Egyptian was such that, to take one example, he also belonged to those of whom Dr. Husemann spoke, that the ancient Egyptian also had no sense for the blue color nuance and so on. In any case, we can see that the sense of abstraction occurs to the same extent as the nuances of blue emerge from mere darkness. What occurs in the life of the soul corresponds entirely to a physical metamorphosis. It is extremely important that we do not stop at the coarser aspects of human nature, as they are presented when we go back, for my sake, to the long periods of time that lie before history. Rather, if we want to consider human beings as humanity, we must also consider the finer structural changes during their historical existence.

Question: It would be interesting to hear, in a more intimate way, how this fact behaves.

Well, quite a lot has actually been said in these days, let us say, also through the things that Dr. Husemann has presented, about how this fact behaves. And if we were to go into other fields of fact, there would certainly be much that could be said about these other, very fine, intimate structural relationships of the human being.

Question: How do you explain the phenomenon of the well-known horse that solved all arithmetic and mathematical problems without difficulty, to the amazement of all scholars, and only then failed completely when the problems were written on pieces of paper in front of the examiner? If it is the case with the horse that none of those present in the room could see the problem, is this based on a strong suggestiveness on the part of the animal? And how does that come about?

I never want to talk about anything other than what I have investigated myself. And so, in answering this question, I would only like to share what I have experienced myself. For example, I don't know the famous Elberfeld horses. I also don't know the dog Rolf, I never had the honor of meeting him. Now, with regard to such things, I could always state that the story is all the more wonderful the less one is embarrassed by not really being able to see through it, to really get to know it. But I once saw Mr. von Osten's horse in Berlin. I can't say that the calculations that Mr. von Osten presented to the horse were extraordinarily complicated. But I was able to get an instant idea of what it was all about from what was going on there – although you had to look very closely.

I could only marvel at the strange theories that had been advanced about these things. There was a lecturer, I think his name was Fox or something like that, who was supposed to examine this whole story with the horse; and he now put forward the theory that every time the gentleman from the east gave some task, terribly small movements would occur in the eye or something like that. Another small movement would occur when Mr. von Osten says “three” like that, or when he says it like that; another movement would occur when he says “two”. So that a certain fine series of movements would come about if Mr. von Osten said, “three times two”; then the same sign of this movement would come again, six! And Mr. von Osten's horse should now be particularly predisposed to guess these fine movements, which the lecturer in question said he did not perceive in any way, but only assumed hypothetically. After all, the whole “theory” was based on the fact that Mr. von Osten's horse was much more perceptive, to a much greater extent in reality, than the lecturer who put forward this theory.

If you stick to the flashy blue thinking in hypothesizing, you can set up hypotheses in the most diverse ways. For those who have some insight into such matters, certain circumstances were of extraordinary value. During the entire time that Mr. von Osten presented his experiments to the amazed public with his horse, he gave the horse nothing but sweets – he had huge pockets in the back of his coat. And the horse just kept licking, and that's how it solved these tasks.

Now imagine that this has created a completely different relationship between the horse and Mr. von Osten himself. When Mr. von Osten continually gives the horse sugar, a very special relationship of love and intimacy develops between them. Now the animal nature is so extraordinarily variable due to the intimacy of the relationship that develops, both from 'animal to human and from human to animal'. And then effects come about that are actually wrongly described when they are called “mind reading” in the sense in which the word is often understood, but they are mediators for that which is not “subtle twitchings” that a private lecturer hypothetically posits, but which he himself says he does not see! No subtle twitches are needed to convey the solutions. It can be traced back to the following: imagine what went through the mind of Herr von Osten, who of course was vain enough to realize that the tension in the audience, made up of sensation-hungry people, was going through the most incredible twists and turns as he noticed it, and when he was then standing in front of the solution to the task, he gave the horse a piece of sugar. And add to that the effect on the horse of the mental relationship. It was truly not a command given by words or twitching, but an intimately given command that always went from Mr. von Osten to the horse when he gave him sweets to eat. Suggestion is probably not the right word. Relationships that take place between people cannot be transferred to every living being.

I have tried to show these things in concrete terms by highlighting a circumstance that many will consider trivial: the constant giving of sugar as something extraordinarily essential.

Question: Is there a possibility for pointing out a point of view that is just as stimulating for systematics in the field of mineralogy and crystallography as the idea of the primal plant is for botany or a new understanding of the periodic system of elements is for chemistry?

When we speak of crystal forms, we are dealing with forms that are actually different in their overall relationship to the cosmos, in their entire position in the world, than the forms that one can imagine in the Primordial Plant and, again, in the plant forms derived from the Primordial Plant, that is to say, in the possibility of real existence. For example, the principle applied to the design of the primeval plant could not be applied to the field of mineralogy or crystallogy. For there one is dealing with something that must be approached from a completely different angle. And one must first approach it by actually approaching the field of polyhedral crystal forms. And this approach, I can only hint at now. I have explained it in more detail in its individual representations in a lecture course that I gave for a smaller group. This approach is taken when one starts from the consideration, an internal dynamic consideration of the state of aggregation, let us say first of all from the gaseous state downwards to the solid. I can only draw the lines now; it would take too long if I were to explain it in detail, but I will hint at it. If one descends – if I may express it this way – from the gaseous state to the liquid state, then one must say: the liquid state of aggregation shows itself in that, as the one in the whole coherence of nature, a level-limiting surface, which is a spherical surface, and the degree of curvature of which can be obtained from any point on the surface by means of the transition to the tangent at that point. What you get there includes the shape that has its outer circumference in the spherical surface, and a point in the interior that is the same distance from this spherical surface everywhere.

If we now imagine the drop in an unlimited way, I do not say in an infinite way, but enlarged in an unlimited way, we get a level surface approaching the horizontal, and we have certain relationships in mind that are perpendicular to this level surface.

But we arrive at the same idea by observing the connections that arise when we simply regard our earth as a force field that can attract surrounding objects that are not firmly attached to it. If we regard the earth not as a center of gravity but as a spherical surface of gravity, then we arrive at the same result for this, I would say, gravitational figure as we need in another respect for the material constitution of the drop. So for a pure force context, we get something that corresponds to a material context. And in this way we arrive at a possibility for studying the formal relationships in the inorganic.

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So that we can say that in this context of forces, which is present in the whole body of the earth, we are always dealing with the horizontal plane. If we now move from this state of forces to one in which, let us say, there is not a point in the center to which the level surface refers as in the 'drop to the one center point', but rather several points, we would find a strangely composed surface. These relationships of the line to these 'centers' I would have to draw in the diagram in something like the following way: But if we now proceed—and now I am taking a great leap, which is well-founded, but in the short time available I can only hint at the true content—if we now proceed to assume these points not inside, within the system we are dealing with, but outside, then perhaps we would get a diagram that can be made diagrammatically in the following way: If we transfer the points into immeasurable distances, not into infinite distances, but into very great distances, then these curved surfaces, which are indicated here by curved lines, by curves, pass over into planes, and we would get a polyhedral form, which approximates to what we have before us in the known crystal forms.

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And indeed, spiritual scientific observation leads us to look at the crystal in such a way that we do not merely derive it from certain inner figurative forces in some material substance, but we relate it to the exterior of the cosmos, and we seek in the cosmos the directions that then, through the distribution of their starting points, result in what the individual crystal form is. In the individual crystal form, we actually get, so to speak, impressions of large cosmic relationships. All of this needs to be studied in detail. I fear that what I have been able to hint at, albeit only in a few very sparse lines, may already seem to you to be something very daring. But it must be said that today people have encapsulated themselves in their world of ideas in a very narrow area, and that is why they feel so uncomfortable when one does not stick to the conceptual world that is usually taken as a basis today, I would say is taken as a basis in all sciences. Spiritual science demands an - as experience makes necessary - immeasurable expansion of concepts compared to the present situation. And that is precisely what makes some people uneasy. They cannot see the shore, so to speak, and believe they are losing their way. But they would realize that what is lost through the expanse is gained again as a certain inner firmness and security, so that there is no need to be so afraid of what appears to be an expansion into the boundless.

Of course, it is much easier to make up some model or other — as was also mentioned today in a certain question — than to advance to such ideas. It is easier to say: the truth must be simple! — The reason why one says that the truth must be simple is not, in fact, that the truth really must be simple, because the human organism, for example, is incredibly complicated. Rather, the reason why it is said that the true must be simple is that the simple is convenient in thinking. That is the whole point. And it is necessary, above all, to advance to the fuller content if one really wants to understand reality bit by bit.

The question that was raised here still required that one should present three hours of theory. One cannot speak about the sun through “a brief answer to the question,” because one would be completely misunderstood. And I do not want that. — So, first of all, the answerable questions are answered provisionally.

Question: Does spiritual science find a transformation of the material earth with the entry of the Christ-Spirit into the earth? Is the effect of the power of Christ perhaps particularly expressed in one of the elements found in modern times?

What is the question? — Not true, one must only consider from which point of view such a question can be asked. The question is posed: Is the effect of the power of Christ expressed in the material earth? — You must only bear in mind that spiritual science, based on its research, has a very definite idea about the earth that does not coincide with what one imagines about the earth when one speaks of the “material earth” in the sense of the word “material” in today's language. So the question is actually without real content. If one speaks of something like an “influence of the power of Christ on the earth”, then, since this idea is in turn borrowed from spiritual science, one must also have the idea of the earth that applies to anthroposophy, to spiritual science. And how the power of Christ stands in a certain relationship to the whole metamorphosis of the earth can only be presented in the overall context that I have given in Occult Science. And there one also finds what is necessary to answer the question, if it is formulated correctly.

In response to requests from many course participants, a gentleman from Stuttgart will give a brief report on the lecture given the previous evening by the Pan-German General v. Gleich at a mass meeting in Stuttgart on “Rudolf Steiner as the prophet of a questionable teaching” (see Rudolf Steiner's reference to this at the end of the morning lecture, $. 139/140).

I would just like to add that the aforementioned General v. Gleich, quite a long time before, for weeks before, he proceeded to his lecture and to the writing of his pamphlet, wrote a letter to our friend Mr. Molt, as a concerned father, concerned about the misfortune that he, as the owner of a forty-year-old nobility, not only “handed over” his son to anthroposophy, but also to a completely un-noble lady who is an anthroposophist! As a concerned father, he wrote to our friend Molt, asking him to visit him. Mr. Molt did so, but said that he did not know what to do with him. This was clear to him from the fact that Mr. v. Gleich demanded that we “of the threefold social order movement” should henceforth pay the son of General v. Gleich, who was employed by us, so little that the young man would not be able to marry, and that we should at least protect General v. Gleich from this marriage of his son by paying him so little. After these events, it was understandable that one could not expect the best from General von Gleich's lecture. We then actually saw even the worst expectations exceeded! It was the case with this lecture that Gleich essentially presented the content of a brochure – somewhat more fully developed, we might say – that appeared in Ludwigsburg at the same time. It had already been arranged that this brochure should appear at the same time as the lecture. In this brochure, he makes various accusations against anthroposophy in the most uninformed way, without providing any evidence for what he says – anyone who reads this brochure can see that for themselves – by actually only using the opponents of anthroposophy. This is clear from the brochure's table of contents: a few references to literature where one can find out about anthroposophy. One would think that these would be the anthroposophical books, but no, there are about twenty opponents, with the most shameless one right at the front: Max Seiling! Von Gleich essentially brings nothing new to the table that cannot be found in Seiling's brochure, only in the way General von Gleich used to give his lecture. And it was the case that this lecture was announced “without discussion”. There were numerous followers of the anthroposophical movement in the audience. After he had finished the lecture, which was full of the harshest expressions and included some of the most crude slander, he simply left the hall without entering into any discussion. And when someone tried to get a word in edgewise, and when Mr. Molt, who was there and was also personally attacked several times in the lecture, shouted: “He hereby publicly declares – he shouted this into the hall, in which there was a raging was a raging crowd of Mr. v. Gleich's supporters, he did not consider it worth replying to anything. He had already left the hall. On the other hand, the supporters, who were equipped with whistles and other noisy instruments, tried to shout down the anthroposophists who wanted to object. And it was quite close to a brawl. It was very difficult to protest against the most serious defamations, since the whole meeting immediately took on a threatening character, and it was clear that it would come to a brawl.

There followed some reports about the previous lecture by v. Gleich in Ludwigsburg. Finally, a letter from General v. Gleich to his son was read out.

I would just like to say a few words. Can I have this letter again? I would just like to make a formal comment, a comment that does not concern the matter itself. So, in the letter from Mr. v. Gleich to his son, it says: “[...] If only God had willed that you, a decent Christian nobleman, had fallen for your fatherland, then I could at least mourn you with pride [...] I pray to God to take the blindness from you again, so that you may awaken from it again [...].” (space in the postscript).

As you can see, a lot has been said about Mr. von Gleich's own Christianity; I would like to emphasize this: his own Christianity, in comparison with the unreasonable demand that we have been made to pay our son so badly that he cannot marry. That seems to me a very Christian act! And I do not want to be distracted by these “little piquant matters”, which are also on this program, and talk about the seriousness of the situation. Because I know very well that what happened yesterday in Stuttgart is not an end, but a beginning, that behind it stands a strong organization. And it is precisely out of this feeling that I may thank such a personality as the one who has just spoken - out of a real inner feeling for what Anthroposophy at least wants to be. But I would like to point out the seriousness of the situation and the necessity to act in the spirit of this serious situation.

What I want to say must, of course, be distinguished from a certain understanding that one can also have of such Christians as General von Gleich, for example, who is a Christian! I do not want to make a comparison, not even a formal one, but I just want to say something that I had to remember with this kind of Christianity. There are, in fact, very different kinds of Christianity, even of Orthodox Christianity. When the criminal anthropologist Moritz Benedikt started working and writing in criminal anthropology, he initially found little understanding in Vienna. He then found extraordinary understanding in a director of a home for dangerous criminals in Hungary. He was given the opportunity to examine the skulls of criminals, including the skulls of the most dangerous Hungarian criminals. Among them were the strangest people, including a very devout Orthodox Christian, who, of course, could not behave towards Professor Benedikt in accordance with his Christian intentions. He was very angry with him because he was allowed to examine his skull. And he was especially angry about it because he had heard that the prison director had agreed that Professor Benedikt would get to study particularly characteristic criminal skulls after death. And since he was not released to the professor Benedikt in this institution, he wanted to be at least presented to this Benedikt in chains. During this presentation, he said that he could not admit that, given his Christian beliefs, he should allow his skull to be sent to the professor Benedikt in Vienna after his death; he would then be buried here, and his skull would lie around in Vienna! And he wanted to know how his body and his skull would be brought together at the resurrection. He believed so much in his bodily resurrection – he was a real criminal, I think even a murderer.

Anthroposophy and psychology. Spiritual scientific findings concerning the human soul

Reference to ‘anthroposophy’ in this lecture is not to something coming from a sectarian movement or spiritual stream, but to something much more general and human—a spiritual stream that arises with an inner necessity at this time from the scientific approach that has evolved into its present form in recent centuries.

Please do not, however, think of this approach, which we refer to as ‘anthroposophy’, as the kind of logical consequence arising from consistent judgements based on scientific postulates. No, the idea is that this anthroposophy must develop in its own right, as a living structure, living experience, in an age when we have to think scientifically about many issues in life and in the world. It is more like a live offspring—if I may put it like this—of the scientific way of thinking than just a logical conclusion drawn from it.

Ladies and gentlemen, I will have to try and make these four lectures on widely different fields in modern science into a whole. This means that individual lectures cannot be complete in themselves, and I would ask you to keep this very much in mind.

Beginning the series of lectures with a look at the relationship between anthroposophy and psychology seems natural and indeed obvious since in aiming to be orientated towards the world of the spirit, and seeking to obtain its findings from that world, we will have to be concerned in anthroposophy with the most inward affairs of the human being, that is, with human psychology. That is one side of it. On the other hand we have to consider that in the course of recent centuries, especially the 19th century, the science called psychology has taken on a very different character from that which it had just a short time before. It is exactly because scientific thinking has been applied in many spheres of life that psychology has become more of an enigma perhaps, has been found to be more full of riddles relating to life than any other field of scientific endeavour in recent times. It was only natural that in the light of the great, tremendous results achieved in scientific research, views and approaches based on scientific methods took hold, as it were, of everything that comes within the horizons of human knowledge. The scientific approach has therefore also extended its power, we might say, to the field of psychology in more recent times.

Let me immediately deal with a prejudice or misunderstanding that arises only too easily when it comes to anthroposophical research. People may say that those who do research with an anthroposophical orientation are not prepared to take account of the scientific advances made in recent times. The opposite is the case. The other lectures I will be giving here will show that modern science is in fact only given its proper due by providing it with the firm foundation which anthroposophy or the science of the spirit is able to provide for it. To some degree this will be evident as soon as we consider the relationship between anthroposophy and human psychology. Modern science is justified in making it an ideal to keep all natural processes that have been studied, the content of natural developments and facts of nature, separate from anything that has soul quality, never allowing anything that comes from subjective, psychological experience and therefore arises as inner experience, to be brought into scientific observations and experiments. That is the only way in which anyone using this modern scientific approach can hope that human beings will not cloud the objective view taken of facts in nature with anything they bring to nature out of inner inclinations or experiences.

It was only natural that such an ideal would give psychology a particular character, for in earlier times the soul did not relate to the outside world in the way it now must do in the scientific study of nature. Anyone who is seeking to get a feel for the scientific thinking and the views of the world held in earlier centuries, will find that in those earlier times people did not neatly keep the facts of nature which they sought to explain and understand apart from the soul’s inner response to these facts and to the symbolic, shall we say, or other ideas developed in relation to them. In a way, the experiences people had in relation to nature were mixed up with the objective facts of nature. However, as science itself was not yet free then from some of the things that came from the soul, people did not find themselves as puzzled as they do today when it comes to psychology. If you found soul qualities revealed in nature herself, and gained soul qualities as well as purely material facts from nature, you were also much more likely than now seems possible—when the aim is to consider nature in such a way that anything ‘subjective’, any soul quality, is ignored—to think that you might learn something about how soul quality was created in the nonphysical world so as to be in harmony with what you would observe in nature and world. If you have a scientific approach where the greatest ideal is thought to be that anything to do with the soul is excluded, so that concepts, ideas and methods must be developed that are based on exclusion of the soul element, how can you use such methods to study and gain any kind of insight in the sphere of the soul? How can anything learnt in modern science, where the soul element is excluded, be applied to a study of the inner life?

Nevertheless, we shall see in the third lecture how physiology and another science which has a great future and is currently in the process of having chairs established at universities—experimental psychology—will gain sound foundations if it proves possible to develop a psychology that is a science of the soul in spite of the modern scientific ideal. The approach which is to be presented here does not in any way go against everything that has come to the inner life out of modern science when this served as an aid. Quite the contrary! The work which has been done in psychology laboratories more recently will truly bear fruit and gain real significance when seen from a particular anthroposophical point of view.¹

Now we may ask ourselves: What do human beings really want when they approach the natural world using the methods applied, and rightly so, in modern science? What do people want to discover in that world? We could talk about this for hours; let me give a brief idea of how the question might perhaps be answered.

Human beings develop certain needs as their inner life evolves, for the simple reason that they have inner experiences in the psyche, whilst the realities of nature proceed outside them. Modern science is developing out of those needs. People want to be able to cope with the questions that arise inwardly, with the riddles and doubts that may arise in the psyche when they consider the world of nature. And they want to have an image of nature where justice is also done to their inner experiences. It is really the observer who establishes the directives, the trends in modern science. We only have to recall the words if Du Bois- Reymond² in his famous talk on the limits of science: ‘Insight is gained into nature when our need for causality is met—something subjective, therefore, something based in human experience.’ The postulate is, however, that such a subjective, personal inner experience, with its doubts and questions, comes up against the outer processes in the world of nature as though against a sphinx. Those natural events do not at first sight match the image we have of them in our souls. We can alter the first image which has arisen at first sight, doing so with the processes that occur in the soul, and exactly in this way arrive at modern science.

Can we do the same with regard to the inner life? This is a question we do not always answer with sufficient clarity and accuracy. We cannot relate to the psyche in the same way as we do to the natural world, posing our questions in our usual state of mind. The life of the psyche happens inside us. We can merely experience it, live through it. We will not gain anything, however, by categorizing whatever we have come to know there the way we do when we categorize the natural world according to laws so as to arrive at a science of nature. This inner life can be known as it occurs in ordinary everyday life; but in thus living in it there is really no reason for us to treat it in the same way as we do the facts of the natural world. These take us into the unknown, as it were, at every step, but when it comes to the inner life we are right inside it. We have to train ourselves to consider specific questions in natural science if with regard to the inner life we want to use a method similar to the one generally used in natural science.

Now we might say that with the natural world, the observer is inevitably someone on the outside, but when it comes to the inner life, there is no outside observer. This makes some people doubt that it will be possible to observe the inner life. They are unable to see how such a split might happen, so that one has the evolution of the inner life and at the same time is also an observer.

But it is exactly this strange paradox which has to come about if we want to develop a psychology that will rank equal with natural science, or, I would say, is in the spirit of the demands made in modern science. The question concerning the observer of the inner life must be taken seriously and considered in its full significance and depth. Nothing that lives in us can directly observe this inner life. Where scientists studying the natural world who want to be true to the ideal of modern science remove everything that has soul quality from their way of thinking, making the psyche stand aside completely, as it were, psychologists must go exactly the opposite way today. They must not take away anything that is inner experience but must bring something into those inner experiences; they must penetrate those inner experiences with something that does not exist in our ordinary conscious minds. Psychologists must go exactly in the opposite direction! Modern science has grown great by going its way, and because of this the psychologist must go the opposite way. The big and significant question is, how can this way be found?

Some of the things I am going to say now will sound strange. But perhaps you need to consider that anything new in the course of cultural development has always seemed strange to begin with. Just think of the great, revolutionary scientific achievements—how people felt about them, and the troubles and strife they caused. Human beings are very much closer to the psyche than they are to the natural world. No wonder then if with regard to psychology, as a more recent science, many things will come up again that have also been known in the evolution of natural scientific research.

With anthroposophically orientated psychology it has to be clear from the beginning that, as I said before, the conscious awareness we have in everyday life and which is also commonly used in ordinary scientific research, will not be enough. Psychology is going to be a challenge to conscious awareness. In a book published a year ago,³ I dealt with the subject of psychology as follows. If the soul is basically unable to know anything about its everyday experiences but is only able to live in them the way one lives in the natural world outside before one has gained an image of it through natural science, this indicates that the soul must change if it is to observe facts relating to itself. This will mean quite a few difficulties with today’s dominant school of thought. The current idea is not to touch the soul, whatever we do, but to leave it as we have received it ‘from the hands of nature herself’, as the saying goes, and to direct scientific study to what lives in the psyche. Psychology will, however, need to draw powers from deeper sources, from spheres that lie hidden from ordinary experience, to gain methods of observation and of forming ideas that differ from those we have in ordinary life.

Let me tell you briefly and simply what has to happen to the human psyche if it is to be a real observer of its own inner experiences or, to put it in a better way, awaken the inner observer who lies hidden in it, so that it may investigate its own inner life. Our thinking, all the ways of forming ideas we develop in the study of the natural world, will not be what we need when it comes to the psyche. You will soon note, especially if you struggle inwardly to gain insight, that all those ideas do not take us beyond the facts that can be observed in natural science; they do not get us anywhere near the realm of the psyche.

The situation changes the moment we reach the points—I call them the frontier posts in our search for knowledge—where the human being is full of doubt to begin with and keeps saying to himself: This is as far as we can go in our search for knowledge with what has been granted to humanity; we cannot go beyond this. Just consider how people whose thinking is wholly based on the modern scientific way and who seek to dig down deeper and deeper into existence in their thoughts then come to such frontier posts. Let me give you some examples to show how someone struggling to gain insight truly comes to quite specific points in his inner life.

The first example I would like to give is one I found with a seeker who may not be appreciated so much as a philosopher but is all the more highly esteemed as a person, and that is the well-known aesthetician Friedrich Theodor Vischer.⁴ In his review of Volkelt’s interesting small book on dream fantasy⁵ he put all his inner energies into raising the question as to what the relationship might be between human soul and human body.

There is a difference between considering the issue from a philosophical perspective, taking a conventional view and applying only the rational mind to it, or letting hard effort in thinking create the inner experience of truly facing something like a sphinx. It was out of such apprehensions—one can see it from the way it all goes—that Friedrich Theodor Vischer, known as ‘V Vischer’, asked himself this question. He wrote: ‘The human soul cannot be in the body; yet it also cannot be anywhere but in the body.’⁶ Completely contradictory! The contradiction arises, however, not because it has been dragged in by logic, but out of the fullness of inner thought, a contradiction one is wrestling with, a contradiction that may be the beginning of an inner drama in the struggle to gain insight. And we should not fight shy of such dramas that bring living inner experience if we want to develop a true psychology.

This, then, is one of the highly significant questions at the frontier posts of knowledge. There are many of them. Du Bois-Reymond spoke of seven riddles of the world.⁷ We might refer to hundreds of such questions, both lesser and greater. We may stop at them, saying that this is as far as the human ability to know things goes, but if we admit to this it merely means that we lack courage in the quest for knowledge. What matters here is that we must be able to let such questions live on in us, in the fullness of our inner life, not seeking to consider them rationally, bringing all our inner powers to bear, but to live through them and have the patience to wait and see if something of a revelation will not come from the outside. And this does happen.

If we do not seek to meet such questions with preconceived ideas but enter into the billows, as it were, which such questions raise in the human soul, we come to a completely new living experience which we cannot have in our ordinary state of mind. Let me give you an analogy for this living experience. It is an elementary experience in the psyche and an elementary experience for the genesis of an anthroposophically orientated psychology. We simply must take it in its full reality, not in an abstract, dead sense. Let us think—it does not matter here if the analogy has full justification or not, for it will tell us what it is meant to tell us—let us think of an animal that is very low down in the evolutionary scale, a creature that does not yet have a differentiated sense of touch relating to the outside world. It is more or less just rummaging around inside as it experiences life and bumps into physical objects that exist around it. Now imagine such a life form gaining perfection in terms of the theory of evolution. What can evolve in this case? Where a lower animal merely bumps into objects outside and experiences those bumps inwardly in a completely undifferentiated way, differentiation in the course of evolution causes this to develop into a sense of touch. In the scientific theory of evolution, the differentiation of life in the senses is, I would say, generally presented as bumping into things and differentiation developing from this. The process which here happens externally, physiologically, or physically if you like—with a differentiated sense of touch developing merely from bumping into things—repeats itself purely at the level of the soul, if we take things in a truly living way, as we arrive at those frontier posts of knowledge with the psyche fully involved in the process. First you will feel as if you were in the dark in the world of mind and spirit, bumping into things everywhere. The fact that questions like those asked by Vischer have arisen proves that we live in darkness of soul, in an existence that is grounded in the world of the spirit and touches on that world. But the element which thus comes up against the world of the spirit now needs to be differentiated.

If we truly live with such frontier issues, something enters into the soul, is brought to it by revelation, which previously existed as little for the soul as sensory perception based on a differentiated sense of touch existed for a creature that had not yet developed such a differentiated sense of touch but merely bumped into things. We have to live with and through those frontier issues, the countless, tormenting, sphinx-like questions, so that we may know that the methods we can gain through working with nature, the methods which truly meet the ideal of the modern scientific approach, only take us to the point, where soul and spirit are concerned, where we bump into those boundaries. From there, life itself must forward.

And it can move forward. This can only be empirical fact. I am talking about something which every thinker who bases himself on modern science has perceived only too clearly, too significantly. The time when the soul truly expands its sphere of life into these boundary areas of knowledge can only come slowly as we patiently feel our way. I have given examples of such boundary issues in a brief chapter I have just written in the book which is due to appear shortly.⁸

Let me refer to another such fundamental boundary issue which we find in the work of Friedrich Theodor Vischer. It is an example of how someone who is beginning to live with the drama of insight and knowledge in himself in a very real way comes to the matter I have just been characterizing, inwardly feeling his way and not yet outwardly differentiated in feeling one’s way in mind and spirit. When Friedrich Theodor Vischer was struggling with these issues, the time had not yet come for the soul to break through the boundaries it had met. Vischer wrote:

No mind without a nerve centre, nor a brain, say our opponents. We say: no nerve centre and no brain unless there has been preparation in countless stages, starting from below; it is easy to be derisory about the spirit bumbling about in granite and limestone—no harder than it would be for us to ask derisively how the protein in the brain manages to get to something as sublime as ideas. Human powers of insight lack the ability to establish levels or degrees. It will remain a secret how it comes about that nature, and the spirit must surely slumber beneath her, is there as such a perfect counter thrust of the spirit that we—please note his choice of term here—

get bumps and bruises from it; it is a forcible separation that seems so absolute that Hegel’s concepts of being other and being outside oneself, however brilliantly formulated, really say practically nothing, simply covering up the abruptness of the apparent dividing wall. Fichte gives proper recognition to the fine edge and impact in this counter thrust, but no explanation.⁹

There can be no more accurate description of this inner life. First it feels itself bumping into the world of the spirit when such boundary issues come up, and it longs to let this process of coming up against the world of the spirit become differentiated and be a real way of feeling one’s way in that world, with, to use Goethe’s words, a mental organ developing.¹⁰ Where Goethe spoke of eyes and ears of the mind, we might say that organs of touch¹¹ arise in the mind at a most elementary level as we live in these things. It is truly a vital process, a growth process; it is not a matter of simply applying what one has previously learnt in the sciences; it is something as real as the way a child grows, but it takes the soul into regions it has not known before.

People are often mistaken about this. Thus the philosopher Bergson,¹² who has grown famous, makes one of the absolutely basic errors in this field. Henri Bergson says we cannot comprehend the world with the analytical mind, and especially cannot comprehend the inner life in this way, for in the psyche, and in the whole of existence, everything is evolving, flowing, vital. What is he thinking? That what we need does already exist and we can look for it with powers we already possess. In this, however, he is greatly mistaken. It does not lead to anything that can truly explain the psyche, for the soul must go beyond itself; it must develop something it does not yet have. The soul does not think that the life which it is to explore does already exist, but that it must first be gained.

Many people are really scared—if I may use the term—of entering deeply into the inner drama of gaining insight and knowledge. They believe it will take them into the abyss of subjectivity, the abyss of individual nature. If they were really to enter into this abyss in the way which has just been described, they would find that in doing so they would find something inside themselves that is as objective as are the things we find when we consider the natural world. It is merely an illusion to think that in living through the drama of insight one person would find one thing, and another something else. In a certain respect individual experiences have to differ because they are different aspects, different views of the same thing seen from different sides. Yet if we take photographs of something from different angles and those photographs look different, this does not mean to say that the thing itself does not present something objective in those aspects. We should not be dogmatic about anything someone has gathered from the psyche in this way, making his particular formulation into dogma and believing in it as one believes in any dogma or law of nature. No, we have to be clear in our minds that however subjective something perceived with the mind’s organs of touch may be, seeing that it represents a particular angle—if the methods I have presented only in principle are developed further, organs will truly develop in soul and spirit that may be compared to eyes and ears of the mind—if the world of the spirit is characterized on the basis of a mind that has vision of the kind I referred to in my book,¹³ then something described by an observer may be a subjective aspect; but if we accept it we approach the world of the spirit in the same way as we have a true image of a tree even if it is only from one angle. This is something that needs to be understood, especially in this particular field.

When human beings go beyond themselves in their inner life, something arises which I have described in my book How to Know Higher Worlds. There you find a detailed description of what the soul has to do so that it may go beyond itself in this way. Today I have, of course, only been able to give the principles. If you take what it says in the book to a certain level you will discover why I called the experiences, which are of a completely new kind compared to our ordinary conscious awareness, ‘imaginations’, seeing in images, and referred to the level of awareness which develops as ‘imaginative awareness’.

This imaginative awareness has nothing to do with fantasy. Its content is new compared to what one has known before. ‘Imaginative awareness’ is a term like many others. What matters is that the imaginations or inner images we gain, enriching our inner life, clearly show that they are, well, let us say reflections of a non-physical reality, just as our usual ideas of things are reflections of outer physical reality.

I have now described the process in which the soul rises above itself at the first level to gain imaginative insight. With this imaginative insight one is in fact living in a state for which we have to use a paradoxical term, and this can of course be the subject of derision in view of general thinking habits today. It is that in uniting the soul with the living inner experiences thus gained we are living out of the body. This is the crux of the matter. And above all we learn to distinguish experiences which we have gained in this way, without making use of the body, from those gained in the outside world which we have perceived through the senses; above all, however, also distinguish them from anything by way of visions, hallucinations or illusions.¹⁴

For this is something we must always remember. The way which is shown here goes in the opposite direction to the one which we may call pathological, the way that leads to illusory and visionary life. Those who find their way to a life in images know that anything we perceive with the senses, perceive with normal senses in the world of nature, is of a higher quality than anything that may present itself in visions or hallucinations. If we give ourselves up to visions we enter more deeply into our living physical body, becoming more closely bound up with it; we bring soul quality into the living body but we do not come free of it.

In the third lecture we will consider the human being as part of the natural world, and we will then realize why the contents of visions can be confused with perceptions made in the spirit. Today we are talking about the inner life, the psyche, and it is important to make the distinction quite clear—a visionary goes down into the life of the body, whilst someone seeking imaginative insight enters into a life that is wholly in the soul sphere, and this leads to experience lived independently of the body.

As I said, this is highly unusual in present-day thinking. Someone wanting to reach the world of the spirit on an amateurish basis, with amateurish ideas, would greatly like to think of this world by taking external sensory perceptions for a model; he would greatly like—we can see this in spiritualism, which is so disastrous—to have factual things in the spirit, just as one sees factual natural effects if one performs a physical experiment in a laboratory. He wants a tangible spirit. Yet the things we find in imaginative perception do not compare with anything tangible. In my book¹⁵ I compared this—one can only offer an analogy, for it is not the same—with the memories of past events which we think we call up from the depths of our inner life. The tenuous nature of such memories, which are entirely nonphysical, having soul quality, is the only thing in which it is possible to experience the spirit in which the psyche has its roots. It is just that the images seen independently of the body do not relate to anything one has known in the physical world. They have their own content which tells us that we have entered into a new, non-physical world, a world we did not know before. One gradually has to familiarize oneself with a very different way of inner experience, for the I will not have the support of the physical organs through which we gain our sensory perceptions. It takes some time to get used to this kind of life.

Above all it is this: I may have compared the images gained in the new way with memories of past events, but everything that arises by way of such images, and which therefore is a reflection of a spiritual reality, has one peculiarity which it is hard to get used to, and that is the peculiarity that the more perfect such a non-physical perception is, the less are we able to recall it afterwards. We are used to remembering things that have gone through our minds. Those non-physical experiences do not generate an immediate power to remember. The process is very different. I described it in the above book. It goes like this: If you want to have a specific non-physical image you have to prepare for this, exercising the soul so that it will develop the inner powers by which the image may be revealed. We can remember the things the soul does, what it undertook to gain that image vision. It is then possible to call the image up again. So once you have had a spiritual experience in imaginative insight you will not easily remember it; you have to go through all the inner preparation again; this you can remember. You can say to yourself: you did this, and you did that; do it again and you’ll have the experience again. Only if we succeed in bringing copies of it, as it were, back to our ordinary conscious mind, to our ordinary thinking, as ideas will we be able to recall those copies. But the actual nonphysical image has to be new every time, otherwise it is not the real thing.

Another peculiarity is this. Ideas we gain in our life in the outside world are produced all the more easily the more often we produce them. We get a degree of practice in this, and these things become habit. This is not the case when we have living experience of non-physical images, genuine spiritual realities. It is rather the opposite. The more often we seek to have a non-physical image under the same conditions, the more vague does it grow. Hence you have the strange situation, really quite paradoxical, that students in the life of the spirit who make efforts to gain certain non-physical images will have them and then be surprised that they cannot have them again. The ability to produce something again is often lost very quickly, the second or third time, and we then have to make new efforts, over and over again, to call up something which is escaping us, as it were, having come to us just once from the world of the spirit.

You will find all the individual exercises that will help to overcome the problem in my book How to Know Higher Worlds, though even there it is just a brief outline of things I have said on the subject since.

Another peculiarity is that you will only manage to cope with such imaginative ideas if you have gone through inner training to develop a life of thinking, forming ideas, inner responses and of will that provide reference points, so that one may bring ideas into the non-physical images. If you do not pay careful attention to this, you may fall into inner confusion and darkness, though this would not be pathological. Again and again you come to say to yourself: Here you learn something out of the spirit which you cannot yet understand, for you have not developed concepts that go sufficiently deep for this. At that point you have to stop, you have to find another way, trying to take your ability to form ideas in the world of the senses further, so that you may on a later occasion understand what you have not been able to understand before.

In short, I could mention many more such characteristics. You come across lots of things that take you aback and are paradoxical compared to the inner experiences we have in our ordinary state of mind. Yet it is only when we have torn the soul element away, as it were, from the living body that we are in the world of the spirit. No one can deny this experience, which is spiritual.

With the development which I have been describing so far, you are able to gain certain insights. You come to see that apart from the physical body, which is part of us and which is the object of anatomy, physiology and of modern science altogether, something else is also truly our own. In my more recent books I have called it the ‘body of creative powers’, so that there may be no misunderstanding; previously I called it the ‘ether body’.¹⁶ It is really a second element in us, and can never be perceived by ordinary sensory perception, ordinary inner experience. It can only be perceived if this inner experience progresses to become the capacity for vision in images. For this body of creative powers does not exist in space; it is something which lives only in time, but lives in time in such a way that everything which is active in our physical body from birth or conception to death, let us say, wells forth from this body of creative powers. We have a second body in us, a body of creative powers. It becomes a reality for us when we gain the power of awareness in images.

This awareness will not, however, take us beyond the principle which is with us from birth to death as our body of creative powers. This may sound odd, but that does not matter. We are able to go beyond it if we find additional ways of inwardly strengthening the soul, which has now become free of the body. Exercises have to be done again and again, with patience, to develop a completely new relationship to the principle we call the life of ideas or concepts.

In ordinary life we bring objects around us to mind by forming ideas of them. When we have an idea of something we think we possess whatever we are inwardly able to have of such an external object. This is a notion we must abandon when we come to gain experience in the spiritual realm. We need to be able, as it were, to put ourselves in a position where we let our ideas of things be like forces and powers that fight one another in the inward drama of gaining insight and knowledge. We have to develop the ability to let one idea enter into conflict with another. We must long to characterize anything we have characterized from one point of view also from another. At this level terms like materialism, idealism, spirituality, sensuality, and so on, all become empty phrases, for all of them, woven from the webs of concepts we have, prove to be like photographs taken from different angles.

We come to realize that in the realm of the spirit we have to deal with our concepts the way we work with our sense organs in the sphere of the senses. We walk around objects. We do not consider concepts as snapshots but merely as something which characterizes objects for us from one perspective or another, giving a one-sided view.

The spiritual scientist will therefore develop an inner tendency to characterize things from one angle, and then to characterize them also from the opposite angle. He will above all feel a longing to develop certain ideas and then refute them again, thus truly going through this inner combat. I am just giving some important inner aspects which one has to make progressively come true when a certain point has been reached at the frontier post of knowledge and insight.

The soul then continues to develop. It manages to develop the faculty I have called ‘inspired insight’ in my books. Please leave aside all superstition or prejudiced ideas with regard to this. The soul then separates from the body to a higher degree. Having gained this level of insight and knowledge one is not merely able to perceive the body of creative powers which is with us in time, from birth to death, but also spiritual realities that are outside our bodies, just as we see physical realities with our physical eyes. In my next lecture I will be speaking of the spiritual reality outside the human being. Now I am first of all going to talk about what the human being sees with this inspired insight, a spiritual reality that lies within him.

Something arises in inspired insight which does not live in our existence between birth and death; it lived before us, before we entered into the earthly body at birth, or, let us say, conception. It will live with us when we enter into the world of the spirit at our death. It has united with the physical genetic material we have from our parents and ancestors; it has penetrated this physical material. Inspired insight will truly allow us to perceive what preceded our physical existence at the soul level, what happens after our physical death, for we learn to see, in the spirit, the part of us which is wholly independent of the physical body. The body of creative powers is still bound to our physical existence; it will disperse when it is cut off from this physical existence. The principle which inspired insight is able to perceive does not disperse; it remains by itself; it is the part of us which goes through births and deaths. In the field of inspired insight the human being is able to investigate properly what connects him with worlds that are wholly of the spirit, what works most powerfully so that he becomes this particular human being when physical genetic material connects with his spiritual part.

The third ability we acquire is called intuition. This is not the kind of vague idea generally called an ‘intuition’ but something else. I’ll just refer to it briefly. At the third level of spiritual insight you can become fully aware—this will happen at a particular point of time in our inner development—that you are someone else, that through the efforts you made as you progressed through vision in images and inspiration you have truly found an inner observer in you.

Something significant then occurs in the drama of insight and knowledge, as I have called it. At this point we may say: You can see that it is not only this physical body of ours which the spirit has helped to create; you come to see that our soul itself, with its feelings, tendencies, ambitions, affects and will qualities, has come to be what it is through spiritual processes. The drama thus becomes an inner stroke of destiny.

You may have destiny experiences in life that make you shout for joy or feel very low, you may know the worst and also great happiness—the things you experience when you perceive the development not only of the physical aspect but of also of the soul principle, are a stroke of destiny, an inner stroke of destiny that means more to someone who experiences it to the full in the drama of knowledge and insight than the highs and lows, pleasures and pain of destiny experiences in everyday life.

If this is possible, if there truly is this inner power to bring about change, so that the inner eye perceives not only the physical and bodily aspect out of the spirit but the soul principle itself within the process of spiritual evolution, then intuitive perception arises. A sphere is entered which encompasses repeated earth lives, the ability to look back on earlier lives on earth, and the certainty that this life on earth will be followed by others. Knowledge is gained that the whole of human life consists of successive lives on earth, with lives in the world of the spirit in between them that extend from death to rebirth.

With all this, the inner eye needs to be directed to something for which a relationship with the natural world outside has not really trained it. With reference to the natural world we always ask about the origin and cause of facts. When it comes to things of the spirit, questions as to origin and causes will not serve. When the realm of the spirit opens up to someone in the way I have mentioned, he finds that everything that has to do with growth, thriving, progression and development has retrogressive development mixed in with it, with existence progressively crumbling away and destruction in progress all the time. This is what made individuals who were able to see this—perhaps not in this modern way, but in the ways in which such things were known in the past—say that insight into the spirit takes us to the gates of death.¹⁷ You come to realize that conscious awareness, life in mind and spirit, and living in the spirit in full conscious awareness can only arise if a principle that makes existence crumble away enters into all our growth, healthy development and progression. You come to see that death is but a single major event which we can think of as divided up, broken up into its atoms, as it were, and happening in us all the time when we gain conscious awareness in physical life. In this world, to know is to enter a little bit into something that will come all at once when we go through the gates of death.

You get to know the relationship between the conscious mind and the process of dying. In doing so, you also get to know how this conscious awareness goes through the gates of death, and that death actually awakens us to a different conscious awareness. We enter into this when we lay aside our physical body. We lay this aside, as it were, merely in order to gain such insight in images, inspiration and intuition.

If you want to get a real idea of gaining insight in the spirit, you have to get used to seeing your relationship to the world in a very different way from the one you have been used to. Above all it is necessary to give up the idea that you can somehow find the spirit by interpreting the material world, looking at it critically in some way, and by finding laws based on the material world. The laws we discover in relation to the material world only apply in that world. You will not find the spirit by interpreting the world you perceive through the senses; when you are in the physical body you find the spirit in connection with the world of the senses; but you find it through independent life in the realm of the spirit.

Let me clarify this by using an analogy. When we read sequences of words, which are letters put in a row, we do not say: There’s a vertical line, there’s a horizontal line; we do not identify the letters but consider the row of letters or words as a whole, and an inner content then arises. This content has nothing to do with identification of the letters. You must have learned to read. And something quite different from the identity of individual letters arises in the reader’s mind. You cannot find the spirit which you discover from the letters by looking in the printers’ letter case. Nor can you find the life of the spirit by spelling out nature. You will only find it if you let the soul rise beyond itself and thus find the element which extends from the spirit itself into this physical life, in so far as the soul finds itself living in the physical world between birth and death.

You see, this leads to a psychology that can well hold its own side by side with the natural sciences. It does not transfer the methods developed in the study of nature to the psyche, nor does it stop at the inner life as we know it in everyday life. Instead it brings an objective principle into the inner life, and out of this the psyche experiences itself. The living body has also been born out of this principle, as we shall see in the third lecture.

These are first, elementary indications; you will have to refer to my books for the rest. They show how human beings can find the immortal element that lies in them, and how a psychology with this anthroposophical orientation truly guides us in this direction. Then such things as happened to Franz Brentano,¹⁸ the great psychologist who died in Zurich in March this year, need no longer happen. Brentano was a significant figure, but also a tragic one in the way he bore with his thinking. He came to the study of psychology at a time when the modern scientific way of thinking was developing. He wanted to apply this approach to the inner life. One can get no further with this approach, however, than to compare ideas as to how feelings want to rise in the soul, what attention is and so on in outer physical life. In his work on psychology from the empirical standpoint—in the first volume he wrote, which has remained the only one—Franz Brentano regretted the things psychology could not achieve, saying: What help is it to us, even if we are thoroughly scientific in our approach, to compare ideas, make associations of ideas, the way inclinations and disinclinations arise, and so on, if the great hopes held by Plato and Aristotle cannot be fulfilled. They hoped that with psychology we would gain insight into how the better part of our nature lives on when we have gone through the gates of death.¹⁹

Franz Brentano regretted the fact that he did not have the means of tackling these problems. It is remarkable to see how he struggled with them to the end of his life. The straight, honest nature of his struggles is evident especially from the tragic circumstance I referred to in an obituary for Franz Brentano which appears in the third chapter of my above-mentioned book. He was always saying he would continue his book on psychology, the first volume of which had been published. The work was intended to be in four or five volumes. The first volume appeared in the spring of 1874. He promised the second for the autumn of that year, to be followed by the rest. He did not publish any of those, however. He wanted to master the inner life with the modern scientific method; he wanted to set about this in a straight and honest way. If he had been able to do so, if the modern scientific method had not been like a dead weight on his powers of investigation because he misunderstood it, he would have been able to enter through the gates into a life in the spirit that gathers something from the depths of the soul that cannot be there if one has only the methods of modern science.

We can see from the tragedy of Franz Brentano’s life as a scientist—and of the lives of many others, but especially in his case, because he was such a significant figure who at the same time was absolutely honest—that there is a need for a psychology that can only be found through inner experiences gained out of the living body. Then the great problems can be considered again, issues that must be foremost in the minds of those who consider their own inner life—the problem of immortal life, if we find the truly immortal part by the methods I have described, and also the problem of free will, which we are going to consider later on in these lectures. These are the two most important and compelling problems. But look at the works on psychology published in recent years. These problems are completely left aside in them; indeed, they have disappeared from psychological studies, simply for the reasons we have been considering today.

There is more to it, however, than being able to work with those great questions. The insights psychologists are seeking with methods they have developed by going more deeply into the modern scientific approach can only be fully clear if one can consider them from the point of view which I have indicated. That is the way it is. Modern science will prove valid on the one hand, the science of the spirit and spiritual investigation on the other. But it is just the way it is when one is digging a tunnel from two sides and must have worked things out carefully in advance so that one may meet in the middle. Spiritual science and natural science must come together if the knowledge and insight sought by humanity is to be a whole.

Let me give you just one example of how ordinary psychology, too, can be conquered if we enter the higher regions which I have briefly outlined today. Among the questions considered by people who do research in psychology are those concerning memory or recall. It is enough to drive you to despair to see how the memory problem is dealt with in the ordinary approaches to psychology. There you can really see the frontier posts in the process of gaining insight. Someone has an idea which he develops from something he has perceived through the senses; this idea then ‘goes down’ into the soul sphere; it ‘vanishes’, as they say, and later the person is able to recall it. Where has it been?

I won’t go into everything that has been said on the matter for centuries. On the one hand people say that such ideas vanish into the unconscious and then come up again across the threshold to conscious awareness. I’d like to know someone who is able to find any real meaning in such words as he says them. All meaning is immediately lost when you talk of ideas ‘going down’ and ‘coming up’. You can say anything; but you cannot envisage it; for it does not relate to any kind of reality. Psychologists more inclined towards physiology will talk about ‘traces engraved’ in the nervous system or brain; these traces then ‘call’ the ideas ‘up again’. People try painfully to explain how the idea which has gone down is dug out from those traces. As I said, it can drive you to despair when you consider the different approaches to psychology. Just think of how much serious, noble, genuine research effort goes into working on these problems. We certainly would not deny that such honest and genuine work is being done.

In truth, however, this simple fact relating to the inner life can only be seen in the right light if we consider it with the power in our souls that has the spiritual organs to observe the ordinary inner life, too, from the point of view taken in the world of the spirit. You then find that there is no question of an idea which I have ‘going down’ to anywhere or ‘coming up’ again somewhere. People altogether have the wrong idea of memory. An idea I form on the basis of something perceived in the world around me does not live in me as something real at all, but as a mirror image which the soul creates by means of the body’s mirroring. We will go into this in the third lecture. And this idea lives only now! It is no longer there once I have lost it from the inner life. There is no such thing as ideas going down and coming up again, thus creating memories. The commonly held idea of memory is wrong.

What matters is this. Having sharpened the soul’s power to see things in the spirit, you see—you can observe this in the spirit just as you observe things in the world outside—that something else is going on at the same time as we form an idea based on something we have perceived. It is not the process of forming the idea but this other, unconscious process running parallel to it which produces something that does not come directly to conscious awareness but lives on in me. So if I have an idea, a subconscious process develops that is wholly bound up with the physical body. When occasion arises to call this process up again, the idea forms again because the soul now looks to this process, which is a purely bodily one. A remembered idea is a new idea created from the depths of the living body. It is like the earlier idea because it has been called up in the unconscious process that had been produced in the living body. The soul reads the engram engraved in the body, as it were, when it recalls an idea.

This, then, does correct the ideas ordinarily held by psychologists. You now have the right idea instead of something perceived in entirely the wrong way in ordinary experience. I could go through the whole of psychology with you and show you many points where genuine insight shows that the inner experiences which people think they have prove to be illusory. People have quite wrong ideas about the inner life, and these need to be corrected by the soul coming free of the body and then observing its life from a truly spiritual point of view.

It is exactly with ideas like these, which on the one hand really make the spirit accessible to scientific study, that on the other hand the fruits of faithful hard work with the modern scientific method in experimental psychology and physiological psychology as well as other fields find their right place. Anthroposophically orientated spiritual science is neither hostile nor unsympathetic towards such work. Knowing that the ordinary methods developed in the study of the physical world cannot solve but only raise questions, real questions, work done in spiritual science can make the results of natural scientific investigation truly fruitful by casting a new light on those questions.

The work done in anthroposophically orientated spiritual science is truly moving towards natural science, like digging a tunnel from opposite directions. Another example will show this. Scientists with a Darwinian orientation have recently made some very interesting findings, which I am going to tell you about in a minute. But first let me say that the unconscious activity which underlies memory recall is something different from the powers of heredity or of growth, but, having developed parallel to the forming of ideas, it is also related to those powers. Powers that take effect at an unconscious level when we form an idea on the basis of sensory perceptions are related to the powers that grow in us. They create dispositions in the living body that can later be read, leading to memory recall. Genuine observation in the soul gives us a clear idea of how the powers of memory relate to those of heredity and growth. A bridge is built—we will be saying more about such bridges in the next few days—between soul and spirit on the one hand and the living body on the other.

Consider how Darwinian Richard Semon starts with heredity in his very interesting book, with the emergence of characteristics, and then brings these hereditary powers together with the powers of memory.²⁰ The scientist thus sees a relationship between hereditary and memory powers. The psychologist has come to connect the unconscious powers that lie behind heredity with those of memory recall.

These things happen quite independently of one another. What Richard Semon called ‘mneme’ in his most interesting book agrees with the views held in anthroposophically orientated psychology, where consideration extends to regions in the human being that are also studied by modern scientific methods. We will speak of this in the third lecture.

What I have been saying today at an elementary level about the results of genuine spiritual experience in the soul that provide the basis for a more up-to-date psychology, must inevitably sound strange in many ways to people used to thinking in the way that is usual today. This is perfectly understood by someone who is in the midst of these things, yet perhaps one may also say that it needs more than just hearing an interesting lecture. You need to enter deeply into the serious process of spiritual scientific investigation. You will find that one’s powers are used differently from the way they are in natural science, but that the route followed in anthroposophical research is no less serious, no less demanding than the route taken in natural scientific research. The fact is, however, that the fruits, the results of natural science only provide the starting point for spiritual research. We come to concepts, ideas and natural laws when we want to investigate the natural world. We make it our premise that the work done in natural science takes us to the frontier posts from which we set out to make investigations in the science of the spirit and in anthroposophical psychology.

I would say, therefore, that psychology based on anthroposophy should not be said to go against the justifiable demands of today’s natural scientific way of thinking. Quite the contrary. It does not reject anything resulting from justifiable investigations in natural science. Nowhere does it oppose such justifiable science. However, it cannot stop at merely drawing logical conclusions from things that are already given in natural science. Spiritual science is not a philosophy where one merely wants to draw conclusions based on natural science. No! In anthroposophically orientated spiritual science we have to adopt a different device, the device that this spiritual investigation must follow from natural science not as an abstract logical conclusion, but as a live offspring.

The spiritual investigator holds the belief, which is stronger than the belief of many a natural scientist who rejects spiritual investigation, that natural science is sufficiently robust not only to lead to its logical consequences but to bring forth, from itself, as it were, something that is very much alive. This has its own vital energies and must thrive by having its own independent life. This is what the science of the spirit should be, a science which natural science itself demands.

Questions and answers

Several questions related to repeated lives on earth.

Ladies and gentlemen, the nature of the questions which have been asked is such that a brief answer cannot be satisfactory. One would indeed have to speak volumes to answer them in full. First of all we have the question:

What purpose does reincarnation serve?

Well, ladies and gentlemen, essentially the question as to purpose—I have to answer in a scientific way, otherwise it is just empty words—and the question as to reason—I am afraid I cannot go into the question as to whether teleology is justifiable or not—is a question arising in the physical world and therefore has validity in the physical world. Reincarnation—if we want to use this term for repeated lives on earth—I like to avoid jargon, which is why I spoke of ‘repeated lives on earth’—is governed by laws that belong to the world of the spirit and have significance in that world. This is something people find most difficult to get used to—that in moving from the physical world to the world of the spirit one must also change, or metamorphose, one’s concepts, and that concepts which apply in the physical world lose in significance, in importance, when we enter into the world of the spirit. Once you have started to know the nature of the spiritual world you do not really ask about the ‘purpose of the human being’ the way one would ask about the purpose of a machine, and certainly not about the ‘purpose of reincarnation’.

I said in my lecture that the way of thinking developed in the natural sciences is essentially the way of thinking developed in relation to the physical world around us. It will at best lead to the right questions being asked. One must then, however, seek to obtain the answers from the world of the spirit.

Someone asking: ‘What purpose does reincarnation serve?’ will of course have a reason for asking. There is a need to know, despite the fact that the question as to the purpose is not really applicable in the sphere one is dealing with. I would, however, ask you to consider the following. I would like to say that I have to bring together the building blocks needed to answer these questions. The science of the spirit is not like something you can quickly make your own by using a small handbook. It is in fact a very comprehensive field.

When we ask questions in life, one way is to continue with further questions until we come to an end. But this may not apply in every case. You see I am asked a question like this one hundreds of times. On many occasions I have said the following on the subject: People wanting to go from Zurich to Rome may want to know the route. And indeed, if no one in Zurich is able to give them the exact route, in every detail, they may decide that they don’t want to go to Rome after all. On the other hand there may be people who’ll be happy to know the route from Zurich to Lugano, and once in Lugano will be satisfied to learn how they should go on from there, and later on again how to go further. This is an analogy. It is meant to say that when we are in one life on earth, this has relevance for subsequent lives on earth. We have a progression. We are going to gain things in other lives on earth that we are not going to gain in this one. We go through experiences that present different trials and learning experiences. If we were able to answer all questions in this life on earth, then this life would not generate future lives on earth.

For the science of the spirit, it is therefore a matter of presenting the fact of reincarnation, if I am to use that term. Just as an individual gives purpose to a particular life on earth out of a free impulse, so he will give successive purposes, with one arising from the other, to repeated lives on earth. And he will not imagine that he can define the whole compass of human existence—which involves a number of lives one earth—in one of those lives. You altogether get out of the habit of producing definitions meant to be comprehensive when you enter into the true inner life in the spirit. Definitions are quite useful in ordinary physical life; in the life of the spirit, where it is all about perspectives, we are reminded, when someone just asks for definitions, of the example of a definition given in Greek literature. Asked how to define a human being, it was said—for definitions must always refer to individual characteristics—that a human being was a creature with two legs and no feathers.²¹ The next time someone brought along a cockerel which he had plucked—a ‘human being’!

Well, I do of course know the requirements for a proper logical definition. However, from the spiritual point of view, definitions show definite bias. So do all statements of purpose, of causality, and so on. Reality is something into which you find your way, in which you are alive and active, but you do not define it using biased terms. You will find the purposes in successive lives on earth. But when someone asks about the ‘purpose of reincarnation’, this lacks substance.

Question. Is reincarnation a product of ideas developed in the spiritual realm?

Well, ladies and gentlemen, one might say so. One will, however, have to take into account what I said in my book. The kind of ideas we have in our ordinary way of thinking are not really true ideas from the spiritual point of view. They have been deprived of life and are like corpses of ideas. This is the strange thing. Much more lives in the soul than does normally come to conscious awareness. Much of it is partly deprived of life because we would be unable to bear it in our ordinary way of thinking. It is then like the corpse of an idea. Hence the abstract notions we have. They are really only a reflection, something that arises and passes away again. We do not remember it at all, as I have shown in the lecture. Behind it, however, is the living, spiritual reality which enters into vision in images, which goes through death and does live in the powers of reincarnation. Perhaps this would answer the question.

Question. Does reincarnation follow absolute established laws rather than being the outcome of creative etheric powers?

Only life between birth and death, or rather conception and death, is the outcome of creative etheric powers. The principle we are calling ‘reincarnation’ is subject to much higher spiritual laws. It is difficult to say if it is ‘established law’; it is simply a fact. Repeated lives on earth are a fact. ‘Outcome of creative etheric powers?’ Human beings only acquire an ether body as they are moving towards conception; they lay it aside again after death; the body of creative powers is not eternal, as I said in my lecture. But the powers to be considered when we speak of the laws of reincarnation do not enter into the human I’s awareness nor do they enter into the sphere of the ordinary physical world.

You see, the way would open up for many people even in this realm if we were only to look for it in the right way. The point is—and I have spoken of this with reference to individual instances—that experiences gained in the world of the spirit seem paradoxical compared to those we have in everyday life. In many respects the things you find in the other world are completely different from those we know in the physical world. We have to say that with their capacity for forming ideas based on experiences gained in natural life, through natural events, human beings are hardly able to go beyond ideas relating to space. Honest and more accurate self knowledge shows how little we are able to go beyond concepts of space. Just consider, how do we gain ideas of time? Really from ideas of space. Changes in space, the sun’s and moon’s changes in position, and indeed the hands of a clock in our case—that is how we gain our ideas of time. In reality they are ideas of space. The spiritual principle, on the other hand, lives in time even in its lowest form, which is the body of creative powers. Here we need a real idea of time!

Very few people are able to get a real idea of time today. And one is even less able to get a real idea of the different velocities—not times, therefore, but velocities—that apply in the realm of soul and spirit. Our inner life depends on the fact that our thinking, the forming of ideas, for instance, goes at quite a different speed from our feeling, and this again goes at a different speed from our doing. These things—that different velocities are layered one inside the other in the inner life—actually cause conscious awareness to arise in us. Conscious awareness only arises where something meets with interference. This is actually why it is also related to death—for death interferes with life. But it is altogether the situation that interference occurs. This is why Bergson’s view is so wrong, for instance, that one should always look to life and movement;²² instead we come to the nature of movement by impeding it, and to the nature of life by seeing how death takes hold of life. To enter into the essential nature of life is something different from having a view of life.

All this makes us realize that the nature of law itself changes when you enter into the life of the spirit, and many people find this highly inconvenient. They therefore do not even take courage and enter into that life with their concepts and ideas, for those concepts and ideas would have to change. In genuine spiritual investigation you essentially get to know this very, very well. I do not like to bring in anything personal, for personal elements have not much to do with being objective. But many years ago an important question arose for me which has proved fruitful in a particular field. Herbart²³ and other psychologists applied arithmetic or mathematics to research in their field; they tried to calculate facts relating to the psyche. Eduard von Hartmann²⁴ even tried to calculate facts that must be taken in a moral sense when he undertook to establish the basis of pessimism mathematically. He put all pleasures on the debit side of life and all negative experiences on the credit side, and then said: the negative experiences show a surplus; therefore life is bad.

I have shown the whole of this to be nonsense. You will find the proof I gave in my Philosophy of Spiritual Activity²⁵ written in 1894. If you want to speak of calculations, you have to make quite a different start, not establishing the balance by subtraction but writing a division, a fraction, making all pleasure, delight, experiences that prove elevating in life the enumerator and all pain and suffering the denominator. Let us look at this division. When would life seem to be no longer worth living? If the denominator were zero, if there were no pain at all, the figure would be infinitely great. But the denominator would have to be infinitely great if the fraction were to equal zero. This means that life would no longer seem worth living only if the pain was infinitely great. This cannot be decided by any kind of abstract reckoning but only by life itself. Life does its reckoning in this way.

When it comes to the psyche, we cannot do calculations about inner events the way Herbart or Hartmann wanted to do it. Life gives the result, and when you get up into the worlds of the spirit the result divides up—a sum into summands, a fraction into enumerator and denominator. You get exactly the opposite. Here in physical life, you have the individual summands and enumerators and denominators and then get your result. There it is the other way round. You have the result, it is inner experience, and the individual elements that lead to the result go into the world of the spirit. So you see, many of our ideas have to be completely rethought if we want to cross the threshold from the physical world to the world of the spirit.

Perhaps the things I have said in connection with this question will give you the idea that this science of the spirit really is not something straight off the bat, nor is it the offspring of fantasy. It is something which, as I said in the lecture, needs no less effort to gain than any other kind of scientific work. Only the powers needed for this belong to another sphere. We therefore have to say that there is a law to the progression of repeated lives on earth. But the nature of this law is something we must first of all get hold of. This is why I said it is not a matter of interpreting natural phenomena but of truly rising above them so that we may live freely in the spirit inwardly. This, then, answers the question.

Now a strange question—strange after this lecture: Question: Which are the spiritual organs of touch?

Well, we should not think of this as something physical. I made it quite clear that it is something that exists in the realm of soul and spirit and can only be compared with something that arises from memory. If you want the kind of answer where you have the specific ‘spiritual organs of touch’ and are then looking for a generic term, you’ll not achieve anything. Instead, we have to find our way through, as I have shown. The soul reaches limits, differentiates and develops ‘spiritual organs of touch’ which in the realm of soul and spirit can be compared to the organs of touch we have in the physical realm, just as we may compare ‘eyes of the spirit’ and ‘ears of the spirit’ with physical eyes and physical ears.

Question. Are there clear definitions of what we understand by 'belief’?

I would really need to give you the history and origins of the word ‘belief’ to make the answer complete, and then show how the different kinds of belief evolved from this. Let me say the following, however. In more recent times the meaning of the word ‘belief’ has been limited to ‘taking something to be true’ on a subjective basis—insight, therefore, that is not real insight but a subjective surrogate of insight. The word did not always have such a limited meaning. To understand the background to the idea of belief we have to consider the following.

In today’s lecture I mentioned just briefly that the soul related to reality in a different way in earlier times. It has only come to stand apart from the reality of the natural world in more recent times. In those earlier times, when the soul was still more closely connected with the spiritual reality and had developed an inner awareness of soul content that was other than it has to be now in modern anthroposophy, people knew that if they took something to be true, this was not just a theoretical attitude, for their believing something to be true also had the power of living reality in it. If I have an ideal and believe in my ideal, this is not just a matter of letting the idea of the ideal be present in the mind; a power of soul connects with the ideal. And this is part of the human being’s reality. Human beings are involved in creating reality. Here ‘belief’ means a positive way of generating inner power.

The concept ‘belief’ is presented in a similar way in Ricarda Huch’s interesting book on Luther’s faith.²⁶ There, too, the concept of belief is found to be not just believing something to be true but connecting oneself with the reality as it evolves. I would like to say that when one is in the power of belief, one has something in oneself like the seed which a plant holds in itself; it is not yet a real plant but has the power to grow into a real plant.

Belief thus should not be the image or reflection of an insight but an element in the realm of ideas that connects with a genuine power, so that we are wholly within reality with our belief. And if someone were to insist that belief gives him no insight, he would nevertheless have to admit that if he uses the concept ‘belief’ in this way, the reality in it places him in the real world.

These are just hints, brief comments.

• 1. See Steiner R. Von Seelenrätseln, IV. Skizzenhafte Erweiterungen des Inhalts dieser Schrift, 8. Ein oft erhobener Einwand gegen die Anthroposophie. GA 21.
• 2. Emil Du Bois-Reymond (1818–1896). Swiss-born professor of physiology in Berlin. Lecture entitled ‘Ueber die Grenzen des Naturerkennens’ given in Leipzig on 14 August 1872.
• 3. Steiner R. The Riddle of Man. Tr. W. Lindemann. Spring Valley: Mercury Press 1990.
• 4. Vischer, Friedrich Theodor (1807–1887). Altes und Neues. Stuttgart 1881, Erste Abteilung.
• 5. Volkelt, Johannes. Die Traum-Phantasie. Stuttgart 1875.
• 6. Vischer, Friedrich Theodor, loc. cit. I, S. 194: ‘The soul, as the highest union of all processes, cannot, however, be located in the body, though it does not exist anywhere but in the body.’
• 7. Du Bois-Reymond, as note 2. ‘The seven riddles of the world’ lecture was given at a public meeting at the Royal Academy of Sciences in Berlin to celebrate the Leibniz anniversary on 8 July 1880. Publ. Leipzig 1882.
• 8. See Von Seelenrätseln (note 1), Kap. IV, 6, S. 150 ff.
• 9. As note 4, S. 229 f.
• 10. ‘We learn to see with eyes of the spirit. Without them we stumble about blindly as in anything else and thus also in the study of nature.’ Goethe, Erster Entwurf einer allgemeinen Einleitung in die vergleichende Anatomie, ausgehend von der Osteologie VII, B (1795), in Naturwissenschaftliche Schriften herausgegeben und kommentiert von Rudolf Steiner in Kuerschners Deutsche National-Litteratur (1883-97), 5 Bände, Nachdruck Dornach 1975, GA Bibl.-Nr. la-e, Bd. 1, GA Bibl.-Nr. la, S. 262. With ref. to ‘ears of the spirit’, see also Goethe’s Faust 2, Act 1, Pleasing landscape, ‘Hark, the Hours, with furious winging, Bear to spirit-ears the ringing Rumours of the new day-springing.’ Tr. P. Wayne. Penguin Books 1959.
• 11. Spiritual organs of touch - see questions and answers following the lecture.
• 12. Bergson, Henri (1859–1941), French philosopher.
• 13. Steiner R. The Riddle of Man (note 3).
• 14. See also public lectures Errors in Spiritual Investigation given in Berlin on 6 March 1913; tr. WW. Ringwald, A. Wulsin. Spring Valley: Mercury Press 1983 (from GA 62), and ‘Die Wege der übersinnlichen Erkenntnis’, Berlin, 21 Nov, 1912, in Ergebnisse der Geistesforschung, GA 62. Lectures to members in Dornach on 1 and 2 July 1921 in Steiner R. Therapeutic Insights (from GA 205), tr. M. Laird-Brown, A. Wulsin, G. Kamow. Spring Valley: Mercury Press 1984.
• 15. See Von Seelenrätseln ( as note 1).
• 16. Also called ‘formative forces body’ by some translators. [Tr.] For basic details see Steiner R. Theosophy (various translations) I, 4; Steiner R. Occult Science (GA 13; various translations), chapter on essential nature of humanity, and subsection on human ether body.
• 17. In his Phaedo (67 d-e), Plato had Socrates say: "... people really do not seem to have an idea that men who are faithful followers of philosophy are in life, in their whole lives, concerned over nothing but their dying and their death. And if that is true, it would be entirely wrong to think of death all one's life and then in the hour of death turn against one’s own wish and goal." Sec also Rudolf Steiner on Arnold Fortlage in the lecture of 7 November 1917 in this volume.
• 18. Brentano, Franz (1838–1917), German psychologist and philosopher. Rudolf Steiner had written about Franz Brentano in an essay on the future of psychology in 1893 (in Methodische Grundlagen der Anthroposophie, GA 30), referring to his views on extending the natural scientific approach to certain areas, for instance in psychology. The essay concludes: ‘General acceptance of Brentano’s statement would for me mean the general decline and decay of philosophy.’ Rudolf Steiner also wrote extensively in appreciation of Brentano, e.g. in Von Seelenrätseln (note 1), and spoke about him in a lecture he gave in Berlin on 12 December 1911 (in A psychology of Body, Soul and Spirit, GA 115, tr. M. Spock; Hudson: Anthroposophie Press 1999).
• 19. The actual words are: ‘For the hopes Plato and Aristotle had of gaining certainty concerning the continued existence of the better part of us once the body has dissolved, the laws of association of ideas, the development of convictions and opinions and the budding and growth of pleasure and love would be anything but genuine compensation ... And if the difference between the two views did truly mean accepting or rejecting the question of immortality, it would have to be considered highly significant for psychology, and we would inevitably have to enter into a metaphysical investigation of substance as the vehicle for states and conditions.’ Psychologie vom empirischen Standpunkte, Leipzig 1874, S. 20.
• 20. Semon, Richard (1859–1919). Die Mneme als erhaltendes Prinzip im Wechsel des organischen Geschehens. Dritte Auflage, Leipzig 1911. Semon explored changes in organic matter (plant, animal, human) due to external stimuli. He called them engrams and the ‘sum of engrams an organism possesses’ its ‘engram resource’, distinction having to be made between an ‘inherited and an individually acquired engram resource’. ‘The name I give to the phenomena in an organism resulting from the presence of a particular engram or sum of engrams, is “mnemic phenomena”. The quintessence of an organism’s mnemic faculties I call “Mneme”.’ S. (page) 15. Semon deliberately avoided the terms ‘memory’ and ‘recall’, using instead a terminology that ‘permitted’ him ‘to abstract from this completely whether or not the material processes concerned manifest through higher conscious sentience in the given case or not.’ S. (page) 390.
• 21. Diogenes Laertius (2nd century AD), Greek writer. Peri bion doniaton kai apophthegmaton ton en philosophia endokimesanton (lives of the Greek philosophers). Book 6, ch. 2, 40: ‘When Plato made the definition that man is a two-legged featherless creature, and people applauded this, he [Diogenes of Sinope] plucked a cockerel and brought him to the school, saying: This is Plato’s man.’
• 22. Bergson, Henri (1859–1941), French philosopher and Nobel Prize winner. His views on our inability to grasp life, or anything that moves, in our thoughts are above all presented in La pensée et le mouvant. Essais et conférences, 3rd edn, Paris 1934, especially in the lecture given in Bologna on 10 April 1911, entitled ‘L’intuition philosophique’.
• 23. Herbart, Johann Friedrich (1776–1841), German philosopher and educationist. See his Psychologie als Wissenschaft neu gegruendet auf Erfahrung, Metaphysik und Mathematik, Koenigsberg 1824.
• 24. Hartmann, Eduard von (1842–1906), German philosopher.
• 25. See Steiner, Rudolf The Philosophy of Spiritual Activity (GA 4), Tr. R. Stebbing rev. Bristol: Rudolf Steiner Press 1963. ch. 13. A number of other translations have been published, the most recent being Intuitive Thinking as a Spiritual Path. A Philosophy of Freedom. Tr. M. Lipson. Hudson: Anthroposophic Press 1995.
• 26. Huch, Ricarda (1864–1947), German novelist and historian. Luthers Glaube, Briefe an einen Freund (Luther’s faith, letters to a friend), Leipzig 1916. See also Rudolf Steiner's lecture on Luther given in Berlin on 11 September 1917, in Karma of Materialism (GA 176) tr. R. Stebbing; New York & London: Anthroposophic Press & Rudolf Steiner Press 1985.

Morning Session:

The chairman, Mr. Emil Leinhas, opens the meeting at 9 a.m. Mr. Wilhelm Goyert, Cologne, Mr. Wilh. Salewski, Düsseldorf, Miss Maria Hachez, Stuttgart, Mr. Fritz and Mrs. Ilse Wittenstein, Barmen, Miss Toni Förster, Cologne, Mr. Andreas Grunelius, Freiburg, Miss Erika Linke, Stuttgart, Mrs. Marie Wundt, Düsseldorf, propose the following motion for the agenda:

Agenda

Some members and delegates of the Anthroposophical Society are convinced that the path taken so far offers no possibility of reaching an understanding and overcoming the crisis. The discussion on the first evening showed that there is no general point of view from which a discussion could be fruitful. Even in the leadership, there was a difference of opinion. Mr. Leinhas pointed out that the expected overall report should provide “an orientation”. Mr. Kolisko, on the other hand, understood his report as something that should enable a general discussion, a description of local conditions, and was astonished that the discussion was getting out of hand. It is not possible for the delegates' meeting to continue on this basis.

First of all, the assembly should be presented with the issues on which we all agree and towards which we are all striving: the anthroposophical ideal. The lady from Dresden and Pastor Rittelmeyer tried to do this. This was not taken up by the leadership and did not find fertile ground among the assembled. The call was not designed to create such a situation.

Even if some points are rejected, an attempt could still be made to present the appeal as providing direction for the discussion. But it would have to be read backwards, so to speak. Then the following points would emerge, which could lead to clarification in an organically determined way:

1. Setting out the anthroposophical ideal.
2. Explanation of the basis for communication from person to person in the sense of the Anthroposophical Society. This would lead to
3. A new relationship with Dr. Steiner.
4. Attitude towards the opposition.
5. Statement on the existing institutions, etc.

We believe that this approach is more likely to lead to a general understanding and we request that the leadership of the Assembly of Delegates read this as “agenda” for the meeting.

The motion is put forward for discussion.

Dr. Hans Büchenbacher, Stuttgart: Dr. Kolisko was justified in saying that the meeting did not produce what he had expected after his lecture. The main reason for this, however, is that many friends were not sufficiently aware of the catastrophic situation in society, due to the way the call was formulated and the lecture itself. In the youth movement there was close contact with the Stuttgart office, and in these circles people were informed about the situation. Yesterday afternoon, for example, we had a really fruitful meeting in the Hochschulbund, where we were able to speak positively. The Stuttgart headquarters no longer had any lively connection with the branches. — Out of a sense of routine, the Stuttgart headquarters developed an outward-looking approach that led to unsuccessful events in many places. The anthroposophical impulses were brought to the outside world in such a way that they were met with resistance everywhere. These matters were handled in such a bureaucratic way, as in the military. We have made many enemies as a result, and have certainly not gained any connections with the outside world. On the other hand, in Stuttgart people rightly miss all kinds of branch life. This life has declined more and more, a kind of slumber has set in in many cases, or the evenings have been kept simple in the traditional way. The branches themselves are to blame for this. If in recent years someone who, through studying Dr. Steiner's works, had formed a certain idea of what the Anthroposophical Society should be like, joined such a branch, they often experienced a severe shock that made them want to leave again, or at least stay away from the evenings. It was recognized that the Anthroposophical Society had fallen behind what Dr. Steiner had given, especially in the development of humanity. The golden rule from the book “How to Know Higher Worlds” has been ignored: “When you make a step forward in the knowledge of secret truths, then make three steps forward at the same time in the perfection of your character for the better."

But in many cases, ordinary social morality has been lacking in the branches; the new members were not even introduced to the old members, they had to sit there like strangers. We would have to take it seriously, to strive for the development of the inner human being in an anthroposophical sense, then we would also find the connection with people on the outside. The outside world would have to say, we like the people who represent Anthroposophy.

Above all, however, we here on both sides must now say to each other: Oh well, enmity, quarrels or resentment, that does not exist, we must stand together. If the call and the introductory lecture have already been carried out in such a way that contact with the assembled has not been established, we delegates must try to criticize in all love and show the people of Stuttgart: This is how you can reconnect with us. It is true that the Stuttgart members are in absolute isolation; of course it is a splendid isolation (laughter and strong applause), but they cannot get out of it on their own. And when one knows how hard they have worked in Stuttgart in recent weeks to get out of this catastrophic situation, one must wholeheartedly say: We want to help these people to get out of this isolation. It will work if they express themselves in such a way that they are carried by the consciousness of striving for an anthroposophical humanity.

Mr. Alfred Reebstein, Karlsruhe, wishes to speak from the same feeling as the previous speaker. He asks for a judgment to be made on the issues at hand. Dr. Steiner had to say at the congress: I have often spoken, but people have not listened. Many would better see the seriousness and terrible implications if it were announced what Dr. Steiner said about these things in the two lectures here.

Mr. Alfred Überhahm, Breslau: We need guidelines for the Society to work on. Dr. Steiner gave two four-line sayings as a cosmic cultic act. This has not been put into practice. The speaker proposes that these words may be spoken in the branches.

Mr. Leinhas hands over the chair to Dr. Palmer.

Mr. Emil Leinhas, Stuttgart: One can only agree with what Dr. Büchenbacher said. The participants were not satisfied with yesterday's general discussion. We are already obliged not only to criticize, but to take action ourselves and make things better.

Mr. Leinhas suggests dropping the motions because there will be opportunities to speak on the individual topics during the discussion. He asks to tie in with Dr. Kolisko's presentation because everyone is concerned. He reminds us of the importance of our cause. He then asks not to hold back with criticism. He says that the Central Executive Committee is being made out to be a bogeyman, a laughing stock. Criticism should be directed at this. It need not be unfruitful if everyone is filled with a holy zeal for the cause. It should be added what should have been done and how it can continue.

Mr. Albert Steffen, Dornach: It is not my intention to be critical here, because I am convinced that this self-destruction is of no use at all. We have known about these things for a long time and should now start to speak more positively. I believe that, above all, it should be said that anthroposophy as such should give our society its configuration, that is, that which Dr. Steiner gives us out of the spiritual should be translated into the real. First of all, it should be said that this anthroposophy has freedom as its basis. It demands of each individual that he seek the impulses for his moral action in his own I. It demands, then, an ethical individualism. “Act so that you are sufficient unto yourself, that you have love for the idea, then it will be possible for the whole to be in harmony!”

The first fundamental requirement of our society is that the individual is a personality and, as such, says “Yes” to himself; as such, has confidence in himself. If he searches within himself, finds creativity and applies this creativity, then the whole of our society will also become more consolidated. — A multitude of creative personalities is necessary first.

It was said at the beginning that our society suffers from the fact that there are so many individualities that do not go together. But if these individualities think, feel and act in accordance with freedom, a whole will come about. We need original people among us, but they must not be mere originals, village or town originals, two-part originals, or a kind of domestic fool. The only way to prevent them from becoming such is for them to absorb anthroposophy as a whole.

Yesterday, a lady said in a very heartfelt way that anthroposophy is a human being. It is a human being and it is the greatest human being. It is a spiritual-soul entity, and we have to absorb this within us so that we do not become loners as personalities. But we can only do this by making the attempt to truly penetrate into the spiritual and soul life, into the supersensible. And in my opinion, the only way to do this is through the exercises, mainly the exercises found in the book 'How to Know Higher Worlds'. This practice, in order to truly penetrate into the spiritual and soul, is the second basic condition of our society. Without it, inner consolidation is not possible at all, and even less so an external one. Above all, this must be demanded of the leading personalities among us.

For example, you all know that Goethe and Schiller were actually natures that were opposed to each other. They were unsympathetic to each other during a certain period of their lives. And the moment when they actually became friends occurred at that meeting of naturalists where Schiller began to talk to Goethe about the primal plant, where Schiller thus began to comprehend the spiritual soul life of the plant. At that moment, Goethe became his friend, and from that point on, the process began that would lead to the tremendous epoch. What Goethe found in the soul and spirit of the primal plant can be found much more easily through the exercises that Dr. Steiner has given us about the plant world. Just imagine if such exercises were carried out in one of our institutes: it would inevitably lead to the people working there becoming friends, to them becoming creative, to what they bring to light radiating out from them into the whole of culture. Nothing radiates from our universities, our lecture halls and laboratories, for example, because the spiritual and soul life is not grasped there among the professors, the lecturers and the students. In those organizations, the connection is found by having an exam ahead of you, that is, through a certain fear. That cannot be the case with us. The only motivation for us can be to seek to penetrate into the spiritual-soul, into the supersensible, as it is presented, for example, in the introductions to Goethe's scientific writings. Dr. Steiner has given such exercises for physicists, for chemists, for physicians, for sociologists, but also for human beings as such. One imagines that in our branches, too, people would really think in a lively way, which is the first exercise; this branch life would flare up again. It cannot flare up in any other way than precisely in this way. At the moment when a person who really brings something from the supersensible world speaks to us, we are a society that has a real life again. You will experience the proof when Dr. Steiner speaks himself. Then all these disputes will disappear and we will feel united among ourselves again. But for that to happen, everyone, especially every leader, would have to become a true disciple of Dr. Steiner in this respect. Or consider, for example, how and why eurythmy has flourished. But only because Dr. Steiner grasped the word as such in such a spiritually appropriate way. That is how one lives eurythmy. That is how it brings this impulse of beauty into our culture. Or think of the Waldorf School, which is to be taken quite positively. What distinguishes the Waldorf School from other schools? That the teachers there have worked something of the spiritual and soul within themselves; that a Waldorf school spirit could arise from this. All of this is very much appreciated.

When I traveled here from Dornach, I was actually very much looking forward to Stuttgart because I knew that I would find important people here. I knew that I would be enriched as a human being and as a poet through them. I was certain that I would find an important philologist here, an important historian, an important scholar of mythology, etc. And I took a notebook with me to take something home. I wanted to enrich myself. By chance, I picked up a notebook that was old, that contained a small diary that I kept before the war, four weeks before the war, when I myself worked on the construction, in which I recorded my great love for the construction, my enthusiasm for carving. I wrote a sentence: It is evening, I am very tired, can hardly move my hand. Then I look at the building again and I feel refreshed. Or I describe how I looked at the building and then went out into the quiet night and felt the stars in a completely new way. This building was a living organism for me. It was what anthroposophy should be for us, namely a spiritual-soul human being to an even greater extent. It was a being. Dr. Steiner once said to me: The building wants to hear something new, it wants lectures in which truly creative people speak. All of us in Dornach felt this building as a being, and we felt its burning down as the loss of a being.

Here, esteemed attendees, I have once again come from Stuttgart _ without actually wanting to _ to one that also seems important to me because it is important not only for Germany but for the whole world. I have the feeling that one should look further, beyond Germany, one should note that the anthroposophical cause has become an international one. We receive letters from Russia. Eminent people come from there to Dornach and tell us what is happening in Moscow, how they are working there, how they are trying to make an impact there. We receive letters from England, from Australia. An Anthroposophical Society has even been formed in New Zealand, which is joining the Dornach Society. All this is tremendously important. Therefore, the German Society, on which so much depends, must now be positive. The consolidation of the Society as a whole depends first and foremost on Germany. If we do not become a strong Society in Germany, the reconstruction of the Goetheanum is endangered; because it makes no sense to have a building if you have no Society.

It has been said that this building will not be so beautiful. Dr. Steiner will carry out this building; it will be a work of his hands and we will love it even if it is not so beautiful. I do not believe that at all. It will be different; in my opinion it will be more fortified against the outside world. It will not be made of wood but of concrete. It will have a stone armor. It will perhaps be more reminiscent of something that could be seen in the catacombs, spiritually and soulfully. It will be a castle. And I would like to end what I have said by asking you to carry this image within you. I believe that if you have this image of this armored structure, then you will also arm yourself. You will become strong. You will be able to repel the enemies. Then, what Dr. Steiner once said, will not matter at all, no matter what these enemies are, we will be armored. And if these enemies come against us with cannons, as Dr. Steiner said, we can be indifferent —- if we only have spirit in us and with it the right to exist! The gods will not abandon us.

Mr. Leinhas resumes the chair: Mr. Steffen has shown that it is possible to speak to the point.

Mrs. Gertrud Müller-Thalwitzer, Königsberg, speaks about the work in eastern Germany and suggests that branches that are close to each other geographically organize themselves together, for example, Danzig and Königsberg. One could also expect something from annual “regional conferences” of individual parts of Germany, since the individual regions of Germany are quite different. Dr. Steiner's cycles, especially the older ones, are often no longer available; making it easier to borrow for branch work would be a welcome task. Then something should be created to secure the material situation of the branches or branch offices; this is particularly important in view of the subversive work of opponents, which could cost some people their livelihoods today simply because they are anthroposophists. It would therefore also be a task to promote a spirit of helpfulness among the members.

She suggested setting up a “main relief fund” for members of the Society in need.

Rudolf Steiner: I do not really want to intervene positively, because I am convinced that in these days what is to happen must arise from the midst of the Anthroposophical Society itself and that, as far as I am concerned, it can only be a matter of a few suggestions, which I could also put forward later. What has prompted me to intervene in the discussion at this particular moment is this: perhaps I can draw attention to some points that would help to make the discussion fruitful. From various comments made in the discussion, it has become clear that our friends are not sufficiently informed about the reason why we have actually come together this time. This could be heard in the discussions, but also in the way that it necessarily had to be spoken. Therefore, I would like to save the positive things I have to say until later, by basing the two lectures I will give on this topic. Tomorrow I will speak about the conditions for community building in an anthroposophical society, and will thus deal in particular with the suggestions that Dr. Rittelmeyer and others have made. The second lecture will also be based on a topic that will arise from further discussion. But I would like to point out that our current meeting can only be fruitful if, on the basis of the realization of imperfections – which are admitted, of course – we move on to a positive development. Therefore, I would also like to suggest, in particular for the discussion of the papers in the next few hours and evenings, to mention some negative aspects, but ones that are intended to lead to something positive.

What has made the work in the Anthroposophical Society so difficult since 1918 has, I believe, been aptly brought out in the discussion, and many a word spoken by Dr. Büchenbacher, for example, could find a profound echo. I would like to take up some of the words that have already been spoken, for example the word that I also use frequently: the isolation caused by the Stuttgart system.

In 1918, under the circumstances you are aware of, the “Federation for the Tripartite Division of the Social Organism” was founded. At its founding, it could well be seen as something that had to be formed out of the intentions of the Anthroposophical Society, in line with the conditions of the time. But initially, within the overall framework of the Anthroposophical Society, work for this Threefolding League was carried out with — if I may put it this way — the apparatus, with the bureaucratic apparatus that has been set up here in Stuttgart for the Threefolding League. After all, what else could one do? But then the following happened: I came here one day and found out that a circular had been sent out a few weeks earlier, in which an appeal had been included to found the “Coming Day”. What had happened back then was a tact error, a tremendous tact error, which had to contribute to what was described earlier: One received a shock when one entered the Anthroposophical Society in 1918/19. And I simply had to point out: the two things must not be confused with each other! For what were the young members to think when they were still dealing with our idealistic things and then received the call to found the “Day to Come”? I therefore had to refuse in the strongest possible terms that such things should happen. I asked the leadership of the “Federation for Threefolding” how this had come about, and they explained to me at the time that it had happened because they only wanted to use one envelope for both. But otherwise they are not so careful about it! For in these hard times of foreign currency, I was recently given an envelope with the comment that something like that should be taken badly: an envelope with which someone received a credit note for 21 marks and which was stamped with 150 marks. It goes without saying that such thoughtlessness would not flourish on a healthy social foundation. I also made further inquiries about these matters to the leaders of the federation and learned that they knew nothing about the whole matter. So I was faced with a democracy that literally led to confusion and could not help myself but to lash out, so to speak, and say: I'm not going to take any more of this! This led to a kind of regeneration of the Federation for Threefolding - according to the personalities, but not in spirit - because what was done then was undertaken out of the same spirit.

I mention this because it shows how the things that were done here out of the intentions of the Anthroposophical Society went awry. That is why I expected that after Dr. Kolisko's lecture someone would stand up and say: We would like to hear from those who are involved in the Stuttgart system, so that they can tell us what they have to say about it! Then further discussion would have been possible. — As things have been since 1918, I was forced to work with the Stuttgart organization — because I could not ignore it once it was there. And the Stuttgart organization isolated itself more and more. But what was the result? Since I could not disavow the Stuttgart system, the result was that I was also isolated. Therefore, in the fall of 1922, I had to talk to Mr. Uehli on December 10th and discuss with the members of the central Committee how things could be different, and that if I came back to Stuttgart, the prominent leaders of the movement would talk to me about how things could be different; otherwise I would be forced to address the members of the Society directly, bypassing the organization, to make things different. — We have been asked to speak “fresh from the liver”, so I will start with that.

The isolation was almost systematic. In September 1921, a congress took place, during which a kind of assembly of the Anthroposophical Society also took place. A central board was formed there; it initially published the content of what had been discussed at the time in a 'newsletter'. From then on, the members could, in a sense, ask: Where is the central board? Because the last newsletter came out at New Year 1923, and until then the central board had never let the members receive anything of what I myself had said. So I was deprived of the opportunity to contact the Society myself. So I was isolated in the best sense of the word. I would like to ask the question – I know the answer, but here at the delegates' meeting this question must be asked: What did the Central Board do between the two bulletins of 1921 and 1923?

I am mentioning these things now because they must become the subject of the special debate. The points of the special debate have been announced; but it can only be fruitful if these things are actually answered. Because it will be possible to see from this how things have gone in the past and how they will not be able to go in the future. We must draw conclusions from what has happened in the past for our work in the future.

I would now like to point out something else that can lead us to a broader horizon. The tasks that the Anthroposophical Society has received have become ever greater. It was the duty of the leadership to grow with these tasks. To do this, it was necessary to take a keen interest in the tasks. Therefore, I would like to sketch out very briefly, because this must be incorporated into the specialist debate, that above all, from everything it does in the present, such a society as the Anthroposophical Society incurs the strictest obligations for the future. The opponents are attacking it simply because the Anthroposophical Society exists. It is not possible to do everything at once, but a start must be made. In Stuttgart things were so that we were constantly making programs and then no longer took care of them. One example is the “Bund für freies Geistesleben” (Association for a Free Spiritual Life). Without the will to carry it out — and this will is what matters — nothing can come to fruition in the Anthroposophical Society. We have founded the Waldorf School and educate students using the forces that arise from anthroposophy, with a pedagogy and didactics given by anthroposophy. The benefits of this can be felt even by the youngest pupils at the Waldorf School. But long before the Stuttgart system came into being, I repeatedly had to emphasize something that seemed painful to me. I had to say: When we have trained someone in this or that field, they then have to enter the world, which we are negating. Thus much of what we do is condemned to sterility from the outset. It goes without saying that someone who has been trained in our midst according to our principles comes into what used to be called “the outside world”, where he encounters conditions in which he cannot apply any of what he has achieved in our midst. Hence the great concern arises: How do we shape the future of those who receive their strength from our midst? I have pointed out this idea again and again because the most ideal tasks have found little favor. I now have a letter from those who are so young that they cannot yet be part of society, which you can summarize as a kind of conclusion.

Explanation

A number of students in the final years at the Waldorf School would like to bring the following to the attention of the General Assembly of the Anthroposophical Society:

At Easter 1924, the first class of the Waldorf School will graduate. In our current middle school system, this graduation is linked to the matriculation examination. However, the growing opposition directed against the anthroposophical movement and, to an equally sharp degree, against the Waldorf School, makes the exam extremely difficult for the school leaver. Furthermore, it contradicts the essence of Waldorf school education if such momentary examinations are to decide the nature of the emerging human being.

However, only this Matura examination gives us access to today's higher education system. From everything we hear about today's universities, it is clear that they no longer teach the kind of science that engages the whole person in a living way; it is only abstract, unfounded knowledge that is increasingly being put at the service of economic interests. The present situation proves that these institutions are no longer able to produce the spiritual leaders that the German people and all of humanity need in the present day.

That is why, especially today, there is a need for such universities, which fully help to develop the abilities slumbering in people and do not serve the subject of study and mere vocational training in an external way. The aims of Waldorf education must also apply to the colleges if the seeds sown in the Waldorf school are to continue to develop freely.

Waldorf students see only one way out of this situation: a free college system must be aimed for. In a free university, the anthroposophical spirit must continue what was begun with Waldorf school education. We Waldorf students hope that the anthroposophical movement will continue what has emerged from it in the Waldorf school and will meet the need for a free university. We hope that this idea will find the loving understanding and powerful support that is needed so that the forces that can be brought to bear through the Waldorf school can later also have a powerful effect and be brought to bear where they are needed.

This is where the concern of those who see what we see in the youngest, in the boys and girls who are close to our movement, speaks. This raises the question: What is the possible leadership of an Anthroposophical Society's view of the most important questions for the future? What are their thoughts on this? Of course, things cannot be done overnight. But how are things being thought about now that there has been no real thought since the program of the School of Spiritual Science was set out? So the question is to be discussed further: How does one think in the Anthroposophical Society, so to work in the future that the future is really thought about?

This failure to think about the future is very strongly expressed. We have had a series of congresses that went very well in themselves. At these congresses, outstanding work has been done by the intelligentsia within the Anthroposophical Society. But if you looked beyond the immediate horizon to consider the impact of such a congress, you would realize that, yes, what was presented was very beautiful, but the Anthroposophists are so out of touch with reality that it would never occur to us to approach them. This is something that actually had to be experienced in connection with every congress. I would like to express this in the sentence: Much has been contributed, especially by the leading personalities, through the fanaticism and narrow-mindedness that prevailed there, to repelling people whose cooperation we would very much need!

This simply followed from certain things that were unavoidable. It was not an inclination to deal with the world. And one must deal with the world if one wants its cooperation, not its opposition. This then became very clear in the real consequences. I only ask you to bear in mind that it is becoming increasingly difficult to find Waldorf school teachers. Why? Because encapsulation has become systematic. And now that the number of those who found their way into the Anthroposophical Society in its better times and these personalities have come into the relevant posts, it is no longer possible for new people to find their way in. Particularly when one comes across such systems as existed in the “Bund für Dreigliederung”, then it is obvious that personalities who could become good co-workers if they got to know anthroposophy in a human way, initially feel simply repelled, not by anthroposophy but by the treatment they receive.

These relationships must be addressed in the specialist debate, because this is where the tasks for the future lie. In many cases, the tasks lie in changing the whole tone that prevails in society. The tasks lie in the fact that it is not a matter of saying: the people of Stuttgart have no time. — Friends will not demand that hours be spent with each one; but what happens in the minutes is what matters and what has so often led to the echo from outside: Yes, when you do come to Stuttgart, it takes your breath away! And when you leave again, it takes your breath away! I am putting this in somewhat radical terms, but we were asked to speak freely about what needs to be said.

These are the things that need to be discussed by the outgoing or incoming board of directors, things that must not be kept secret. For if you ask: How did the branches fall asleep? – you will receive the answer that the board did not even send out any messages during the two years. I do not want to criticize, it is only meant terminologically. But by also discussing these things in their light on the part of the Stuttgart members, what must arise can arise and what the Society can carry forward. All that is needed for this is the will to do so. The will of the members must be able to come together with the will of the leadership in the right way. If this is not the case, then it must at least be made clear why this is not the case; then it will become clear how to remedy the situation.

So it is not a matter of our talking about very general things, but of finding fruitful ideas for the continuation of the Anthroposophical Society from the knowledge of the deficiencies. I would ask that the treatment of the individual questions be put under this point of view; then the discussion will be fruitful, even if only five minutes are spoken by each one.

In my two lectures, I would like to speak about the affairs of anthroposophical life as they arise for me from the circumstances.

Afternoon Session:

Mr. Leinhas announces that the plan is to discuss the relevant points in the afternoon and suggests that further suggestions be made in line with Dr. Steiner's suggestions.

Dr. Carl Unger, Stuttgart, wants to say a few words about the antecedents in connection with what Dr. Steiner said. Looking back, it is clear that many people in Stuttgart, especially those who were originally involved in anthroposophical work in Stuttgart, suffered terribly under what was called the Stuttgart system. As the reasons for this have been explained here, many people from outside the city were brought in to become co-workers in order to advance the enterprises. But as a result, one became dependent on what one had called up. Those called here were now also recruited to work in anthroposophical life so that they could help to bear the responsibility. But it was a time when one could not find any interest in the affairs of the Anthroposophical Society. It may have been because one was not able to keep this interest alive in general. The speaker then pointed out that he felt compelled to step back because he saw no way to continue to cultivate the anthroposophical in the way it had been at the center of things in Stuttgart for fifteen years. As the Society's tasks grew, so did its justifications. Errors were certainly made in the integration of the enterprises into the Society, and in particular there was a lack of accountability of the anthroposophical leadership to these foundations. The speaker pointed out how he felt condemned to inactivity, especially in the most important matters, because he no longer found an ear for what might have been said out of the old connection with the Society.

Mr. Ernst Uehli, Stuttgart, described how he was called to Stuttgart in 1919 as editor of the newspaper, and how he was then entrusted with the leadership of the “Bund für Dreigliederung” (Federation for Threefolding) because its leadership had become bureaucratic. He admits that he did not succeed in leading the association out of the quagmire it had got into. When he then took on the additional responsibilities of editing the “Drei” and working on the central committee, the burden became too heavy for him. He took on tasks that were beyond him. Now he wants to try to pull himself out of his isolation. He has therefore resigned from the Central Board in order to stop doing what he cannot do and start doing what he can do. He is aware of his failings in dealing with people, but will now seek to place his work as a free human being within the development of society.

Rector Moritz Bartsch of Breslau then spoke out what the branches had failed to do. The autonomy of the branches, of which Dr. Steiner spoke, had been given too little attention. In the east, people were less affected by the Stuttgart bureaucracy. The independence of the personalities and the branches is based on the spirit of the “Philosophy of Freedom”. In the inner development there is always the danger of subjectivism. Sometimes it is like in the village church, when the one who is meant is pleased that someone else has received something.

Mr. Andreas Körner, Nuremberg: There is too much talk about the reorganization of the Anthroposophical Society and too little about the principles. It seems that little has been incorporated. There is a lack of interest in the individual in the other person. We know the board from lectures and books, but the board must also know the members. Dr. Steiner once said that he thinks of every Waldorf school child every day; something similar should happen with us.

Dr. Eugen Kolisko, Stuttgart: It is not important that the Central Board apologizes, but that the concrete circumstances that led to the Stuttgart system are described, as Dr. Steiner indicated. The lack of clarification is particularly evident in the matter of religious renewal.

Mr. Uehli had been involved in all the theologian courses and in the founding of the Movement for Religious Renewal. But he was completely unaware that he had to educate the Society about the Movement for Religious Renewal. Immediately upon Mr. Uehli's return from Dornach, the Executive Council would have had to deliberate, and the news would have had to go out immediately instead of in January, and the membership would have had to be informed everywhere. It was just a very general phenomenon that there was no awareness that one had to do something for the Anthroposophical Society. It was similar at the time of the threefold social order movement. There was a time when it was as if the watchword was that it was now threefolding that counted and no longer anthroposophy. We must try to understand the psychological reasons for Mr. Uehlis's breakdown under the burden of work and Dr. Unger's inactivity. Another thing symptomatic of the “Stuttgart system” is the extent to which all sides have sinned through letters sent from Stuttgart, etc. We must be specific about such things that have happened. We will only make progress if we confront the negative and do the positive.

The chairman, Mr. Emil Leinhas, announces that the reports prepared by the conveners of the meeting are now to be presented.

This is met with general disagreement. A point of order ensues in which speakers explain that they do not want to hear the presentations now, because that would take up time and many of the friends would have to leave again without perhaps getting a chance to speak; the general discussion must continue.

Mr. Ernst Lehrs, Jena, explains that the human and anthroposophical aspects should be mentioned before the individual topics. Dr. Rittelmeyer is the most suitable person for this.

Mr. Wilhelm Rath, Berlin, and Mr. Walter Mayen, Breslau, agree.

Dr. Friedrich Rittelmeyer, Stuttgart, says that it is necessary to provide an overall picture, but he does not want to do it himself.

Dr. Carl Unger, Stutigart, points out the necessity of the presentations about the individual institutions, because the difficulties have arisen precisely from their justification.

Dr. Walter Johannes Stein, Stuttgart, asks the assembly to listen to the presentations. If they are not listened to, all the effort of preparation will be in vain, including the effort that Dr. Steiner has put into those who, after much painful self-knowledge, have undertaken to examine the methods here. The lectures will show in detail where the mistakes were made, and only on the basis of this insight can things improve. He is convinced that no one in the room, with the exception of Dr. Steiner, who is not likely to take the floor on this, is able to give an overall lecture.

Dr. Rudolf Steiner points out that we have to consider the practicalities, otherwise we will not get anywhere. Debates on the rules of procedure will not get us anywhere. Therefore, he is now also making a motion on the rules of procedure, namely:

Mr. Leinhas may ask the Nine Committee who wants to give the general presentation. If someone comes forward, that is good. If not, that is also a manifestation. In any case, only individual lectures emerged during the preparation, and Dr. Stein honestly stated the situation.

Since no one volunteers, Dr. Unger finally offers to give the overall lecture. The chairman notes that the assembly does not want this lecture by Dr. Unger.

The meeting is now willing to hear the individual presentations.

The planned presentation on threefolding will therefore follow.

Dr. Carl Unger, Stuttgart: The movement for the threefolding of the social organism is at the root of the difficulties that have arisen. This movement was directed entirely towards the outside world. Its failure has done the Anthroposophical Society the greatest harm and disrupted its work. The aim of these lectures is to determine the relationship of the Anthroposophical Society as a society to the institutions that have taken root in its midst since 1919. It can be pointed out that Anthroposophy has always carried the spiritual impulses to become effective in practical life. This has found expression in the draft of the principles, which Dr. Steiner wrote. Reference may also be made to Dr. Steiner's essays in “Lucifer Gnosis”, which appeared in 1905 on the social question. Mr. Molt, whose name is associated with the threefolding movement, was advised by the speaker around 1908 to study these essays, which had been largely ignored. In his Vienna cycle in 1914, Dr. Steiner pointed to the social question as a cancer in contemporary life, and the autumn lectures of 1918 in Dornach provided such a strong impulse that after the collapse of the German situation in Stuttgart, an attempt was made to intervene in the chaos from an anthroposophical point of view. This later led to a delegation from Stuttgart seeking advice and support from Dr. Steiner. This is not intended as a historical account, but it should be noted that this movement was undertaken out of anthroposophical enthusiasm. The rapid uptake of the Stuttgart initiative by anthroposophical friends points to the accumulated anthroposophical energy that was released. The initial success was due to the tireless efforts of Dr. Steiner. When the Kernpunkte appeared, the anthroposophical background could also be clearly recognized in this work. And here it was often tried to bring this to bear. The movement suddenly collapsed, but left behind a tremendous opposition that now pounced on anthroposophy and Dr. Steiner. Now the anthroposophical aspect should have been clearly distinguished, for which the appeal of the Cultural Council could have been a prelude. But the work of the Anthroposophical Society had been largely destroyed. The branches were taken over by the threefold social order. The agitation in public had led to a certain superficiality, which now clung to the anthroposophical lecture system.

The threefolding movement left many things behind. First of all, in a good sense, the Waldorf school, which was founded by Mr. Molt out of a social impulse, and then the “Kommenden Tag” (The Day to Come), which does excellent work within the limits it has set itself. But the various scientific institutes, the clinical-therapeutic institute, the journals and the “Federation for Free Spiritual Life”, whose relationship to the Anthroposophical Society is to be reported on by special reports, are also connected with this. For the Society itself, it is now a matter of working out the social impulse within itself. There it can contribute to the development of the whole human being. The social demand contains something that is connected with the transformation of the whole human being. The representation of the social must not be neglected externally either. The lectures that Dr. Steiner gave at the Vienna Congress are an example of how this can be done. The question of the social must not be absent from the consolidation of society if it is to take place in the right sense.

The chairman, Mr. Leinhas, now opens the discussion:

Mr. Emil Molt, Stuttgart, points out that in many respects it is important for him to start over. Much harm has been done by forgetting one's duties to society as a result of being absorbed in everyday life and in one's profession. He talks about the reasons for the paralysis of his will, but in order to fulfill his responsibility, he declares himself willing to participate in the reconstruction and asks to be helped in doing so.

Mr. Karl Herdener, Schnaitheim, talks about what weighs on a proletarian. He says that he has tried from the beginning to work together with the middle classes and tells how he came to the movement. Here he had heard that there was a working group of proletarians, which he could not understand. In Heidenheim, people worked together freely. There is always talk of community building and humanity, in almost slogan-like form. The entrepreneurial point of view was reported on threefolding. The proletarian needs the other side. The anthroposophist knows this best of all. He then talks about the school and the task of helping the children when they leave school. When he talks about love being the idea of the class struggle in the trade unions, he is always met with the argument that the shareholders of L'Avenir are capitalists. He mentions the newspaper article about the prison rules at the Waldorf-Astoria. Something must be done from the point of view of anthroposophy that takes the proletarian's point of view into account, otherwise he will no longer be able to stand up for anthroposophy in the same way when he returns. There have been too many doctors and no proletarians. He hopes to leave here having done positive work.

Mr. Adolf Arenson, Stuttgart, on the matter at hand: There are many proletarians in the Stuttgart branch, and if Mr. Benzinger has founded a special branch, he should be free to do so. Besides, a special evening has now been set up for all members.

Dr. Eugen Kolisko, Stuttgart: In the work of the “Bund für Dreigliederung” (Threefolding League), one did not know how to speak to the proletariat in such a way that it felt that a fully human being was behind it. One did not speak from the basis of anthroposophy. The industrialists were annoyed. Later, agitators were sent out without sufficient loving work and preparation of the speakers, so that anthroposophy was discredited by some speakers. This was the reason why mistakes were made in the representation of the threefold order in Upper Silesia, despite all the enthusiasm, which then led to the unleashing of national antagonism. The association's working material was handled in such a way that even an uncorrected lecture by Dr. Steiner found its way into the editorial office of Hammer (!) magazine. Dr. Steiner's lecture to the workers of the Daimler factory was sent out indiscriminately, without regard for the fact that it was given in a special situation. With an anthroposophical attitude, such treatment of Dr. Steiner's lectures would have been impossible. The call for a cultural council has been dropped, although the important question of a free university was linked to it. Since the “Bund für Dreigliederung” no longer exists, nothing positive can be said in this debate, but it can be shown from these cases how all this would not have been possible with a proper anthroposophical attitude and how anthroposophy must now be represented to the outside world.

Rector Moritz Bartsch of Breslau does not believe that mistakes were made in Upper Silesia.

Dr. Eugen Kolisko of Stuttgart offers further explanations.

Dr. Herbert Hahn of Stuttgart: One must speak the language of the proletariat when speaking to proletarians. When Dr. Steiner gave a lecture in the Waldorf-Astoria factory, the anthroposophical aspect was as alive as the proletarian needs it to be. The other speakers did not have that, and when the backlash occurred, the way they spoke had a negative effect on the anthroposophical cause.

Dr. Hans Büchenbacher, Stuttgart: Dr. Unger spoke of how the threefold social order movement arose out of the basic impulses of spiritual science. It is not necessary to say any more about this, but one should speak about whether the threefold social order movement was carried out in an anthroposophical way. If one is truly an anthroposophist, one comes to a deeper understanding of human nature and of the currents of the times. This was not present in the work of threefolding. During the fight for the plebiscite in Upper Silesia, many anthroposophical speakers in Germany also presented the threefold social order as the peaceful and only healthy solution to the question. As a result, accusations of treason arose in the press due to this position. Our speakers were able to deal with these defamatory accusations in meetings everywhere. They could always point out that if it came to a vote, the threefolders would naturally vote for Germany and that Dr. Steiner had also made this clear. A rather proud declaration was issued from Stuttgart, but it did not touch on this point at all. They had to make up for it later, but they had to be told that this position had only been adopted later because of the attacks, and so the odium of treason remained with us after all. This is a concrete example of how the threefold social order was represented to the outside world in such a way that the understanding of the human being that anthroposophy can provide was very much lacking.

Mr. Fred Geuter, Stuttgart: The so-called “Stuttgart System” has its origin in the fact that it was not understood to avoid precisely that which we criticized in all our speeches and lectures - the thinking methods and will impulses of the “West”. Among other things, the Federation was given the task of working for “honest diplomacy”. Anyone who is able to follow the development of this institution has to realize the opposite. What needs to be done first is to realize in our hearts the impulses we receive, so that we also act as we speak. Otherwise, soul tensions and conflicts arise that cause dissatisfaction, crises and only unnecessary opposition.

Mr. Johannes Thielemann, Meissen, speaks of ahrimanic effects in the etheric body of society that must be overcome.

Mr. Max Benzinger, Stuttgart, rejects Mr. Herdener's accusation. He founded a branch because he wanted to see whether you had to be a doctor or something similar to lead a branch, or whether a proletarian could do it too. Besides, he wanted to continue what had been started in the threefolding period with the proletarians. The speaker criticizes the often wrong behavior of anthroposophists towards the proletarians. For example, against servants. There is an abyss between action and words. He describes some experiences from the threefolding movement, of which he was a member of the committee. The proletarians understood Dr. Steiner, but not those who otherwise spoke about it, whose actions did not match their words. He reported from Champignystraße that an employee was told, in the matter of weekly salary payments, that he was indeed descending to the level of the workers. The worker is sensitive because he feels whether the person also does what he says. He himself was decried as a rabble-rouser.

Mr. Wilhelm Conrad, Cologne, proposes that all the lectures be heard in succession.

Dr. Rudolf Steiner: I think we really should take care to achieve a fruitful outcome. It may indeed be the case, although this has not been emphasized enough, that the fate of the Society depends on these three days. If we do not come to a conclusion during these three days, there is nothing left for me to do but appeal to each individual member of the Society to carry this out. So, if a reorganization of the Society is to take place, it must happen in these three days. We are in an Anthroposophical Society, where everything is connected. You will be best able to form an opinion and also to talk about the threefold order when you have heard everything. Everything is interrelated. Therefore, it is most practical if you let the presentations run and get the full picture, then a fruitful discussion can arise, while each speaker is tempted to talk about every detail, which leads to infertility. Mr. Conrad's proposal is that we go through the reports as quickly as possible so that we know what has happened in Stuttgart as a whole. Then everything can be fruitfully discussed.

The Conrad proposal is approved.

Mr. Emil Leinhas, Stuttgart, takes up the series of lectures with a report on the “Kommenden Tag”. He describes the emergence of the joint-stock company as an attempt to form a germinal point of associative economic life by uniting banking, industry and agriculture with economic and intellectual endeavors. The realization of the idea on a large scale failed due to the lack of understanding it was met with from influential circles in economic life. In the spring of 1922, in order to avoid lapsing into dishonesty, a “program limitation” had to be proclaimed. Within the framework of the program possible under the present circumstances, the “Coming Day” fulfills its tasks and proves to be an economically viable undertaking. Mr. Leinhas does not conceal the teething troubles that the company, which was founded in a rather difficult time, had to go through. He also points out the difficulties that have arisen in human cooperation, but which are increasingly being overcome as the company's economic tasks are successfully worked out and not mixed up with the affairs of the Anthroposophical Society. Mr. Leinhas asks the members of the Anthroposophical Society to be aware of their tasks with regard to the “Coming Day” and its individual enterprises, in particular the publishing house and the Clinical Therapeutic Institute, and to support them energetically by taking a lively interest in them and their products. The attitude of the members of the Anthroposophical Society towards all the enterprises that have emerged from the Anthroposophical Society should increasingly be one of asking: What can I do for these enterprises, how can I take an interest in them? Not: How can I interfere in the affairs of those who are responsible for managing these enterprises. In general, the principle of “What can I do?” should be increasingly applied in our Society. Not “What should others do?”

Evening Session:

Fräulein Dr. Caroline von Heydebrand, Stuttgart: A talk about the Free Waldorf School and its relationship to the Anthroposophical Society

The Free Waldorf School was founded by Mr. Emil Molt out of an insight into the social necessities of our time, for which the ideas of the threefold social organism could open our eyes. All people, regardless of their social background, should be able to enjoy an education that meets the requirements of true human knowledge. Thus, the Waldorf School became the first comprehensive school in Germany (1919). In it, only spiritual and pedagogical aspects should be decisive for teaching and education. Therefore, the Waldorf School was established as an independent school that wanted to feel responsible only to the spiritual life. Its founder, Mr. Molt, could only find the basis for his educational ideas in anthroposophy, because the works of Dr. Rudolf Steiner provide a knowledge of the human being from which appropriate educational impulses can grow. They present a story of the development of the soul of humanity that could lead to an understanding of the necessity of a genuinely contemporary art of education for the present and the near future.

Mr. Molt asked Dr. Rudolf Steiner to take over the pedagogical direction of the Waldorf School. Dr. Rudolf Steiner accepted his request. The teachers of the Waldorf School feel the responsibility that arises from the fact that the founder and leader of the anthroposophical movement is the pedagogical director of the school. They receive the rich abundance of spiritual scientific-educational knowledge in lectures and individual advice with a deep sense of responsibility to the anthroposophical movement, indeed to all of humanity. The heart of Waldorf school education is the series of lectures on education by Dr. Rudolf Steiner, which convey anthroposophical knowledge of the human being. From this anthroposophical understanding of the human being, he developed a methodology and didactics as an art of education. Convincing hearts of men without prejudice, this art of education stands in the world, working as a work of art, as once the Goetheanum and as eurythmy. Thus, from its very foundations, anthroposophy has given birth to a school and education movement that could become a global movement by its very nature. Unfortunately, the idea of a “World School Association” has not yet been realized, apart from a few tentative attempts. It is recognized in many circles beyond Central Europe that the Waldorf School is not the school of a sectarian world view, but that it has a general educational significance. Waldorf education has attracted the attention of many non-anthroposophical circles. Dr. Rudolf Steiner gave lectures on education to Swiss teachers in Basel, and at Christmas 1921/22 he gave a course for teachers at the Goetheanum that appeared to be a processing of Albert Steffen and has already been translated into Swedish. During the Oxford Conference in August 1922 on the subject of “Spiritual Values in Education and Social Life”, Dr. Steiner gave twelve lectures on education and teaching to a large number of English teachers. In the Nordic countries, Waldorf education is being studied particularly actively. Many guests visit the school, including representatives of foreign governments. For example, a professor from Japan recently spent several days at the school, showing great interest. In early January, seventeen English teachers visited the school and were truly enthusiastic about their stay. Thus, the significant fact that the anthroposophical movement has brought a pedagogy into the world as an art that is not dependent on a world view but is universally human should be vividly present in the consciousness of every member of the Anthroposophical Society. Therefore, Waldorf education should not be perceived as something that satisfies the narrow needs or educational aspirations of a few parents, children and teachers, but as something that fulfills its task only when it grasps this task in terms of world history and places itself selflessly, as an artistic and healing element, in the midst of the phenomena of decline in our time. The cultivation of their spiritual life has remained the Germans' most precious possession; within the German spiritual life, educational issues have always come first. The members of the Anthroposophical Society warmly embrace the Waldorf School and its idea as a matter for humanity. It stands as a model school, as a model school, and seeks to realize the idea of free education. As such a model school, it must be the concern of the entire Anthroposophical Society. It needs the active support, loving understanding and warm interest of every single member in every respect. As a wonderful gift from the spiritual worlds, entrusted to human hearts and hands, we members of the Anthroposophical Society feel about this art of education and this school, which, under the loving guidance of Dr. Rudolf Steiner, is the only model school to cultivate anthroposophical educational ideals in a comprehensive way for the benefit of humanity. It needs a strong Anthroposophical Society that can protect, support and strengthen the good that has been entrusted to us all!

Dr. Otto Palmer, Stuttgart: Presentation on the Clinical Therapeutic Institute “The Day to Come”

At the beginning of my presentation to this assembly of delegates on the Clinical Therapeutic Institute, I would like to ask two questions, which I will try to answer myself during my presentation and which, if a discussion follows my presentation, I would ask you to help me answer.

The first question is: What does medicine, inaugurated by spiritual scientific research, promise not only to the Anthroposophical Society but also to all of humanity?

Secondly: What must the Anthroposophical Society do to gain recognition and importance for the treatment and healing methods based on spiritual scientific research in the Clinical-Therapeutic Institute?

We can only answer these questions correctly if we ourselves are completely clear about what we have been given in every respect by Dr. Steiner's spiritual science. This may seem paradoxical, but I believe that many members of the Anthroposophical Society are not clear about the importance of the spiritual heritage handed down to us. If we were clear about it, how could there be such appalling lukewarmness and indifference, which has basically led to the crisis we are currently facing.

Over time, we have become accustomed to to take the spiritual nourishment offered to us in such abundance for granted, and instead of being shaken to the core of our souls and developing the forces within us, which in turn should work with elemental force outwards and make themselves felt with a certain enthusiasm, we lay on the pillow of rest and did not even think of making use of what we had received as it should be.

In 1908, Dr. Steiner gave us a spiritual-scientific understanding of the human being for the first time in the Prague Course, which deals with “Occult Physiology”. In a whole series of lectures that followed this Prague Course, he incorporated additional comments about the nature of the human being in this direction. In other lectures, he described the karmic connections that arise from previous lives and manifest as illnesses in this one.

In 1917, in his “Puzzles of the Soul”, he gave us the physiology of the threefold human being.

In 1920/21, he introduced doctors and medical students to spiritual pathology and therapy in longer courses – and last October, he finally supplemented these courses with lectures he gave at the Medical Week here in Stuttgart. One fruit of the lectures in 1920/21 was the founding of the Clinical Therapeutic Institute, and a wealth of tasks arose for those who were appointed as staff to the Clinical Therapeutic Institute. Above all, however, we doctors were given the task of creating a movement among two to three thousand doctors on the basis of what we had been given in the courses.

To get a true picture of the tremendous achievements that have been inaugurated in the medical field through Dr. Steiner's work since 1908, one need only take a look at state-licensed conventional medicine and its helplessness, especially in the field of therapy. All the great things that have been discovered by it should not only be fully recognized, but it should be emphasized that we do not want to oppose it in terms of scientific research methods. We must be clear about one thing only: that all medical research on pathology is based on the development of pathological anatomy, that is, a knowledge of those changes that have occurred in organs during a person's lifetime as a result of disease processes and that can now be observed as such on the dissection table. To a certain extent, research in this field can be considered complete and it can be assumed that not much new will be revealed with the examination methods currently in use. Nevertheless, the motto of the Freiburg anatomist Aschoff at the naturalists' congress was: “Give us corpses!” As if corpses could give us information about the living! Or rather, about the disease processes that take place in the living organism!

With the exception of a few specific remedies, such as mercury, quinine and salicylic acid, the therapy is to be regarded as an experimental therapy. There is certainly no real rationale for most of the diseases. Why are there so many quacks, why so many lay doctors alongside conventional medicine? Surely only because people do not find what they are looking for in conventional medicine in many cases.

If we compare our time with a distant epoch, say from the fourth to the fifth century BC to the fifteenth century AD, where our scientific research begins, we can see that at that time people still had an idea of the influence of a spiritual world and of therapy based on certain intuitions and atavistic clairvoyance.

It is interesting that this period ends with the murder of Paracelsus, and that barely a century later, Rembrandt's famous painting “The Anatomy Lesson” came to symbolize, as it were, the dawning of the scientific era in which we are still immersed.

Dr. Steiner's achievement lies in having transformed Du Bois-Reymond's “Ignorabimus” (“we will not know”) into a “Cognoscimus” (we know). We can know if we have become able to see through the training of our soul organs, and even if we have not yet become able to see ourselves, it is still possible for us, with goodwill, to reflect on and grasp intellectually the spiritual scientific research results that Dr. Steiner gives us. For us physicians as students of Dr. Steiner, it is no longer a matter of including only the physical body in our research, but of taking into account the higher aspects of the human being in our research.

The threefold nature of the human being – the nervous-sensory system, the rhythmic system and the metabolic-limb system – is to be made the basis of a new physiology. In the case of disease processes, natural processes outside the body must be taken into account and placed in parallel. Cosmic-planetary influences on the one hand, telluric influences on the other, must be taken into account.

The human being, which until then seemed so simple to us, becomes the most complicated organism, which can only be understood and correctly assessed in the contexts just mentioned. Furthermore, we find a series of processes in the mineral, plant and animal kingdoms that also take place in some way in the human being. It would be going too far to go into these processes further in the context of a short presentation, but it should be said that these processes provide clues as to which remedies, originating from any of these kingdoms, must be applied in a meaningful and rational way in certain disease processes. It will be the task of the physicians of the Institute to explain the methods of our work and therapy in a vade mecum and to make this vade mecum the basis of a publicity campaign among physicians. We will only gain enthusiasm for our work if we see our service to humanity and our work in the laboratory as a form of worship in the most beautiful sense of the word.

It should be emphasized that our healing method should become more and more individualized. It is well worth making suffering humanity aware of this healing method and making every effort to establish it in the world.

And this brings me to the second question: “What can the Anthroposophical Society do to ensure that the treatment and healing methods based on spiritual scientific research knowledge and represented in our Clinical Therapeutic Institute receive the recognition and spread in the world that they deserve?”

If the conditions are fulfilled, that the Clinical Therapeutic Institute, for its part, does everything to fulfill the tasks that have been set for it, that is, to make a vade mecum a movement among two to three thousand doctors, then it would be most important for the Anthroposophical Society to support the Clinical Therapeutic Institute in this task, each member in his or her own way. The individual branches should request speakers from the Institute to give informative lectures in the branches. The members should tactfully draw their family doctors' attention to our writings and remedies. I say tactfully, as there is no definition for this; it has to be felt.

I could imagine that doctors could be repelled by tactlessly conducted propaganda. Furthermore, it would have to be ensured that our remedies are available in pharmacies, or that pharmacies are informed where they can obtain our remedies. This must also be done in a tactful manner, because pharmacists are a priori hostile to all such remedies that they are not involved in producing, and which they should only sell as a merchant sells his goods.

Members may recommend the remedies to relatives and acquaintances on the basis of successful healing, but preferably not by bypassing the treating physician. It would also be very effective to recommend our products to the board members of health insurance funds or other influential people within the health insurance system, pointing out that our influenza medicine, Infludoron, for example, can greatly shorten the illness and that the health insurance fund could save a lot of sick pay in this way. If young physicians interested in spiritual scientific research are at a loss to find a topic for their doctoral dissertation, we are happy to suggest a whole range of dissertation topics that arise from Dr. Steiner's medical courses.

The eurythmy therapy we practise, which has yielded good results in numerous cases, still requires further training and should be passed on to those who wish to apply eurythmy therapy in practice under medical supervision.

Above all, however, it is important that each individual member and branch be awakened to the consciousness that our healing method is born out of spiritual-scientific knowledge of the human being, and that we become more and more aware that the “theosophy” is not a gray theory, but that it proves in its effects to be extremely practical and beneficial for humanity in all medical measures. The remedies alone do not help us if the spiritual reality of their origin has not become clear and certain to everyone. Only then can they stand up for them and propagate them in the right way.

Dr. Rudolf Maier, Stuttgart: Lecture on the Scientific Research Institute “Der Kommende Tag”

The aims of the Scientific Research Institute are determined by what is already expressed in the first sentence of the draft of the principles of an Anthroposophical Society: “For a satisfying and healthy way of life, human beings need to know and cultivate their own supersensible being and the supersensible being of the extra-human world.” Applied to the work of our research institute, this simply means that without knowledge of the supersensible, present-day natural science cannot achieve fruitful progress or a true grasp of its goals. Our research institute has therefore set itself the task of ensuring the introduction and application of anthroposophical knowledge in natural science. We seek to fulfill our task by first taking measures that are likely to arouse interest in genuine and true research into nature in the widest circles, and secondly by showing, through practical examples of the application of anthroposophical knowledge in experimental research and observation of nature, how far research into nature can go beyond what has been achieved so far. Examples of this are the treatise by Mrs. Lily Kolisko on “Spleen Function and Platelet Question” and the recently published treatise by Dr. Rudolf Maier on “The Villard Experiment, an Experimental Investigation”. Mrs. Kolisko's essay shows how an anthroposophical insight sheds light on previous research into long-known facts of observation, explaining so much of what has remained mysterious about the known facts of observation, and how this insight leads to new discoveries in the biological field (blood picture, new platelet type: regulators). Dr. Maier's paper shows how the methodology of physical research as set out in anthroposophy makes it possible to uncover major errors in previous research, and how it is thus possible to learn to experiment without bias in order to grasp the facts as they really are. Dr. Maier's essay is an example of how anthroposophy makes life practical by showing that what it contains about physical research can be applied in practice and has been shown to be correct.

We are aware that our endeavors are met with many prejudices on the part of most scientists today, especially the influential ones. However, we believe that the power of the observed facts we have researched must and will ultimately break all resistance. The anthroposophical members can help us a great deal in fulfilling our task. Even if we are met with more general interest, we feel that this is beneficial to our work, but in particular, the anthroposophical members can help us a great deal by drawing attention to our publications among their acquaintances and by ensuring that these publications also become known to wider circles. We trust that scientists who are less involved with the local scientific establishments will more readily recognize our most essential aim than others, and that they too will be furthered by our publications for anthroposophy itself, namely by the systematic work that undermines the prejudice that anthroposophy is not scientific. The Scientific Research Institute has been given tasks by Dr. Steiner, including personal advice on how to carry them out. The solution of these tasks is the focus of our efforts. In the future, we will devote even more of our energy to them than we have in the past.

Dr. Eugen Kolisko, Stuttgart: Lecture on Anthroposophy and Science

The scientific movement has to work on overcoming two barriers, one inward and the other outward. So far, this scientific movement has not been able to assert itself in the right way in either direction. Just as the educational movement and eurythmy have succeeded in expressing the universal human element in such a way that large circles are won over to it with a certain matter-of-factness, so too the scientific movement, if it is to succeed, must be conceived for the wide circle of people who today long for a renewal of science.

But now it must be said that it has not been possible to make oneself understood among today's scientists. We have not found the language to use with them that would have given our endeavors a natural recognition. This will only be possible if, on the one hand, a practical phenomenology emerges, that is, experimental investigations that speak for themselves, and, on the other hand, comprehensive overviews of the execution of our fruitful ideas are presented to the world, which must gain recognition by themselves. Above all, the most modern form of science must be dealt with much more, and we must adhere to the basic attitude of spiritual science: that the validity of today's natural science in the fields accessible to it is unreservedly recognized and at the same time it is shown how spiritual science provides the continuation of natural scientific ideas everywhere. Then no unfruitful polemics will arise, but we shall succeed in creating, also in the field of science, an intermediate layer of people who, without belonging to the Anthroposophical Society, recognize the results of our research as something important and significant.

Internally, however, it is necessary to develop the science to such an extent that it is completely imbued with the anthroposophical spirit. It must not get stuck in the subject-specific. Much harm has been done by carrying into the branches what has not been fully reworked, what is specialized in nature. In many cases, anthroposophy has been reduced to physics, chemistry, etc., instead of founding anthroposophical physics and chemistry, etc. In the past, good anthroposophical work had been done in the branches and groups. At that time, the scientific aspect was still not sufficiently included. Today it should be possible for the individual friends who work in the various scientific fields with the help of anthroposophy to completely transform the results into anthroposophy and thus return them to the work in the Anthroposophical Society. We have seen from the way in which Dr. Steiner has dealt with the most difficult problems of the individual sciences in anthroposophical lectures over the years, and how he still deals with them today, for example, in his Dornach lectures, that in this form, scientific work is no longer perceived and effective as a specialized scientific work, but as something that is generally meaningful for humanity. If this reworking of science does not happen, then, on the contrary, anthroposophical work will be destroyed. Only when our scientists work towards overcoming the subject-specific in their inner work and towards speaking about science in a truly anthroposophical way, can the gulf be overcome that Dr. Steiner spoke of at the time of the Congress of Vienna and at The Hague, the gulf that exists between the scientific movement and Anthroposophy in the narrower sense. Then the scientists can give back to the mother of anthroposophy what they owe to her.

For its part, the Anthroposophical Society has a wide range of tasks in relation to the scientific movement. The achievements in the field of science must come to be known and appreciated by the entire membership. There should be real enthusiasm, for example, for something like our friend Dr. v. Baravalle's book on “The Pedagogy of Mathematics and Physics”. They should know it, know what it means for pedagogy and science, etc. The new leadership will make it their task to ensure that the membership is truly aware of all the achievements within our movement. Because if there is no awareness in our society of what is being worked on in our research institutes, what our scientists are working on in general, what has been achieved, how is it supposed to be known outside? Correct knowledge will also prevent these scientific endeavors from being presented and represented to the outside world in an incomprehensible way.

The task at hand is for our scientific staff to direct their research with the greatest energy towards the enormous range of problems and suggestions that Dr. Steiner has provided over the past few years. Each of these problems, when properly investigated, leads to significant results that are of general human interest in terms of knowledge and practical effectiveness. There are countless tasks here that must now finally be tackled vigorously.

It has often been said that an artistic element must enter into science. Take, for example, the doctrine of the threefold nature of the human organism. One cannot approach it without an artistic-scientific view of the human being. When one experiences, for example, the constant struggle that takes place in the human being between the sense-nervous system, which is senile, dying, mineralized, and carries the germs of death, and the metabolic system, which is youthful, surviving, and resists this, and how the rhythmic system brings about a harmonious balance, then this can only be done by grasping the concepts artistically and imaginatively. As a physician or teacher, one then experiences the human being as nature's most powerful work of art. We must come to the point where we, as scientists, as physicists, as chemists, as physicians, can ultimately speak in concrete terms of the spiritual beings that are behind the external phenomena. Then, when we immerse ourselves in such a scientific-artistic element, we also find the bridge to truly religious feeling everywhere. If we succeed in leading science to the center of anthroposophy, if we talk about it in our anthroposophical branches and carry such a kind of science to the outside world, that we speak from an attitude as it has been characterized here, so that we do not repel what today longs for a renewal of science through anthroposophy, then the scientific movement will not be a foreign body within society, either internally or externally, but will fit harmoniously into the framework of our movement.

Dr. Herbert Hahn, Stuttgart: Lecture on The Relationship of the Anthroposophical Society to the Movement for Religious Renewal.

In September 1922, a movement came into being that wanted to receive the counsel of spiritual science and took responsibility for the effects of this counsel from the very beginning. This movement is dedicated to the work of religious renewal. It experiences as its essential task to carry the Christ impulse, which is progressing in time, in pure forms to many souls. But if it wants to fulfill this task properly, if it wants to serve the moral recovery of religious forces, then it can claim an anthroposophical understanding in the deepest sense.

What it encountered at the beginning of its development, however, was an insufficiently deep and warm understanding. It was often met with a false understanding or a lack of will to understand on the part of individuals who were striving for anthroposophy but did not fully live up to anthroposophical responsibility. In particular, the working groups of the Anthroposophical Society failed to recognize the significance of the religious revival movement in a way that would have allowed them to establish a clear and confident relationship with that movement in an independent manner.

In a Dornach lecture, Dr. Steiner had to use words that already referred to an existing emergency, which carried the necessary clarification. But since the method of philological nitpicking was applied in many cases to the words spoken by Dr. Steiner, which were neglected by the leading figures of the Anthroposophical Society, instead of penetrating to their own root-fresh realization, a state of emergency remained in many circles.

However, an interesting examination of the nature of the religious renewal movement can show that anthroposophists can have a warm understanding for the task of this movement because anthroposophy in Rudolf Steiner's life's work made a religious renewal that was called for by the times possible in all essential points. The religious renewal was able to draw on the content of anthroposophy. Anthroposophy was able to play a creative role in the forms that the religious renewal movement wanted to adopt from its own research. Only through anthroposophical spiritual work could the religious renewal movement be brought forth in its present form.

This can be seen in detail. While the dispute over the meaning of the word continued to grow in Protestant theology, and while the view of the letter as handed down became increasingly rigid in Catholic theology, anthroposophy led to a new understanding of the gospel. What would a religious renewal movement be without these references to the gospel? It would be condemned to complete sterility. But when a number of younger, mainly Protestant theologians approached Dr. Steiner seeking advice on religious renewal, one of the most beautiful proofs of the fruitfulness of anthroposophy in the religious sphere was the fact that the founder of spiritual science had already accumulated treasures of new gospel knowledge in comprehensive lecture cycles. Cycles about the individual gospels and the relationship of the gospels to each other. While theology became barren in relation to the gospel experience, anthroposophy brought forth a new spring of gospel life. This could inspire confidence in drawing from anthroposophy, confidence in invoking anthroposophy as a creator.

But how could trust in religious new creation be cultivated if not all perception of religious life pushed towards a true grasp of the Christ-being, finding its center in a true grasp of the Christ-being? At a time when the conception of the personality of Jesus of Nazareth had become a controversial historical problem, Rudolf Steiner proved Christianity as a mystical fact. He uncovered the powers of love for creative, moral deeds in the depths of the soul and, in the transformation of soul forces, in the reciprocal purification of thinking and willing, grasped the transforming Christ impulse in the realm of his own freedom. The Philosophy of Freedom, experienced as a living, breathing book, was and is a preparation for a new Christ-revelation. For only in the realm of freedom can the Christ impulse reveal itself today. Anything that denies freedom or cannot establish it, and yet calls itself Christian, is today abusing the name of Christianity. Dr. Steiner led to the harrowing experience of a convincing revelation of Christianity in the consciousness and in the history of the new awakenings of moral life that the I has fought for. And in his anthroposophical life's work, he showed how human history in the large is enlightened in the preparation and in the archetypal expression of the ego-strengthening sacrificial forces that were offered in the mystery of Golgotha. Here, in a twofold way, the possibility was established for a re-creation of religious cult. It could be raised to the level of the son-experience that is being sought everywhere at the present time, and it could be brought to the consciousness of the individual in forms so imbued with freedom that they alone can be grasped by this consciousness today. Where else in our time could anything have unfolded a productivity in the realm of true cultic forms? Does not all striving in this area result in a pale, impoverished reformism, which, through its weakness, only strengthens the suggestive power of outdated forms? From the supra-historical, omnipresent Christ-experience of Anthroposophy, a movement for religious renewal was able to draw strength and form. Thus it was also allowed to invoke Anthroposophy as a creator.

But all experiences of cultic forms today fail because of a fundamental discrepancy. The modern human being experiences a becoming in the transformation of inner, moral forces. He experiences a destroying and passing away in the transformation of physical earth and world forces. One does not meaningfully fit into the other; the darkness of material death today draws all moral-religious life into its abyss. Cult and pastoral care are no longer possible in the face of this gaping chasm in the consciousness of the most honest people. Anthroposophy, which was called upon to convincingly speak of the sanctifying entry of Christ into the substance of the earth, imbued all earthly processes with morality. It truly raised the chemical experimental table to the altar. In this way, however, it was able to create the foundations anew so that the world-significant, soul-renewing change experienced on the altar of cultic connections would be grasped by real devotional forces in the heart. Thus she could and may be invoked as a creator, in order to prove herself as a bridge-builder across the rift in the consciousness of the times and of the individual.

We experience anthroposophy as the creative mother of the religious renewal movement in four essential ways. Those who recognize this understand that anthroposophy itself contains a primary source of religious life. It does not need to look for it outside of its own being. But because it experiences the coming together of the rings of freedom and the sacrifices of freedom in the effect of grace in all religious experience, it also honors and loves the forces of freedom and grace imparted by its daughter movement. It assigns the Anthroposophical Society the inner duty of watchfully supporting those who want to bring religious renewal into the world. She gives it the strength to lovingly receive those who, through religious renewal, have matured to enter into Anthroposophy.

The religious renewal movement is walking the path of its own spiritual responsibility. It works out of anthroposophical strength. But it does not work for anthroposophy when it conveys the fruits of anthroposophy to a world hungry for a new Christ-healing.

The Anthroposophical Society can become one of the instruments of the anthroposophical movement, which in turn is walking a path of the highest and most comprehensive responsibility of its own. It may only bear its name if it embodies the whole human being. Religious humanism is an important revelation of the nature of the whole human being. Anthroposophy, which created the religious renewal movement, seeks to awaken the primal gifts of religious power in anthroposophical life through constant new creation for the sake of the truth of its name. Herein lie the roots of a natural and good relationship between the Anthroposophical Society and the religious renewal movement.

Dr. Walter Johannes Stein, Stuttgart: Presentation on the “Association for Anthroposophical School of Spiritual Science Work”

The School of Spiritual Science Association, which I will report on first, is also one of the institutions that was founded after that year 1918, which was so significant for our movement. What is the significance of this year? This was the question that kept coming to my mind, even when it was my responsibility to reflect on the Hochschulbund in preparation for this conference. In this year, the significance of which for our movement Dr. Steiner has repeatedly pointed out recently, the independent will of the members of our movement for the affairs of external social work was first awakened. But this expression of will was still half instinctive. It was not yet possible to realize one's own intuitions in the sense of the “Philosophy of Freedom.” Therefore, Dr. Steiner was repeatedly asked for advice. In the course of time, Dr. Steiner showed ever more clearly and distinctly how his goal could only be to have free people around him. He gave advice to those who were still unfree, so that they could increasingly come to realize ideas that had been grasped by themselves. Thus, since 1918, the task that the Society gradually faced has been the same as that which it faces today: to guide and lead itself. But this is the task of human beings in the age of the consciousness soul. Thus, since 1918, the task of the Society and the task of the times have grown together. And the crisis that our Society is going through today is a reflection of the great crisis of the times, which has been brought about by the conflict between two ages. The old age of the Greco-Latin cultural epoch has not yet faded away. Long ago, the Starry Scripture in the heavens proclaimed the new spirit of the age. But it has not yet been able to fight its way into the world. The spirit of intellectuality of a bygone epoch still prevails, and the spirit of the new spiritual age is still fighting for its entry. And that must be so. For the age of the consciousness soul cannot be completely victorious through the writing in the heavens, through the will of the gods, but only when the will of man makes itself a fellow-fighter of the will of the gods, because men, in their freedom, grasp what only they can realize as their very own decision.

Look at France. There an offshoot of the Latin-Roman current of peoples and times is fighting. It is a dying nation, physically dying out and tearing itself apart by mixing its blood with that of the lower-standing black races. It is a nation that, as if abandoned by the guidance of spiritual beings that otherwise guide nations, carries out actions that are carried out in absentmindedness. But this acting in the absence of the spirit is only expressed more strongly because it makes use of more powerful means. But it is a symptom of the times. The same thing is happening in all fields. A spirit of the age whose epoch has expired still clutches people and, while it itself becomes aware of it, leads people into spiritless actions. It is time for people to awaken their own spirit, because the spirit of the spiritual age will only be able to guide the awakened.

This great world-historical event also played a role in our movement. Let me show you this with a personal example. I joined the movement in 1913. I was one of those who pushed towards anthroposophy because they could not bear the university. There I ran out of breath. There was no spiritual air for living. Everything was dead. And the great minds seemed to belong to the past and were rotting in libraries. But I was looking for life for my science, which I loved. What did I care about the Anthroposophical Society? Not it, but my science was close to my heart. I felt that science and philosophy had reached a point beyond which they could not advance by themselves. Then I found anthroposophy. I was determined to get to know it thoroughly. That's why I came to Munich. An older member received me. I said: “I have come to build a bridge between anthroposophy and science.” “That has already happened,” said the member, ‘you are too late.’ So I had come for the sake of science. But now I wanted to see the mystery plays. ‘Only members are allowed to see them,’ I was told. I was not a member and did not want to become one. I turned to Dr. Steiner. Yes, that was correct – the Mystery Dramas were only open to members. But he suggested that I could become a member for the day of the performance and resign the next day. I agreed. So I was at the performance. Afterwards Dr. Steiner came up to me and asked: “Well, Mr. Stein, how did you enjoy yourself?” I said: “I am no longer an idiot like yesterday — and I am no longer resigning from the society either.” So I became a member of the society. It is symptomatic. The one who had come to build a bridge between science and anthroposophy had been won over by the Mystery Dramas. As I said, this was symptomatic. For it was the same with the others who came after me. Dr. Roman Boos and we, who belonged to that generation that could not stand it at the universities, wanted to carry anthroposophy into the lecture halls. This was to be done by means of an appeal that was sent out to German students in the fall of 1920. Dr. Steiner had, of course, spoken to students in the auditorium of the Technical University in Stuttgart about “Spiritual Science, Natural Science and Technology” in response to a request from students. In July 1920, following this lecture, Mr. Palmer and Mr. Werner Rosenthal sent drafts of an appeal to friends in Breslau, Freiburg i. Br., Hamburg, Heidelberg, Karlsruhe, Leipzig, Munich and Tübingen. Many other versions were received. Finally, we in Stuttgart processed all the suggestions into the appeal that was then sent out. This appeal was very strongly worded. Since none of the so-called leading personalities really followed it up with action, it brought us a great deal of opposition but no positive gain. Above all, the university lecturers were turned into opponents. It was a mistake to believe that anthroposophy had to be brought into the lecture halls. Science should be fertilized by anthroposophy. What was needed was not polemics but the further development of science. But it was too early for that. We were unable to renew science at that time. And the young people? Did they want science spruced up with anthroposophy? No. They wanted anthroposophy. But we did not recognize that at the time. I myself had come to the Mystery Dramas, not to Anthroposophy. But this went unnoticed. The gap grew ever wider between those who wanted to carry Anthroposophy into the lecture halls and the youngest generation, who sought Anthroposophy itself. It is only now that it has become clear to me that we ourselves did not want anything other than Anthroposophy. That is why I believe that we, the somewhat older generation, the “lecturers” of the university courses - and whatever all the events are called - will now really find ourselves with the youth. Because something was living in me, too, although I did not recognize it. That was the tragedy, that was our fault, that we had inaugurated a movement that then petered out. Dr. Steiner held scientific courses in the expectation that those who had requested them would process what was given. Only now is it happening. Dr. Hermann von Baravalle is working on optics, on thermodynamics; others are working on other things. All kinds of working groups have formed. Linguists, educators and architecture students have come together. Mr. Lehrs will speak to you about the future of our youth. I only wanted to draw your attention to the historical moment, to the storm of contemporary history that also burst into our movement in 1918. Let us consciously experience this storm so that it becomes a roar that awakens the tongues of fire that speak the language that everyone, young and old, understands.

End 11 p.m..

by Marie Steiner (1943)

Germany's collapse after the World War had fateful consequences. Revolution, coups, impoverishment and hunger, exploitation by unscrupulous profiteers: all of this played out in wild confusion. Complete chaos loomed.

Then the energies of the people coalesced. While some sought salvation in the violent incitement of national and racial sentiment, hoping in this way to overcome the external and internal enemy in the future, others strove to rekindle the idealism of the intellectual life, which had once been Germany's greatness, in a way that was appropriate to the present. They sought to raise the level of culture and also to overcome social damage by recognizing the true nature of man and his destiny.

Those who, like Rudolf Steiner, had striven for such goals before the war, had been repelled by the indifference of the bourgeoisie, by the resistance and even the scorn of the circles dominating intellectual and economic life. The growing external power of the Reich, its successes in the fields of industry and world trade, gave satisfaction. The gathering storm on the periphery was often overlooked; too little attention had been paid to the forces pushing from below; warning voices had been ignored. Now, in the ever-increasing misery and despair, some hoped that the German would once again focus on his true calling and follow the paths laid out for him by his great minds.

Ways had to be found to channel intellectual impulses into the reality of everyday life in the most diverse areas of practical and social activity. Above all, education had to be placed on a healthy basis, elementary school teaching had to be rescued from dryness and a fresh approach had to be brought into teacher training; university life had to be withdrawn from mechanization; and new methods had to be worked out in medicine that would be based more on knowledge of the living than of the dead. Theologians approached Dr. Steiner, longing to tap into new sources of knowledge; artists were driven by the desire to consciously grasp the unconscious that was seething within them and struggling for expression. With all these desires and problems, people came to Rudolf Steiner, seeking his help to translate their burning aspirations into action.

He had been the voice of warning at the beginning of the 20th century, pointing out the symptoms of our culture and their inevitable consequences, which would have catastrophic effects if we continued to remain indifferent to the demands of the spirit and in the deafening rush for mere material goods. Where this would lead had now been shown in the catastrophe of the world war. The old order had collapsed; now it was necessary to build up anew from the ruins.

The members of the Anthroposophical Society felt obliged to help in this building up. Full of goodwill and noble fire, they wanted to throw their idealism into the balance. They drew courage from the enthusiasm that had been kindled in them by what Rudolf Steiner had revealed to them over the course of almost two decades: the nature of the world and the destiny of the earth, the eternal laws of being and the human-transforming depths of the act of Christ. They wanted to use the knowledge they had gained to enrich practical life.

The most pressing social obligation seemed to be the establishment of a unified school based on an understanding of the nature of the human being. Dr. Steiner gladly accepted the offer to lead the school founded by industrialist Emil Molt for the children of his factory workers. A thorough training course for teachers, led by Dr. Steiner, preceded the opening of the Waldorf School, which soon became known in many circles at home and abroad.

The aim was to bring order and system to the confusion of councils of all kinds in the economic field. Lectures were given at the request of many workers' circles, which had a strong urge but aroused the anger of the party leaders because their content did not correspond to Marxist theories and the slogans that had been issued. A university federation was founded by academic youth with the aim of revitalizing the deadlocked university system. A number of talented young scholars joined forces to fertilize the natural sciences with the results of spiritual research and to experiment in laboratories from new perspectives. Particular attention was paid to the production of remedies based on the knowledge of cosmic laws reflected in earthly ones. The good results achieved led to the founding of clinical-therapeutic institutes in Stuttgart and Arlesheim, which were supervised by several anthroposophical doctors, and later to similar foundations in other countries. Good results were achieved in the field of the production of plant dyes by working out their inherent intense luminosity. Economic associations of members working in industry were formed in order to take tentative steps towards the ideal of the association. Among other things, it was hoped that this merging of businesses would generate more funds to finance the above-mentioned foundations for the benefit of science. Dr. Steiner felt, even if some concerns arose in relation to success, obliged to let the men, who had matured in the practical work, have their way in these matters, since otherwise he could have been reproached with having prevented the necessary basis for the material security of the new enterprises; but this aspect of the matter caused him particular concern.

And here it was where the difficulties soon arose, piled up like mountains. The practitioners proved to be too bound by the thought patterns of the present to be able to cope with the resistance they encountered and the attacks by experienced opponents. Some forces weakened when the first enthusiasm had to be transformed into the laborious drudgery of everyday life in the midst of the most complicated external circumstances. It was a time of inflation, hostile occupations, repeated taxes of all kinds under changing designations, party struggles and the associated malicious persecution of dissenters. Dr. Steiner had to devote more and more of his time to the complications that arose in the enterprises, which the leading personalities there could not cope with. And unfortunately there were also more and more personal differences to be reconciled.

The worst thing was that the best forces were thus drawn away from the work for the anthroposophical movement as such. The new cultural foundations and the economic enterprises were now at the forefront of the interest of those burdened with them, and there was a lack of energetic advocacy for the living conditions of society, a lack of unity in leadership; special interests began to assert themselves there as well. The periphery, however, was dissatisfied with Stuttgart. And the youth, who were now pushing forward and strongly insisting on their cleverness, sought above all to express their new sense of community by criticizing and rebelling. In the midst of this turmoil, Dr. Steiner had to speak out sharply against what was then called the Stuttgart system; he had to travel to Stuttgart more and more often to try to set things right there. It was a time of unspeakable trials and tribulations for him — one can truly say: a martyrdom.

Several years had now passed in the midst of such work and worries, and many a hope had to be buried. Harmonious cooperation could have compensated for much of what the strength of character and endurance of the individual could not achieve. But harsh contradictions had arisen, characters had not found each other, and cliques dominated in society. Dr. Steiner was forced to demand a change in attitude and methods in all seriousness, so that personal considerations would be set aside and whatever was necessary for the consolidation of the Society would be done; otherwise he would be compelled to take quite different paths in order to prevent the movement from being fundamentally damaged by the Society.

Achieving harmony between strongly divergent temperaments was the most difficult task: Dr. Steiner tirelessly tried to bridge the tensions and awaken insight into this necessity.

We live in an age of pronounced personal idiosyncrasy and the most diverse differentiations. And where the strongest convictions have taken hold of souls, it is perhaps most difficult to find a balance between the contradictions that arise. One must have attained a very high degree of respect for other people, of inner tolerance, in order to achieve harmony where the clearly contoured thoughts of individuals come into conflict with each other and “the will hardens in delusion”. The history of the Church shows how relentlessly opposing opinions can confront each other and how quickly fanatical zeal can take the place of inner tolerance. In his mystery drama “The Testing of the Soul”, Dr. Steiner has the young miner say:

... It is still hidden from you
How compelling the power of thought proves,
When it completely takes hold of the human soul...
Thought turns from thought.—
I feel its power in my soul;
To resist it would be for me
would be the true spiritual death of my own being.

This is just to point out some of the otherwise incomprehensible things in the history of the church and religious movements in general. But back then in Stuttgart it was not about matters of faith. Rather, it was about finding each other in order to realize the ideal expressed in the words:

When many people's words
Present themselves to the soul in such a way,
Then it is as if
Mysteriously standing between them
Is the full image of man;
It shows itself in many souls
In a structured way, like the One Light
in the rainbow in many colors.

The souls had to learn to find their way to each other in kindness; the bossy and arrogant in one's own nature had to be recognized so that it could be overcome of one's own free will. They had to recognize the untruthfulness and power-hungry nature within themselves in order to be able to renounce seemingly justified claims. Dr. Steiner called on the souls to do this self-reflection as well, so that the powerful spiritual impulse behind the anthroposophical movement would not be shattered by what can best be characterized by Dr. Steiner's words:

He who, by the grace of higher spiritual powers,
Is allowed to cast glances into human souls,
Sees the enemies that oppose themselves
In their own being.
The battle that our opponents prepare for us
Is only a reflection of the great war
Which a power in the heart of perpetually
Out of hostility against others must lead.

These forces still rage today with their burning embers in souls; they spark catastrophes: both those within people that then destroy the social community, and those of the course of history. To detect them, even in the most secret folds of the soul where they hide, is the task of the modern human being who, in developing the powers of consciousness, is now to cultivate not only self-knowledge but also a sense of community. To do this, we need not only the philosopher's lamp and the surgeon's probe, but also the cherub's lightning bolt that strikes the conscience. Steiner gave us an abundance of light for the development of such self-knowledge, which leads to the formation of an alert sense of community. And the devastating flash of a mighty blow of fate also hit our community. 1923 became the year of the most severe test. The fire destroyed the Goetheanum building, which was a visible symbol of our spiritual and artistic work. But this catastrophe was preceded by discrepancies that manifested the drifting apart of forces that, in their unity, would have formed a spiritual defense. Too many special interests had asserted themselves. This had already become apparent in 1921 and 1922. Dr. Steiner himself described this regrettable phenomenon as follows: the daughter movements forgot the mother movement from which they had drawn their strength. They withdrew from it inwardly by concentrating exclusively on the interests of their particular sphere of activity, and harmed it by often seeking financial support from the impoverished Anthroposophists, despite promises not to do so because other possibilities were available, thus depriving the Society of the very limited funds available.

Dr. Steiner recognized that in order to save the anthroposophical movement from disintegration, he had to gradually reject the increasing number of burdens and responsibilities that were not directly related to it. In an essay that appeared in the “Goetheanum” in 1923, he briefly and objectively explained the reasons for this decision (see Open Letter Regarding My Resignation as Chairman of the Supervisory Board of “Kommende Tag AG”).

From the ranks of the Anthroposophical Youth, who, in addition to a beautiful zeal, naturally also revealed some rashness and clumsiness, an academic university federation had meanwhile emerged, which provoked the worst enmity among professors. The opponents of the most diverse camps and shades, the political, the ecclesiastical, the ideological, the backward occult currents, clenched themselves together into a well-organized hostile power, which had the extermination and destruction of the anthroposophical movement as its goal. They were no longer a few venomous haters spewing venom, whose rage should have gradually dissipated in the face of the truth: powerful, organized parties with widespread hate propaganda emerged.

Dr. Steiner had to make the members aware of the extent to which these things were connected with the mistakes that had been made. Just as he had always warmly and cordially praised all achievements that were made to him, gratefully acknowledged and emphasized every spirit of sacrifice, so now, in order to awaken an awareness of the transgressions, he had to appear firm and seemingly harsh and make demands for the consolidation of society. As early as the beginning of December 1922, he had spoken a decisive word in this direction and at the same time given a Stuttgart board member a task for his colleagues, the conscientious execution of which was particularly important to him – but it was not carried out, it was ignored, overlooked, perhaps overslept... It is not clear what word to use for this failure; it does not seem to have penetrated to the consciousness of the person who received the order. But Dr. Steiner, who had to devote himself to the work in Dornach, waited for the result of the order he had given. When he next visited Stuttgart, he was confronted with an unexpected and confusing situation. In some of his later speeches, he regretfully refers to this [see p. 201 ff.].

The purpose of this commemorative volume is to preserve the words spoken under such difficult conditions and bitter suffering at that time in their context. The above remarks may serve as an introduction to it. They are intended to create an understanding of the special situation in which the anthroposophical movement found itself at that time. They complete the picture of our society's development, which has by no means been happily illuminated only by the gifts of the spirit, but which has also had to struggle through unspeakable hardships and hard struggles and has suffered severely from human inadequacies. It would not be right to keep this secret. Looking at errors must also serve to sharpen and foster our sense of truth and to protect us from vain appearances. Outwardly, the words strung together here as the final words of various lectures may appear pieced together; but they give a picture of our social struggle, and it has historical value to trace these stages chronologically, past the milestones of our trials and our intellectual fall from grace. They point to the confusions and karmic chains of life and to the life conflicts and problems that arise from them. The answer, which only Dr. Steiner could have given, was an unparalleled act of sacrifice; it took place at the Christmas Conference of 1923/24 [GA 260]. After this spiritual atonement for sin that he performed for us, we were able to gain insights into the mighty workings of destiny, as set down in the esoteric reflections of 1924 [GA 235-240]. Cosmic and human events are interwoven there, as if at the focal point of a turning point in time. That we are experiencing such a turning point can be seen from the tragic events of our present time, which exceed all measure and surpass everything that has gone before in terms of horror. The waves of these events have also thrown our ship onto many reefs and dragged it into many whirlpools. It has not yet sunk – a kind fate has spared it. Will we be able to steer it through? That is the anxious question. – We will, if we sharpen our powers of perception on the paths that Rudolf Steiner has shown us, transform them through wisdom into love and mature them into action.

From December 24, 1922 to January 6, 1923, Dr. Steiner gave the lecture cycle “The Moment of Origin of Natural Science in World History and its Development since then” [GA 326], following the very significant lectures “The Spiritual Communion of Humanity” [in GA 219]. It was addressed primarily to young academics, and they also had access to the lectures for members, which began on January 1 following the above-mentioned theme and esoterically deepened what had been said in many directions. On New Year's Eve, the fire disaster occurred: on January 1, 1923, the Goetheanum was a pile of rubble. Despite the fire, there was no break in the work. Not a single event was canceled. Dr. Steiner only touched on the tragic event in brief, simple words, for pain cannot be expressed in words. He did not miss a single lecture or hour of his usual work. He had to divide his attention between Dornach and Stuttgart, interrupting the work in Dornach several times to travel back and forth to Stuttgart. The lectures on 1, 5, 6 and 7 January were on the theme: The Need for the Christ. The task of academic youth to gain knowledge. The recognition of the human heart [in GA 220]. On January 5, he gave the first lecture to the construction workers since the fire; they had all risen from their seats in sympathy when he entered — and even now he only touched on the event with few words, pointing to the crude agitation that had preceded it and to the hate-filled enmity to which the opposition had risen [see p. 70].

The subsequent January lectures, which tie in with the problems of the time and today's science, meet the aspirations of young students; they are contained in the volume “Lebendiges Naturerkennen. Intellektueller Sündenfall und spirituelle Sinnenerhebung” [GA 220]. February 2 saw the lecture 'Know Thyself'. Experiencing the Christ in Man as Light, Life and Love'; the theme of February 3 and 4 was 'The Night-Person and the Day-Person. The I-Being can be introduced into pure thinking' [all three in GA 221]. These are followed by admonitions that are particularly addressed to the members of the Anthroposophical Society and draw on much of what had to be said in Stuttgart in the meantime: “Words of pain, of soul-searching, words to awaken to responsibility” on January 23, and on the 30th: “Forming judgments based on facts. The twofold remelting of a spiritual-scientific judgment” [in GA 257]. February 9 and 10 brought the Dornach lectures: ‘Earthly Knowledge and Celestial Insight. Man as a Citizen of the Universe and Man as an Earthly Hermit’. These were followed on February 11 by ”The Invisible Man in Us. The pathology underlying therapy], and on February 16, 17 and 18, “Moral Impulses and Physical Effectiveness in the Human Being” [all in CW 221]. The subtlest cognitive problems were treated by presenting the phenomena of nature and the facts of the soul life and cosmic events in their context before the spiritual eye of the audience; the fate of those who, struggling to solve these problems, suffered greatly or were broken by them, was described. But in addition to this, Dr. Steiner also spoke those words that related to the new situation of our movement that had arisen as a result of the fire and to the conditions in society and its living conditions, to its tasks in the present and future. Or he interspersed episodic observations that were intended only for the members.

Meanwhile, these problems of society had been discussed again in Stuttgart in an intensive way in the lectures of February 6 and 13 [in GA 257]: “New Thinking and New Volition. The Three Phases of Anthroposophical Work”; “Anthroposophical Society Development. The Soul Drama of the Anthroposophist”. The warning and rallying cry of these lectures was consolidation of the society, self-reflection: an appeal to courageous will.

Dr. Steiner summed up the spiritual goal of the Society in the concluding lecture of the Dornach February series on 22 February: “The Renewal of the Three Great Ideals of Humanity: Art, Science and Religion” [in GA 257]. This lecture, which followed on from the consideration of the previous difficult life problems, is imbued with a solemn and festive mood.

Now the time had come for the delegates' meeting, which had been convened in the meantime, to take place in Stuttgart from February 25 to 28, 1923. The results of those discussions are sufficiently well known through the minutes that were immediately published for the members and through the private printing of the lectures given by Dr. Steiner at the time: “Two lectures for the delegates' meeting”. Dr. Steiner also reported on them in Dornach on 2, 3 and 4 March [GA 257].

The severe social crises unfolding in Stuttgart in 1922 were followed by the fire disaster in Dornach on New Year's Eve. Internal failings and external misfortune demanded a powerful awakening, a mighty upsurge of the soul. The words of Rudolf Steiner give us the awakening power to do so, if we open ourselves to them and do not shy away from the introspection they call for.

He shows us ways out of seemingly unsolvable situations, which, if we enter them with a pure heart and good will, can lead to a broadening of our horizons and to a healthy social structure. In order to accomplish this in conscious awareness – organically alive, not intellectually constructed – he gives us a comprehensive overview of the development of the anthroposophical movement in the Dornach lectures of 1923, about its necessity in the context of the decline of materialistic culture, and about the tremendous responsibility that lies with those who have been called to work in and carry it through.

On January 6, at the end of a meeting convened by the Dornach members to discuss the reconstruction of the Goetheanum, he spoke the following [see p. 73].

Additions to the lectures given by Dr. Steiner in February 1923 “The Will as Active Force" (GA 221)

The theme of the lecture on February 3, “The Night Person and the Day Person,” was the significance for waking daytime life of the experiences of the I and astral body that remain unconscious after they have emerged from the physical body during sleep. In order to make these experiences effective, the will was pointed to as the active force. Choosing an example, Dr. Steiner concluded with the following explanatory consideration:

Looking back at the development of the Anthroposophical Society. Sharpening our sense of responsibility.

In the second part of the lecture on February 4, “The Night-Person and the Day-Person – The I-Being can be thrust into pure thinking,” it was said that the will must be drawn into the inner life of the soul in order for the human being to awaken. This is the basis of initiation in modern times. The Theosophical Society, however, wanted to carry old methods of initiation over into the present. It lacked an historical overview and a sense of the importance of an awareness of the times. Dr. Steiner placed particular emphasis on this difference.

The theme of the lecture on February 9 was “Man as a citizen of the universe and man as an earth hermit”. Anthroposophy must be supported by a new life. The Society has not fully complied with the development of Anthroposophy and must decide whether it is viable or not. The state of the negotiations in Stuttgart. The provisional committee (see p. 113).

The theme of the lecture on February 16 was: “The conflict between Nietzsche's honesty and the dishonesty of the time”. Nietzsche, the representative personality of the last third of the 19th century, was broken by the problems of that time. The task of the Anthroposophical Society is to work on their solution. This can only come about through the soul of the human being acquiring a concrete relationship with the spiritual world. A powerful opposition is rising up against this. The development of the Anthroposophical Society is not keeping pace with the anthroposophical movement. The Society can be compared to a garment that has become too short. Referring to Nietzsche, Dr. Steiner says [see p. 116].

The theme for February 22 was “The renewal of the three great ideals of humanity: art, science and religion” [in GA 257).

The Stuttgart Negotiations on the Consolidation of the Anthroposophical Society

The provisional committee in Stuttgart, which had replaced the former central board, now issued an appeal to the Central European membership, calling on them to send representatives from all branches and working groups to send representatives to a delegate assembly to discuss with awakened responsibility the situation in which the Society had found itself as a result of the various foundations and its own inactivity [see the appeal on page 334]. |

The call was widely heard. The members flocked in droves. From February 25 to 28, this memorable assembly met in the great hall of the Siegle House in Stuttgart, where debates were held with short breaks well into the night. The lectures that Dr. Steiner himself gave during the proceedings in Stuttgart [in CW 257] are not recommended for study with sufficient intensity. If we let the content of these transcripts sink in, we too will be able to find ways out of seemingly unsolvable situations in the sense of growing organically beyond ourselves. Even if situations do not repeat themselves in the same way, the spirit in which they were resolved at the time points the way forward. It comes to us fully in Rudolf Steiner's speeches, in their straightforward severity, unity and all-embracing warmth of love, in their urgency that awakens our conscience. In this commemorative volume, those words are to be reproduced in which Dr. Steiner intervened, albeit rarely, in the general discussion during the four days of negotiations in Stuttgart.

Course of the Stuttgart Delegates' Conference

On February 25th, after the welcoming address by the chairman of the assembly, Mr. Leinhas, Dr. Kolisko gave a report on the serious situation in which society had found itself since 1919 due to the various new foundations; above all, the Federation for the Threefold Social Order, the School of Spiritual Science, the research institutes and the movement for religious renewal. The leading personalities of the individual institutions focused all their attention on their new foundations, which included, most gratefully, the Waldorf School, the Clinical Therapy Institute and the Kommende Tag. But it is fair to say that the parent organization, from which the daughter movements drew their strength, was forgotten. It was, so to speak, neglected. The tasks that arose for the anthroposophical community were neglected. Instead of warm relationships from person to person, a sober bureaucracy gradually emerged; the leading personalities in the institutions faced each other individually, without mutual understanding. The branch offices on the periphery were not sufficiently informed about what was happening in the society. This is what has been called the “Stuttgart system.” It led to compartmentalization and isolation; now this must stop, and contact with the entire membership must be reestablished. The delegates are asked to provide a picture of the situation in the Society from their point of view and not to be afraid to express criticism.

On this first day, a great many people immediately spoke up. When on the second day, February 26, the danger of digressing from the central question repeatedly emerged, Dr. Steiner had to point out that in order not to lose sight of the goal, one should stick to the actual topic: the consolidation of the Society, which now had to reflect on itself and its tasks. He spoke as follows (see p. 376).

After a procedural debate, the decision was taken to hear the reports on the individual institutions, since the difficulties had arisen from their justifications. Dr. Unger's paper on the threefold social organism points to the source of the difficulties: the branches had been appropriated for work in the spirit of threefolding; but the work of the Anthroposophical Society had been largely destroyed by this. The consequence of that work in the outer world was an enormous opposition that now pounced on Anthroposophy and Dr. Steiner. In a good sense, the threefold social order movement gave rise to the Waldorf School, founded on social impulse, the Clinical Therapeutic Institute, the scientific institutes, the journals and the 'Federation for Free Spiritual Life' — as well as the efforts of the 'Day to Come', which of course met with strong resistance in the outside world. The task for the Society now is to give effect to the social impulse within. The social demand involves something that is connected with the transformation of the whole person and requires constant work on oneself; the lectures that Dr. Steiner gave at the Vienna Congress are an example of this. — The proletarians take a lively part in the discussion that now follows.

In response to a delegate's request that we should first hear all the presentations before continuing with the discussion that has just begun, Dr. Steiner remarks:

"I think we really should take care to bring this to a fruitful conclusion. It may well be — although this has not been emphasized enough — that the fate of the Society depends on these three days. If we do not come to a result in these three days, there will be no alternative but for me to address every single member of the Society myself to ensure that this is carried out. So, if a reorganization is to take place within the Society, it must be done in these three days. We are in an Anthroposophical Society: everything is interrelated. You will be best able to form an opinion and also to talk about the threefold order when you have heard everything. Everything is interrelated. Therefore, it is most practical if you let the presentations run and get the full picture; then a fruitful discussion can arise, while each speaker will be tempted to talk about each individual detail — which leads to infertility. Mr. Conrad's proposal is practical: that we run the presentations as quickly as possible so that we know what has happened in Stuttgart as a whole.

Conrad's motion is carried.

In the presentation by Mr. Emil Leinhas on the 'Coming Day', he describes the emergence of joint-stock companies as an attempt to form a core of associative economic life through a merger of banking, industry and agriculture with scientific and intellectual enterprises. The implementation of the idea on a large scale failed due to the lack of understanding shown by leading circles of economic life.

There then followed papers [see p. 392 ff.] on the free Waldorf school (Dr. Caroline von Heydebrand), on the Clinical-Therapeutic Institute (Dr. Otto Palmer), the scientific research institute (Dr. Rudolf Maier), the scientific movement (Dr. Eugen Kolisko), a paper on the relation of anthroposophy to the Movement for Religious Renewal (Dr. Herbert Hahn), and one on the “Federation for Anthroposophical School of Spiritual Science Work” (Dr. W. J. Stein). The discussions continued on Tuesday, February 27. The address of the chairman introducing the proceedings was followed by a lecture on “Youth Movement and Anthroposophy” (Ernst Lehrs, Jena) and one on the opposition (Louis Werbeck, Hamburg); there was also a lecture on the “Bund für freies Geistesleben” (Dr. Karl Heyer). For the following discussions, speaking time had to be limited to ten minutes. When a motion to elect a new executive committee was suddenly raised, Dr. Steiner responded with the following words:

"This assembly has come together to decide on the fate of the Society. And it is truly necessary that the individual participants become aware of the importance of the moment. The Anthroposophical Society is certainly not a bowling club. It is therefore absolutely impossible to approach the Anthroposophical Society with the pretension that a board of directors should now be elected before the circumstances as they now exist have been thoroughly discussed. That is something you can do in a bowling club, but not in the Anthroposophical Society, where continuity is above all necessary. It can only be a matter of this meeting being brought to a close by those who were the leading personalities in Stuttgart. How this can be discussed, especially at this moment, is beyond me. We would descend into utter chaos if motions such as Dr. Toepel's were to be tabled at such a moment. Such motions can only be tabled if the intention is to blow the whole meeting apart.

Dr. Toepel's motion was rejected.

Discussions on the problems of youth and the proletariat continued until the evening, when Dr. Steiner gave the first of his two lectures on the conditions for “Anthroposophical Community Building”. It is printed in the stenographic transcript [GA 257] and should be studied in detail. In it, particular emphasis is placed on the understanding of a different kind of community element than that present in the original human context, which is based first on blood ties, then on language and the memory of shared experiences. A powerful relationship that connects people arises from a shared cult, as it has now been given to the movement for religious renewal. The true cultus imparts the memory of the pre-earthly existence, even if this memory remains in the subconscious depths of the soul. Forces from the spiritual worlds are carried down in the living images of the cultus; the cultic act is then not a symbol, but a bearer of power, because the human being has before him that which belongs to his spiritual environment when he is not in the earthly body. This different nature, which the Anthroposophical Society needs as a basis for building a community, lies in the fact that it must not only understand the secret of language and memory, which is the connecting element in community life, but must also look to something else in human life. A comparison of the dreaming state of man with the waking state can lead us to this understanding. In the world of his dreams, the human being is isolated; he is alone there. When he wakes up, he wakes up to a certain extent into a human community through the nature of his relationship to the outside world: through light and sound, through space in its warmth and the rest of the sensory world, through the appearance of other people, that which is their natural side. But there is still another awakening; this can take place through the call of the spiritual soul in the other person. And here the first understanding of the spiritual world begins. We may see beautiful pictures in the isolation of dreams, we may experience great things in this isolated dream consciousness: but our real understanding of anthroposophy only begins when we awaken to the soul and spiritual reality of the other person. And the strength for this awakening can be generated by cultivating spiritual idealism in a community of people. Real idealism is present when — just as in the form of worship the spiritual world is carried down into the earthly world — something that the human being has learned to recognize and understand in the earthly world is now elevated by him into the ideal. He can raise it into the spiritual and supersensible, and it comes to life when he penetrates it in the right way with feeling and a true will impulse. By permeating his whole inner being with such will, man, by idealizing his sensory experience, takes the opposite path to a cultic act. Through the living power he puts into shaping his ideas about the spiritual, he experiences something awakening that is the opposite of a cult: the sensual is raised into the supersensible. We must learn, through our soul disposition, to let a real spiritual being be present in the space in which the word of anthroposophy resounds. Then, shared real spirituality will sink into the awakened soul; but it must be evoked from the deepest sources of human consciousness itself.

Anthroposophy is independent of any anthroposophical society. It can be found by people forming communities out of the awakening they experience with each other; then they want to stay together for spiritual reasons. If we can pour anthroposophical impulses into our hearts with full clarity, we will also emerge from the present chaos; otherwise we will get deeper and deeper into the tragedy of this chaos. Two groups of people in this hall cannot understand each other, but both want to stand up for anthroposophy: that is the reality of the present situation. Since no possibility has been found to bring the two groups of people in the Anthroposophical Society to a mutual understanding, only one solution remains: each group could continue to work in their own way in separate organizations. One could then accept each other, since one no longer stands in each other's way, and would be able to achieve the desired unity and brotherhood through this purely organizational separation.

At first, this suggestion by Dr. Steiner caused great consternation. It was difficult to come to terms with what seemed to realize what everyone had feared above all: the threatening split in the Anthroposophical Society.

The chairman now asks that the discussion be adapted to what has been given by Dr. Steiner's lecture.

First, Mr. Uehli emphasized that, although he was no longer speaking as a member of the central board, he would like to express what he sees as his life's work: to continue to work with both the young, new members and those who have been there from the beginning and represent the historically developed society, in constant loyalty and with firm, honest will. He hopes that if the membership follows this path, then the various institutions founded since 1919 can also be supported by all and carried to what they are needed for.

After him, Dr. Unger takes the floor. It is only fair to let him, as the most outstanding representative of the historic Anthroposophical Society, which has become a hindrance to the egoism of some new members, have a personal word here. Dr. Unger stated the following [see p. 420].

Dr. Kolisko was the third to speak. He expressed the horror he felt at Dr. Steiner's suggestion that they should henceforth work together in two groups in a friendly way, instead of fighting each other in one [see p. 422].

Dr. Steiner replied: “I have only one request: you have seen from what has been discussed that tomorrow we will all have every reason to talk about those things that lead to a kind of consolidation of the Society in one form or another. I see no need to talk about things that are in order, for example the eurythmy section. We must begin with the present central council briefly setting out its view, so that we can arrive at something positive. I do not see that it is necessary to talk about things that are in order. Why do we want to fill the time with this and not finally address the things that need to be put in order? I would like to point out this necessity with the perspective that I ask you to consider something tonight or tomorrow and to deal first with what is necessary: to remodel or to redesign."

On behalf of the nine-member board, which has now taken the place of the old central board, Dr. Unger makes the following statement [see $. 429].

A representative of the youth movement, Dr. H. Büchenbacher, expressed his thanks to Dr. Steiner for helping to find a solution by which young people could continue their own anthroposophical development without having to contribute to the chaos and atomization of society. Until yesterday it seemed as if the youth were the impetus that could have led society into chaos. Now, alongside what has become historically established society, something new could unfold with a certain independence, but which also wants to serve the whole anthroposophical movement. Dr. Steiner believes it is possible for one and the same person to be active in both groups, regardless of age. The friendly connection between the two groups will arise out of Anthroposophy, and the present obstructive opposition will disappear.

Dr. Kolisko no longer wishes to adhere to his previously stated objections, now that it has been established that the split is not a “split” but a division.

In response to the chairman's announcement that there are 55 requests to speak and some written communications, a motion is made to vote on the program of the commission of nine. After a few comments, the assembly unanimously approves the program. The depression has given way to a joyful feeling since Dr. Steiner helped out of the emergency with his advice. A so-called tactical proposal for this living together of two families under one roof is still made out of a concerned soul: if the three different directions - art, science and religion - were represented more, without prejudice to the actual leadership of the branches, this living together could be easier.

After the morning discussion, Dr. Steiner gave his second lecture on the conditions for building community in the Anthroposophical Society (in GA 257).

The subsequent discussion mainly focuses on this area. In addition, debates are held on scientific problems and discussions about the possible founding of a free university. Finally, the great moment arrives when the chairman closes the meeting with a review of the serious concerns that gave rise to the convening of this meeting of delegates; the proceedings have shown how justified these concerns were. He expresses his thanks to the audience for the serious participation they have shown in the fate of the Society. It is thanks to the active help of Dr. Steiner that we have emerged from chaos and can look to the future with confidence. It is out of the right love for the work that the strength for the right action will arise.

Dr. Steiner's advice had been given on the basis of what he had encountered from the assembly, and with full consideration of what he wanted to be respected and observed as the sphere of human freedom of the soul. That is why the negotiations and discussions had to take so long and could not be abruptly interrupted; they were intended to lead to insight, not to surging emotions and majority decisions. In wise foresight of human weakness, which overcomes only through repeated new approaches and constant willingness to purify the will and recognize the errors, he spoke the prophetic but so obvious word: For a few years it would now go well again! At least it would be possible to work again. — And with his usual energy, he now set to work on the new construction of the international society, which was to be based on the individual national societies, now that it could be hoped that the affairs of the society in Germany would be steered in the right direction.

“What was the aim of the Goetheanum and what is the aim of anthroposophy?”

Further work in Switzerland and Stuttgart
Journey to Prague and Norway
The international delegates' conference in Dornach

Dr. Steiner reports on the events of the Stuttgart delegates' meeting in Dornach on 2, 3 and 4 March [in GA 257].

What Dr. Steiner otherwise spoke about in Dornach from the beginning of March to the end of June carries us upwards with a mighty flapping of wings, beyond the troubles and pains of everyday life to cosmic expanses, to the brilliant deeds of the spirit, which radiate over and give impulses to the historical becoming on earth and are mirrored in that which is our connecting link with the spiritual world: art. These new Dornach lecture series begin with esoteric reflections on: “The Impulsion of World-historical Events by Spiritual Powers” (March 11-23 [GA 222]). Language and music relate us to spiritual powers; between falling asleep and waking, they create a connection between our astral body and our ego and the hierarchies. But their influence on earthly events is reflected in historical events, which are, after all, images of supersensible deeds.

A trip to Stuttgart brings new ideas for education (March 25-29); the given material is presented in the lectures: “Education and Art”, “Education and Morality” [in GA 304 a]. On March 31, the esoteric reflections on the “Annual Cycle of the Year and the Four Great Festival Seasons” [CW 223] began in Dornach, which particularly elaborate the idea of resurrection and came to a preliminary conclusion on April 8. On the 13th, a further spiritual high point was reached in the lectures on “The Recapturing of the Living Source of Language through the Christ Impulse” [in GA 224], which open up the prospect of a future Michaelmas festival.

Meanwhile, Bern had also been visited. In the local branch there, Dr. Steiner spoke about “Shaping Destiny in Sleep and Wakefulness, about the Spirituality of Language and the Voice of Conscience” [in GA 224]. On April 5, he gave the public lecture in the Grossratssaal in Bern, and on the 9th in Basel: “What did the Goetheanum want and what should anthroposophy do?” The text of the Basel lecture is contained in the volume of the same title [GA 84].

Now, in addition to the workers' lectures and introductory words to public eurythmy performances, education is once again taking center stage in Dornach. A vacation course is taking place for teachers and those interested in education (April 14-22): eight lectures, published under the title “Educational Practice from the Point of View of Anthroposophical Knowledge of Man. The Education of Children and Young People” [GA 306]. The focus was on school management.

Following the course for teachers and those interested in education, Dr. Steiner gave the anthroposophical evening lectures in such a way that they could also be understood by those who had only recently come to anthroposophy. They provide an overview of human life in its entirety, in sleep and in wakefulness. Everything that had been gathered so far from the most diverse sources to shed light on the soul life of man: how it develops out of a dull germinal state, becomes a mirror of unfolding images, gradually to grasp itself consciously in the faculty of thinking and finally to awaken in it through lively, inwardly stirring thoughts – it is here transformed into a practice of knowledge, into a science of the soul that grows beyond dogmatic boundaries. The path is precisely characterized, which, through methodical practice, can give each individual the opportunity to overcome, from within, the passivity of reflecting thought and to transform it into active engagement. And this is something that is needed not only by the philosopher and the scientist to overcome cultural decline, but above all by the artist if he is to grasp the creative element in which art is rooted and can flourish alone. Above all, it is needed by the artist of life, who has made the education of the developing human being his particular task.

The presentation of this path of knowledge through the awakening of thinking activity provides a living foundation, not only for an insight into the human being's structure of being, but also for his being placed in the totality of the universe. How the individual elements of the human being are connected to the corresponding worlds of the universe is described here from within.

These five lectures, which effectively supplement the content of “How to Know Higher Worlds” and “The Stages of Higher Knowledge”, are printed in the volume “What Was the Goal of the Goetheanum and What is the Purpose of Anthroposophy?” [GA 84].

On April 22, the general assembly of the Swiss national society took place, during which the decision was made to take the necessary external steps to secure the reconstruction of the Goetheanum [see $. 477 ff.]. The inner possibility for this had been created by Rudolf Steiner's consciousness-awakening and morally uplifting activity. His tireless response to the pleas of the distant branches that invited him had developed that unifying sense of community that made the members look to Dornach as the center of their spiritual striving, where they would always seek to strengthen themselves. In essence, the form of reorganization of the society, which had been torn apart by the world war, emerged naturally from the real forces present: the outstanding spirituality of Rudolf Steiner, the world situation at that time and the soul need of the members to have a common meeting place, also locally at the place itself, for that activity combining art, science and mystery knowledge. It was only necessary to have a clear picture of all the circumstances present, so that each individual could develop the will to participate in deeds that would benefit humanity, out of an objectively focused clarity of soul.

Via Stuttgart, which was always urgently awaiting Dr. Steiner with its many concerns, the journey now continued to Prague. Negotiations were planned there with a view to founding a Czech national society. In addition to the public lectures on “The Eternity of the Soul in the Light of Anthroposophy” (April 27) and on “Human Development and Education in the Light of Anthroposophy” (April 30) [both in CW 84], and in addition to the introductory the introductory words to the eurythmy performance in the large, sold-out Deutsches Theater (Sunday matinee on April 29), Dr. Steiner addressed the branch in the Zweige during the important discussions about human development in early childhood and the work of the hierarchies on him in prenatal life. These two lectures, given on April 28 and 29, penetrate deeply into the mystery of language; they culminate in remarks about the mystery of Golgotha and are printed in the volume: “The Human Soul in Its Connection with Divine-Spiritual Individualities. The Interiorization of the Annual Festivals” [GA 224]. We do not have a shorthand transcript of the proceedings concerning the Society's finances, but we do have the short address with which Dr. Steiner responded to the words of greeting from the local friends [see $. 134].

On 2 May, Dr. Steiner will once again be giving his lecture in Stuttgart, which is of great importance for speech artists. The lecture is published as a brochure with the title 'The Individualized Logos and the Art of Detaching the Spirit from the Word' [in GA 224]. On May 5, before his actual topic 'The Spiritual Crisis of the 19th Century', he reports in Dornach on the working days in Prague (see $. 136).

Following on from the Dornach report on the working days in Prague, Dr. Steiner also spoke on May 6 about the spiritual crisis in the last third of the 19th century [fin GA 225], which started from a critical consideration of the novel “Auch Einer” by the so-called Schwaben-Vischer, the well-known aesthetician. And on May 7, Ascension Day, we receive as a festival gift the lecture “The Easter Thought, the Revelation of Ascension and the Mystery of Pentecost” [in GA 224]. The festival reflection was followed by a workers' lecture on May 7 and 9 [in GA 349]. Seen in retrospect, the closing words of the lecture for members, which relate to the guard duty of those who have taken on the task of watching over the place of work that remains to us since the fire, may seem curious, but perhaps they are indicative of all the things to which Dr. Steiner had to devote his care.

Dr. Steiner was able to work in Dornach for barely a week before we left for Norway via Stuttgart and Berlin.

The stay there lasted from 14 to 21 May with several events each day: In Kristiania (Oslo) there were two semi-public lectures on education; six branch lectures, recorded in the essay 'Human Nature, Human Destiny and World Development' [GA 226]; an address in the Vidar branch on social issues, on the occasion of the founding of the national society; two eurythmy performances; two semi-public lectures on “Anthroposophy and Art. Anthroposophy and Poetry” [in CW 276]; a Whitsun meditation: ‘World Whitsun, the Message of Anthroposophy’ [in CW 226] — and much more. It may be mentioned in this brief survey, which categorizes the lectures recorded in shorthand, that in addition to countless conversations with visitors, many other events had to be inserted into the overcrowded daily program. — Dr. Steiner's address at the Vidar Group's general assembly on 17 May has been preserved for us [see $. 469].

Dr. Steiner reported only briefly on the Nordic journey, introducing his first lecture in Dornach [see $. 143], after he had returned via Berlin and Stuttgart and arrived here on May 27. On May 23, in addition to a eurythmy performance, a branch lecture had taken place in Berlin about the nature of human experience during sleep and waking, about the feasts and the approach of the power of Michael. This lecture is printed under the title 'The Riddles of the Inner Man' [in CW 224]. Stuttgart had many concerns of a different kind that took up all of Dr. Steiner's time.

And now Dr. Steiner [in Dornach] spoke about the nature of the different cultural epochs in their connection with art, especially about ancient Greece, and about the original art: language. In the reflections that followed this lecture, 'The Artistic in its World Mission, the Genius of Language and the World of the Revealing Radiance' (May 27 to June 9 [GA 276]), he gave what is surely the most profound and comprehensive account of art that has ever been given.

The lectures for the workers at the Goetheanum should also be mentioned, which took place repeatedly in Dornach from 1922 onwards. They are of a very special educational value and contain Dr. Steiner's answers to questions on various topics of interest to workers. They surprise with the freshness and immediacy of their tone.

Meanwhile, the wishes of the foreign members to see a second Goetheanum erected had taken on ever more concrete form and combined with the efforts of the Swiss members. The Annual General Meeting of the Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland, held in Dornach on June 10, took up a proposal contained in a letter dated June 8 “To the branches in all countries” from the Anthroposophical Society in Great Britain, and passed a resolution to convene a meeting of delegates from all countries in Dornach at the end of July. This joint decision was to lead to the longed-for reconstruction of the Goetheanum and the necessary financial measures. The negotiations of the general assembly of the Swiss national society on June 10 [see p. 512] were followed by the eight lectures on “The History and Conditions of the Anthroposophical Movement in Relation to the Anthroposophical Society” [GA 258]. They lasted until June 17. On the morning of June 17, the memorable general assembly of the Goetheanum Building Association took place, attended by a large number of delegates. Dr. Steiner's address was a deeply moving one.

Now it had become necessary to visit Stuttgart again. The subject of the lecture of June 21, which followed the usual concerns, was: “Our Thought Life in Sleep and Wakefulness and in the Post-mortal Existence” [in GA 224]. He gave a presentation of the duality in man, who is at once a rung in heaven and an earthly germ, and how both express themselves in the nervous system on the one hand and in the blood system on the other. The lecture has just been published and should be of particular interest. It culminates in the description of that region of the physical being that makes it possible to realize human freedom.

On this occasion, the profound difference between the theosophical and anthroposophical movements was also discussed and the essential point of the anthroposophical movement was emphasized.

On June 24, a double Midsummer celebration took place in Dornach, with introductory words about the Midsummer mood during the eurythmy performance, and in the evening with the now also published lecture: “The Sharpened Midsummer View” [in GA 224].

On June 29, we experienced the deeply moving cremation ceremony of Hermann Linde, the second chair of the building association, who worked so devotedly for the Goetheanum, and the painter of the great dome of the Goetheanum, who, it can be said, had his heart broken by the fire disaster. That same evening, Dr. Steiner gave a lecture in his memory on life after death and our relationship with the dead [in GA 261]. On June 30 and July 1, at a subsequent pedagogical conference for Swiss teachers, Dr. Steiner spoke on the topic “Why Anthroposophical Pedagogy?” The lecture was published in “Anthroposophical Study of Man and Education” [GA 304 a]. The evening lecture on July 1 was on “The Constitution of Our Civilization” [in GA 225]. This was followed by daily visits to the Waldorf School in Stuttgart, as well as attending to social concerns and inspecting the scientific institutes and research laboratories. The lecture of 4 July [in GA 224], which is contained in the same volume as that of 21 June, took up considerations about living and dead thinking and emphasized the necessity of penetrating to a real soul teaching. Starting from Mauthner's 'Criticism of Language', Dr. Steiner discusses the spiritual foundations of the human soul life, the reality of thinking, feeling and willing, which has been lost to our time, so that only the abstract word remains. With all due recognition of the scientific merits of some outstanding contemporaries, such as Rubner and Schweitzer, and with full appreciation of Albert Schweitzer's important work “Decay and Rebuilding of Culture”, Rudolf Steiner shows the powerlessness of today's thinking in the face of the cultural decline of our time, using examples taken from some of their works.

It can only be noted that from July 11 to 14 in Stuttgart, the priests of the Christian Community were also given what enabled them to further develop the movement for religious renewal.

In Dornach, a new series of lectures began on July 6, which has been published in the volume 'Three Perspectives on Anthroposophy' [GA 225]. In it, the difference between Western, Central European and Eastern folk spirituality was elaborated; the reflection culminates in the harrowing lecture of July 15 on the earthly astral realm in the Ural and Volga region.

And now, after some profound remarks in the introductory words to eurythmy, we arrive at some interesting working lectures, at the proceedings of the particularly well-attended international assembly of delegates from 20 to 23 July and the three informative lectures on the “Three Perspectives of Anthroposophy” given in the evenings following those important proceedings. The words of serious admonition spoken by Dr. Steiner during those negotiations can be found in this volume [see p. 593]. The reconstruction of the Goetheanum was now assured. In the third lecture of the “Three Perspectives”, Dr. Steiner expressed, in the name of anthroposophy, his deepest satisfaction with what had been negotiated at this conference with regard to the reconstruction of the Goetheanum.

The decision to rebuild the Goetheanum was taken by the entire Anthroposophical Society that had gathered in Dornach – in other words, by the entire Society through its authorized representatives. The work should be approached with new joy, albeit with new concerns.

Anthroposophical impulses must bring about an awakening from the cultural slumber of humanity.

Now that the construction of a second Goetheanum building had to be considered, Dr. Steiner again turned to the tasks of art with particular intensity. He saw the main task of anthroposophy in relation to art as being its reunification with the forces of the universe. It arises from the spirit and enables human beings to sense the divine in the image. When science became dominant in the sense of intellectualistic thinking, art also led to naturalism. Gradually, it too lost its connection with the universe, which had become a mechanically functioning structure of rotating spheres. Art lost its significance through the materialism that dominated it; after all, nature itself cannot be surpassed by its image, and the trivialities of life cannot satisfy the soul in the long run. The consequence is a barbarization of culture through naturalism, which remains in the realm of the obvious. If art does not rise above nature by absorbing its creative principle and climbing up to spiritual heights through the path of spiritual experience, if it is unable to elevate earthly reality to the level of the ideal, then it must degenerate. Dr. Steiner repeatedly emphasized the infinite significance of art as a path to the spirit. Art, religion and science had to be reunited, as was the case in the ancient mysteries. The Goetheanum wanted to serve this purpose. Hostile forces had destroyed it. Now a second attempt should be made.

For months, Dr. Steiner had been working tirelessly on the moral foundation of society. He could hope that his call, which repeatedly called on souls to awaken, to become aware of what they owed to the world situation and what they had to bring into the world to counteract the decline of culture, had not gone unheard. Now that the new building was to be tackled, he turned again from the scientific and philosophical problems that had been treated particularly intensively in the preceding months, to ever deeper explanations of the ancient mystery being and the art that emerged from it. During the delegates' meeting, he was able to say many things not yet expressed about the weaving of language rooted in the universe during a eurythmy performance, since he could count on the anthroposophists as an audience that had the necessary prerequisites for understanding more intimate spiritual nuances. It is preserved under the title 'The Imaginative Revelation of Language' [in GA 277]. Then, after the delegates' conference, he gave a cycle of three lectures on the secrets of the planetary system, in addition to the carefully prepared workers' lectures. More could not be wrested from the limited time before the new journey, but this short cycle gives a basis for the mood that must prevail in the souls if they are to penetrate into the essence of the mystery teaching.

These three lectures concluded with an appeal to overcome all sectarianism so that anthroposophy can continue the development of humanity in the right way [see p. 162].

“Coming out of the sectarianism” was something that Dr. Steiner had to emphasize again and again. A broad-heartedness towards the needs and demands of the world, not becoming absorbed in one's own concerns but having one's eyes open to one's surroundings: this was what he regarded as the necessary basis in that fateful year of 1923 in order to be able to respond to the repeated pleas of members : to begin again with the closed circle the esoteric work together, similar to that which had taken place before the World War, but during the war and the post-war period was not considered by him to be an option [GA 264 and 265]. This is because the demonically ravaged astral sphere of the earthly realm makes it impossible; it would, so to speak, give the demons of hatred the opportunity to open themselves gateways into the souls. In other ways too, people are never more exposed to whisperings or distracting, tempting thoughts than in such hours of collective concentration, which can signify a catharsis, but where the evil and contradictory still present in the souls still rise up before they recede, the elemental beings, so to speak, gather. It is not without reason that monasteries were often said to be besieged by demons. — Dr. Steiner replied to those complaining about the renunciation: We too have to bear our share of human karma; we cannot withdraw from it. This makes it all the more important for the individual to be vigilant in their meditation. To those who repeatedly asked Dr. Steiner in the post-war period to resume the joint esoteric work, he replied: “First learn to get along with each other. You must first learn to sit at the same table. Only then can you work together esoterically.

Slowly and gradually, he tried to prepare the future by creating a moral fund that he intended to give and that would become a summary of everything that is set out in his many esoteric considerations, which are available as cycles, in his individual appearances.

Working weeks in England

The journey to England was a rich and varied experience. It began with the pedagogical course in Ilkley, a small town in Yorkshire, which lasted from August 5 to 17 and the content of which has been published in several editions as a book entitled “Contemporary Spiritual Life and Education” [GA 307]. On his return to Dornach, Dr. Steiner gave a detailed report on the conference, which also conveys the mood associated with this area, where naked industrialism devastates the soul in black cities, and where traces of ancient spirituality surprisingly emerge from the green solitude of high moors.

This cycle, dedicated to pedagogy, was followed by the purely anthroposophical one in Penmaenmawr from August 18 to 31, which is preserved in the book “Initiations-Erkenntnis. The spiritual and physical development of the world and of humanity in the past, present and future, from the point of view of anthroposophy” [GA 227]. There were also several addresses by Dr. Steiner that have not yet been published, which may find their place here because they repeatedly contain new, surprising or essential insights, sometimes ones that are not noted anywhere else.

After being welcomed by the organizers of the conference in Penmaenmawr, Dr. Steiner gave the following address.

The first course lecture took place on the morning of the following day, opened by the highly esteemed pedagogue and social worker Miss McMillan, whose effectiveness in the report of Dr. Steiner will be mentioned. In the afternoon, a discussion followed among members about anthroposophical work in England, at which Dr. Steiner was asked to speak. He said the following, which can also give us some guidelines [see $. 170].

The following evenings were devoted to discussing the wisdom that had been received in the meantime. Dr. Steiner was asked to answer questions that people had not fully grasped intellectually. He was happy to address them.

Art and its future task: colors, language, eurythmy.

The course lectures continued in the mornings, with discussions and presentations by members in the evenings. On the evening of August 24, Dr. Steiner spoke about colors and the tasks of art [in GA 284] following Baron Rosenkrantz's lecture and concluded with the words: “But that [replicating nature] is also true artistic creation, and all the arts will come back to this to a greater or lesser extent in the future. That was artistic creation in all great art epochs. And that is what also shone forth in all the individual examples of Baron Rosenkrantz's excellent lecture. That is what you can see particularly wherever new artistic impulses emerge in the evolution of the earth. From these new impulses one can draw courage and hope that new forms of art can indeed arise out of what can be experienced in spiritual science. — How eurythmy has arisen from this, I will take the liberty of explaining in a special lecture, which is to be scheduled, which has been requested. In doing so, I will perhaps be able to add a few more details to what I have said today.

Dr. Steiner was also asked to give more details about the art of eurythmy and how it came about. On August 26, he gave a brief overview of its origin and sketched out its basic laws, which rest in the supersensible and embrace the whole human being. We find this lecture printed as an introduction to the book 'Eurythmie als sichtbarer Gesang' [GA 278].

Therapeutic principles and curative eurythmy

On one of the following evenings, Dr. Steiner was asked to speak about the therapeutic principles that have emerged from the anthroposophical world view. The rather long lecture he gave on this subject is printed in the volume “Anthroposophical Knowledge of Man and Medicine” [GA 319].

On August 31, Dr. Steiner said goodbye to the organizers and participants of the course [His farewell words will appear in the Complete Edition in GA 227].

Re-constitution of the English Anthroposophical Society

Some questions about the reconstitution of the English Anthroposophical Society had already been discussed in Penmaenmawr. Now in London, this was the focus of attention. On September 2, the Annual General Meeting of the “British Anthroposophical Society” took place in London. He answered the questions put to him by Dr. Steiner in a way that also pointed the way forward for us. We have a shorthand record of his remarks [see $. 603].

On the same day, the lecture that appeared some time ago as the esoteric study, “The Human Being as the Image of Spiritual Beings and Spiritual Activity on Earth” (in GA 228), took place in the Zweige. As if continuing to answer a question that had already been asked in Penmaenmawr, Dr. Steiner spoke about the significance of the state of sleep for the development of the ego in man: there his soul plunges into the world of the stars. In earthly existence, the ego is initially darkness of life, non-existence, only a hint of the true being. Man on earth is only the image of that which of his true nature never descends into earthly existence. But the hierarchies also work in his organism. They gave him a dull cosmic consciousness, which lived as an instinctive clairvoyant power in an older human race. Through the Mystery of Golgotha, man can now freely acquire a new cosmic and ego consciousness. This meditation concludes with a meditation to gain the I.

Medical lectures for doctors were also held on September 2 and 3 [in GA 319]. It should also be noted that it was not uncommon, no, often the case that Dr. Steiner had to give three or even four lectures in one day.

Dr. Steiner took leave of his friends in London with the words [see p. 177].

Dr. Steiner on the work and impressions of the journey in England

On September 9, Dr. Steiner gave an account of his journey and stay in England in Dornach. This lecture is a wonderful evocation of the many impressions that made that time so rich. [In the new edition of GA 228.]

The lecture on September 10 was another highlight in the presentation of cosmic-human interrelations, of the interlocking of heavenly wisdom and the human soul opening to it, which ultimately, “always creating itself, becomes aware of itself.” [*From ” Anthroposophical Calendar of the Soul] This irradiation of the spiritual and divine into the earthly-human sphere is the content of the meditation that pictorially describes cosmic-earthly becoming and its metamorphosis into self-awareness in the time between Johanni and Michaelmas, but in the magic of the ancient Druidic culture, under the immediate impression of those mountain peaks of Wales with the remains of ancient cult sites – austere, stone-grey and primeval, but sun-drenched and with an inner strength that is still tangible today. The gusts of wind and heavy showers that blow in between give the radiance in the sky ever-new charm and proclaim the sun's triumph, despite the forces fighting against it. And in the deep warm violet of the heather flowing down the mountain slopes, sending its color greeting to the foaming sea below, the soul drinks in refreshment.

This lecture has also been preserved and will soon be published under the title: “The Druid Priest's Solar Initiation and his Knowledge of the Moon Beings” [in GA 228].

Conference of the German Anthroposophical Society

The first conference of the Anthroposophical Society in Germany, founded at the end of February, took place in Stuttgart from September 13 to 17 at the Siegle House. In the invitation, its goals were described as follows [see $. 615].

On three evenings (14, 15 and 16), Dr. Steiner gave lectures on the subject “Man in the Past, Present and Future” [in GA 228]. He greeted those present with the words [see $. 625].

This was followed by a presentation of the human being, how it has developed in a certain past, how it stands in the immediate present, and how its perspectives arise for the future of human development on our planet Earth.

Dr. Unger submitted the “Draft of the Basic Principles” for discussion (see p. 635). The meeting decided to leave further work on it and its transmission to the Dornach Conference to the Executive Council.

From this point of view, the members in Germany prepared the founding of the General Anthroposophical Society on a new basis in Dornach during the Christmas period.

From Dornach to Vienna and back via Stuttgart

In addition to the lectures for workers, the work in Dornach during the September days should also include the celebration in memory of the laying of the foundation stone of the building that was lost to us only ten years ago, with a report on the Stuttgart conference [see $p. 639]. This was followed on September 22 and 23 by descriptions of the various states of consciousness in humans, sleeping and waking, and reflections on contemporary scientific works [in GA 225].

The next destination was Vienna, where the Austrian national society was to be founded. This social event was preceded by a lecture cycle for members, which is available as “Anthroposophie und das menschliche Gemüt” [in GA 223]. A lecture for physicians was also given [in CW 319]. The first public lecture took place on the 26th, the second on the 29th, with a large crowd in the main hall of the concert hall. The two lectures were published [in CW 84].

At the founding meeting of the Austrian national society, Dr. Steiner did not take the floor. It was only after his final lecture to the members that evening that he referred to the afternoon's merger of the Austrian branches into a national society (see footnote 657).

How lovingly Dr. Steiner penetrates to the essence of things and people, even when he has to say things that call for wakefulness, that do not flatter and want to win, but educate, can be seen in this address as an example.

On October 5, Dr. Steiner gave a brief report in Dornach on the Vienna Days [see p. 182], and then moved on to the lectures that have become known as the Archangel lectures [GA 229].

The following descriptions of the archangel imaginations interwoven with the annual cycle are among the most powerful impressions we have experienced through the words of Rudolf Steiner. After they were made available to every member as an addition to the newsletter on the occasion of the great festivals, they will now also be available, in response to many requests, as esoteric reflections and a beautiful festival gift under the title “Experiencing the Course of the Year in Four Cosmic Imaginations” (Oct. 5-13) [GA 229].

On October 15, Dr. Steiner also spoke in Stuttgart about the imaginative life connected with the course of the year, about the meteoric iron and the Michael festival to be renewed in the lecture on the Michael Imagination. Spiritual Milestone in the Course of the Year [in GA 229]. For Waldorf teachers, he gave two lectures: one on the comprehensive human insight as a source of imagination for educators and the other on the phenomenon of the gymnast, the rhetorician and the doctor, which arose over time within different civilizations, and their necessary synthesis for the present [in GA 302 a]. On the nineteenth of September in Dornach, he was able to begin the wonderful series of esoteric reflections on the inner connection between world phenomena and world essence, which have become known under the title 'Man as the Consonance of the Creative, Formative and Shaping World Word' [GA 230]. They were continued until November 11. In our soul's eye, the entire multiform nature arises before us in its pictorialness, its formative urge and creative urge, in the richness of its sprouting and sprouting, and dissolves into spirituality - as it is indeed in a saying by Dr. Steiner: “The spirit melts in the world's weaving, the heaviness of the earth into the light of the future.”

Conference in Holland

Establishment of the Dutch national society
End of the year in Dornach

The need for active work within the Anthroposophical Society in order to make it a reality. It is necessary to awaken to what is happening in the world, to what interests people, so that the anthroposophical movement can have an instrument in society. Anthroposophy is knocking at our hearts to bring us the true human being. The historical passage of modern civilization through the threshold to the spiritual world.

On November 12, the trip to the Netherlands took place on the occasion of the imminent founding of the local country society. As early as November 13, the cycle of five esoteric reflections “The Supernatural Man, Anthroposophically Recorded” [GA 231], one of the most important study materials, begins in The Hague. The public lectures of that time are: “Anthroposophy as a Challenge of Our Time” and ‘Anthroposophy as a Human and Personal Path of Life’ [in GA 231] as well as two lectures on education [in GA 304a]. For physicians, two lectures could again be held on ‘Anthroposophical Knowledge of Man and Medicine’ [in GA 319].

The introductory words that Dr. Steiner addressed to the members before the start of the internal lecture cycle, which refer to the warm welcome he received [see p. 663], as well as the words with which he the Hague [see $681], they are, like the entire lecture cycle, an objective with regard to what runs through the manifold reflections of 1923 as a guiding thought: We have lost the human being. How do we find him again?

Unfortunately, we have no shorthand notes or notes of the negotiations during the founding of the national society.

The report that Dr. Steiner gave about this on November 23 in Dornach contains the essentials of what he, in all the places he had wished to write in the hearts of the members at all the places where he spoke – and which, if properly received in feeling and carried through in will, should place the founding of the International Anthroposophical Society, planned for Christmas and centered in Dornach, as a living factor in the service of human evolution.

The following words were added to this report, as a transition to the actual lecture:

"Now, my dear friends, we want to use the time we have left for lectures here at the Goetheanum before Christmas Week in such a way that those members who live here in Dornach in the expectation of Christmas Week being here will be able to take with them as much as possible of what the Anthroposophical Movement is able to bring into people's hearts. So that those who will be here until Christmas will really have something to say in their thoughts, especially about what can still happen in the last hour. I will not talk about the International Anthroposophical Society, that can be done in a few hours during the meeting itself. But I will now try to structure these reflections in such a way that they can also convey something about the mood that should then be. What I have already explained here in the last few weeks, I will try to approach from a different starting point. Today I will begin by approaching an understanding of the secrets of the world through the life of the soul of man himself.

This promise was more than amply kept. After the attempt, carried out with so much self-sacrifice, to morally strengthen the membership, to awaken in them a keen sense of responsibility for the duties towards the world that arise from receiving such impulses, the spiritual generosity of From this spiritual generosity of Steiner's flowed an infinite abundance of cosmic and historical overviews, which revealed the seamless connection between the laws of nature on earth and the human soul life with the powers of the universe that are active in the supersensible. Deeper and deeper they penetrated into the secrets of a knowledge of nature that was illuminated from within. The ancient wisdom could be freely subjected to the test of the newly acquired intellectual thinking: the objective facts yield the proof of truth. These truths of a spiritual revelation that encompasses the past and the future at the same time can be sensed inwardly by the soul and inwardly felt through newly awakening powers of consciousness, as it were. Exposed to the criterion of unprejudiced science, intellectual knowledge was at the same time offered a magnificent, cosmic-historical picture of the metamorphosing ability of the human soul under the influence and wise guidance of the mystery being, which reached back into gray primeval times and led this development. The mystery centers were also subject to historical change in their development and work, to the law of flowering, maturity and decay; but the stream of life that permeated their various forms of expression continued to flow secretly into our darkened time.

These cycles must be read in the wording. Keywords taken from them could only weaken their effect, extinguish the living spirit. The “Mysteries” [GA 232] are an organic continuation of the cycle “Man as the harmony of the creative, forming and shaping world word” [GA 230] and lead to the esoteric-historical reflections that introduced the Christmas Conference: “World History in Anthroposophical Light and as a Basis for Knowledge of the Human Spirit” [GA 233].

The workers at the Goetheanum were still allowed to gain insights into the secrets of immediate nature through a course on bees given at their request. GA 351].

Retrospective

A cycle had been completed. Starting from the knowledge of external nature at the beginning of the year, Rudolf Steiner had allowed his audience to glimpse into its deep secrets and thus into the hidden foundations of the cosmos, from which nature can only be recognized. Today's mechanistic natural science has made us lose sight of the human being, who is the sum of the world's riddles. We must rediscover this supersensible human being in us, whom we have lost. He allowed the figures of the victims of a dark age, consumed in a futile spiritual struggle, to pass before our soul's eye. Their struggle was not in vain, for it is only through such vicarious struggle that the creative spirit can be forced down through the soul's prayer of action, and grace flows to mankind. Even the negative ultimately gives birth to the positive if it is selfless, if it fights out of honesty. Despair drew near the savior, who became the instrument of the descending revelation, he who possessed the perfect equipment of earthly knowledge and was willing to sacrifice his individual being to humanity in full selflessness. He did not shy away from the difficulty of this act of rescue, however weak and inadequate the human material was with which he had to work. Despite the meagreness of the talents or the weakness of the souls that confronted him, he saw the striving of the individual ego, saw the longing of the souls to rise above themselves. And he gave this soul flame spiritual nourishment so that it would grow and communicate itself to humanity, not extinguish itself. A tireless educator of humanity, he guarded this sacred fire, calling it to alert activity again and again when it threatened to fade away. Often the inert mass of matter seemed to paralyze the momentum of the soul; the power of resistance on the part of the forces dominating the outer world seemed to carry the victory. But anyone who works with the forces of the future knows that the spiritual seed, and not only the earthly seed, must first make its way through chaos and death in order to sprout. We are experiencing the chaos. Rudolf Steiner's spiritual deed looks forward to its resurrection in the future.

[ 1 ] We cannot understand Goethe's relation to the natural sciences if we confine ourselves merely to the single discoveries he made. I take as a guiding point of view for the study of this relation the words which Goethe wrote to Knebel from Italy, 18th August, 1787: “After what I have seen of plants and fishes at Naples and in Sicily I should be tempted, if I were ten years younger, to make a journey to India, not in order to discover anything new, but to observe, in my own way, what has already been discovered.” It appears to. me to be a question of the way in which Goethe coordinated the natural phenomena known to him in a view of Nature in harmony with his mode of thinking. Even if all his individual discoveries had already been made, and he had given us nothing but his view of Nature, this would not detract in the least from the importance of his Nature studies. I am of the same opinion as Du Bois-Reymond that “even without Goethe's participation, science would still be as far advanced as it is to-day” ... that “the steps attained by him would have been attained by others sooner or later.” (Goethe und kein Ende S.31.). I cannot, however, apply these words, as Du Bois-Reymond does, to the sum-total of Goethe's work in natural science. I limit them to the individual discoveries made during the course of his work. In all probability we should not be without a single one of them to-day even if Goethe had never occupied himself with botany, anatomy, and so forth. His view of Nature, however, emanated from his personality; none other could have achieved it. The single discoveries as such did not interest him. They arose of themselves during his studies, because in regard to the facts in question, views prevailed which were not reconcilable with his mode of observation. If he could have built up his views with what natural science had to offer he would never have occupied himself with detailed studies. He had to particularize because what was said to him by the investigators of Nature about the particulars did not correspond with his demands. The individual discoveries were made only accidentally, as it were, during the course of these detailed studies. For instance, the question whether man, like other animals, has an intermaxillary bone in the upper jaw-bone did not at first concern him. He was trying to discover the plan by which Nature develops the series of animals and, at its summit, Man. He wanted to find the common archetype which lies at the basis of all animal species and finally, in its highest perfection, at the basis of the human species also. The Nature investigators said: there is a difference between the structure of the animal body and that of the human body. Animals have the intermaxillary bone in the upper jaw, man has not. Goethe's view was that the human physical structure could only be distinguished from the animal by its degree of perfection, not details. For, if the latter were the case, there could not be a common archetype underlying the animal and the human organisations. He could make nothing of the assertion of the scientists, and so he sought for the intermaxillary bone in man—and found it. Something similar to this can be observed in the case of all his individual discoveries. For him they are never the end in itself; they had to be made in order to justify his ideas concerning natural phenomena.

[ 2 ] In the realms of organic Nature the important thing in Goethe's views is the conception he formed of the nature of life. It is not a question of emphasising the fact that leaf, calyx, corolla, etc., are plant-organs identical with each other and unfolding out of a common basic form. The essential point is Goethe's conception of the whole plant-nature as a living thing, and how he thought of the individual parts as proceeding from the whole. His idea of the nature of the organism is his central, most individual discovery in the realm of biology. Goethe's basic conviction was that something can be perceived in the plant and animal which is not accessible to mere sense observation. What the bodily eye can observe in the organism appears to Goethe to be merely the result of a living whole of formative laws working through one another, laws which are perceptible only to the ‘spiritual eye.’ He has described what his spiritual eye perceived in the plant and in the animal. Only those who are able to see as he did can recapture his idea of the nature of the organism; those who remain stationary at what the senses and experiments give, cannot understand him. When we read his two poems “The Metamorphosis of Plants,” and “The Metamorphosis of Animals,” it appears at first as if the words simply led us from one part of the organism to another, as if the intention was merely to unite external facts together. If, however, we permeate ourselves with what hovered before Goethe as the idea of the living being we feel ourselves transplanted into the sphere of organic Nature and the conceptions concerning the various organs develop from out of one central conception.

[ 3 ] When Goethe began to make independent reflections upon the phenomena of Nature it was the concept of life that claimed his attention above all else. In a letter from the Strasburg period, 14th July, 1770, he writes of a butterfly: “The poor creature trembles in the net, and its fairest colours are rubbed off; even if it is caught uninjured, in the end it perishes there, stiff and lifeless; the corpse is not the whole creature. Something else is required, indeed the essential part, and in this case as in every other, the most essential part: Life.” It was clear to Goethe from the beginning that an organism cannot be considered as a dead product of Nature; that something more exists within it over and above the forces which also live in inorganic Nature. When Du Bois-Reymond says that “the purely mechanical world-construction which to-day constitutes science was no less obnoxious to the princely poet of Weimar than, in earlier days, the ‘Système de la Nature’ to Friederike's friend,” he was undoubtedly right; he was no less right when he said that “Goethe would have turned away with a shudder from this world-construction which, with its primeval generation, borders on the Kant-Laplace theory; from man's emergence out of chaos as the result of the mathematically-determined play of atoms from eternity to eternity; from the icy world-end, from the pictures to which our race adheres with all the insensibility by means of which it has accustomed itself to the horrors of railway travel.” (Goethe und kein Ende. S.35. f.). Naturally Goethe would have turned away in disgust because he sought and found a higher concept of the living than that of a complicated, mathematically-determined mechanism. Only those who are incapable of grasping a higher concept of this kind and identify the living with the mechanical because they can only see the mechanical in the organism, will enthuse over the mechanical world-construction with its play of atoms, and regard without feeling the pictures which Du Bois-Reymond sketches. Those, however, who can assimilate the concept of the organic in Goethe's sense will dispute its justification as little as they dispute the existence of the mechanical. We do not dispute with those who are colour-blind concerning the world of colours. All views which represent the organic mechanically incur the judgment which Goethe puts into the mouth of Mephistopheles:

“Who would describe and study aught alive.
Seeks first the living spirit thence to drive;
Then are the lifeless fragments in his hand,
There only fails, alas! the spirit band.”

[ 4 ] The opportunity of concerning himself more intimately with plant life came to Goethe when Duke Karl August presented him with a garden (21st April, 1776). He was also stimulated by excursions in the Thuringian forest, where he could observe the living phenomena of lower organisms. Mosses and lichens claimed his attention. On October 31st he begged Frau von Stein to give him mosses of all kinds, if possible with the roots and moist, so that he could use them for observing the process of propagation. It is important to bear in mind that at the beginning of his botanical studies Goethe occupied himself with lower plant forms. He only studied the higher plants when later he was forming his idea of the archetypal plant. This was certainly not because the lower kingdom was strange to him, but because he believed that the secrets of plant-nature were more clearly manifested in the higher. His aim was to seek the idea of Nature where it revealed itself most distinctly and then to descend from the perfect to the imperfect in order to understand the latter by means of the former. He did not try to explain the complex by means of the simple, but to survey it at one glance as a creative whole, and then to explain the simple and imperfect as a one-sided development of the complex and perfect. If Nature is able, after countless plant forms, to create one more which contains them all, on perceiving this perfect form, the secret of plant formation must arise for the mind in direct perception, and then man will easily be able to apply to the imperfect what he has observed in the perfect. Nature investigators go the opposite way to work, for they regard the perfect merely as a mechanical sum-total of simple processes. They proceed from the simple and derive the perfect from it.

[ 5 ] When Goethe looked around for a scientific guide in his botanical studies he could find no other than Linnæus. We first learn of his study of Linnæus from his letters to Frau von Stein in the year 1782. The earnestness with which Goethe pursued his studies in natural science is shown by the interest he took in the writings of Linnæus. He admits that after Shakespeare and Spinoza he was influenced most strongly by Linnæus. But how little could Linnæus satisfy him! Goethe wanted to observe the different plant forms in order to know the common principle that lived in them. He tried to discover what it is that makes all these forms into plants. Linnæus was satisfied with classifying the manifold plant forms in a definite order and describing them. Here Goethe's naive, unbiased observation of Nature, in one special instance, came into contact with the scientific mode of thought that was influenced by a one-sided conception of Platonism. This mode of thought sees in the separate forms manifestations of original, co-existing Platonic Ideas, or creative thoughts. Goethe sees in the individual formation only one special form of an ideal archetypal being which lives in all forms. The aim of the former mode of thought is to distinguish the separate forms with the greatest possible exactitude in order to discern the manifoldness of the ideal forms or of the plan of creation; Goethe's aim is to explain the manifoldness of the particular from out of the original unity. That many things are present in manifold forms is clearly evident to the former mode of thought, because for it the ideal archetypes are already manifold. This is not evident to Goethe, for according to his view the many only belong together when a unity reveals itself in them. Goethe therefore says that what Linnæus “sought to hold forcibly asunder, had to strive for union, in order to satisfy the innermost need of my being.” Linnæus simply accepts the existing forms without asking how they have arisen from a basic form. “We count as many species as there are different forms that have been created in principle.” This is a basic statement. Goethe sought the active element in the plant kingdom that creates the individual through the specific modifications of the basic form.

[ 6 ] In Rousseau Goethe found a more naïve relationship to the plant world than was the case with Linnæus. He writes to Karl August, 16th June, 1782: “In Rousseau's Works one finds the most delightful letters on botany in which he gives a very clear and charming exposition of this science to a lady. It is a fine example of the way one ought to give instruction, and is a supplement to Emil. It makes me want to recommend the beautiful kingdom of flowers anew to my friends of the fair sex.” In the “History of my Botanical Studies” Goethe tells us what attracted him to Rousseau's botanical ideas: “His relation to plant lovers and connoisseurs, specially to the Duchess of Portland, may have widened his penetrating sight, and a spirit such as his, which felt called to prescribe law and order to nations, was forced to suppose that in the immeasurable kingdom of plants no such great diversity of forms could appear without a basic law, be it ever so concealed, which brings them back collectively to a Unity.” Goethe was seeking for a fundamental law which leads back the manifold to the unity from which it has originally proceeded.

[ 7 ] Two works of Freiherr von Gleichen, called “Russwurm,” came at that time to Goethe's knowledge. Both of them deal with the life of plants in a manner which proved fruitful for him; they are ‘Das Neueste aus dem Reiche der Pflanzen’ (Nürnburg, 1764), and ‘Auserlesene Mikroscopische Entdeckungen bet den Pflanzen’ (Nürnburg, 1777/1781.) These books deal with the processes of fructification in plants; pollen, stamens and pistils are minutely described and the processes of fructification presented in well-executed diagrams. Goethe himself now makes attempts to observe with his own eyes the results described by Gleichen-Russwurm. He writes to Frau von Stein, 12th Jan., 1785: “Now that Spring is approaching my microscope is set up in order to observe and check the experiments of Gleichen-Russwurm.” At the same time Goethe studied the nature of the seed, as may be gathered from an account which he gives to Knebel, 2nd April, 1785: “I have reflected on the seed substance as far as my experiences extend.” These observations of Goethe only appear in the right light when one considers that even at that time he did not stop at them, but tried to acquire a general perception of natural processes which should serve to support and strengthen them. On April 8th of the same year he tells Knebel that he is not merely observing facts, but that he has also made “fine combinations” of these facts.

[ 8 ] The share Goethe took in Lavater's great work, “Physiognomic Fragments for the furtherance of Human Knowledge and Human Love,” which appeared in the years 1775 to 1778, had a considerable influence on the development of his ideas concerning the workings of organic Nature. He himself contributed to this work, and his later mode of regarding organic Nature is already foreshadowed in the way he expresses himself in these contributions. Lavater goes no further than treating the form of the human organism as the expression of the soul. He wanted to indicate the character of soul from the forms of the body. Goethe began even then to observe the external form in itself, to study its own laws and formative force. He began at the same time to study the writings of Aristotle on physiognomy and endeavoured, on the basis of the study of the organic form, to confirm the distinction between man and the animals. He finds this in the prominence of the head which is determined by the human structure as a whole, and in the perfect development of the human brain to which all parts point as to an organ by which they are determined. In the animal, on the other hand, the head is merely appended to the spine; the brain and spinal cord comprise no more than is absolutely necessary for the execution of subordinate life-principles and sense-activities pure and simple. Goethe was already then seeking for the distinction between man and the animals, not in any one detail, but in the different degrees of perfection which the same basic form attains in one case or the other. Already there hovers before him the picture of a type which occurs both in the animal and in man, but which is developed in the former in such a way that the entire structure subserves animal functions, whereas in the latter the structure furnishes the scaffolding for the development of the spirit.

[ 9 ] Goethe's specific studies in anatomy grew out of such considerations. On Jan. 22nd, 1776, he writes to Lavater: “The Duke has sent me six skulls, and I have made some magnificent observations which are at your service if you have not already found the same things without me.” In Goethe's Diary, under the date, 15th Oct., 1781, we read that he studied Anatomy in Jena with Einsiedel, and in the same year began to enter more deeply into this science under the guidance of Loder. He speaks of this in letters to Frau von Stein, 29th Oct., and to the Duke, 4th Nov., 1781. He also had the intention of “explaining the skeleton” to the young people at the Drawing Academy, “and guiding them to a knowledge of the human body.” “I do it,” he says, “for my own sake as well as for theirs; the method I have chosen will give them this winter a real acquaintance with the basic structures of the body.” The Diary shows that these lectures were, in fact, given. During this time he also had many conversations with Loder concerning the structure of the human body. Again it is his general view of Nature which is the motive force and the real aim of these studies. He treats “the bones as a text to which all life and everything human may be appended.” (Letters to Lavater and Marck, 14th Nov., 1781.)

Goethe's mind was occupied at that time with conceptions relating to the workings of organic Nature and the connection between human and animal development. That the human form is simply the highest stage of the animal, and that man produces the moral world out of himself as a result of this more perfect stage of animal life, is an idea which is already expressed in the ode “The Divine”—written during the year 1782. “Let man be noble, helpful and good; for that alone distinguishes him from all the beings known unto us. According to laws mighty, rigid, eternal, must all we mortals complete the orbit of our existence.” [ 10 ] The “eternal, rigid laws” work in man just as they work in the rest of the world of organisms; in him alone they reach a perfection which makes it possible for him to be “noble, helpful and good.”

[ 11 ] While such ideas were establishing themselves in Goethe's being more and more firmly Herder was working at his “Ideas for a Philosophy of the History of Mankind.” All the thoughts of this book were discussed by the two men. Goethe was satisfied with Herder's comprehension of Nature; it harmonised with his own conceptions. Frau von Stein writes to Knebel, 1st May, 1784: “Herder's work makes it probable that we were first plants and animals. ... Goethe is now brooding profoundly over these things and whatever has passed through his mind becomes supremely interesting.” Goethe's words to Knebel, 8th Dec., 1783, afford the justification for arriving at his ideas from Herder's. “Herder is writing a Philosophy of History, fundamentally new, as you may well imagine. We read the first chapters together the day before yesterday—and very excellent they are.” Sentences such as the following entirely harmonise with Goethe's mode of thought: “The human race is the great coalescence of lower organic forces.” “And so we assume that man is the central creation among animals, i.e., the developed form wherein the features of all species around him are summed up superbly.” [ 12 ] The view of anatomists at that time that the tiny bone which animals have in the upper jaw, the intermaxillary bone which contains the upper incisors, is lacking in man, was of course irreconcilable with such conceptions. Sommering, one of the most noted Anatomists of the time, writes to Merck, 8th Oct., 1782: “I wish you had consulted Blumenbach on the subject of the os intermaxillane which, ceteris paribus, is the only bone which all animals possess from the apes onward, including even the orang-utan, but which is never to be found in man; with the exception of this bone there is nothing in man which cannot be attributed to the animals. I am sending you therefore the head of a hind in order to convince you that this os intermaxillane, as Blumenbach, or os incis as Campa calls it, also exists in animals which have no incisors.” That was the general view of the time. Even the famous Camper, for whom Merck and Goethe had the deepest respect, admitted it. The fact that the intermaxillary bone in man coalesces left and right with the upper jaw bone without any clear demarcation in the normally developed individual, led to this view. If the learned men were correct in this it would be impossible to affirm the existence of a common archetype for the structure of the animal and human organism; a boundary between the two forms would have to be assumed. Man would not be created according to the archetype which lies at the basis of the animal. Goethe had to remove this obstacle to his world-conception. This he succeeded in doing, in conjunction with Loder, in the Spring of 1784. Goethe proceeded according to his general principle that Nature has no secret which “she does not somewhere place openly before the eye of the attentive observer.” He found the demarcation between upper jaw and intermaxillary bone actually existing in some abnormally developed skulls. He joyfully announced his discovery to Herder and Frau von Stein (27th March). To Herder he wrote: “It should heartily please you also, for it is like the keystone to man; it is not lacking; it is there! But how?” “I have thought of it in connection with your ‘Whole’ and it will indeed be a fair link in the chain.” When Goethe sent the treatise he had written on the subject to Knebel in Nov., 1784, he indicated the significance which he attributed to this discovery in his whole world of ideas by the words: “I have refrained from pointing to the logical outcome which Herder already indicates in his ideas, that the distinction between man and the animal is not to be looked for in any single detail.” Goethe could gain confidence in his view of Nature only when the erroneous view about this fatal little bone had been rejected. He gradually found the courage to extend to all kingdoms of Nature, to her whole realm, his ideas concerning the manner in which, playing as it were with one basic form, she produces life in all its diversity. In this sense he writes to Frau von Stein in the year 1786.

[ 13 ] The book of Nature becomes more and more legible to Goethe after he has deciphered the one letter. “My long ‘spelling out’ has helped me; now at last it works, and my silent joy is inexpressible.” He writes thus to Frau von Stein, 15th May, 1785. He now regards himself capable of writing a small botanical treatise for Knebel. Their journey together to Karlsbad, in 1785, becomes a formal journey of botanical study. After their return the kingdom of fungi, mosses, lichens and algae were studied with the help of Linnæus. He informs Frau von Stein, 9th November: “I continue to read Linnæus, indeed I must, for I have no other book with me: it is the best way of reading a book conscientiously and I must cultivate the practice, for it is not easy for me to read a book to the end. This book is not compiled for reading but for repeated study, and is of the very greatest service to me because I have thought for myself on most of the points.” During these studies the basic form out of which Nature fashions all the manifold plant forms assumes separate contours in his mind, even if they are not yet quite definite. In a letter to Frau von Stein, 9th July, 1786, we find these words: “It is a perception of the form with which Nature is, as it were, always playing, and in her play producing life in its diversity.”

[ 14 ] In April and May, 1786, Goethe made microscopical observations of lower organisms which develop in infusions of different substances—plantain pulp, cactus, truffles, peppercorn, tea, beer, and so on. He carefully noted the processes which he perceived in these organisms and prepared drawings of them. It is apparent also from these notes that Goethe did not try to approach the knowledge of life through such observation of the lower and simpler organisms. It is quite apparent that he thought he could grasp the essential features of life-processes in the higher organisms just as well as in the lower. He is of the opinion that in the infusoria the same kind of law repeats itself as the eye of the mind perceives, for instance, in the dog. Observation through the microscope only yields information of processes which are, in miniature, what the unaided eye sees on a larger scale. It merely affords an enrichment of sense-experiences. The essential nature of life reveals itself to a higher kind of perception, and not to observation that merely traces to their minutest details, processes that are accessible to the senses. Goethe seeks to cognise this essential nature of life through the observation of higher plants and animals. He would undoubtedly have sought this knowledge in the same way, even if in his age the anatomy of plants and animals had advanced as far as it has to-day. If Goethe had been able to observe the cells out of which the bodies of plants and animals are built he would have asserted that these elementary organic forms reveal the same conformity to law as is to be perceived in the most complex. He would have explained the phenomena in these minute entities by means of the same ideas by which he interpreted the life-processes of higher organisms. [ 15 ] It is in Italy that Goethe first finds the thought which solves the riddle facing him in organic development and metamorphosis. On September 3rd he leaves Karlsbad for the South. In a few but significant sentences he describes in the History of my Botanical Studies the thoughts stimulated in him by the observation of the plant world up to the moment when, in Sicily, a clear conception comes to him of how it is that “a fortunate mobility and plasticity is bestowed on plant forms, together with a strong generic and specific tenacity, so that they can adapt themselves to the many conditions working upon them over the face of the earth and develop and transform themselves accordingly.” The “variability of plant forms” was revealed to him as he was crossing the Alps, in the Botanic Gardens of Padua, and in other places. “Whereas in the lower regions branches and stalks were stronger and more bounteous in sap, the buds in closer juxtaposition, and the leaves broader, the higher one got on the mountains the stalks and branches became more fragile, the buds were at greater intervals, and the leaves more lancelate. I noticed this in the case of a willow and of a gentian, and convinced myself that it was not a case of different species. So also near the Walchensee I noticed longer and thinner rushes than in the lowlands” (Italian Journey, 8th September). On October 8th, by the seashore in Venice, he finds different plants wherein the relation between the organic and its environment becomes specially clear to him. “These plants are all both robust and virile, succulent and hardy, and it is apparent that the old salt of the sandy soil, and still more the saline air, gives them this characteristic; they are swollen with juices like water-plants; they are fleshy and hardy like mountain-plants; if their edges have the tendency to form prickles, like thistles, they are exceedingly strong and highly pointed. I found such leaves on bushes; they appeared to me to resemble our harmless coltsfoot, but here they were armed with sharp weapons, the leaves like leather, as also the seed capsules and the stalk, everything very thick and succulent.” (Italian Journey). In the Botanical Gardens at Padua the thought of how all plant-forms could be developed out of one, assumes more definite shape in Goethe's mind. In November he writes to Knebel: “The little botany I know has for the first time become a pleasure to me in this land with its brighter, less sporadic vegetation. I have already made fine general observations which will subsequently be acceptable to you also.” On 25th March, 1787, there comes to him “considerable illumination regarding botanical phenomena.” He begs that “Herder may be told that he is very near to finding the archetypal plant.” Only he fears “no one will be willing to recognise the rest of the plant world therein.” On April 17th he goes to the Public Gardens “with a firm, calm determination to continue his poetical dreams.” But all of a sudden the plant-nature catches him up like a ghost. “The many plants which I was formerly only accustomed to see in pots and tubs, indeed only behind glass windows for most of the year, stand here fresh and gay under the open sky, and thus fulfilling their destiny, they become clearer to us. Amongst so many formations, some new, some familiar, the old fancy again occurred to me as to whether I could not discover among the multitude the archetypal plant. There must be such a thing: how otherwise should I recognise this or that form to be a plant if they were not all fashioned after one type?” He tries hard to distinguish the divergent forms, but his thoughts are guided ever and again to an archetype that lies at the basis of them all. Goethe starts a Botanical Diary in which he notes all his experiences and reflections on the subject of the plant world during the journey. (Goethe's Werke. Weimar Edition Bd. 17. S.273). These diary leaves show how untiringly he is occupied in seeking out specimens of plants fitted to lead him to the laws of growth and reproduction. When he thinks he is on the track of any law he first puts it into hypothetical form, in order to confirm it in the course of his further experiences. He makes careful notes of the processes of generation, of fructification, of growth. More and more it dawns upon him that the leaf is the basic organ of plants, and that the forms of all other plant organs are best understood if they are considered as transformed leaves. He writes in his Diary: “Hypothesis: all is leaf, and through this simplicity the greatest diversity becomes possible.” And on May 17th he writes to Herder: “I must further confide to you that I am very near to the secret of plant generation and organisation, and that it is the simplest thing conceivable. Under this sky the finest observations are possible. I have found clearly and indubitably the cardinal point where the germ is concealed: already I see everything else in its entirety, and only a few details have yet to become more definite. The archetypal plant is the most wonderful creation in the world, for which Nature herself should envy me. With this model, and its key, one can invent plants ad infinitum, and consequently, that is to say, plants which could exist, even if they do not exist, and are not as it were artistic or poetic shadows and fancies but have an inner truth and necessity. The same law may be applied to all else that lives. ... Forwards and backwards the plant is ever only leaf, so indissolubly united with the future germ that one cannot think of the one without the other. To grasp such a concept, to sustain it, to discover it in Nature, is a task which places us in a condition that is almost painful, despite its joy.” (Italian Journey).

[ 16 ] For an explanation of the phenomena of life Goethe takes a path entirely different from those which scientists usually travel. Investigators of Nature may be divided into two classes. There are those who advocate the existence of a life-force working in organic Nature, and this life-force represents a special, higher form of force compared with other Natural causes. Just as the forces of gravity, chemical attraction and repulsion, magnetism, and so on, exist, so there must also exist a life-force which brings about such an interaction in the substances of the organism, that it can maintain itself, grow, nourish and propagate itself. These investigators of Nature say: In the organism work the same forces as in the rest of Nature, but they do not work as in a lifeless machine. They are taken up, as it were, by the life-force and raised to a higher stage of activity. Other investigators oppose this view, believing that no special force works in the organism. They regard the phenomena of life as more highly complicated chemical and physical processes and hope that some time it will be possible to explain an organism just as it is possible to explain a machine, by reducing it to the workings of inorganic forces. The first view is described as the theory of vitalism, the second as mechanistic theory. Goethe's mode of conception differs essentially from both. It appears to him self-evident that in the organism something is active as well as the forces of inorganic Nature. He cannot admit a mechanical explanation of living phenomena. Just as little does he seek a special life-force in order to explain the activities in an organism. He is convinced that for the understanding of living processes there must be a perception of a kind other than that through which the phenomena of inorganic Nature are perceived. Those who decide in favour of the assumption of a life-force realise, it is true, that organic activities are not mechanical, but at the same time they are not able to develop in themselves that other kind of perception by means of which the organic could be understood. The conception of the life-force remains obscure and indefinite. A more recent adherent of the theory of vitalism, Gustav Bunge, thinks that “All the riddles of life are contained in the tiniest cell, and with the existing means at our disposal we have already reached the boundary line.” (Vitalismus und Mechanismus, Leipsig. 1886, S.17). One may answer, entirely in the sense of Goethe's mode of thinking: “That power of perception which only cognises the nature of inorganic phenomena has arrived at the boundary which must be crossed in order to grasp what is living.” This power of perception, however, will never find within its sphere the means adequate to explain the life of even the tiniest cell. Just as the eye is necessary for the perception of colour phenomena, so the understanding of life is dependent on the power of perceiving directly in the sensible a supersensible element. This supersensible element will always escape one who only directs his senses to organic forms. Goethe seeks to animate the sensible perception of the plant forms in a higher sense and to represent to himself the sensible form of a supersensible archetypal plant. (Geschichte meines botanischen Studiums. Kürschner Nat. Lit. Bd. 33. S.80). The Vitalist takes refuge in the empty concept of the “life-force” because he simply does not see anything that his senses cannot perceive in the organism; Goethe sees the sensible permeated by a supersensible element, in the same sense as a coloured surface is permeated by colour.

[ 17 ] The followers of the mechanistic theory hold the view that some day it will be possible to produce living substances artificially from inorganic matter. They say that not many years ago it was maintained that substances existed in the organism which could only arise through the activity of the life-force and not artificially. To-day it is already possible to produce some of the substances artificially in the laboratory. Similarly, it may one day be possible to produce a living albumen, which is the basic substance of the simplest organism, out of carbonic acid, ammonia, water and salts. The mechanists think that this will provide the irrefutable proof that life is nothing more than a combination of inorganic processes—the organism just a machine that has arisen in a natural way.

[ 18 ] From the standpoint of Goethe's world-conception it may be said that the mechanists speak of substances and forces in a way that has no justification in experience. And people have grown so accustomed to speak in this way that it becomes very difficult to maintain the clear pronouncements of experience in the face of such concepts. Let us, however, consider, without bias, a process of the external world. I/it us take a quantity of water at a definite temperature. How do we know anything about this water? We observe it, notice that it takes up space and is enclosed within definite boundaries. We put a finger or a thermometer into it and find that it has a definite degree of warmth. We press against the surface and find that it is fluid. This is what the senses tell us concerning the condition of the water. Now let us heat the water. It will boil and finally change into steam. Again one can acquire knowledge through sense-perception of the constitution of the substance, of the steam into which the water has changed. Instead of heating the water, it can be subjected to an electric current, under certain conditions. It changes into two substances, hydrogen and oxygen. We can learn about the nature of these two substances also through the senses. Thus in the corporeal world we perceive states, and observe at the same time that these states can, under certain conditions, pass over into others. The senses inform us of these states. When we speak of something else besides states which change we no longer keep to pure facts, but we add concepts to these. When it is said that the oxygen and the hydrogen which have developed out of the water as a result of the electric current were already contained in the water, but so closely united that they could not be perceived individually, a concept has been added to the perception—a concept by means of which the development of the two bodies out of the one is explained. When it is further maintained that oxygen and hydrogen are substances, as is shown by the fact that names have been given to them, again a concept has been added to what has been perceived. For, in reality, in the space occupied by the oxygen, all we can perceive is a sum of states. To these states we add, in thought, the substance to which they are supposed to belong. The substantiality of the oxygen and hydrogen that is conceived of as already existing in water is something that is added in thought to the content of perception. If we combine hydrogen and oxygen into water by a chemical process we can observe that one collection of states passes over into another. When we say: “the two simple substances have united to form a compound,” we have there attempted to give a conceptual exposition of the content of observation. The idea “substance” receives its content, not from perception but from thought. The same thing holds good with “force” as with “substance.” We see a stone fall to the earth. What is the content of perception? A sum-total of sense impressions, states, which appear at successive places. We try to explain this change in the sense-world and say: “the earth attracts the stone; it has a ‘force’ by which it draws the stone to itself.” Again our mind has added a conception to the actuality and given it a content which does not arise out of perception. We do not perceive substances and forces, but states and their transitions into each other. These changes of states are explained by adding concepts to perceptions. [ 19 ] Let us conceive of a being who could perceive oxygen and hydrogen but not water. If we combined oxygen and hydrogen into water before the eyes of such a being the states it perceived in the two substances would disappear into nothingness. If we now described the states which we perceive in water, such a being could form no idea of them. This proves that in the perceptual contents of hydrogen and oxygen there is nothing from which the perceptual content water can be derived. When one substance arises out of two or more different ones that means: Two or more perceptual contents have transformed themselves into a content which is connected with them but is absolutely new. [ 20 ] What would have been achieved if it were found possible to combine carbonic acid, ammonia, water and salt into a living albumenous substance in the laboratory? We should know that the perceptual content of many substances could combine into one perceptual content. But this latter perceptual content cannot in any sense be derived out of the former. The state of living albumen can only be observed in itself; it cannot be developed out of the states of carbonic acid, ammonia, water and salt. In the organism we have something wholly different from the inorganic constituents out of which it can be formed. The sensible contents of perception change into sensible-supersensible when the living being arises. And those who have not the power to form sensible-supersensible conceptions can as little know anything of the nature of an organism as they could experience water if the sensible perception of it were inaccessible to them.

[ 21 ] In his studies of the plant and animal world Goethe tried to conceive of germination, growth, transformations of organs, nutrition and reproduction of the organism, as sensible-supersensible processes. He perceived that this sensible-supersensible process is the same, ideally, in all plants and that it only assumes different forms in its outer manifestation. He was able to establish the same thing concerning the animal world. When man has formed in himself the idea of the sensible-supersensible archetypal plant he will find this again in all single plant-forms. Diversity arises because things, the same ideally, can exist in the perceptual world in different forms. The single organism consists of organs which can be traced back to one basic organ. The basic organ of the plant is the leaf with the nodes from which it develops. This organ assumes different forms in external appearance: cotyledon, foliage, leaf, sepal, petal, etc. “The plant may sprout, blossom, or bear fruit, but it is always the same organs which in manifold conditions and under frequently changed forms fulfil Nature's prescription.”

[ 22 ] In order to get a complete picture of the archetypal plant Goethe had to follow, in general, the forms which the basic organ passes through in the progress of the growth of the plant from germination to the ripening of the seed. In the beginning of its development the whole plant-form rests in the seed. In this the archetypal plant has assumed a form, through which it conceals, as it were, its ideal content in outward appearance.

“Simply slumbered the force in the seed; a germ of the future
Peacefully locked in itself, 'neath the integument lay,
Leaf and root and bud, still void of colour and shapeless;
Thus does the kernel, while dry, cover that motionless life.
Upward then strives it to swell, in gentle moisture confiding,
And from the night where it dwelt, straightway ascendeth to light.”

(Translation by A. E. Bowring).

[ 23 ] Out of the seed the plant develops its primary organs, the cotyledons, after it “has left behind its coverings more or less in the earth” and has established “the root in the soil.” And now, in the further course of growth, impulse follows impulse, nodes upon nodes are piled one above the other, and at each node we have a leaf.

The leaves appear in different forms, the lower still simple, the upper much indented, notched, and composed of many tiny leaves. The archetypal plant at this stage of development spreads out its sensible-supersensible content in space as external sense appearance. Goethe imagines that the leaves owe their progressive development and improvement to the light and the air. “When we find these cotyledons produced in the enclosing seed-walls, filled as it were with a crude sap, almost entirely unorganised, or at any rate only crudely organised and unformed, so do we find the leaves of those plants which grow under water more crudely organised than others that are exposed to the free air; indeed even the same plant species develops smoother and less perfect leaves if it grows in deep, moist places; whereas, on the contrary, in higher regions it produces fibrous and more finely developed leaves, provided with tiny hairs” (Goethe's Werke, Kürschner Nat. Lit. Bd. 33. S25.).

In the second epoch of growth the plant again contracts into a narrower space what was previously spread out.

“Less abundantly yielding the sap, contracting the vessels,
So that the figure 'ere long gentler effects doth disclose.
Soon and in silence is checked the growth of the vigorous branches
And the rib of the stalk fuller becometh in form.
Leafless however and quick the tenderer stem then upspringeth,
And a miraculous sight doth the observer enchant.
Ranged in a circle, in numbers that now are small, and now countless,
Gather the smaller-sized leaves, close by the side of their like,
And as the perfectest type, brilliant-hued coronals form.”

(Translation by A. E. Bowring).

[ 24 ] In the calyx the plant form draws itself together, and in the corolla again spreads itself out. The next contraction follows in the pistils and stamens, the organs of generation. In the previous periods of growth the formative force of the plant developed uniformly as the impulse to repeat the basic form. At this stage of contraction the same force distributes itself into two organs. What is separated seeks to re-unite. This happens in the process of fructification. The male pollen existing in the stamens unites with the female substance in the pistils, and the germ of a new plant arises. Goethe calls this fructification, a spiritual anastomosis, and sees in it only another form of the process which occurs in the development from one node to another. “In all bodies which we call living we observe the force to produce its like. When we perceive this force divided, we speak of the two sexes.”

The plant produces its like from node to node, for nodes and leaf are the simple form of the archetypal plant. In this form production means growth. If this reproductive force is divided among two organs we speak of two sexes. In this sense Goethe believes he has brought the concepts of growth and generation nearer to each other. At the stage of fruit-formation the plant attains its final expansion; in the seed it appears again contracted. In these six steps Nature accomplishes a cycle of plant development, and begins the whole process over again. Goethe sees in the seed only another form of the nodule which develops on the leaves. The shoots developing out of the node are complete plants which rest on a mother-plant instead of in the earth. The conception of the basic organ transforming itself stage by stage, as on a “spiritual ladder” from seed to fruit is the idea of the archetypal plant. In order to prove to sense perception, as it were, the transforming power of the basic organ, Nature, under certain conditions, at one stage allows another organ to develop instead of the one that should arise in conformity with the regular course of growth. In the double poppy, for example, petals appear in the lilace where the stamens should arise. The organ destined ideally to become a stamen has become a petal. In the organ that has a definite form in the regular course of plant development there is the possibility to assume another.

[ 25 ] As an illustration of his idea of the archetypal plant Goethe considers the bryophyllum calycinum, a plant species which was brought to Calcutta from the Molucca Islands, and thence came to Europe. Out of the notches in the fleshy leaves these plants develop fresh plantlets, which grow to complete plants after their detachment. In this process, sensibly and visibly presented, Goethe sees that ideally a whole plant slumbers in the leaf. (Goethe's Notes on Bryophyllum Calycinum. Weimar Edition, Part 2. Vol. VII.).

[ 26 ] One who develops the idea of the archetypal plant in himself, and keeps it so plastic that he can think of it in all possible forms which its content permits, can explain all formations in the plant kingdom by its help. He will understand the development of the individual plant, but he will also find that all sexes, species, and varieties are fashioned according to this archetype. Goethe developed these views in Italy and recorded them in his work entitled Versuch, die Metamorphose der Pflanzen zu erklären which appeared in 1790.

[ 27 ] In Italy Goethe also makes progress in the development of his ideas concerning the human organism. On January 20th he writes to Knebel: “As regards anatomy, I have only a very indifferent preparation, and it is not without some labour that I have succeeded in acquiring a certain knowledge of the human frame. Constant examination of the stages here leads one to a higher understanding. In our Academy of Medicine and Surgery it is merely a question of knowing the part, and for this a wretched muscle serves just as well. But in Rome the parts mean nothing unless at the same time they present a noble form. In the great hospital San Spirito they have prepared, for the sake of artists, a very beautiful body displaying the muscles, so that one marvels at its beauty. It could really pass for some flayed demi-god, for a Marsyas. Thus one does not study the skeleton as an artificially arranged mask of bones, but rather after the example of the ancients, with the ligaments by which it receives life and movement.”

After his return from Italy Goethe applied himself industriously to the pursuit of anatomical studies. He feels compelled to discover the formative laws of the animal form just as he had succeeded in doing in the case of the plant. He is convinced that the uniformity of the animal organisation is also based on a fundamental organ which can assume different forms in its external manifestation. When the idea of the basic organ is concealed the organ itself has an undeveloped appearance. Here we have the simpler organs of animals: when the idea is master of the substance, forming the substance into a perfect likeness of itself, the higher, nobler organs arise. That which is present ideally in the simpler organs manifests itself externally in the higher. Goethe did not succeed in apprehending in a single idea the law of the whole animal form as he did for the plant form. He found the formative law for one part only of this animal form—for the spinal cord and brain, with the bones enclosing these organs. He sees in the brain a higher development of the spinal cord. He regards each nerve centre of the ganglia as a brain which has remained at a lower stage (Weimar Edition, Part 2, Vol. 8.).

He explains the skull-bones enclosing the brain as transformations of the vertebrae surrounding the spinal cord. It had occurred to him previously that he must regard the posterior cranial bones (occipital, posterior and anterior sphenoid bones) as three transformed vertebrae; he maintains the same thing in regard to the anterior cranial bones, when in the year 1790 he finds in the sands of the Lido a sheep's skull, which is, by great good fortune, cracked in such a way that three vertebrae are made visible to immediate sense perception in a transformed shape in the hard palate—the upper jaw-bone, and the intermaxillary bone.

[ 28 ] In Goethe's time the anatomy of animals had not yet advanced so far that he was able to cite a living being which really has vertebrae in place of developed cranial bones, and which thus presents in sensible form that which only exists ideally in developed animals. The investigations of Karl Gegenbauer, published in the year 1872, made it possible to instance such an animal form. Primitive fish, or selachians, have cranial bones and a brain which are obviously terminal members of the vertebral column and spinal cord. According to this discovery a greater number of vertebrae than Goethe supposed, at least nine, appear to have entered into the head formation. This error in the number of vertebrae, and, in addition, the fact that in the embryonic condition the skull of higher animals shows no trace of being composed of vertebral parts but develops out of a single cartilaginous vesicle, has been adduced as evidence against the value of Goethe's idea concerning the transformation of the spinal cord and vertebrae. It is indeed admitted that the skull has originated from vertebrae, but it is denied that the cranial bones, in the form in which they appear in the higher animals, are transformed vertebrae. It is said that a complete amalgamation of vertebrae into a cartilaginous vesicle has taken place, and that in this amalgamation the original vertebral structure has entirely disappeared. The bony forms which are to be perceived in the higher animals have developed out of this cartilaginous capsule. These forms have not developed in accordance with the archetype of the vertebra, but in accordance with the tasks they have to fulfil in the developed head. So that in seeking an explanation of the forms of any cranial bone the question is not, “How has a vertebra been transformed in order to become the bones of the head?”—but “What conditions have led to this or that bony form separating out of the simple cartilaginous capsule?” It is believed that there is a development of new forms, in conformity with new formative laws, after the original vertebral form has passed over into an unorganised capsule. A contradiction between this view and Goethe's can only be found from the standpoint of “fact-fanaticism.” The vertebral structure that is no longer sensibly perceptible in the cartilaginous capsule of the skull does nevertheless exist in it ideally and re-appears as soon as the conditions for this appearance are there. In the cartilaginous skull-capsule the idea of the vertebral basic organ is concealed within matter; in the developed cranial bones it re-appears in outer manifestation.

[ 29 ] Goethe hopes that the formative laws of the other parts of the animal organism will be revealed to him in the same way as was the case with those of brain, spinal cord, and their enveloping organs. With regard to the Lido discovery he informs Herder, through Frau von Kalb, April 30th, that he “has come much closer to the animal form and its many transformations and indeed through a most curious accident.” He believes himself to be so near his goal that he wants to complete, in the very year of his discovery, a work on animal development which may be placed side by side with the “Metamorphosis of Plants” (Correspondence with Knebel, pp 98.).

During his travels in Silesia, July, 1790, Goethe pursues studies in Comparative Anatomy and begins to write an Essay On the Form of Animals (Weimar Edition, Part 2, Vol. 8, p. 261.). He did not succeed in advancing from this happy starting point to the formative laws of the whole animal form. He made many an attempt to find the Type of the animal form, but nothing analogous to the idea of the archetypal plant resulted. He compares the animals with each other, and with man, and seeks to obtain a general picture of the animal structure, according to which, as a model, Nature fashions the individual forms. This general picture of the animal type is not a living conception that is filled with a content in accordance with the basic laws of animal formation, and thus recreates, as it were, the archetypal animal of Nature. It is only a general concept that has been abstracted from the special appearances. It confirms the existence of the common element in the manifold animal forms, but it does not contain the law of animal nature.

“All the members develop according to Laws Eternal.
And the rarest of forms secretly preserves the Archetype.”

(The Metamorphosis of Animals.)

[ 30 ] Goethe could not evolve a uniform conception of how the archetype, through the transformation according to law of a basic member, develops as the many-membered archetypal form of the animal organism. The Essays on The Form of Animals and the Sketch of Comparative Anatomy proceeding from Osteology, which were written in Jena in 1795, as well as the later and more detailed work, Lectures on the first three Chapters of an Outline of a General Introduction to Comparative Anatomy, only contain indications as to how the animals are to be compared suitably in order to obtain a general scheme according to which the creative power “produces and develops organic beings,” in accordance with which these descriptions are worked out and to which the most diverse forms are to be traced back, since such a norm may be abstracted from the forms of different animals. In the case of plants, however, Goethe has shown how through successive modifications an archetype develops, according to law, to the perfect organic form.

[ 31 ] Even if Goethe could not follow the creative power of Nature in its formative and transforming impulse through the different members of the animal organism, yet he did succeed in finding single laws to which Nature adheres in the building of animal forms, laws which do indeed conform to the general norm but vary in their manifestation. He imagines that Nature has no power to change the general picture at will. If in some creature one member is developed to a high degree of perfection, this can only happen at the expense of another. The archetypal organism contains all the members that can appear in any one animal. In the single animal form one member may be developed, another only indicated; one may develop completely, another may be imperceptible to the senses. In the latter case Goethe is convinced that the elements pertaining to the general type that are not visible in an animal exist, nevertheless, in the idea. “If we behold in a creature some special excellence we have merely to question and find where something is lacking. The searching spirit will find somewhere the existence of a defect and at the same time the key to the whole of creation. Thus we can find no beast who carries a horn on its head and has perfect teeth in the upper bone of the jaw; the Eternal Mother, therefore, could never have created a lion with horns even by the exercise of all her power. For she has not enough substance to implant the full series of teeth and at the same time bring forth horns and antlers.” (Metamorphosis of the Animals.)

[ 32 ] All members are developed in the archetypal organism and maintained in equilibrium; the diversity arises because the formative force expends itself on one member and, as a result, another remains in an absolutely undeveloped state or is merely indicated in external manifestation. This law of the animal organism is called to-day the law of the correlation or compensation of organs.

[ 33 ] Goethe's conception is that the whole plant world is contained in the archetypal plant and the whole animal world in the archetypal animal, as idea. Out of this thought arises the question: How is it that in one case these definite plant or animal forms arise, and in another, others? Under what conditions does a fish develop out of the archetypal animal? under what conditions a bird? In the scientific explanation of the structure of organisms Goethe finds a mode of presentation that is distasteful to him. The adherents of this mode of conception ask in regard to each organ: What purpose does it serve in the living being in whom it occurs?—Such a question is based on the general thought that a divine Creator, or Nature, has predetermined a definite purpose in life for each being and has then bestowed upon it a structure which enables it to fulfil this purpose. In Goethe's view this is just as absurd as the question: To what end does an elastic sphere move when it is pushed by another? An explanation of the motion can only be given by discovering the law by which the sphere is set in motion through a blow or other cause. One does not ask: “What purpose is served by the motion of the sphere?” but, “Whence is the motion derived?” In Goethe's opinion one should not ask: “Why has the bull horns?” but rather: “How can he have horns?” Through what law does the archetypal animal appear in the bull as a horn-carrying form? Goethe sought for the idea of the archetypal plant and animal in order to find in them the reasons for the diversity of organic forms. The archetypal plant is the creative element in the plant world. If one wants to explain a single plant species then one must show how this creative element works in this special case. The thought that an organic being owes its form, not to the forces formatively acting in it, but to the fact that the form is imposed upon it from without for certain ends, was repulsive to Goethe. He writes: “In a pitiful, apostolically monkish declamation of the Zurich prophet I recently found this stupid sentence: ‘Everything that has life, lives through something outside of itself’—or words to that effect. Only a proselytiser of the heathen could write such a thing, and on revising it, his genius does not pluck him by the sleeve” (Italian Journey, 5th Oct., 1781). Goethe thinks of the organic being as a “little” world, a microcosm which has arisen through itself, and fashions itself according to its own laws. “The conception that a living being is produced from outside for certain extraneous ends, and that its form is determined by a purposive primeval force, has already delayed us many centuries in the philosophical consideration of Nature, and still holds us back, although individual men have vigorously attacked this mode of thought, and have shown the obstacles which it creates. It is, if one may so express it, a paltry way of thinking, which like all paltry things is trivial just because it is convenient and sufficient for human nature in general” (Weimar Edition, Part 2, Vol. 7, p.217). It is, of course, convenient to say that a Creator, when forming an organic species, has based it on a certain purposive thought, and has therefore given it a definite form. Goethe's aim, however, is not to explain Nature by the intentions of some supernatural being, but out of her inherent formative laws. An individual organic form arises because the archetypal plant or animal assumes a definite form in a special case. This form must be of such a kind that it is able to live in the conditions surrounding it. “The existence of a creature which we call fish is only possible under the condition of an element that we call water.” (Weimar Edition, Part 2, Vol. 7. p. 221). When Goethe is seeking to comprehend the formative laws which produce a definite organic form he goes back to his archetypal organism. This archetypal organism has the power to realise itself in the most manifold external forms. In order to explain a fish Goethe would investigate what formative forces the archetypal animal employs in order to produce this particular fish form from among all the forms which exist in it ideally. If the archetypal animal were to realise itself in certain conditions in a form in which it could not live it would not survive. An organic form can only maintain itself within certain conditions of life if it is adapted to them.

“Thus by the animal's form is its manner of living determined,
Likewise the manner of life worketh
back on every creature, And so the organised form firmly makes its appearance,
yet with the power to change, through outer conditions of Nature.”

(The Metamorphosis of Animals.)

[ 34 ] The organic forces surviving in a given life-element are conditioned by the nature of the element. If an organic form were to leave one life-element for another it must transform itself accordingly. This can happen in definite cases because the archetypal organism which lies at its base has the power of realising itself in countless forms. The transformation of one form into another is, however, according to Goethe's view, not to be conceived of in such a way that the external conditions immediately remould the form in accordance with their own nature, but that they become the cause through which the inner being transforms itself. Changed life-conditions provoke the organic form to transform itself in a certain way according to inner laws. The external influences work indirectly, not directly, on the living being. Countless forms of life are contained in the archetypal plant and animal ideally: those on which external influences work as stimuli come to actual existence.

[ 35 ] The conception that a plant or animal species can in the course of ages, as a result of certain conditions, be transformed into another, has its full justification in Goethe's view of Nature. Goethe's view is that the force which produces a new being through the process of procreation is simply a transformation of that force which brings about the progressive metamorphosis of organs in the course of growth. Reproduction is a “growing-beyond” the individual.

As the basic organ during growth undergoes a sequence of changes which are ideally the same, similarly, a transformation of the external form can also occur in reproduction, while the ideal archetype remains the same. If an original organic form existed, then its descendants in the course of great epochs of time could pass over through gradual transformations into the manifold forms peopling the earth at present. The thought of an actual blood-relationship uniting all organic forms flows out of Goethe's basic conceptions. He might have expressed it in its completed form immediately after he had formed his idea of the archetypal animal and plant. But he expresses himself with reserve, even indefinitely, when he alludes to this thought.

In the Essay, Versuch einer allgemeinen Vergleich-ungslehre, which was probably written shortly after the Metamorphosis of Plants, we read: “And how worthy it is of Nature that she must always employ the same means in order to produce and nourish a creature. Thus one will progress along just these paths, and just as one at first only regarded the inorganic, undetermined elements as vehicles of organised beings, so will one now progress in observation, and again regard the organised world as a union of many elements. The whole kingdom of plants, for example, will again appear to us like a great ocean, which is just as necessary to the limited existence of the insects, as the waters and rivers are to the limited existence of fishes, and we shall see that a vast number of living creatures are born and nourished in this ocean of plants; we shall, finally, again regard the whole animal world as a great element where one race maintains itself out of and through the other if not arising from it.” There is less reserve in the following sentence from Lectures on the first three Chapters of an Outline of Comparative Anatomy (1796): “We should also have come to the point where we could fearlessly maintain that all the more perfect organic beings, among which we reckon fishes, amphibia, birds, mammals, and at the summit of the last, Man, are formed according to one archetype, which only in its constituent parts inclines hither and thither and daily develops and transforms itself through procreation.” Goethe's caution regarding the thought of transformation is comprehensible. The epoch in which he elaborated his ideas was not unfamiliar with this thought. It had, however, been developed in the most confused sense. “That epoch,” writes Goethe, “was darker than one can conceive of now.” It was stated, for example, that man, if he liked, could go about comfortably on all fours, and that bears, if they remained upright for a period of time, could become human beings. The audacious Diderot ventured to make certain proposals as to how goat-footed fauns could be produced and then put into livery, to sit in pomp and distinction on the coaches of the mighty and the rich! Goethe would have nothing to do with such undue ideas. His aim was to obtain an idea of the basic laws of the living. It became clear to him here that the forms of the living are not rigid and unchangeable, but are subject to continual transformation. He had, however, no opportunity of making observations which would have enabled him to see how this transformation was accomplished in the single phenomenon. It was the investigations of Darwin and the reflections of Haeckel that first threw light on the actual relationship between the single organic forms. From the standpoint of Goethe's world-conception one can only give assent to the assertions of Darwinism in so far as they concern the actual emergence of one organic species from another. Goethe's ideas, however, penetrate more deeply into the nature of the organic world than modern Darwinism. Modern Darwinism believes that it can do without the inner impelling forces in the organism which Goethe conceives of in the sensible-supersensible image. Indeed it would even deny that Goethe was justified in arguing, from his postulates, an actual transformation of organs and organisms. Jul. Sachs rejects Goethe's thoughts by saying that he transfers “the abstraction evolved by the intellect to the object itself when he ascribes to this object a metamorphosis which, fundamentally speaking, is only accomplished in our concept.” According to this view Goethe has presumably gone no further than to reduce leaves, sepals, petals, etc., to one general concept, designating them by the name ‘leaf.’ “Of course the matter would be quite different if we could assume that the stamens were ordinary leaves in the ancestors of the plant-forms lying before us, etc.” (Sachs, History of Botany. 1875, p. 169).

This view springs from that “fact-fanaticism” which cannot see that the ideas belong just as objectively to the phenomena as the elements that are perceptible to the senses. Goethe's view is that the transformation of one organ into another can only be spoken of if both contain something in common over and above their external appearance. This is the sensible-supersensible form. The stamens of a plant-form before us can only be described as the transformed leaf of the predecessors if the same sensible-supersensible form lives in both. If that is not the case, if the stamen has developed in the particular plant-form simply in the same place in which a leaf developed in its predecessors, then no transformation has occurred, but one organ has merely appeared in the place of another. The Zoologist Oscar Schmidt asks: “What is it that is supposed to be transformed according to Goethe's views? Certainly not the archetype!” (War Goethe Darwinianer? Graz. 1871, p. 22.). Certainly the archetype is not transformed, for this is the same in all forms. But it is just because this remains the same that the external forms can be different, and yet represent, a uniform Whole. If one could not recognise the same ideal archetype in two forms developing out of each other, no relation could be assumed to exist between them. Only the conception of the ideal archetypal form can impart real meaning to the assertion that the organic forms arise by a process of transformation out of each other. Those who cannot rise to this conception remain chained within the mere facts. The laws of organic development lie in this conception. Just as Kepler's three fundamental laws make the processes in the solar system comprehensible, so can the forms of organic Nature be understood through Goethe's ideal archetypes.

[ 36 ] Kant, who denies to the human spirit the power of understanding, in the ideal sense, a Whole by which a multiplicity is determined in its appearance, calls it “a risky adventure of reason” to seek to explain the various forms of the organic world by an archetypal organism. For him man is only in a position to gather the manifold, individual phenomena into one general concept by which the intellect forms for itself a picture of the unity. This picture, however, exists only in the human mind and has nothing to do with the creative power by which the unity really causes the multiplicity to proceed out of itself. The “risky adventure of reason” consists in assuming that the Earth first allows the more simple organisms to proceed out of her womb and that these then produce from themselves forms with more deliberate purpose; that from these again, still higher forms develop, up to the most perfect living being. Kant holds that even if such a supposition is made, it can only be based on a purposive creative force, which has given evolution such an impulse that all its various members develop in accordance with some goal. Man perceives a multitude of different organisms; and since he cannot penetrate them in order to see how they themselves assume a form adapted to the life-element in which they develop, he must conceive that they are so adapted from without that they can live within these conditions. Goethe, however, claims the faculty of being able to recognise how Nature creates the particular from the whole, the outer from the inner. He is willing to undertake courageously what Kant calls the “adventure of reason” (cp. the Essay: Anschauende Urteilskraft Kürschner. Bd. 34.). If we had no other proof that Goethe regarded as justifiable the thought of a blood-relationship among all organic forms within the limits here specified, we should have to conclude it from this judgment of Kant's “adventure of reason.”

[ 37 ] A sketch, Entwurf einer Morphologie, which still exists, suggests that Goethe intended to present, in their sequence, the special forms which his archetypal plant and archetypal animal assume in the main forms of living beings. He wanted first to describe the nature of the organic as it appeared to him through his contemplation of animals and plants. Then he wanted to show how the organic archetypal being, “proceeding from a centre,” develops on the one side to the manifold plant world, on the other to the multiplicity of animal forms, and how particular forms of worms, of insects, of higher animals and the form of man can be derived from the general archetype. He intended even to shed light on physiognomy and phrenology. He made it his task to present the external form in its connection with the inner spiritual faculties. He was impelled to follow the organic formative impulse, which in the lower organisms is portrayed in a simple external appearance, in its striving to fulfil itself stage by stage in ever more perfect forms until it produces in man a form which makes him able to be the creator of spiritual production.

[ 38 ] This plan of Goethe's was never completed, any more than was another, the commencement of which is to be found in the fragment, Vorarbeiten zu einer Physiologie der Pflanzen (cp. Weimar Edition, Part 2, Vol. 6, pp. 286 ff.). Goethe tried to show how the various branches of material knowledge,—Natural History, Physics, Anatomy, Chemistry, Zöonomy and Physiology—must work together, in order to be applied in a higher mode of perception to explain the forms and processes of living beings. He wanted to bring forward a new science, a general morphology of organisms, new indeed “not in reference to its subject-matter, for this is known, but in its outlook and method, which must give an individual form to the doctrine as well as establish a place for it among other sciences.” What Anatomy, Natural History, Physics, Chemistry, Zöonomy, Physiology have to offer as the various laws of Nature, would be taken up by the living idea of the organic and placed on a higher level, just as the living being itself takes up the different processes of Nature in the cycle of its development and places them on a higher level of activity.

[ 39 ] Goethe reached the ideas which guided him through the labyrinth of living forms along paths of his own. The prevailing conceptions in regard to important regions of Nature's activity contradicted his own general world-conception. Therefore with regard to these regions he had to form for himself conceptions in accordance with his own being. He was convinced, however, that there was “nothing new under the sun,” and that one “could certainly find one's own perceptions already indicated in traditions.” For this reason he sent his work on the Metamorphosis of the Plants to learned friends, and begged them to tell him whether anything had already been written or handed down concerning the theme in question. He was glad to be told, by Friedrich August Wolf, of an “admirable precursor,” one Caspar Friedrich Wolf. Goethe became acquainted with his Theoria Generationis which had appeared in 1759. But this very work shows that it is possible to hold a correct view of the facts and yet that a man cannot come to the full idea of organic development unless he is capable of arriving at the sensible-supersensible form of life through a power of perception higher than that of the senses. Wolf was an excellent observer. He sought to discover the beginnings of life by means of microscopical investigations. He recognised transformed leaves in the calyx, corolla, pistils, stamens and seed. But he ascribed the process of transformation to a gradual decrease of the life-force, which diminishes in proportion to the length of time the plant exists, until it finally disappears. Calyx, corolla, etc., are, therefore, for him an imperfect development of the leaf. Wolf came forward as the opponent of Haller, who advanced the theory of Pre-formation or “Encasement.” According to this theory, all the members of a fully-grown organism are already represented on a small scale in the germ, and, indeed, in the same shape and mutual arrangement as in the developed living being. The development of an organism is thus simply an unfolding of what already exists. Wolf would only accept validity in what he saw with his eyes. And since the encased condition of a living being could not be discovered even by the most careful observations, he regarded development as an actually new formation. According to his view, the shape of an organic being is not yet present in the germ. Goethe is of the same opinion in reference to the external manifestation. He, too, rejects the “Encasement Theory” of Haller. For Goethe the organism is indeed pre-figured in the germ, not according to its external appearance but according to the idea. He regards the external appearance as a new formation, but reproaches Wolf with the fact that where he sees nothing with the eyes of the body, he also sees nothing with the eyes of the spirit. Wolf had no conception of the fact that something may still exist in the idea even if it does not pass into external manifestation. “Therefore he is always concerned with penetrating to the beginnings of the development of life by means of microscopical investigations and so following the organic embryos from their earliest appearance up to their development. However admirable this method may be, yet the excellent man did not think that there is a distinction between ‘seeing’ and ‘seeing,’ that the eyes of the spirit have to work in constant, living union with the eyes of the body because otherwise one may fall into the danger of seeing and yet overlooking. ... In the plant-transformation he saw the same organ continually contracting, continually diminishing, but he did not see that this contraction alternated with an expansion. He saw that it diminished in volume, but did not observe that at the same time it became more perfect, and he therefore absurdly attributed the path towards perfection to a process of impoverishment.” (Kürschner Nat. Lit. Bd. 33.).

[ 40 ] Until the very end of his life Goethe was in touch with innumerable scientific investigators, both in personal and written intercourse. He followed the progress of the science of living beings with the keenest interest; he saw with joy how modes of thought resembling his own gained entrance into this department of knowledge, and how his doctrine of metamorphosis was also recognised and made fruitful by individual investigators. In the year 1817 he began to gather his works together and to publish them in a periodical which he founded under the title, Zur Morphologie. In spite of all this, however, he made no further progress, through personal observation or reflection, in the growth of his ideas concerning organic development. On two other occasions only did he feel compelled to occupy himself more deeply with such ideas. In both cases he was attracted by scientific phenomena in which he found the confirmation of his own thoughts. The one case was the Course of Lectures held by K. F. Martius on “The Vertical and Spiral Tendency of Vegetation” at the Conference of Natural Scientists in the years 1828 and 1829, of which the periodical “Isis” published extracts; the other was a scientific dispute in the French Academy which broke out in the year 1830 between Geoffrey de Saint-Hilaire and Cuvier.

[ 41 ] Martius conceived of the growth of plants as being dominated by two tendencies by a striving in the vertical direction which governs the root and stem, and by another which causes the leaves, the organs of the blossoms and so on, to incorporate themselves into the vertical organs of the form of a spiral line. Goethe took these thoughts and brought them into connection with his idea of metamorphosis. He wrote a long essay (Kürschner Bd. 33), into which he collected all his experiences of the plant-world which appeared to him to point to the existence of these two tendencies. He believed that he had to merge these tendencies into his idea of metamorphosis. “This much we must assume: there prevails in vegetation a general spiral tendency, whereby, in union with the vertical striving of the whole structure, each formation in the plant is brought about in accordance with the laws of metamorphosis.” Goethe regarded the existence of spiral vessels in the various plant organs as a proof that the spiral tendency dominates the life of plants throughout. “Nothing is more in accordance with Nature than the fact that what she intends in the Whole she activates through the minutest detail.” “Let us in summer look at a stake planted in the soil up which a bindweed (convolvulus) climbs from below, winding its way to the heights and—clinging closely—maintains its living growth. Let us think now of the bindweed and stake as both equally living and ascending upwards from one root, producing each other alternately and so progressing unchecked. Those who can transform this picture into an inner perception will find the idea considerably easier. The twining plant seeks outside itself that which it should itself produce, but cannot.” Goethe uses the same comparison in a letter to Count Sternberg, 15th March, 1832, and adds these words: “Of course the comparison does not entirely fit, for in the beginning the creeper must wind itself round the stem in barely perceptible circles. The nearer it approaches the summit, however, the quicker must the spiral line turn in order finally (in the blossom) to collect itself in a circle on the disc. This process resembles the dances of one's youth, where half reluctantly one was often pressed in the close embrace of affectionate children. Pardon these anthropomorphisms!” Ferdinand Cohn remarks in reference to this passage: “If only Goethe had known Darwin! How pleased he would have been with this man, who through his strictly inductive methods knew how to find clear and convincing proofs for his ideas.” Darwin thinks that in nearly all plant organs he can show that in the period of their growth they have the tendency to spiral movements which he calls circummutation.

[ 42 ] In September, 1830, Goethe refers in an essay to the dispute between the two investigators, Cuvier and Geoffrey de Saint-Hilaire; in March, 1832, he continues this essay. In February and March, 1830, Cuvier, the “fact-fanatic” came forward in the French Academy in opposition to the work of Geoffrey de Saint-Hilaire, who, in Goethe's opinion, had attained to a “lofty mode of thought in conformity with the idea.” Cuvier was a master of the distinctions existing between the various organic forms. Saint-Hilaire tried to discover the analogies in these forms and to prove that the organisation of animals is “subject to a general plant only modified here and there, whence the differences can be derived.” He tried to acquire knowledge of the relationship between the laws and was convinced that the particular could develop stage by stage from the whole. Goethe regards Saint-Hilaire as a man of like mind with himself and he expresses this to Eckermann, 2nd August, 1830, in the words: “Geoffrey de Saint-Hilaire is now our ally, and with him all important followers and adherents in France. This occurrence is of inconceivable value to me and I justly rejoice at this final victory of a matter to which I have devoted my life and which is my own special concern.” Saint-Hilaire practises a mode of thought which is also that of Goethe, for he seeks to lay hold in experience of the idea of unity simultaneously with the sensible manifold. Cuvier clings to the manifold, to the particular, because in his observation of the particular the idea does not immediately arise. Saint-Hilaire had a right perception of the relation of the sensible to the idea; Cuvier had not. Therefore he describes Saint-Hilaire's all-inclusive principle as presumptive—nay even inferior. One can often experience, especially in the case of investigators of Nature, that they speak in a derogatory sense of something merely ideal, of something merely “thought.” They have no organ for the ideal, and therefore do not know its mode of working. It was because Goethe possessed this organ in a highly perfect state of development that he was led from his general world-conception to his deep insight into the nature of the living. His power of allowing the spiritual eye to work in constant living union with the eye of the body made it possible for him to behold the uniform sensible-supersensible essence which permeates organic evolution. He was also able to recognise this essence where one organ develops out of the other, and where, by its transformation, it conceals its relationship and similarity to its predecessor, even belying it, and changing, both in its function and in its form, to such a degree that no parallel, according to external characteristics, can be found with its earlier stages (cp. the essay on Joachim Jungius, Kürschner, Nat. Lit. Bd. 33.). Perception with the eye of the body imparts knowledge of the sensible and material; perception with the eye of the spirit leads to the perception of processes in human consciousness, to the observation of the world of thinking, feeling and willing; the living union of the spiritual and bodily eye makes possible the knowledge of the organic which, as a sensible-supersensible element, lies between the purely sensible and the purely spiritual.

[ 1 ] Those who struggled for clarity in the great problems of world and life conceptions at the end of the eighteenth century looked up to two men of great intellectual-spiritual power, Kant and Goethe. Another person who strove for such a clarity in the most forceful way was Johann Gottlieb Fichte. When he had become acquainted with Kant's Critique of Practical Reason, he wrote:

I am living in a new world. . . . Things I had thought could never be proven to me, for instance, the concept of absolute freedom and duty, now have been proven to me and I feel much happier because of it. It is incomprehensible what a high degree of respect for humanity, what strength this philosophy gives us; what a blessing it is for an age in which morality had been destroyed in its foundation, and in which the concept of duty had been struck from all dictionaries.

And when, on the basis of Kant's conception, he had built his own Groundwork of all Scientific Knowledge, he sent the book to Goethe with the words:

I consider you, and always have considered you, to be the representative of the purest spiritual force of feeling on the level of development that mankind has reached at the present time. To you philosophy rightly turns. Your feeling is its touchstone.

A similar attitude to both representative spirits was taken by Schiller. He writes about Kant on October 28, 1794:

I am not at all frightened by the prospect that the law of change, which shows no mercy to any human or divine work, will also destroy the form of the Kantian as well as every other philosophy. Its foundation, however, will not have to fear this destiny, for since the human race exists, and as long as there has been a reason, this philosophy has been silently acknowledged and mankind as a whole has acted in agreement with its principles.

Schiller describes Goethe's conception in a letter addressed to him on August 23, 1794:

For a long time I have, although from a considerable distance, watched the course of your spirit, and with ever increasing admiration I have observed the path you have marked out for yourself. You are seeking the necessary in nature, but you are seeking it along the most difficult road, which any spirit weaker than yours would be most careful to avoid. You take hold of nature as a whole in order to obtain light in a particular point; in the totality of nature's various types of phenomena, you seek the explanation for the individual. . . . Had you been born a Greek, or even an Italian, and from the cradle been surrounded by an exquisite nature and an idealizing art, your path would have been infinitely shortened; perhaps it would have been made entirely unnecessary. With the first perception of things you would have caught the form of the Necessary, and from your first experiences the grand style would have developed in you. But now, having been born a German, your Greek spirit having thus been cast into a northern world, you had no choice but that of becoming a northern artist yourself, or of supplying your imagination with what it is refused by reality through the help of your power of thought and thus, to produce a second Greece, as it were, from within and by means of reason.

[ 2 ] Seen from the present age, Kant and Goethe can be considered spirits in whom the evolution of world conception of modern times reveals itself as in an important moment of its development. These spirits experience intensely the enigmatic problems of existence, which have formerly, in a more preparatory stage, been latent in the substrata of the life of the soul.

[ 3 ] To illustrate the effect that Kant exerted on his age, the statements of two men who stood at the full height of their time's culture may be quoted. Jean Paul wrote to a friend in 1788:

For heaven's sake, do buy two books, Kant's Foundation for a Metaphysics of Morals and his Critique of Practical Reason. Kant is not a light of the world but a complete radiating solar system all at once.

Wilhelm von Humboldt makes the statement:

Kant undertook the greatest work that philosophical reason has perhaps ever owed to a single man. . . . Three things remain unmistakably certain if one wants to determine the fame that Kant bestowed on his nation and the benefit that he brought to speculative thinking. Some of the things he destroyed will never be raised again, some of those to which he laid the foundation will never perish; most important of all, he brought about a reform that has no equal in the whole history of human thought.

[ 4 ] This shows how Kant's contemporaries saw a revolutionary event in the development of world conception in his achievement. Kant himself considered it so important for this development that he judged its significance equal to that which Copernicus's discovery of the planetary motion holds for natural science.

[ 5 ] Various currents of philosophical development of previous times continue their effect in Kant's thinking and are transformed in his thought into questions that determine the character of his world conception. The reader who feels the characteristic traits in those of Kant's writings that are most significant for his view is aware of a special appreciation of Kant for the mathematical mode of thinking as one of these traits. Kant feels that what is known in the way mathematical thinking knows, carries the certainty of its truth in itself. The fact that man is capable of mathematics proves that he is capable of truth. Whatever else one may doubt, the truth of mathematics cannot be doubted.

[ 6 ] With this appreciation of mathematics the thought tendency of modern history of philosophy, which had put the characteristic stamp on Spinoza's realm of thoughts, appears in Kant's mind. Spinoza wants to construct his thought sequences in such a form that they develop strictly from one another as the propositions of mathematical science. Nothing but what is thought in the mode of thought of mathematics supplies the firm foundation on which, according to Spinoza, the human ego feels itself secure in the spirit of the modern age. Descartes had also thought in this way, and Spinoza had derived from him many stimulating suggestions. Out of the state of doubt he had to secure a fulcrum for a world conception for himself. In the mere passive reception of a thought into the soul, Descartes could not recognize such a support yielding force. This Greek attitude toward the world of thought is no longer possible for the man of the modern age. Within the self-conscious soul something must be found that lends its support to the thought. For Descartes, and again for Spinoza, this is supplied by the fulfillment of the postulate that the soul should deal with thought in general as it does in the mathematical mode of conception. As Descartes proceeded from his state of doubt to his conclusion, “I think, therefore I am,” and the statements connected with it, he felt secure in these operations because they seemed to him to possess the clarity that is inherent in mathematics. The same general mental conviction leads Spinoza to elaborate a world picture for himself in which everything is unfolding its effect with strict necessity like the laws of mathematics. The one divine substance, which permeates all beings of the world with the determination of mathematical law, admits the human ego only if it surrenders itself completely to this substance, if it allows its self-consciousness to be absorbed by the world consciousness of the divine substance. This mathematical disposition of mind, which is caused by a longing of the “ego” for the security it needs, leads this “ego” to a world picture in which, through its striving for security, it has lost itself, its self-dependent, firm stand on a spiritual world ground, its freedom and its hope for an eternal self-dependent existence.

[ 7 ] Leibniz's thoughts tended in the opposite direction. The human soul is, for him, the self dependent monad, strictly closed off in itself. But this monad experiences only what it contains within itself; the world order, which presents itself “from without, as it were,” is only a delusion. Behind it lies the true world, which consists only of monads, the order of which is the predetermined (pre-established) harmony that does not show itself to the outer observation. This world conception leaves its self-dependence to the human soul, the self-dependent existence in the universe, its freedom and hope for an eternal significance in the world's evolution. If, however, it means to remain consistent with its basic principle, it cannot avoid maintaining that everything known by the soul is only the soul itself, that it is incapable of going outside the self-conscious ego and that the universe cannot become revealed to the soul in its truth from without.

[ 8 ] For Descartes and for Leibniz, the convictions they had acquired in their religious education were still effective enough that they adopted them in their philosophical world pictures, thereby following motivations that were not really derived from the basic principles of their world pictures. Into Descartes's world picture there crept the conception of a spiritual world that he had obtained through religious channels. It unconsciously permeated the rigid mathematical necessity of his world order and thus he did not feel that his world picture tended to extinguish his “ego.” In Leibniz, religious impulses exerted their influence in a similar way, and it is for this reason that it escaped him that his world picture provided for no possibility to find anything except the content of the soul itself. Leibniz believed, nevertheless, that he could assume the existence of the spiritual world outside the “ego.” Spinoza, through a certain courageous trait of his personality, actually drew the consequences of his world picture. To obtain the security for this world picture on which his self-consciousness insisted, he renounced the self-dependence of this self-consciousness and found his supreme happiness in feeling himself as a part of the one divine substance.

With regard to Kant we must raise the question of how he was compelled to feel with respect to the currents of world conception, which had produced its prominent representatives in Descartes, Spinoza and Leibniz. For all soul impulses that had been at work in these three were also active in him, and in his soul these impulses effected each other and caused the riddles of world and mankind with which Kant found himself confronted. A glance at the life of the spirit in the Age of Kant informs us of the general trend of Kant's feeling with respect to these riddles. Significantly, Lessing's (1729–1781) attitude toward the questions of world conception is symptomatic of this intellectual life. Lessing sums up his credo in the words, “The transformation of revealed truths into truths of reason is absolutely necessary if the human race is to derive any help from them.” The eighteenth century has been called the century of the Enlightenment. The representative spirits of Germany understood enlightenment in the sense of Lessing's remark. Kant declared the enlightenment to be “man's departure from his self-caused bondage of mind,” and as its motto he chose the words, “Have courage to use your own mind.” Even thinkers as prominent as Lessing, however, at first had succeeded in no more than transforming rationally traditional doctrines of belief derived from the state of the “self-caused bondage of mind.” They did not penetrate to a pure rational view as Spinoza did. It was inevitable that Spinoza's doctrine, when it became known in Germany, should make a deep impression on such spirits.

Spinoza really had undertaken the task of using his own mind, but in the course of this process he had arrived at results that were entirely different from those of the German philosophers of the enlightenment. His influence had to be so much the more significant since the lines of his reasoning, constructed according to mathematical methods, carried a much greater convincing power than the current of Leibniz's philosophy, which effected the spirits of that age in the form “developed” by Wolff. From Goethe's autobiography, Poetry and Truth, we receive an idea of how this school of thought impressed deeper spirits as it reached them through the channels of Wolff's conceptions. Goethe tells of the impressions the lectures of Professor Winckler in Leipzig, given in the spirit of Wolff, had made on him.

At the beginning, I attended my classes industriously and faithfully, but the philosophy offered in no way succeeded in enlightening me. It seemed strange to me that in logic I was to tear apart, isolate and destroy, as it were, the intellectual operations I had been handling with the greatest ease since the days of my childhood, in order to gain an insight into their correct use. I thought I knew just about as much as the lecturer about the nature of things, the world and God, and on more than one occasion it seemed to me that there was a considerable hitch in the matter.

About his occupation with Spinoza's writings, however, the poet tells us, “I surrendered to this reading and, inspecting myself, I believed never to have seen the world so distinctly.”

There were, however, only a few people who could surrender to Spinoza's mode of thought as frankly as Goethe. Most readers were led into deep conflicts of world conception by this philosophy. Goethe's friend, F. H. Jacobi, is typical of them. He believed that he had to admit that reason, left to its own resources, would not lead to the doctrines of belief, but to the view at which Spinoza had arrived—that the world is ruled by eternal, necessary laws. Thus, Jacobi found himself confronted with an important decision: Either to trust his reason and abandon the doctrines of his creed or to deny reason the possibility to lead to the highest insights in order to be able to retain his belief. He chose the latter. He maintained that man possessed a direct certainty in his innermost soul, a secure belief by virtue of which he was capable of feeling the truth of the conception of a personal God, of the freedom of will and of immortality, so that these convictions were entirely independent of the insights of reason that were leaning on logical conclusions, and had no reference to these things but only to the external things of nature. In this way, Jacobi deposed the knowledge of reason to make room for a belief that satisfied the needs of the heart. Goethe who was not at all pleased by this dethronement of reason, wrote to his friend, “God has punished you with metaphysics and placed a thorn in your flesh; he has blessed me with physics. I cling to the atheist's (Spinoza's) worship of God and leave everything to you that you call, and may continue to call, religion. Your trust rests in belief in God; mine in seeing.” The philosophy of the enlightenment ended by confronting the spirits with the alternative, either to supplant the revealed truths by truths of reason in the sense of Spinoza, or to declare war on the knowledge of reason itself.

[ 9 ] Kant also found himself confronted with this choice. The attitude he took and how he made his decision is apparent from the clear account in the preface to the second edition of his Critique of Pure Reason.

Now let us assume that morality necessarily presupposes freedom (in its strictest sense) as a property of our will, pleading practical principles inherent in our reason that would be positively impossible without the presupposition of freedom. Speculative reason, however, having proven that this is not even thinkable, the former assumption, made on behalf of morality, would have to give way to the latter, whose opposite contains an obvious self-contradiction and therefore freedom, and with it morality, would have to give way to the mechanism of nature. But since, as the case lies, for the possibility of morality nothing more is required than that the idea of freedom be not contradictory in itself, and may at least be considered as thinkable without the future necessity of being understood, such that granting the freedom of a given action would not place any obstacle into the attempt of considering the same action (see in other relation) as a mechanism of nature. In this way, the doctrine of morality maintains its place . . . which could, however, not have happened if our critical philosophy had not previously enlightened us about our inevitable ignorance with respect to things in themselves, restricting all that we can know theoretically to mere phenomena. In the same way, the positive value of the critical principles of pure reason can be brought to light with regard to the concepts of God and of the simple nature of our soul, which I do, however, leave undiscussed here for the sake of brevity. I cannot even assume God, freedom and immortality for the use of practical reason if I do not at the same time deprive speculative reason of its pretensions to excessive insight. . . . I, therefore, had to suspend knowledge in order to make room for belief. . . .

We see here how Kant stands on a similar ground as Jacobi in regard to knowledge and belief.

[ 10 ] The way in which Kant had arrived at his results had led through the thought world of Hume. In Hume he had found the view that the things and events of the world in no way reveal connections of thought to the human soul, that the human mind imagined such connections only through habit while it is perceiving the things and events of the world simultaneously in space and successively in time. Kant was impressed by Hume's opinion according to which the human mind does not receive from the world what appears to it as knowledge. For Kant, the thought emerged as a possibility: What is knowledge for the human mind does not come from the reality of the world.

[ 11 ] Through Hume's arguments, Kant was, according to his own confession, awakened out of the slumber into which he had fallen in following Wolff's train of ideas. How can reason produce judgments about God, freedom and immortality if its statement about the simplest events rests on such insecure foundation? The attack that Kant now had to undertake against the knowledge of reason was much more far-reaching than that of Jacobi. He had at least left to knowledge the possibility of comprehending nature in its necessary connection. Now Kant had produced an important accomplishment in the field of natural science with his General Natural History and Theory of the Heavens, which had appeared in 1755. He was satisfied to have shown that our whole planetary system could be thought to have developed out of a ball of gas, rotating around its axis. Through strictly necessary mathematically measurable physical forces, he thought the sun and planets to have consolidated, and to have assumed the motions in which they proceed according to the teachings of Copernicus and Kepler. Kant thus believed he had proven, through a great discovery of his own, the fruitfulness of Spinoza's mode of thought, according to which everything happens with strict, mathematical necessity. He was so convinced of this fruitfulness that in the above-mentioned work he went so far as to exclaim, “Give me matter, and I will build you a universe!” The absolute certainty of all mathematical truths was so firmly established for him that he maintains in his Basic Principles of Natural Science that a science in the proper sense of the word is only one in which the application of mathematics is possible. If Hume were right, it would be out of the question to assume such a certainty for the knowledge of mathematical natural science, for, in that case, this knowledge would consist of nothing but thought habits that man had developed because he had seen the course of the world along certain lines. But there would not be the slightest guarantee that these thought habits had anything to do with the law-ordered connection of the things of the world. From his presupposition Hume draws the conclusion:

The scenes of the universe are continually shifting, and one object follows another in an uninterrupted succession, but the power of force which actuates the whole machine is entirely concealed from us and never discovers itself in any of the sensible qualities of body.

(Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding, Sec. VII, part 1.)

If we then place the world conception of Spinoza into the light of Hume's view, we must say, “In accordance with the perceived course of the processes of the world, man has formed the habit of thinking these processes in a necessary, law-ordered connection, but he is not entitled to maintain that this ‘connection’ is anything but a mere thought habit.” Now if this were the case, then it would be a mere deception of the human reason to imagine that it could, through itself, gain any insight into the nature of the world, and Hume could not be contradicted when he says about every world conception that is gained out of pure reason, “Throw it into the fire, for it is nothing but deception and illusion.”

[ 12 ] Kant could not possibly adopt this conclusion of Hume as his own. For him, the certainty of the knowledge of mathematical natural science was irrevocably established. He would not allow this certainty to be touched but was unable to deny that Hume was justified in saying that we gain all knowledge about real things only by observing them and by forming for ourselves thoughts about their connection that are based on this observation. If a law-ordered connection is inherent in things, then we must also extract this connection out of them, but what we really derive from the things is such that we know no more about it than that it has been so up to the present time. We do not know, however, whether such a connection is really so linked up with the nature of things that it cannot change in any moment. If we form for ourselves today a world conception based on our observations, events can happen tomorrow that compel us to form an entirely different one. If we received all our knowledge from things, there would be no certainty. Mathematics and natural sciences are a proof of this. That the world does not give its knowledge to the human mind was a view Kant was ready to adopt from Hume. That this knowledge does not contain certainty and truth, however, is a conclusion he was not willing to draw. Thus, Kant was confronted with the question that disturbed him deeply: How is it possible that man is in possession of true and certain knowledge and that he is, nevertheless, incapable of knowing anything of the reality of the world in itself?

Kant found an answer that saved the truth and certainty of human knowledge by sacrificing human insight into the grounds of the world. Our reason could never claim certainty about anything in a world lying spread out around us so that we would be affected by it through observation only. Therefore, our world can only be one that is constructed by ourselves: A world that lies within the limits of our minds. What is going on outside myself as a stone falls and causes a hole in the ground, I do not know. The law of this entire process is enacted within me, and it can proceed within me only in accordance with demands of my own mental organization. The nature of my mind requires that every effect should have a cause and that two times two is four. It is in accordance with this nature that the mind constructs a world for itself. No matter how the world outside ourselves might be constructed, today's world may not coincide in even a single trait with that of yesterday. This can never concern us for our mind produces its own world according to its own laws. As long as the human mind remains unchanged, it will proceed in the same way in the construction of the world. Mathematics and natural science do not contain the laws of the external world but those of our mental organization. It is, therefore, only necessary to investigate this organization if we want to know what is unconditionally true. “Reason does not derive its laws from nature but prescribes them to nature.” Kant sums up his conviction in this sentence, but the mind does not produce its inner world without an impetus or impression from without. When I perceive the color red, the perception, “red,” is, to be sure, a state, a process within me, but it is necessary for me to have an occasion to perceive “red.” There are, therefore, “things in themselves,” but we know nothing about them but the fact that they exist. Everything we observe belongs to the appearances within us. Therefore, in order to save the certainty of the mathematical and natural scientific truths, Kant has taken the whole world of observation in the human mind. In doing so, however, he has raised insurmountable barriers to the faculty of knowledge, for everything that we can know refers merely to processes within ourselves, to appearances or phenomena, not to things in themselves, as Kant expresses it. But the objects of the highest questions of reason—God, Freedom and Immortality—can never become phenomena. We see the appearances within ourselves; whether or not these have their origin in a divine being we cannot know. We can observe our own psychic conditions, but these are also only phenomena. Whether or not there is a free immortal soul behind them remains concealed to our knowledge. About the “things in themselves,” our knowledge cannot produce any statement. It cannot determine whether the ideas concerning these “things in themselves” are true or false. If they are announced to us from another direction, there is no objection to assume their existence, but a knowledge concerning them is impossible for us. There is only one access to these highest truths. This access is given in the voice of duty, which speaks within us emphatically and distinctly, “You are morally obliged to do this and that.” This “Categorical Imperative” imposes on us an obligation we are incapable of avoiding. But how could we comply with this obligation if we were not in the possession of a free will? We are, to be sure, incapable of knowledge concerning this quality of our soul, but we must believe that it is free in order to be capable of following its inner voice of duty. Concerning this freedom, we have, therefore, no certainty of knowledge as we possess it with respect to the objects of mathematics and natural science, but we have moral certainty for it instead. The observance of the categorical imperative leads to virtue. It is only through virtue that man can arrive at his destination. He becomes worthy of happiness. Without this possibility his virtue would be void of meaning and significance. In order that virtue may result from happiness, it is mandatory that a being exists who secures this happiness as an effect of virtue. This can only be an intelligent being, determining the highest value of things: God. Through the existence of virtue, its effect is guaranteed, and through this guarantee, in turn, the existence of God. Because man is a sensual being and cannot obtain perfect happiness in this imperfect world, his existence must transcend this sensual existence; that is to say, the soul must be immortal. The very thing about which we are denied possible knowledge is, therefore, magically produced by Kant out of the moral belief in the voice of duty. It was respect for the feeling of duty that restored a real world for Kant when, under the influence of Hume, the observable world withered away into a mere inner world. This respect for duty is beautifully expressed in his Critique of Practical Reason:

Duty! Thou sublime, great name that containest nothing pleasurable to bid for our favor, but demandest submission, ... proclaiming a law in the presence of which all inclinations are silenced although they may secretly offer resistance...

That the highest truths are not truths of knowledge but moral truths is what Kant considered as his discovery. Man has to renounce all insight into a supersensible world, but from his moral nature springs a compensation for this knowledge. No wonder Kant sees the highest demand on man in the unconditional surrender to duty. If it were not for duty to open a vista for him beyond the sensual world, man would be enclosed for his whole life in the world of the senses. No matter, therefore, what the sensual world demands; it has to give way before the peremptory claims of duty, and the sensual world cannot, out of its own initiative, agree with duty. Its own inclination is directed toward the agreeable, toward pleasure. These aims have to be opposed by duty in order to enable man to reach his destination. What man does for his pleasure is not virtuous; virtue is only what he does in selfless devotion to duty. Submit your desires to duty; this is the rigorous task that is taught by Kant's moral philosophy. Do not allow your will to be directed toward what satisfies you in your egotism, but so act that the principles of your action can become those of all men. In surrendering to the moral law, man attains his perfection. The belief that this moral law has its being above all other events of the world and is made real within the world by a divine being is, in Kant's opinion, true religion. It springs from the moral life. Man is to be good, not because of his belief in a God whose will demands the good; he is to be good only because of his feeling for duty. He is to believe in God, however, because duty without God would be meaningless. This is religion within the Limits of Mere Reason. It is thus that Kant entitles his book on religious world conception.

[ 13 ] The course that the development of the natural sciences took since they began to flourish has produced in many people the feeling that every element that does not carry the character of strict necessity should be eliminated from our thought picture of nature. Kant had this feeling also. In his Natural History of the Heavens, he had even outlined such a picture for a certain realm of nature that was in accordance with this feeling. In a thought picture of this kind, there is no place for the conception of the self-conscious ego that the man of the eighteenth century felt necessary. The Platonic and the Aristotelian thought could be considered as the revelation of nature in the form in which that idea was accepted in the earlier age, and as that of the human soul as well. In thought life, nature and the soul met. From the picture of nature as it seems to be demanded by modern science, nothing leads to the conception of the self-conscious soul. Kant had the feeling that the conception of nature offered nothing to him on which he could base the certainty of self-consciousness. This certainty had to be created for the modern age had presented the self-conscious ego as a fact. The possibility had to be created to acknowledge this fact, but everything that can be recognized as knowledge by our understanding is devoured by the conception of nature. Thus, Kant feels himself compelled to provide for the self-conscious ego as well as for the spiritual world connected with it, something that is not knowledge but nevertheless supplies certainty.

[ 14 ] Kant established selfless devotion to the voice of the spirit as the foundation of moral life. In the realm of virtuous action, such a devotion is not compatible with a surrender to the sensual world. There is, however, a field in which the sensual is elevated in such a way that it appears as the immediate expression of the spirit. That is the field of beauty and art. In our ordinary life we want the sensual because it excites our desire, our self-seeking interest. We desire what gives us pleasure, but it is also possible to take a selfless interest in an object. We can look at it in admiration, filled by a heavenly delight and this delight can be quite independent of the possession of the thing. Whether or not I should like to own a beautiful house that I pass has nothing to do with the “disinterested pleasure” that I may take in its beauty. If I eliminate all desire from my feeling, there may still be found as a remaining element a pleasure that is clearly and exclusively linked to the beautiful work of art. A pleasure of this kind is an “esthetic pleasure.” The beautiful is to be distinguished from the agreeable and the good. The agreeable excites my interest because it arouses my desire; the good interests me because it is to be made real by me. In confronting the beautiful I have no such interest that is connected with my person. What is it then, by means of which my selfless delight is attracted? I can be pleased by a thing only when its purpose is fulfilled, when it is so organized that it serves an end. Fitness to purpose pleases; incongruity displeases, but as I have no interest in the reality of the beautiful thing, as the mere sight of it satisfies me, it is also not necessary that the beautiful object really serves a purpose. The purpose is of no importance to me; what I demand is only the appropriateness. For this reason, Kant calls an object “beautiful” in which we perceive fitness to purpose without thinking at the same time of a definite purpose.

[ 15 ] What Kant gives in this exposition is not merely an explanation but also a justification of art. This is best seen if one remembers Kant's feeling in regard to his world conception. He expresses his feeling in profound, beautiful words:

Two things fill the heart with ever new and always increasing admiration and awe: The starred heaven above me and the moral law within me. At first, the sight of an innumerable world quantity annihilates, as it were, my importance as a living creature, which must give back to the planet that is a mere dot in the universe the matter out of which it became what it is, after having been for a short while (one does not know how) provided with the energy of life. On second consideration, however, this spectacle infinitely raises my value as an intelligent being, through my (conscious and free) personality in which the moral law reveals to me a life that is independent of the whole world of the senses, at least insofar as this can be concluded from the purpose-directed destination of my existence, which is not hemmed in by the conditions and limitations of this life but extends into the infinite.

The artist now transplants this purpose-directed destination, which, in reality, rules in the realm of the moral world, into the world of the senses. Thus, the world of art stands between the realm of the world of observation that is dominated by the eternal stern laws of necessity, which the human mind itself has previously laid into this world, and the realm of free morality in which commands of duty, as the result of a wise, divine world-order, set out direction and aim. Between both realms the artist enters with his works. Out of the realm of the real he takes his material, but he reshapes this material at the same time in such a fashion that it becomes the bearer of a purpose-directed harmony as it is found in the realm of freedom. That is to say, the human spirit feels dissatisfied both with the realms of external reality, which Kant has in mind when he speaks of the starred heaven and the innumerable things of the world, and also with the realm of moral law. Man, therefore, creates a beautiful realm of “semblance,” which combines the rigid necessity of nature with the element of a free purpose. The beautiful now is not only found in human works of art, but also in nature. There is nature-beauty as well as art-beauty. This beauty of nature is there without man's activity. It seems, therefore, as if there were observable in the world of reality, not merely the rigid law-ordered necessity, but a free wisdom-revealing activity as well. The phenomenon of the beautiful, nevertheless, does not force us to accept a conception of this kind, for what it offers is the form of a purpose-directed activity without implying also the thought of a real purpose. Furthermore, there is not only the phenomenon of integrated beauty but also that of integrated ugliness. It is, therefore, possible to assume that in the multitude of natural events, which are interconnected according to necessary laws, some happen to occur—accidentally, as it were—in which the human mind observes an analogy with man's own works of art. As it is not necessary to assume a real purpose, this element of free purpose, which appears as it were by accident, is quite sufficient for the esthetic contemplation of nature.

[ 16 ] The situation is different when we meet the entities in nature to which the purpose concept is not merely to be attributed as accidental but that carry this purpose really within themselves. There are also entities of this kind according to Kant's opinion. They are the organic beings. The necessary law-determined connections are insufficient to explain them; these, in Spinoza's world conception are considered not only necessary but sufficient, and by Kant are considered as those of the human mind itself. For an “organism is a product of nature in which everything is, at the same time, purpose, just as it is cause and also effect.” An organism, therefore, cannot be explained merely through rigid laws that operate with necessity, as is the case with inorganic nature. It is for this reason that, although Kant himself had, in his General Natural History and Theory of the Heavens, undertaken the attempt to “discuss the constitution and the mechanical origin of the entire world structure according to Newtonian principles,” he is of the opinion that a similar attempt, applied to the world of organic beings, would necessarily fail. In his Critique of Judgment, he advances the following statement:

It is, namely, absolutely certain that in following merely mechanical principles of nature we cannot even become sufficiently acquainted with organisms and their inner possibility, much less explain them. This is so certain that one can boldly say that it would be absurd for man to set out on any such attempt or to hope that at some future time a Newton could arise who would explain as much as the production of a blade of grass according to natural laws into which no purpose had brought order and direction. Such a knowledge must, on the contrary, be altogether denied to man.

Kant's view that it is the human mind itself that first projects the laws into nature that it then finds in it, is also irreconcilable with another opinion concerning a purpose-directed entity, for a purpose points to its originator through whom it was laid into such an entity, that is, to the rational originator of the world. If the human mind could explain a teleological being in the same way as an entity that is merely constituted according to natural necessity, it would also have to be capable of projecting laws of purpose out of itself into the things. Not merely would the human mind have to provide laws for the things that would be valid with regard to them insofar as they are appearances of his inner world, but it would have to be capable of prescribing their own destination to the things that are completely independent of the mind. The human mind would, therefore, have to be not merely a cognitive, but a creative, spirit; its reason would, like that of God, have to create the things.

[ 17 ] Whoever calls to mind the structure of the Kantian world conception as it has been outlined here will understand its strong effect on Kant's contemporaries and also on the time after him, for he leaves intact all of the conceptions that had formed and impressed themselves on the human mind in the course of the development of western culture. This world conception leaves God, freedom and immortality, to the religious spirit. It satisfies the need for knowledge in delineating a territory for it inside the limits of which it recognizes unconditionally certain truths. It even allows for the opinion that the human reason is justified to employ, not merely the eternal rigorous natural laws for the explanation of living beings, but the purpose concept that suggests a designed order in the world.

[ 18 ] But at what price did Kant obtain all this! He transferred all of nature into the human mind and transformed its laws into laws of this mind. He ejected the higher world order entirely from nature and placed this order on a purely moral foundation. He drew a sharp line of demarcation between the realm of the inorganic and that of the organic, explaining the former according to mechanical laws of natural necessity and the latter according to teleological ideas. Finally, he tore the realm of beauty and art completely out of its connection with the rest of reality, for the teleological form that is to be observed in the beautiful has nothing to do with real purposes. How a beautiful object comes into the world is of no importance; it is sufficient that it stimulates in us the conception of the purposeful and thereby produces our delight.

[ 19 ] Kant not only presents the view that man's knowledge is possible so far as the law-structure of this knowledge has its origin in the self-conscious soul, and the certainty concerning this soul comes out of a source that is different from the one out of which our knowledge of nature springs. He also points out that our human knowledge has to resign before nature, where it meets the living organism in which thought itself seems to reign in nature. In taking this position, Kant confesses by implication that he cannot imagine thoughts that are conceived as active in the entities of nature themselves. The recognition of such thoughts presupposes that the human soul not merely thinks, but in thinking shares the life of nature in its inner experience. If somebody discovered that thoughts are capable not merely of being received as perceptions, as is the case with the Platonic and Aristotelian ideas, but that it is possible to experience thoughts by penetrating into the entities of nature, then this would mean that again a new element had been found that could enter the picture of nature as well as the conception of the self-conscious ego. The self-conscious ego by itself does not find a place in the nature picture of modern times. If the self-conscious ego, in filling itself with thought, is not merely aware that it forms this thought, but recognizes in thought a life of which it can know, “This life can realize itself also outside myself,” then this self-conscious ego can arrive at the insight, “I hold within myself something that can also be found without.” The evolution of modern world conception thus urges man on to the step: To find the thought in the self-conscious ego that is felt to be alive. This step Kant did not take; Goethe did.

[ 20 ] In all essential points, Goethe arrived at the opposite to Kant's conception of the world. Approximately at the same time that Kant published his Critique of Pure Reason, Goethe laid down his creed in his prose hymn, Nature, in which he placed man completely into nature and in which he presented nature as bearing absolute sway, independent of man: Her own and man's lawgiver as well. Kant drew all nature into the human mind. Goethe considered everything as belonging to this nature; he fitted the human spirit into the natural world order:

Nature! We are surrounded and enveloped by her, incapable of leaving her domain, incapable of penetrating deeper into her. She draws us into the rounds of her dance, neither asking nor warning, and whirls away with us until we fall exhausted from her arms... All men are in her and she is in them... Even the most unnatural is Nature; even the clumsiest pedantry has something of her genius ... We obey her laws even when we resist them; we are working with her even when we mean to work against her... Nature is everything... She rewards and punishes, delights and tortures herself... She has placed me into life, she will also lead me out of it. I trust myself into her care. She may hold sway over me. She will not hate her work. It was not I who spoke of her. Nay, it was Nature who spoke it all, true and false. Nature is the blame for all things; hers is the merit.

This is the polar opposite to Kant's world conception. According to Kant, nature is entirely in the human spirit; according to Goethe, the human spirit is entirely in nature because nature itself is spirit. It is, therefore, easily understandable when Goethe tells us in his essay, Influence of Modern Philosophy:

Kant's Critique of Pure Reason was completely outside my world. I attended many conversations concerning this book, and with some attention I could observe that the old main question of how much our own self contributed to our spiritual existence, and how much the outside world did, was renewed. I never separated them, and when I philosophized in my own way about objects, I did so with an unconscious naiveté, really believing that I saw my opinion before my very eyes.

We need not waver in this estimate of Goethe's attitude toward Kant, in spite of the fact that Goethe uttered many a favorable judgment about the philosopher of Koenigsberg. This opposition between Kant and himself would only then have become quite clear to him if he had engaged himself in a thorough study of Kant, but this he did not do. In the above-mentioned essay he says, “It was the introductory passages that I liked; into the labyrinth itself, however, I could not venture to go; I was kept from it now by my poetic imagination, now by my common sense, and nowhere did I feel myself furthered.”

Goethe has, nevertheless, expressed his opposition distinctly on one occasion in a passage that has been published only from the papers of the residuary estate in the Weimar Goethe Edition (Weimarische Ausgabe, 2; Abteilung, Band XI, page 377). The fundamental error of Kant was, as here expressed by Goethe, that he “considers the subjective faculty of knowledge as an object and discriminates the point where the subjective and the objective meet with great penetration but not quite correctly.” Goethe just happens to be convinced that it is not only the spirit as such that speaks in the subjective human faculty of cognition, but that it is the spirit of nature that has created for itself an organ in man through which it reveals its secrets. It is not man at all who speaks about nature, but it is nature who speaks in man about itself. This is Goethe's conviction. Thus, he could say that whenever the controversy concerning Kant's world view “was brought up, I liked to take the side that gave most honor to man, and I completely agreed with all those friends who maintained with Kant that, although all our knowledge begins with experience, it nevertheless does not originate from experience.” For Goethe believed that the eternal laws according to which nature proceeds are revealed in the human spirit, but for this reason, they were not merely the subjective laws of the spirit for him, but the objective laws of the order of nature itself.

It is for this reason also that Goethe could not agree when Schiller, under the influence of Kant, erected a forbidding wall of separation between the realms of natural necessity and of freedom. Goethe expressed himself on this point in his essay, First Acquaintance with Schiller:

Schiller and some friends had absorbed the Kantian philosophy, which elevates the subject to such height while apparently narrowing it. It developed the extraordinary traits that nature had laid into his character and he, in his highest feeling of freedom and self determination, tended to be ungrateful to the great mother who had certainly not treated him stingily. Instead of considering nature as self-supporting, alive and productively spreading order and law from the lowest to the highest point, Schiller took notice of it only in the shape of a few empirical human natural inclinations.

In his essay, Influence of Modern Philosophy, Goethe points to his difference with Schiller in these words. “He preached the gospel of freedom; I was unwilling to see the rights of nature infringed upon.” There was, indeed, an element of Kant's mode of conception in Schiller, but so far as Goethe is concerned, we are right in accepting what he himself said with regard to some conversations he had with the followers of Kant. “They heard what I had to say but they could not answer me or further me in any way. More than once it happened that one or the other of them admitted to me with a surprised smile that my conception was, to be sure, analogous to that of Kant, but in a curious fashion indeed.”

[ 21 ] Goethe did not consider art and beauty as a realm that was torn out of the interconnection of reality, but as a higher stage of nature's order. At the sight of artistic creations that especially interested him during his Italian journey he wrote, “Like the highest works of nature, the lofty works of art have been produced by men according to true and natural laws. Everything that is arbitrary and merely imagined fades away before them. Here is necessity; here is God.” When the artist proceeds as the Greeks did, namely, “according to the laws that Nature herself follows,” then his works contain the same godly element that is to be found in nature itself. For Goethe, art is “a manifestation of secret natural laws.” What the artist creates are works of nature on a higher level of perfection. Art is the continuation and human completion of nature, for “as man finds himself placed at the highest point of nature, he again considers himself a whole nature and as such has again to produce a peak in himself. For this purpose he raises his own existence by penetrating himself with all perfections and virtues, produces choice, order, harmony and meaning, and finally lifts himself as far as to the production of the work of art.” Everything is nature, from the inorganic stone to the highest of man's works of art, and everything in this nature is ruled by the same “eternal, necessary and thereby divine laws,” such that “the godhead itself could not change anything about it” (Poetry and Truth, Book XVI).

[ 22 ] When, in 1811, Goethe read Jacobi's book, On Things Divine, it made him “uneasy.”

How could the book of a so warmly beloved friend, in which I was to see the thesis developed that nature conceals God, be welcome to me! My mode of world conception—purely felt, deeply-seated, inborn and practised daily as it was—had taught me inviolably to see God in Nature, Nature in God, and this to such an extent that this world view formed the basis of my entire existence. Under these circumstances, was not such a strange, one-sided and narrow-minded thesis to estrange me in spirit from this most noble man for whose heart I felt love and veneration? I did not, however, allow my painful vexation to linger with me but took refuge in my old asylum, finding my daily entertainment for several weeks in Spinoza's Ethics, and as my inner education had progressed in the meantime, to my astonishment I became aware of many things that revealed themselves to me in a new and different light and affected me with a peculiar freshness.

[ 23 ] The realm of necessity in Spinoza's sense is a realm of inner necessity for Kant. For Goethe, it is the universe itself, and man with all his thinking, feeling, willing and actions is a link in this chain of necessities. In this realm there is only one order of law, of which the natural and the moral represent only the two sides of its essence. “The sun sheds its light over those good and evil, and to the guilty as to the best, the moon and the stars shine brightly.” [ 24 ] Out of one root, out of the eternal springs of nature, Goethe has everything pour forth: The inorganic and the organic beings, and man with all the fruits of his spirit, his knowledge, his moral order and his art.

What God would just push the world from without,
And let it run in circles on his finger?
Him it behooves to move it in its core,
Be close to nature, hug her to her breast
So that what lives and weaves in him and is,
Will never lack his power and his spirit.

[ 25 ] In these words Goethe summed up his credo. Against Hailer, who had written the lines, “Into nature's sacred center, no created spirits enter,” Goethe turns with his sharpest words:

“Into nature's sacred center,”
O, Philistine past compare
“No created spirits enter”
Wished you never would remind
Me and all those of my kind
Of this shallow verbal banter.
We think we are everywhere
With every step in Nature's care.
“Happy he to whom she just
Shows her dry external crust.”
I hear that repeated these sixty years
Curse under my breath so no one hears,
And to myself I a thousand times tell:
Nature has neither core nor shell,
Everything yields she gladly and well.
Nature is at our beck and call
Nature herself is one and all.
Better search yourself once more
Whether you be crust or core.

[ 26 ] In following this world conception Goethe could also not recognize the difference between inorganic and organic nature, which Kant had ascertained in his Critique of Judgment. Goethe tended to explain living organisms according to the laws by which lifeless nature is explained. Concerning the various species in the plant world, the leading botanist of that time, Linné, states that there were as many species as there “have been created fundamentally different forms.” A botanist who holds such an opinion can only attempt to study the quality of the individual forms and to differentiate them carefully from one another. Goethe could not consent to such a view of nature. “What Linnaeus wanted with might and main to separate, I felt in the very roots of my being as striving into union.” Goethe searched for an entity that was common to all species of plants. On his Italian journey this general archetype in all plant forms becomes clearer to him step by step.

The many plants I have heretofore been used to see only in buckets and pots, here grow merrily and vigorously under the open sky, and while they thus fulfill their destination, they become clearer to us. At the sight of such a variety of new and renewed forms, my curious and favorite idea again occurred to me. Could I not discover in this crowd the archetypal plant (Urpflanze)? There really must be such a thing. How should I otherwise know that this or that given form is a plant if they had not all been designed after one model?

On another occasion Goethe expresses himself concerning this archetypal plant by saying, “It is going to become the strangest creature of the world for which nature herself shall envy me. With this model and the corresponding key, one is then capable of inventing plants to infinity, but they must be consistent in themselves, that is to say, plants that, even if they do not exist, at least could exist, and that are not merely shadows and schemes of a picturesque or poetic imagination, but have an inner truth and necessity.” As Kant, in his Natural History and Theory of the Heavens, exclaims, “Give me matter and I will build you a world out of it,” because he has gained insight into the law-determined interconnection of this world, so Goethe pronounces here that with the aid of the archetypal plant one could invent plants indefinitely that would be capable of existence because one would be in possession of the law of their origin and their development. What Kant was ready to acknowledge only for inorganic nature, that is, that its phenomena can be understood according to necessary laws, Goethe extends also to the world of organisms. In the letter in which he tells Herder about his discovery of the archetypal plant, he adds, “The same law will be applicable to all other living beings,” and Goethe applies it, indeed. In 1795, his persevering studies of the animal world led him to “feel free to maintain boldly that all perfect organic beings, among which we see fishes, amphibia, birds, mammals, and at the top of the ladder, man, were formed after one model, which in its constant parts only varies in one or another direction and still develops and transforms daily through propagation.”

In his conception of nature as well, therefore, Goethe stands in full opposition to Kant. Kant had called it a risky “adventure of reason,” should reason attempt to explain the living with regard to its origin. He considered the human faculty of cognition as unfit for such an explanation.

It is of infinite importance for reason not to eliminate the mechanism of nature in its productions, and not to pass by this idea in their explanation because without it no insight into the nature of things can be obtained. Even if it is admitted to us that the highest architect has created the forms of nature as they have been forever, or predetermined those that form according to the same model in the course of their development, our knowledge of nature would thereby nevertheless not be furthered in the slightest degree because we do not know at all the mode of action and the ideas of this being that are to contain the principles of the possibility of the natural beings and therefore cannot explain nature by means of them from above.

Against Kantian arguments of this kind, Goethe answers:

If, in the moral realm through faith in God, virtue and immortality, we are to lift ourselves into the higher region and to approach the first Being, we should be in the same situation in the intellectual field, so that we, through the contemplation of an ever creative nature, should make ourselves worthy of a spiritual participation in its productions. As I had at first unconsciously and, following an inner instinct, insisted upon and relentlessly striven toward the archetypal, the typical, as I had even succeeded in constructing an appropriate picture, there was now nothing to keep me from courageously risking the adventure of reason, as the old man from Koenigsberg himself calls it.

[ 27 ] In his archetypal plant, Goethe had seized upon an idea “with which one can ... invent plants to infinity, but they must be consistent, that is to say, even if they do not exist, nevertheless they could exist and are not merely shadows and schemes of a picturesque or poetic imagination but have an inner truth and necessity.” Thus, Goethe shows that he is about to find not merely the perceptible idea, the idea that is thought, in the self-conscious ego, but the living idea. The self-conscious ego experiences a realm in itself that manifests itself as both self-contained and at the same time appertaining to the external world, because the forms of the latter prove to be moulded after the models of the creative powers. With this step the self-conscious ego can appear as a real being. Goethe has developed a conception through which the self-conscious ego can feel itself enlivened because it feels itself in union with the creative entities of nature. The world conception of modern times attempted to master the riddle of the self-conscious ego; Goethe plants the living idea into this ego, and with this force of life pulsating in it, it proves to be a life-saturated reality. The Greek idea is akin to the picture; it is contemplated like a picture. The idea of modern times must be akin to life, to the living being; it is inwardly experienced. Goethe was aware of the fact that there is such an inward experience of the idea. In the self-conscious ego he perceived the breath of the living idea.

[ 28 ] Goethe says of Kant's Critique of Judgment that he “owed a most happy period of his life to this book.” “The great leading thoughts of this work were quite analogous to my previous creations, actions and thinking. The inner life of art and nature, the unfolding of the activity in both cases from within, was distinctly expressed in this book.” Yet, this statement of Goethe must not deceive us concerning his opposition to Kant, for in the essay in which it occurs, we also read, “Passionately stimulated, I proceeded on my own paths so much the quicker because I, myself, did not know where they led, and because I found little resonance with the Kantians for what I had conquered for myself and for the methods in which I had arrived at my results. For I expressed what had been stirred up in me and not what I had read.”

[ 29 ] A strictly unitary (monastic) world conception is peculiar to Goethe. He sets out to gain one viewpoint from which the whole universe reveals its law structure—“from the brick that falls from the roof to the brilliant flash of inspiration that dawns on you and that you convey.” For “all effects of whatever kind they may be that we observe in experience are interconnected in the most continuous fashion and flow into one another.”

A brick is loosened from a roof. We ordinarily call this accidental. It hits the shoulder of a passerby, one would say mechanically, but not completely mechanically; it follows the laws of gravity and so its effect is physical. The torn vessels of living tissue immediately cease to function; at the same moment, the fluids act chemically, their elementary qualities emerge. But the disturbed organic life resists just as quickly and tries to restore itself. In the meantime, the whole human being is more or less unconscious and psychically shattered. Upon regaining consciousness the person feels ethically deeply hurt, deploring the interrupted activity of whatever kind it might have been, for man will only reluctantly yield to patience. Religiously, however, it will be easy for him to ascribe this incident to Providence, to consider it a prevention against a greater evil, as a preparation for a good of a higher order. This may be sufficient for the patient, but the recovered man arises genially, trusts in God and in himself and feels himself saved. He may well seize upon the accidental and turn it to his own advantage, thus beginning a new and eternally fresh cycle of life.

Thus, with the example of a fallen brick Goethe illustrates the interconnection of all kinds of natural effects. It would be an explanation in Goethe's sense if one could also derive their strictly law-determined interconnection out of one root.

[ 30 ] Kant and Goethe appear as two spiritual antipodes at the most significant moment in the history of modern world conception, and the attitude of those who were interested in the highest questions was fundamentally different toward them. Kant constructed his world conception with all the technical means of a strict school philosophy; Goethe philosophized naively, depending trustfully on his healthy nature. For this reason, Fichte, as mentioned above, believed that in Goethe he could only turn “to the representative of the purest spirituality of Feeling as it appears on the stage of humanity that has been reached at the present time.” But he had the opinion of Kant “that no human mind can advance further than to the limit at which Kant had stood, especially in his Critique of Judgment.” Whoever penetrates into the world conception of Goethe, however, which is presented in the cloak of naiveté, will, nevertheless, find a firm foundation that can be expressed in the form of clear ideas. Goethe himself did not raise this foundation into the full light of consciousness. For this reason, his mode of conception finds entrance only slowly into the evolution of philosophy, and at the beginning of the nineteenth century it is Kant's position with which the spirits first attempt to come to clarity and with whom they begin to settle their account.

[ 31 ] No matter how great Kant's influence was, his contemporaries could not help feeling that their deeper need for knowledge could not become satisfied by him. Such a demand for enlightenment urgently seeks after a unitary world conception as it is given in Goethe's case. With Kant, the individual realms of existence are standing side by side without transition. For this reason, Fichte, in spite of his unconditional veneration for Kant, could not conceal from himself the fact “that Kant had only hinted at the truth, but had neither presented nor proved it.” And further:

This wonderful, unique man had either a divination for the truth without being aware of the reasons for it, or he estimated his contemporaries as insufficient to have these reasons conveyed to them, or, again, he was reluctant during his lifetime to attract the superhuman veneration that sooner or later would have been bestowed upon him. No one has understood him as yet, and nobody will succeed in doing so who does not arrive at Kant's results in following his own ways; when it does happen, the world really will be astonished.

But I know just as certainly that Kant had such a system in mind, that all statements that he actually did express are fragments and results of this system, and have meaning and consistence only under this presupposition.

For, if this were not the case, Fichte would “be more inclined to consider the Critique of Pure Reason the product of the strangest accident than as the work of a mind.”

[ 32 ] Other contemporaries also judged Kant's world of ideas to be insufficient. Lichtenberg, one of the most brilliant and at the same time most independent minds of the second half of the eighteenth century, who appreciated Kant, nevertheless could not suppress significant objections to his philosophy. On the one hand he says, “What does it mean to think in Kant's spirit? I believe it means to find the relation of our being, whatever that may be, toward the things we call external, that is to say, to define the relation of the subjective to the objective. This, to be sure, has always been the aim of all thorough natural scientists, but it is questionable if they ever proceeded so truly philosophically as did Herr Kant. What is and must be subjective was taken as objective.”

On the other hand, however, Lichtenberg observes, “Should it really be an established fact that our reason cannot know anything about the supersensible? Should it not be possible for us to weave our ideas of God and immortality to as much purpose as the spider weaves his net to catch flies? In other words, should there not be beings who admire us because of our ideas of God and immortality just as we admire the spider and silkworm?”

One could, however, raise a much more significant objection. If it is correct that the law of human reason refers only to the inner worlds of the mind, how do we then manage even to speak of things outside ourselves at all? In that case, we should have to be completely caught in the cobweb of our inner world. An objection of this kind is raised by G. E. Schulze (1761–1833) in his book, Aenesidemus, which appeared anonymously in 1792. In it he maintains that all our knowledge is nothing but mere conceptions and we could in no way go beyond the world of our inner thought pictures. Kant's moral truths are also finally refuted with this step, for if not even the possibility to go beyond the inner world is thinkable, then it is also impossible that a moral voice could lead us into such a world that is impossible to think. In this way, a new doubt with regard to all truths develops out of Kant's view, and the philosophy of criticism is turned into scepticism.

One of the most consistent followers of scepticism is S. Maimon (1753–1800), who, from 1790 on, wrote several books that were under the influence of Kant and Schulze. In them he defended with complete determination the view that, because of the very nature of our cognitive faculty, we are not permitted to speak of the existence of external objects. Another disciple of Kant, Jacob Sigismund Beck, went even so far as to maintain that Kant himself had really not assumed things outside ourselves and that it was nothing but a misunderstanding if such a conception was ascribed to him.

[ 33 ] One thing is certain; Kant offered his contemporaries innumerable points for attack and interpretations. Precisely through his unclarities and contradictions, he became the father of the classical German world conceptions of Fichte, Schelling, Schopenhauer, Hegel, Herbart and Schleiermacher. His unclarities became new questions for them. No matter how he endeavored to limit knowledge in order to make place for belief, the human spirit can confess to be satisfied in the true sense of the word only through knowledge, through cognition. So it came to pass that Kant's successors strove to restore knowledge to its full rights again, that they attempted to settle through knowledge the highest needs of man.

Johann Gottlieb Fichte (1762–1814) seemed to be chosen by nature to continue Kant's work in this direction. Fichte confessed, “The love of knowledge and especially speculative knowledge, when it has laid hold on man, occupies him to such an extent that no other wish is left in him but that to pursue it with complete calm and concentration.” Fichte can be called an enthusiast of world conception. Through this enthusiasm he must have laid a charm on his contemporaries and especially on his students. Forberg, who was one of his disciples, tells us:

In his public addresses his speech rushes powerfully on like a thunderstorm that unloads its fire in individual strokes of lightning; he lifts the soul up; he means to produce not only good men but great men; his eye is stern; his step bold; through his philosophy he intends to lead the spirit of the age; his imagination is not flowery, but strong and powerful; his pictures are not graceful but bold and great. He penetrates into the innermost depths of his object and he moves in the realm of concepts with an ease that betrays that he not only lives in this invisible land, but rules there.

The most outstanding trait in Fichte's personality is the grand, serious style of his life conception. He measures everything by the highest standards. In describing the calling of the writer, for instance, he says:

The idea itself must speak, not the writer. All his arbitrary traits, his whole individuality, all the manner and art peculiar to himself must have died in his utterances so that the manner and art of his idea alone may live, the highest life it can obtain in this language and this age. Since he is free from the obligations of the oral teacher, he is also free to conform to the-receptivity of others without their excuses. He has not a given reader in mind but postulates the one who reads him, laying down the law as to how he must do so.

But the work of the writer is a work for eternity. Let future ages swing up to a higher level in the science he has deposited in his work. What he has laid down in his book is not only the science, but the definite and perfect character of an age in regard to this science, and this will retain its interest as long as there are human beings in this world. Independent of all vicissitude, his writing speaks in all ages to all men who are capable of bringing his letters to life and who are stirred by his message, elevated and ennobled until the end of the world.

A man speaks in these words who is aware of his call as a spiritual leader of his age, and who seriously means what he says in the preface to his Doctrine of Science: “My person is of no importance at all, but Truth is of all importance for ‘I am a priest of Truth’.” We can understand that a man who, like him, lives “in the Kingdom of Truth” does not merely mean to guide others to an understanding, but that he intended to force them to it. Thus, he could give one of his writings the title, A Radiantly Clear Report to the Larger Public Concerning the Real Essence of the Newest Philosophy. An Attempt to Force the Readers to Understand. Fichte is a personality who believes that, in order to walk life's course, he has no need of the real world and its facts; rather, he keeps his eyes riveted on the world of idea. He holds those in low esteem who do not understand such an idealistic attitude of spirit.

While in the narrow horizon that is given through ordinary experience, people think and judge more objectively and correctly than perhaps ever before, most are, nevertheless, completely confused and dazzled as soon as they are to go even one step further. Where it is impossible to rekindle the once extinguished spark of the higher genius, one has to leave them within the circle of their horizon and, insofar as they are useful and necessary in this circle, one can grant them their value in and for it without curtailment. But when they now demand of us to bring down to their level everything they, themselves, cannot reach up to, when they, for instance, demand that everything printed should be useful as a cookbook, or as a textbook of arithmetic, or as a book of general regulations and orders, and then decry everything that cannot be used in such a fashion, then they are very wrong indeed.

We know as well, and possibly better than they, that ideals cannot be presented in the real world. What we maintain, however, is that the reality has to be judged by them, to be modified through those who feel the necessary strength for it within themselves. Suppose they could not convince themselves of this necessity. Then they would lose very little of what they are by nature anyway, and humanity would lose nothing at all. Their decision would merely make clear that they alone are not counted on in the scheme of providence for mankind's perfection. Providence will doubtless continue to pursue its course; we commend those people, however, to the care of a kind nature, to supply them in due time with rain and sunshine, with wholesome food and an undisturbed circulation of their gastric juices, at the same time endowing them with clever thoughts!

Fichte wrote these words in the preface to the publication of the lectures in which he had spoken to the students of Jena on the Destination of the Scholar. Views like those of Fichte have their origin in a great energy of the soul, giving sureness for knowledge of world and life. Fichte had blunt words for all those who did not feel the strength in themselves for such a sureness. When the philosopher, Reinhold, ventured the statement that the inner voice of man could also be in error, Fichte replied, “You say the philosopher should entertain the thought that he, as an individual, could also be mistaken and that he, therefore, could and should learn from others. Do you know whose thought mood you are describing with these words? That of a man who has never in his whole life been really convinced of something.” [ 34 ] To this vigorous personality, whose eyes were entirely directed to the inner life, it was repugnant to search anywhere else for a world conception, the highest aim man can obtain, except in his inner life. “All culture should be the exercise of all faculties toward the one purpose of complete freedom, that is to say, of the complete independence from everything that is not we, ourselves, our pure Self (reason, moral law), for only this is ours. . . .”

This is Fichte's judgment in his Contributions Toward the Corrections of the Public Judgments Concerning the French Revolution, which appeared in 1793. Should not the most valuable energy in man, his power of knowledge, be directed toward this one purpose of complete independence from everything that is not we, ourselves? Could we ever arrive at a complete independence if we were dependent in our world conception on any kind of being? If it had been predetermined by such a being outside ourselves of what nature our soul and our duties are, and that we thereby procured a knowledge afterwards out of such an accomplished fact? If we are independent, then we must be independent also with regard to the knowledge of truth. If we receive something that has come into existence without our help, then we are dependent on this something. For this reason, we cannot receive the highest truths. We must create them, they must come into being through us. Thus, Fichte can only place something at the summit of his world conception that obtains its existence through ourselves. When we say about a thing of the external world, “It is,” we are doing so because we perceive it. We know that we are recognizing the existence of another being. What this other being is does not depend on us. We can know its qualities only when we direct our faculty of perception toward it. We should never know what “red,” “warm,” “cold” is, if we did not know it through perception. We cannot add anything to these qualities of the thing, nor can we subtract anything from them. We say, “They are.” What they are is what they tell us. This is entirely different in regard to our own existence. Man does not say to himself, “It is,” but, “I am.” He says, thereby, not only that he is, but also what he is, namely, an “I.” Only another being could say concerning me, “It is.” This is, in fact, what another being would have to say, for even in the case that this other being should have created me, it could not say concerning my existence, “I am.” The statement, “I am,” loses all meaning if it is not uttered by the being itself that speaks about its own existence. There is, therefore, nothing in the world that can address me as “I” except myself. This recognition of myself as an “I,” therefore, must be my own original action. No being outside myself can have influence on this.

[ 35 ] At this point Fichte found something with respect to which he saw himself completely independent of every “foreign” entity. A God could create me, but he would have to leave it to myself to recognize myself as an “I.” I give my ego-consciousness to myself. In this way, Fichte obtained a firm point for his world conception, something in which there is certainty. How do matters stand now concerning the existence of other beings? l ascribe this existence to them, but to do so I have not the same right as with myself. They must become part of my “I” if I am to recognize an existence in them with the same right, and they do become a part of myself as I perceive them, for as soon as this is the case, they are there for me. What I can say is only, my “self” feels “red,” my “self' feels “warm.” Just as truly as I ascribe to myself an existence, I can also ascribe it to my feeling, to my sensation. Therefore, if I understand myself rightly, I can only say, I am, and I myself ascribe existence also to an external world.

[ 36 ] For Fichte, the external world lost its independent existence in this way: It has an existence that is only ascribed to it by the ego, projected by the ego's imagination. In his endeavor to give to his own “self” the highest possible independence, Fichte deprived the outer world of all self-dependence. Now, where such an independent external world is not supposed to exist, it is also quite understandable if the interest in a knowledge concerning this external world ceases. Thereby, the interest in what is properly called knowledge is altogether extinguished, for the ego learns nothing through its knowledge but what it produces for itself. In all such knowledge the human ego holds soliloquies, as it were, with itself. It does not transcend its own being. It can do so only through what can be called living action. When the ego acts, when it accomplishes something in the world, then it is no longer alone by itself, talking to itself. Then its actions flow out into the world. They obtain a self-dependent existence. I accomplish something and when I have done so, this something will continue to have its effect, even if I no longer participate in its action. What I know has being only through myself, what I do, is part and parcel of a moral world order independent of myself. But what does all certainty that we derive from our own ego mean compared to this highest truth of a moral world order, which must surely be independent of ourselves if existence is to have any significance at all? All knowledge is something only for the ego, but this world order must be something outside the ego. It must be, in spite of the fact that we cannot know anything of it. We must, therefore, believe it.

In this manner Fichte also goes beyond knowledge and arrives at a belief. Compared to this belief, all knowledge is as dream to reality. The ego itself has only such a dream existence as long as it contemplates itself. It makes itself a picture of itself, which does not have to be anything but a passing picture; it is action alone that remains. Fichte describes this dream life of the world with significant words in his Vocation of Man:

There is nowhere anything permanent, neither within myself nor outside, but there is only a never ceasing change. Nowhere do I know of any being, not even of my own being. I, myself, do not know at all, and I am not. Pictures are; they are the only thing that is, and they know of themselves after the fashion of pictures; hovering pictures that pass by, without anything that they pass: interconnected through pictures of pictures, pictures without anything that is depicted in them, without meaning and purpose. I, myself, am one of these pictures; in fact, I am not even that but only a confused picture of pictures. All reality is changed into a strange dream without a life of which to dream, without a spirit to do the dreaming; it changes into a dream, which is held together by a dream of itself. Seeing—this is the dream; thinking—the source of all beings, of all reality, which I imagine, of my being, my strength of my purposes. This is the dream of that dream.

In what a different light the moral world order, the world of belief, appears to Fichte:

My will is to exert its effect absolutely through itself, without any tool that would only weaken its expression, in a completely homogeneous sphere, as reason upon reason, as spirit upon what is also spirit; in a sphere to which, however, my will is not to give the law of life, of activity, of progression, but which contains this in itself. My will, then, is to exert itself upon self-active reason, but self-active reason is will. The law of the supersensible world accordingly would be a will. . . . This sublime will, therefore, does not pursue its course separated from the rest of the world of reason in a detached fashion. There is a spiritual bond between the sublime will and all finite rational beings, and the sublime will itself is this spiritual bond within the world of reason. . . . I hide my face before you and I lay my hands on my lips. What you are for yourself and how you appear to yourself, I can never know as surely as I can never become you. After having lived through a thousand spirit worlds a thousand times, I shall be able to understand you as little as now in this house of clay. What I understand becomes finite merely through my understanding it, and the finite can never be changed into the infinite, not even through an infinite growth and elevation. You are separated from the finite not by a difference in degree but in kind. Through that gradation they will make you into a greater and greater man, but never into God, into the infinite that is capable of no measure.

[ 37 ] Because knowledge is a dream and the moral world order is the only true reality for Fichte, he places the life through which man participates in the moral world order higher than knowledge, the contemplation of things. “Nothing,” so Fichte maintains, “has unconditional value and significance except life; everything else, for instance thinking, poetic imagination and knowledge, has value only insofar as it refers in some way to the living, insofar as it proceeds from it or means to turn back into it.”

[ 38 ] This is the fundamental ethical trait in Fichte's personality, which extinguished or reduced in significance everything in his world conception that does not directly tend toward the moral destination of man. He meant to establish the highest, the purest aims and standards for life, and for this purpose he refused to be distracted by any process of knowledge that might discover contradictions with the natural world order in these aims. Goethe made the statement, “The active person is always without conscience; no one has conscience except the onlooker.” He means to say that the contemplative man estimates everything in its true, real value, understanding and recognizing everything in its own proper place. The active man, however, is, above everything else, bent on seeing his demands fulfilled; he is not concerned with the question of whether or not he thereby encroaches upon the rights of things. Fichte was, above all, concerned with action; he was, however, unwilling to be charged by contemplation with lack of conscience. He, therefore, denied the value of contemplation.

[ 39 ] To effect life immediately—this was Fichte's continuous endeavor. He felt most satisfied when he believed that his words could become action in others. It is under the influence of this ardent desire that he composed the following works. Demand to the Princess of Europe to Return the Freedom of Thought, Which They Have Heretofore Suppressed. Heliopolis in the Last Year of the Old Darkness 1792; Contributions Toward the Correction of the Public Judgment Concerning the French Revolution 1793. This ardent desire also caused him to give his powerful speeches, Outline of the Present Age Presented in Lectures in Berlin in 1804–5; Direction Toward the Beatific Life or Doctrine of Religion, Lectures given in Berlin in 1806; finally, his Speeches to the German Nation, 1808.

[ 40 ] Unconditional surrender to the moral world order, action that springs out of the deepest core of man's nature: These are the demands through which life obtains value and meaning. This view runs through all of Fichte's speeches and writings as the basic theme. In his Outline of the Present Age, he reprimands this age with flaming words for its egotism. He claims that everybody is only following the path prescribed by his lower desires, but these desires lead him away from the great totality that comprises the human community in moral harmony. Such an age must needs lead those who live in its tendency into decline and destruction. What Fichte meant to enliven in the human soul was the sense of duty and obligation.

[ 41 ] In this fashion, Fichte attempted to exert a formative influence on the life of his time with his ideas because he saw these ideas as vigorously enlivened by the consciousness that man derives the highest content of his soul life from a world to which he can obtain access by settling his account with his “ego” all by himself. In so doing man feels himself in his true vocation. From such a conviction, Fichte coins the words, “I, myself, and my necessary purpose are the supersensible.”

[ 42 ] To be aware of himself as consciously living in the supersensible is, according to Fichte, an experience of which man is capable. When he arrives at this experience, he then knows the “I” within himself, and it is only through this act that he becomes a philosopher. This experience, to be sure, cannot be “proven” to somebody who is unwilling to undergo it himself. How little Fichte considers such a “proof” possible is documented by expressions like, “The gift of a philosopher is inborn, furthered through education and then obtained by self-education, but there is no human art to make philosophers. For this reason, philosophy expects few proselytes among those men who are already formed, polished and perfected. . . .”

[ 43 ] Fichte is intent on finding a soul constitution through which the human “ego” can experience itself. The knowledge of nature seems unsuitable to him to reveal anything of the essence of the “ego.” From the fifteenth to the eighteenth century, thinkers arose who were concerned with the question: What element could be found in the picture of nature by means of which the human being could become explainable in this picture? Goethe did not see the question in this way. He felt a spiritual nature behind the externally manifested one. For him, the human soul is capable of experiences through which it lives not only in the externally manifested, but within the creative forces. Goethe was in quest of the idea, as were the Greeks, but he did not look for it as perceptible idea. He meant to find it in participating in the world processes through inner experience where these can no longer be perceived. Goethe searched in the soul for the life of nature. Fichte also searched in the soul itself, but he did not focus his search where nature lives in the soul but immediately where the soul feels its own life kindled without regard to any other world processes and world entities with which this life might be connected. With Fichte, a world conception arose that exhausted all its endeavor in the attempt to find an inner soul life that compared to the thought life of the Greeks, as did their thought life to the picture conception of the age before them. In Fichte, thought becomes an experience of the ego as the picture had become thought with the Greek thinkers. With Fichte, world conception is ready to experience self-consciousness; with Plato and Aristotle, it had arrived at the point to think soul consciousness.

[ 44 ] Just as Kant dethroned knowledge in order to make place for belief, so Fichte declared knowledge to be mere appearance in order to open the gates for living action, for moral activity. A similar attempt was also made by Schiller. Only in his case, the part that was claimed by belief in Kant's philosophy, and by action in that of Fichte, was now occupied by beauty. Schiller's significance in the development of world conception is usually underestimated. Goethe had to complain that he was not recognized as a natural scientist just because people had become accustomed to take him as a poet, and those who penetrate into Schiller's philosophical ideas must regret that he is appreciated so little by the scholars who deal with the history of world conception, because Schiller's field is considered to be limited to the realm of poetry.

[ 45 ] As a thoroughly self-dependent thinker, Schiller takes his attitude toward Kant, who had been so stimulating and thought-provoking to him. The loftiness of the moral belief to which Kant meant to lift man was highly appreciated by the poet who, in his Robbers, and Cabal and Love, had held a mirror to the corruption of his time. But he asked himself the question: Should it indeed be a necessary truth that man can be lifted to the height of “the categorical imperative” only through the struggle against his desires and urges? Kant wanted to ascribe to the sensual nature of man only the inclination toward the low, the self-seeking, the gratification of the senses, and only he who lifted himself above the sensual nature, who mortified the flesh and who alone allowed the pure spiritual voice of duty to speak within him: Only he could be virtuous. Thus, Kant debased the natural man in order to be able to elevate the moral man so much the higher. To Schiller this judgment seemed to contain something that was unworthy of man. Should it not be possible to ennoble the impulses of man to become in themselves inclined toward the life of duty and morality? They would then not have to be suppressed to become morally effective. Schiller, therefore, opposes Kant's rigorous demand of duty in the epigram:

Scruples of Conscience.

Gladly I serve my friends, but, alas, I do so with pleasure
And so I oftentimes grieve that I lack virtue indeed.

Decision.

There is no better advice; you must try to despise them
And with disgust you must do strictly as duty commands.

[ 46 ] Schiller attempted to dissolve these “scruples of conscience” in his own fashion. There are actually two impulses ruling in man: The impulses of the sensual desire and the impulse of reason. If man surrenders to the sensual impulse, he is a plaything of his desires and passions, in short, of his egoism. If he gives himself completely up to the impulses of reason, he is a slave of its rigorous commands, its inexorable logic, its categorical imperative. A man who wants to live exclusively for the sensual impulse must silence reason; a man who wants to serve reason only must mortify sensuality. If the former, nevertheless, listens to the voice of reason, he will yield to it only reluctantly against his own will; if the latter observes the call of his desires, he feels them as a burden on his path of virtue. The physical nature of man and his spiritual character then seem to live in a fateful discord. Is there no state in man in which both the impulses, the sensual and the spiritual, live in harmony? Schiller's answer to this question is positive. There is, indeed, such a state in man. It is the state in which the beautiful is created and enjoyed. He who creates a work of art follows a free impulse of nature. He follows an inclination in doing so, but it is not physical passion that drives him. It is imagination; it is the spirit. This also holds for a man who surrenders to the enjoyment of a work of art. The work of art, while it affects his sensuality, satisfies his spirit at the same time. Man can yield to his desires without observing the higher laws of the spirit; he can comply with his duties without paying attention to sensuality. A beautiful work of art affects his delight without awakening his desires, and it transports him into a world in which he abides by virtue of his own disposition. Man is comparable to a child in this state, following his inclinations in his actions without asking if they run counter to the laws of reason. “The sensual man is led through beauty . . . into thinking; through beauty, the spiritual man is led back to matter, returned to the world of the senses” (Letters on the Esthetic Education of Man; Letter 18).

The lofty freedom and equanimity of the spirit, combined with strength and vigor is the mood in which we should part from a genuine work of art; there is no surer test of its true esthetic quality. If, after an enjoyment of this kind, we find ourselves inclined to some particular sentiment or course of action, but awkward and ill at ease for another, then this can serve as infallible proof that we have not experienced a pure esthetic effect; this may be caused by the object or our mode of approach, or (as is almost always the case) by both causes simultaneously. (Letter 22.)

As man is, through beauty, neither the slave of sensuality nor of reason, but because through its mediation both factors contribute their effect in a balanced cooperation in man's soul, Schiller compares the instinct for beauty with the child's impulse who, in his play, does not submit his spirit to the laws of reason, but employs it freely according to his inclination. It is for this reason that Schiller calls the impulse for beauty, play-impulse:

In relation to the agreeable, to the good, to the perfect, man is only serious, but he plays with beauty. In this respect, to be sure, we must not think of the games that go on in real life and that ordinarily are concerned with material objects, but in real life we should also search in vain for the beauty that is meant here. The beauty existing in reality is on the same level as the play-impulse in the real world, but through the ideal of beauty, which is upheld by reason, an ideal is also demanded of the play-impulse that man is to consider wherever he plays. (Letter 15.)

In the realization of this ideal play-impulse, man finds the reality of freedom. Now, he no longer obeys reason, nor does he follow sensual inclinations any longer. He now acts from inclination as if the spring of his action were reason. “Man shall only play with beauty and it is only with beauty that he shall play. . To state it without further reserve, man plays only when he is human in the full sense of the word and he is only wholly human when he is playing.” Schiller could also have said: In play man is free; in following the command of duty, and in yielding to sensuality, he is unfree. If man wants to be human in the full meaning of the word, and also with regard to his moral actions, that is to say, if he really wants to be free, then he must live in the same relation to his virtues as he does to beauty. He must ennoble his inclinations into virtues and must be so permeated by his virtues that he feels no other inclination than that of following them. A man who has established this harmony between inclination and duty can, in every moment, count on the morality of his actions as a matter of course.

[ 47 ] From this viewpoint, one can also look at man's social life. A man who follows his sensual desires is self-seeking. He would always be bent on his own well-being if the state did not regulate the social intercourse through laws of reason. The free man accomplishes through his own impulse what the state must demand of the self-seeking. In a community of free men no compulsory laws are necessary.

In the midst of the fearful world of forces, and in the awe-demanding sanctuary of laws, the esthetic formative impulse is imperceptibly building a third delightful realm of play and appearances in which man is released from the fetters of all circumstances and freed from everything that is called compulsion, both in the physical and in the moral world. (Letter 27.)

This realm extends upward as far as the region where reason rules with unconditional necessity and where all matter ceases; it stretches below as far as the world in which the force of nature holds sway with blind compulsion.

Thus, Schiller considers a moral realm as an ideal in which the temper of virtue rules with the same ease and freedom as the esthetic taste governs in the realm of beauty. He makes life in the realm of beauty the model of a perfect moral social order in which man is liberated in every direction. Schiller closes the beautiful essay in which he proclaims this ideal with the question of whether such an order had anywhere been realized. He answers with the words:

As a need, it exists in every delicately attuned soul; as an actuality it can probably only be found, like the pure church and the pure republic, in a few select circles where, not the thoughtless imitation of heterogeneous customs, but the inherent beautiful nature guides the demeanor, where man goes with undismayed simplicity and undisturbed innocence through the most complicated situations without the need of offending the freedom of others nor of defending his own, without need of offending his dignity in order to show charm and grace.

[ 48 ] In this virtue refined into beauty, Schiller found a mediation between the world conceptions of Kant and Goethe. No matter how great the attraction that Schiller had found in Kant when the latter had defended the ideal of a pure humanity against the prevailing moral order, when Schiller became more intimately acquainted with Goethe, he became an admirer of Goethe's view of world and life. Schiller's mind, always relentlessly striving for the purest clarity of thought, was not satisfied before he had succeeded in penetrating also conceptually into this wisdom of Goethe. The high satisfaction Goethe derived from his view of beauty and art, and also for his conduct of life, attracted Schiller more and more to the mode of Goethe's conception. In the letter in which Schiller thanks Goethe for sending him his Wilhelm Meister, he says:

I cannot express to you how painfully I am impressed when I turn from a product of this kind to the bustle of philosophy. In the one world everything is so serene, so alive, so harmoniously dissolved, so truly human; in the other, everything is so rigorous, so rigid and abstract, so unnatural, because nature is always nothing but synthesis and philosophy is antithesis. I may claim, to be sure, to have in all my speculations remained as faithful to nature as is compatible with the concept of analysis; I may, indeed, have remained more faithful to her than our Kantians considered permissible and possible. I feel, nevertheless, the infinite distance between life and reflection, and in such a melancholy moment I cannot help considering as a defect in my nature what, in a more cheerful hour, I must regard as merely a trait inherent in the nature of things. In the meantime, I am certain of this at least: The poet is the only true man and, compared to him, the best philosopher is merely a caricature.

This judgment of Schiller can only refer to the Kantian philosophy with which he had had his experiences. In many respects, it estranges man from nature. It approaches nature with no confidence in it but recognizes as valid truth only what is derived from man's own mental organization. Through this trait all judgments of that philosophy seem to lack the lively content and color so characteristic of everything that has its source in the immediate experience of nature's events and things themselves. This philosophy moves in bloodless, gray and cold abstractions. It has sacrificed the warmth we derive from the immediate touch with things and beings and has exchanged the frigidity of its abstract concepts for it. In the field of morality, also, Kant's world conception presents the same antagonism to nature. The duty-concept of pure reason is regarded as its highest aims. What man loves, what his inclinations tend to, everything in man's being that is immediately rooted in man's nature, must be subordinated to this ideal of duty. Kant goes even as far as the realm of beauty to extinguish the share that man must have in it according to his original sensations and feelings. The beautiful is to produce a delight that is completely “free from interest.” Compare that with how devoted, how really interested Schiller approaches a work in which he admires the highest stage of artistic production. He says concerning Wilhelm Meister:

I can express the feeling that permeates me and takes possession of me as I read this book no better than as a sweet well-being, as a feeling of spiritual and bodily health, and I am firmly convinced that this must be the feeling with all readers in general. . . . I explain this well-being with the quiet clarity, smoothness and transparence that prevails throughout the book, leaving the reader without the slightest dissatisfaction and disturbance, and producing no more emotion than is necessary to kindle and support a cheerful life in his soul.

These are not the words of somebody who believes in delight without interest, but of a man who is convinced that the pleasure in the beautiful is capable of being so refined that a complete surrender to this pleasure does not involve degradation. Interest is not to be extinguished as we approach the work of art; rather are we to become capable of including in our interest what has its source in the spirit. The “true” man is to develop this kind of interest for the beautiful also with respect to his moral conceptions. Schiller writes in a letter to Goethe, “It is really worth observing that the slackness with regard to esthetic things appears always to be connected with moral slackness, and that a pure rigorous striving for high beauty with the highest degree of liberality concerning everything that is nature will contain in itself rigorism in moral life.”

[ 49 ] The estrangement from nature in the world conception and in all of the culture of the time in which he lived was felt so strongly by Schiller that he made it the subject of his essay, On Naive and Sentimental Poetry. He compares the life conception of his time with that of the Greeks and raises the question, “How is it that we, who are infinitely surpassed by the ancients in everything that is nature, can render homage to nature to a higher degree, cling to her with fervour and can embrace even the lifeless world with the warmest sentiments.” He answers this question by saying:

This is caused by the fact that, with us, nature has vanished out of humanity and we therefore find her in reality only outside humanity in the inanimate world. It is not our greater naturalness, but, quite to the contrary, the unnaturalness of our lives, state of affairs and customs that drives us to give satisfaction in the physical to the awakening sense for truth and simplicity, which, like the moral faculty from which it springs, lies without corruption and inextinguishably in all men's hearts because we no longer can hope to find it in the moral world. It is for this reason that the feeling with which we cling to nature is so closely related to the sentiment with which we lament the loss of the age of childhood and of the child's innocence. Our childhood is the only unspoiled nature that we still find in civilized humanity, and it is, therefore, no wonder that every footstep of nature leads us back to our own childhood.

This was entirely different with the Greeks. They lived their lives within the bounds of the natural. Everything they did sprang from their natural conception, feeling and sentiment. They were intimately bound to nature. Modern man feels himself in his own being placed in contrast to nature. As the urge toward this primeval mother of being cannot be extinguished, it transforms itself in the modern soul into a yearning for nature, into a search for it. The Greek had nature; modern man searches for nature.

As long as man is still pure nature and, to be sure, not brutal, he acts as an undivided sensual unity and as a harmonizing whole. His senses and his reason, his receptive and his self-active faculties, have not as yet separated in their function and certainly do not act in contradiction to each other. His sentiments are not the formless play of chance; his thoughts, not the empty play of his imagination. These thoughts have their origin in the law of necessity; the sentiments, in reality. As soon as man comes into the state of civilization, and as soon as art enters into his sphere of life, the sensual harmony is dissolved and he can now only act as a moral unity, that is to say, as striving for unity. The agreement between his perception and his thought, which in his former state was actual, is now merely ideal; it is no longer in him, but beyond him; as a thought whose realization is demanded, it is no longer a fact of his life.

The fundamental mood of the Greek spirit was naive, that of modern man is sentimental. The Greeks' world conception could, for this reason, be rightly realistic, for he had not yet separated the spiritual from the natural; for him, nature included the spirit. If he surrendered to nature, it was to a spirit-saturated nature. This is not so with modern man. He has detached the spirit from nature; he has lifted the spirit into the realm of gray abstractions. If he were to surrender to his nature, he would yield to a nature deprived of all spirit. Therefore, his loftiest striving must be directed toward the ideal; through the striving for this goal, spirit and nature are to be reconciled again. In Goethe's mode of spirit, however, Schiller found something that was akin to the Greek spirit. Goethe felt that he saw his ideas and thoughts with his eyes because he felt reality as an undivided unity of spirit and nature. According to Schiller, Goethe had preserved something in himself that will be attained again by the “sentimental man” when he has reached the climax of his striving. Modern man arrives at such a summit in the esthetic mood as Schiller describes it in the state of soul in which sensuality and reason are harmonized again.

[ 50 ] The nature of the development of modern world conception is significantly characterized in the observation Schiller made to Goethe in his letter of August 23, 1794:

Had you been born a Greek and been surrounded since birth by exquisite nature and idealizing art, your road would have been infinitely shortened; perhaps it would have been made entirely unnecessary. With the very first perception of things, you would have absorbed the form of the necessary, and with your first experience, the grand style would have developed within you. As it is now . . . since your Greek spirit was cast into this nordic creation, you had no other choice than either to become a nordic artist yourself or to supplement your imagination by means of thought for what reality fails to supply, and thus to give birth from within to another Greece.

Schiller, as these sentences show, is aware of the course that the development of soul life has taken from the age of the ancient Greeks until his own time, for the Greek soul life disclosed itself in the life of thought and he could accept this unveiling because thought was for him a perception like the perception of color and sounds. This kind of thought life has faded away for modern man. The powers that weave creatively through the world must be experienced by him as an inner soul experience, and in order to render this imperceptible thought life inwardly visible, it nevertheless must be filled by imagination. This imagination must be such that it is felt as one with the creative powers of nature.

[ 51 ] Because soul consciousness has been transformed into self-consciousness in modern man, the question of world conception arises: How can self-consciousness experience itself so vividly that it feels its conscious process as permeating the creative process of the living world forces? Schiller answered this question for himself in his own fashion when he claimed the life in the artistic experience as his ideal. In this experience the human self-consciousness feels its kinship with an element that transcends the mere nature picture. In it, man feels himself seized by the spirit as he surrenders as a natural and sensual being to the world. Leibniz had attempted to understand the human soul as a monad. Fichte had not proceeded from a mere idea to gain clarity of the nature of the human soul; he searched for a form of experience in which this soul lays hold on its own being. Schiller raises the question: Is there a form of experience for the human soul in which it can feel how it has its roots in spiritual reality? Goethe experiences ideas in himself that present themselves to him at the same time as ideas of nature.

In Goethe, Fichte and Schiller, the experienced idea—one could also say, the idea-experience—forces its way into the soul. Such a process had previously happened in the world of the Greeks with the perceived idea, the idea-perception.

[ 52 ] The world and life conception that lived in Goethe in a natural (naive) way, and toward which Schiller strove on all detours of his thought development, does not feel the need for the kind of universally valid truth that sees its ideal in the mathematical form. It is satisfied by another truth, which our spirit derives from the immediate intercourse with the real world. The insights Goethe derived from the contemplation of the works of art in Italy were, to be sure, not of the unconditional certainty as are the theorems of mathematics, but they also were less abstract. Goethe approached them with the feeling, “Here is necessity, here is God.” A truth that could not also be revealed in a perfect work of art did not exist for Goethe. What art makes manifest with its technical means of tone, marble, color, rhythm, etc., springs from the same source from which the philosopher also draws who does not avail himself of visual means of presentation but who uses as his means of expression only thought, the idea itself. “Poetry points at the mysteries of nature and attempts to solve them through the picture,” says Goethe. “Philosophy points at the mysteries of reason and attempts to solve them through the word.” In the final analysis, however, reason and nature are, for him, inseparably one; the same truth is the foundation of both. An endeavor for knowledge, which lives in detachment from things in an abstract world, does not seem to him to be the highest form of cognitive life. “It would be the highest attainment to understand that all factual knowledge is already theory.” The blueness of the sky reveals the fundamental law of color phenomena to us. “One should not search for anything behind the phenomena; they, themselves, are the message.”

The psychologist, Heinroth, in his Anthology, called the mode of thinking through which Goethe arrived at his insights into the natural formation of plants and animals, an “object-related thinking” (Gegenstaendliches Denken). What he means is that this mode of thinking does not detach itself from its objects, but that the objects of observation are intimately permeated with this thinking, that Goethe's mode of thinking is at the same time a form of observation, and his mode of observation a form of thinking. Schiller becomes a subtle observer as he describes this mode of spirit. He writes on this subject in a letter to Goethe:

Your observing eye, which so calmly and clearly rests on things, keeps you from being ever exposed to the danger of going astray in the direction where speculation and an arbitrary, merely introspective imagination so easily lose their way. Your correct intuition contains everything, and in a far greater completeness, for which an analytical mind searches laboriously; only because everything is at your disposal as a complete whole are you unaware of your own riches, for unfortunately we know only what we dissect. Spirits of your kind, therefore, rarely know how far advanced they are and how little cause they have to borrow from philosophy, which in turn can only learn from them.

For the world conception of Goethe and Schiller, truth is not only contained in science, but also in art. Goethe expresses his opinion as follows, “I think science could be called the knowledge of the general art. Art would be science turned into action. Science would be reason, and art its mechanism, wherefore one could also call it practical science. Thus, finally, science would be the theorem and art the problem.” Goethe describes the interdependence of scientific cognition and artistic expression of knowledge thus:

It is obvious that an. . . . artist must become greater and more erudite if he not only has his talent but is also a well-informed botanist; if he knows, starting from the root, all the influences of the various parts of a plant on its thriving and growth, their function and mutual effect; if he has an insight into the successive development of the leaves, the flowers, the fertilization, the fruit and the new germ, and if he contemplates this process. Such an artist will not merely show his taste through his power of selection from the realm of appearances, but he will also surprise us with his correct presentation of the characteristic qualities.

Thus, truth rules in the process of artistic creation for the artistic style depends, according to this view, “. . . on the deepest foundations of knowledge, on the essence of things insofar as it is permissible to know it in visible and touchable forms.” The fact that creative imagination is granted a share in the process of knowledge and that the abstract intellect is no longer considered to be the only cognitive faculty is a consequence of this view concerning truth. The conceptions on which Goethe based his contemplation's on plant and animal formations were not gray and abstract thoughts but sensual-supersensual pictures, created by spontaneous imagination. Only observation combined with imagination can really lead into the essence of things, not bloodless abstraction; this is Goethe's conviction. For this reason, Goethe said about Galileo that he made his observations as a genius “for whom one case represents a thousand cases . . . when he developed the doctrine of the pendulum and the fall of bodies from swinging church lamps.” Imagination uses the one case in order to produce a content-saturated picture of what is essential in the appearances; the intellect that operates by means of abstractions can, through combination, comparison and calculation of the appearances, gain no more than a general rule of their course. This belief in the possible cognitive function of an imagination that rises into a conscious participation in the creative world process is supported by Goethe's entire world conception. Whoever, like him, sees nature's activity in everything, can also see in the spiritual content of the human imagination nothing but higher products of nature. The pictures of fantasy are products of nature and, as they represent nature, they can only contain truth, for otherwise nature would lie to herself in these afterimages that she creates of herself. Only men with imagination can attain to the highest stages of knowledge. Goethe calls these men the “comprehensive” and the “contemplative” in contrast to the merely “intellectual-inquisitive,” who have remained on a lower stage of cognitive life.

The intellectual inquisitive need a calm, unselfish power of observation, the excitement of curiosity, a clear intellect . . . ; they only digest scientifically what they find ready-made.

The contemplative are already creative in their attitude, and knowledge in them, as it reaches a higher level, demands contemplation unconsciously and changes over into that form; much as they may shun the word “imagination,” they will, nevertheless, before they are aware of it, call upon the support of creative imagination. . . The comprehensive thinkers who, with a prouder name, could be called creative thinkers, are, in their attitude, productive in the highest sense, for, as they start from ideas, they express from the outset the unity of the whole. From then on, it is the task of nature, as it were, to submit to these ideas.

It cannot occur to the believer in such a form of cognition to speak of limitations of human knowledge in a Kantian fashion, for he experiences within himself what man needs as his truth. The core of nature is in the inner life of man. The world conception of Goethe and Schiller does not demand of its truth that it should be a repetition of the world phenomena in conceptual form. It does not demand that its conception should literally correspond to something outside man. What appears in man's inner life as an ideal element, as something spiritual, is as such not to be found in any external world; it appears as the climax of the whole development. For this reason, it does not, according to this philosophy, have to appear in all human beings in the same shape. It can take on an individual form in any individual. Whoever expects to find the truth in the agreement with something external can acknowledge only one form of it, and he will look for it, with Kant, in the type of metaphysics that alone “will be able to present itself as science.” Whoever sees the element in which, as Goethe states in his essay on Winckelmann, “the universe, if it could feel itself, would rejoice as having arrived at its aim in which it could admire the climax of its own becoming and being,” such a thinker can say with Goethe, “If I know my relation to myself and to the external world, I call this truth; in this way everybody can have his own truth and it is yet the same.” For “man in himself, insofar as he uses his healthy senses, is the greatest and most exact apparatus of physics that is possible. Yet, that the experiments separated, as it were, from man, and that one wants to know nature only according to the indications of artificial instruments, even intending to limit and prove in this way what nature is capable of, is the greatest misfortune of modern physics.” Man, however, “stands so high that in him is represented what cannot be represented otherwise. What is the string and all mechanical division of it compared to the ear of the musician? One can even say, ‘What are all elementary phenomena of nature themselves compared to man who must master and modify them all in order to be able to assimilate them to himself to a tolerable degree.’ ”

[ 53 ] Concerning his world picture, Goethe speaks neither of a mere knowledge of intellectual concepts nor of belief; he speaks of a contemplative perception in the spirit. He writes to Jacobi, “You trust in belief in God; I, in seeing.” This seeing in the spirit as it is meant here thus enters into the development of world conception as the soul force that is appropriate to an age to which thought is no longer what it had been to the Greek thinkers, but in which thought had revealed itself as a product of self-consciousness, a product, however, that is arrived at through the fact that this self-consciousness is aware of itself as having its being within the spiritually creative forces of nature. Goethe is the representative of an epoch of world conception in which the need is felt to make the transition from mere thinking to spiritual seeing. Schiller strives to justify this transition against Kant's position.

[ 54 ] The close alliance that was formed by Goethe, Schiller and their contemporaries between poetic imagination and world conception has freed this conception from the lifeless expression that it must take on when it exclusively moves in the region of the abstract intellect. This alliance has resulted in the belief that there is a personal element in world conception. It is possible for man to work out an approach to the world for himself that is in accordance with his own specific nature and enter thereby into the world of reality, not merely into a world of fantastic schemes. His ideal no longer needs to be that of Kant, which is formed after the model of mathematics and arrives at a world picture that is once and for all finished and completed. Only from a spiritual atmosphere of such a conviction that has an inspiring effect on the human individuality can a conception like that of Jean Paul (1763 – 1825) arise. “The heart of a genius, to whom all other splendor and help-giving energies are subordinated, has one genuine symptom, namely, a new outlook on world and life.” How could it be the mark of the highest developed man, of genius, to create a new world and life conception if the conceived world consisted only in one form? Jean Paul is, in his own way, a defender of Goethe's view that man experiences inside his own self the ultimate existence. He writes to Jacobi:

Properly speaking, we do not merely believe in divine freedom, God and virtue, but we really see them manifested or in the process of manifestation; this very seeing is a knowing and a higher form of knowing, while the knowledge of intellect merely refers to a seeing of a lower order. One could call reason the consciousness of the only positive, for everything positive experienced by sense perception does finally dissolve into the spiritual, and understanding carries on its bustle only with the relative, which in itself is nothing, so that before God all conditions of “more or less,” and all stages of comparison cease to be.

Jean Paul will not allow anything to deprive him of the right to experience truth inwardly and to employ all forces of the soul for this purpose. He will not be restricted to the use of logical intellect.

Transcendental philosophy (Jean Paul has in mind here the world view following Kant) is not to tear the heart, man's living root, out of his breast to replace it with a pure impulse of selfhood; I shall not consent to be liberated from the dependence of Love, to be blessed by pride only.

With these words he rejects the world-estranged moral order of Kant.

I remain firmly with my conviction that there are four last, and four first things: Beauty, Truth, Morality and Salvation, and their synthesis is not only necessary but also already a fact, but only in a subtle spiritual-organic unity (and for just this reason it is a unity), without which we could not find any understanding of these four evangelists or world continents, nor any transition between them.

The critical analysis of the intellect, which proceeded with an extreme logical rigor, had, in Kant and Fichte, come to the point of reducing the self-dependent significance of the real life-saturated world to a mere shadow, to a dream picture. This view was unbearable to men gifted with spontaneous imagination, who enriched life by the creation of their imaginative power. These men felt the reality; it was there in their perception, present in their souls, and now it was attempted to prove to them its mere dreamlike quality. “The windows of the philosophical academic halls are too high to allow a view into the alleys of real life,” was the answer of Jean Paul.

[ 55 ] Fichte strove for the purest, highest experienced truth. He renounced all knowledge that does not spring from our own inner source. The counter movement to his world conception is formed by the Romantic Movement. Fichte acknowledges only the truth, and the inner life of man only insofar as it reveals the truth; the world conception of the romanticists acknowledges only the inner life, and it declares as valuable everything that springs from this inner life. The ego is not to be chained by anything external. Whatever it produces is justified.

[ 56 ] One may say about the romantic movement that it carries Schiller's statement to its extreme consequence, “Man plays only where he is human in the full sense of the word, and he is only wholly human when he is playing.” Romanticism wants to make the whole world into a realm of the artistic. The fully developed man knows no other norms than the laws he creates through his freely ruling imaginative power, in the same way as the artist creates those laws he impresses into his works. He rises above everything that determines him from without and lives entirely through the springs of his own self. The whole world is for him nothing but a material for his esthetic play. The seriousness of man in his everyday life is not rooted in truth. The soul that arrives at true knowledge cannot take seriously the things by themselves; for such a soul they are not in themselves valuable. They are endowed with value only by the soul. The mood of a spirit that is aware of his sovereignty over things is called by the romanticists, the ironical mood of spirit.

Karl Wilhelm Ferdinand Solger (1780–1819) gave the following explanation of the term “romantic irony”: The spirit of the artist must comprise all directions in one sweeping glance and this glance, hovering above everything, looking down on everything and annihilating it, we call “irony.” Friedrich Schlegel (1772–1829), one of the leading spokesmen for the romantic turn of spirit, states concerning this mood of irony that it takes everything in at a glance and rises infinitely above everything that is limited, also above some form of art, virtue or genius. Whoever lives in this mood feels bound by nothing; nothing determines the direction of his activity for him. He can “at his own pleasure tune himself to be either philosophical or philological, critical or poetical, historical or rhetorical, antique or modern.” The ironical spirit rises above an eternal moral world order, for this spirit is not told what to do by anything except himself. The ironist is to do what he pleases, for his morality can only be an esthetic morality. The romanticists are the heirs of Fichte's thought of the uniqueness of the ego. They were, however, unwilling to fill this ego with a moral belief, as Fichte did, but stood above all on the right of fantasy and of the unrestrained power of the soul. With them, thinking was entirely absorbed by poetic imagination. Novalis says, “It is quite bad that poetry has a special name and that the poet represents a special profession. It is not anything special by itself. It is the mode of activity proper to the human spirit. Are not the imaginations of man's heart at work every minute?” The ego, exclusively concerned with itself, can arrive at the highest truth: “It seems to man that he is engaged in a conversation, and some unknown spiritual being causes him to develop the most evident thoughts in a miraculous fashion.

Fundamentally, what the romanticists aimed at did not differ from what Goethe and Schiller had also made their credo: A conception of man through which he appeared as perfect and as free as possible. Novalis experiences his poems and contemplation's in a soul mood that had a relationship toward the world picture similar to that of Fichte. Fichte's spirit, however, works the sharp contours of pure concepts, while that of Novalis springs from a richness of soul, feeling where others think, living in the element of love where others aim to embrace what is and what goes on in the world with ideas. It is the tendency of this age, as can be seen in its representative thinkers, to search for the higher spirit nature in which the self-conscious soul is rooted because it cannot have its roots in the world of sense reality. Novalis feels and experiences himself as having his being within the higher spirit nature. What he expresses he feels through his innate genius as the revelations of this very spirit nature. He writes:

One man succeeded; he lifted the veil of the goddess at Saris. What did he see then? He saw—wonder of wonders—himself.

Novalis expresses his own intimate feeling of the spiritual mystery behind the world of the senses and of the human self consciousness as the organ through which this mystery reveals itself, in these words:

The spirit world is indeed already unlocked for us; it is always revealed. If we suddenly became as elastic as we should be, we should see ourselves in the midst of it.