The Rudolf Steiner Archive

Among the world mysteries that not only impose themselves on man from a purely scientific point of view, but are repeatedly posed by life, is that of the source of evil and evil in the world. Allow me to speak this evening from the point of view of spiritual science about this particular puzzle of human life, and specifically of that spiritual science, the foundations of which I have been expounding to this audience for many years.

Before actually addressing the questions in question, I would like to briefly point out how the question of evil and the evils in the world have occupied the mind of the inquisitive throughout the centuries, and this incessant preoccupation should already show how deeply evil and the evils are felt by the human soul. It will be sufficient to mention briefly that the philosophers, from the most diverse points of view, according to which they saw evil and evils penetrating into life, tried to solve its riddle, but nevertheless did not fully come to terms with it. Let us go back to the philosophy of the third century B.C., known as Stoicism, which attempted to derive the principles of the universe and of human behavior from Greek thought. The Stoics were confronted with another question: How can one come to terms with human life when one feels the sting of evil within oneself in life and sees the otherwise wise governance of the world riddled with the evils of existence? If one wants to try to characterize how Stoicism coped with evil in human nature, one has to look at the states of consciousness arising from the foundations of the world. When the Stoic unfolded the powers of his consciousness, which he assumed to be in harmony with the world, he thought that only good could develop; but evil also occurred; then he said: It is when evil enters into the nature of the human soul that there is a state of twilight in the soul, a kind of spiritual powerlessness. And the Stoic then asked himself: how can the normal consciousness of our soul be dimmed, or even rendered unconscious? Because man is a complicated being and, even if he lives in one of these normal spheres with his consciousness, he sometimes descends into lower spheres, similar to when he falls asleep, and is imbued with what is not and should not normally be in him. The Stoic thus thinks of man as belonging to several worlds; if he follows the good, he is in his own sphere; if he falls to evil, he is among the same. In the visible world, there is something lower than man, in the animals, plants and minerals, a hierarchy of the natural kingdoms. That, then, into which man submerges in evil, must be there as a disharmony of nature. But here it can be said that this attempt at a solution shows the inadequacy of any such way of looking at these riddles, because the question remains unanswered as to why, when a person, in a state of diminished consciousness, descends below his normal sphere and evil comes to the fore, what significance does it have in human life, and what does he bring back from there at all? Philosophical thinking proved - and still proves - to be powerless to approach the problem of evil from this side.

Several centuries later, the Neoplatonic philosopher Plotinus attempted to approach the problem of evil from the standpoint of mystical philosophy. He reasoned that the human soul, through further development in the sense of spiritualization, can delve deeper into the spiritual and gradually break free from the laws of material existence. In this, Plotinus, and with him many philosophers, saw that which is the enemy of good; he thought that to the extent that the material world had an effect on the soul, evil intruded to the same extent, and so he saw evil in the material world, which was hostile to the spiritual. But even with this, mystical thinking did not come close to the problem of evil: it has not been explained why material forces oppose good and what the human soul should get from the fact that these forces can play into it.

Then came the attempt at an Augustinian solution, which is not really one. But in this attempt, something typical occurs that will reappear again and again from then on; namely, Augustine does not allow evil to exist in its reality. He thinks that only good exists, and just as light can be found everywhere, but not in its full strength, but in the most diverse gradations, so evil is only a weak good with evils. Such solutions have been taken up again and again; they are an example of simply denying the world's riddles that could not be explained by their representatives. If, for example, Campbell called evil only the shadow of good, we doubt with good reason that evil can be understood by this; for us it is not much more than if one wanted to say: Cold is just another, a subspecies of heat, it is not something positive, but something negative, so we don't need to put on a fur coat to protect ourselves from it. Such a triviality had to be cited as an objection to characterize the value of the latter attempts at a solution.

The theosophist and mystic Jakob Böhme delved deeper into the world and its causes, where evil also appears as a positive force when examined with the spiritual eye. He did not stop at concepts and ideas because he increased his entire soul powers to a high level of experience and then felt and experienced what is spiritual and divine. He recognized that evil is deeply rooted in the roots of existence; before him, the entire existence spoke as a “yes” that can only be fulfilled by a “no”.

How do we as human beings attain consciousness? When a person sleeps, under ordinary circumstances he has no consciousness; only when he wakes up and, in the familiar way, collides with the world everywhere, does normal consciousness arise, his self-consciousness, in what opposes the soul. Jakob Böhme sees this way of encountering its objects already in the world's divine primal existence, by having it emerge from the dark existence of the Ungrund (the groundlessness). At that time, the divine consciousness could, in Böhme's view, only ignite itself in its opposite, as in the material in the human being. According to Böhme, the divine source arose out of the ungrounded, and thus, with the former, also the good and the evil. Jakob Böhme goes further with this view than with a mere philosophical explanation. Darkness is present without needing an explanation; it is light that needs explanation. Thus Böhme, like Schelling, allows the effects to arise from the dark ungroundedness of the world, which they see as being permeated by the divine-spiritual existence, and which are thrown into the primal ground by the action of the divine. It is remarkable that Jakob Böhme positively recognizes evil and sees it not in the external sense world, but rooted in the foundations of existence, because every divine must raise itself and the world out of the ungrounded.

It is interesting that a contemporary of Jakob Böhme in Japan, Toju, the sage of Omi, who lived there around the middle of the seventeenth century, established a philosophy in the Far East that strives for a similar solution. His view is almost the same as that of Böhme, the divine “Yes” of the Ungrund rises and plays into the “No”, the “Ri” of the Ungrund into the “Ki” of the Urgrund.

Thus we see how each of them, in his own way, seeks to approach the riddle of evil and the evil one through philosophy and mysticism of varying depth. A certain powerlessness to approach the solution of this problem also appears in Lotze, in that brilliant philosopher who also tries to stand firmly on the ground of natural science with regard to evil. He says: One can assume that evil must be present in the world so that good can be drawn from it by overcoming it. But what about the animal kingdom, where evil cannot be overcome by education? Lotze therefore comes to no other conclusion than to say: evil is there, and we must believe that it seemed necessary for reasons that are not accessible to man, to the wise world government. Human knowledge is denied recognition in this regard.

Everything else that could be said on a large scale would demonstrate anew that conceptual, idealistic philosophy fails when it comes to explaining evil and that this philosophy itself comes to the conclusion that it is currently impossible to come close to solving the problem of evil and evils. And such problems become, for a philosophy tied to the brain as its tool, issues at the limits of its cognitive field; from its standpoint, it must indeed come to the conclusion that human knowledge has fundamental limits. In contrast to this, however, it must be pointed out that the human power of cognition undergoes a development that can be accelerated and deepened by one's own effort. When this happens and the problem of evil is approached with the means of spiritual science, a most remarkable solution arises, which may initially appear paradoxical.

We know that spiritual research is not based solely on the ordinary power of perception, but above all on that which initially lies dormant in man, but can be brought up from the unconscious through the means of meditation and concentration, through an unlimited effort of mental and soul activity, which are otherwise only used in their elementary state. Then, after such strengthening, the human being can experience himself outside of his body, like a table, for example, which stands in front of him in ordinary daily consciousness. Just as it is easily possible for the chemist to separate water into its two elementary components, hydrogen and oxygen, so, as in a kind of spiritual chemistry, the soul can be lifted out of the body and brought to independent activity, leaving the body in the physical world while it works in the spiritual world. In this state, the spiritual researcher experiences the existence of spiritual entities and the processes in the spiritual world as a higher reality.

What then is the nature of evil when man, as a spiritual researcher, develops spiritual eyes and ears? What kind of forces are these that have been dormant in the depths of the soul and are now awakened? The soul then feels in possession of powers that it cannot develop within the physical body, with its tendency towards the wrong, the ugly and the erroneous. However, when growing into the spiritual worlds, it sees that this no longer hinders it , if a person has a clear awareness of these shortcomings before his separation and, when the soul emerges from its corporeality, gains an insight into the fact that these weaknesses and shortcomings become sources of action in the spiritual world as soon as he can look courageously and boldly at his faults. Indeed, the spiritual researcher must train his senses to such an extent that he can look at all ugly passions; for if he does not allow them all to enter into his fully clear consciousness, they will have all the stronger an effect on the spiritual field of perception, penetrating his views and turning them into errors, hallucinations and fantasies. Thus a connection is established between the evil, the work of the spiritual researcher and his ascent into the spiritual world. What is available to the spiritual researcher and provides him with clarity rests in the depths of the soul of the undeveloped human being. When the spiritual researcher visualizes evil in his mind's eye and compares it to the forces that could lift him up into the spiritual world, it turns out that the forces through which the human being commits evil deeds in the world of the senses are transformed in the spiritual world, so that through them one can see with spiritual senses in the spiritual world. Seen there, they are the germs for the blossoming of clairvoyant powers. But this should not be misunderstood as if these elevated powers, which are transformed into their opposite in the physical world and develop into a source of evil and badness, would now readily develop clairvoyant powers in the human soul if they were preserved from taking possession of the physical body. It is precisely this that shines a deep light into human life and explains why it is an obstacle for the spiritual researcher if he does not recognize evil and it then flows into his soul life, where it then presents itself as illusion and error. Evil is like gravity, for example, at a lower level of nature, when it manifests itself in avalanches, volcanic eruptions, which can lead to great misfortune, while gravity, when it is properly and moderately directed, as in the case of a waterworks, will become a blessing for the population.

Just to explain, it should be emphasized that the spiritual-scientific facts show how human life cannot be imagined if one wants to explain it as a simple thing, but it is to be understood as a confusion of different worlds-spheres, whose forces can work well in one world and harmfully in another. The human organism as a whole must develop different forces in one particular life-sphere than in another. A locomotive can easily run over a person if, in desperation, he throws himself in front of its wheels on the tracks and thus comes into conflict with the forces that could have benefited him if he had used the train as a passenger. We therefore realize how, on the one hand, forces must develop that become evil on the other, and it is precisely these that can lead people upwards into the spiritual worlds; for in these forces, which have an evil effect on the physical world, higher forces prevail in a good, beneficial sense in the sphere that suits them. Thus, evil becomes transparent in its significance as a product of the transformation of forces in the life of man, so that we finally come to the fact: this evil is the perversion of a higher good in a sphere of activity that does not suit it.

Thus, when we approach the riddle of evil, we see that we must then apply spiritual-scientific powers that show how evil can be seen as justified in its true nature, even though we can experience good in its equally true meaning in another world. The events of the material world and the history of human thought teach us that those who remain in the material world cannot explain how pain and evil can penetrate it. Schopenhauer and Hartmann, in their pessimistic world view, explain how evil predominates in the world, but they do not really get around to saying how, in their opinion, the divine spiritual source can free itself from the evils of existence and how the human soul can free itself from evil. Wherever evil, pain, suffering, etc. occur in the physical world, the spiritual researcher finds that in the spiritual world all suffering appears as a germ for a development that is to take place later. We can understand this again through an analogy - [not to rely on it, because spiritual science does not rely on analogies, but on facts]: When a desperate person throws themselves in front of a speeding locomotive, two spheres of the material world collide, [which are incompatible with each other]: what is necessary for the unfortunate person to continue living is crushed, the forces of the locomotive, which are otherwise beneficial, push against each other with which they are incompatible. But if the person were to rise in time, he could be saved, and the forces of the locomotive could remain effective in a good sense. The soul of this person would be able to draw new strength from its sudden change of mind for a new beginning at the next stage of life and would be completely restored.

What is put into life is intertwined in such a way that different spheres collide. The spiritual submerges into the physical-sensual and experiences itself there quite differently than it could experience itself in the spiritual alone. As a result, the spiritual grows stronger in a way that would not have been possible without this submersion. Indeed, one could say that certain developments could not have occurred in the spiritual world if evil had not existed in the world, just as no germ of a new plant can arise without the withering away of the flower and part of the mother plant. In every painful experience there is a necessary descent, so that the germ of something new, higher and more luminous, can develop in the bosom of a sphere that is initially foreign to it, from which something must be sacrificed for this purpose, that is, for this development; and in this dying away is the necessity for all evil. In the evil and pain of this world lie the seeds for a future development.

Take, for example, monistic materialism, which has developed from natural science, particularly in the nineteenth century, and under whose ideas some of our most ideal men live as if under a heavy burden. Because this philosophy has penetrated ever deeper into the human soul, it has made it possible to see through material laws, and everyone living today is unconsciously dominated by the knowledge of these laws of material existence, which have, however, pushed back the free view into the spiritual world. And so it became possible that in the nineteenth century minds such as Schopenhauer, Hartmann and Lotze developed, which pushed towards a conception of existence that should have satisfied man, but they could not gain any ideas about the spiritual that would have been suitable to defeat the ideas of natural science in spiritual superiority. Therefore, all that is painful in the world appears inexplicable to them; they see the withering away, but not the germ of hope that lies in the withering away, which must also be found within the dying flower and germinal cover, like the consequence of pain and evil in life. Everything in the physical realm is also affected by the spiritual world. How this should show itself according to its inner nature was not, or not sufficiently, recognized by the researchers of the nineteenth century. We see how difficult it is for the most capable representatives of their time to relate to the phenomena of the world, and how they cannot find a way out with the scientific views alone in many things; we see how such minds thirst for a satisfactory perspective on existence in their innermost soul life, but that their view is clouded by the pressure of the one-sidedly understood natural sciences. For example, this is how the world appears to him: it is like the corpse of a human being whom we know to have been abandoned by his soul. But what lies before us as a corpse is incapable of developing something soulful and spiritual from itself, as if from something left over from a pre-worldly spiritual existence of a divine spiritual substance that was there at the beginning. But in its present state no germ of a new spiritual can be found. This philosopher, Mainländer, who lived in the middle of the nineteenth century, has been appreciated by Privy Councillor Max Seiling in enthusiastic words, but in the facts he is quite right. When one sees the tragedy of such a mind, one recognizes the task of spiritual science in relieving people of the oppressive burden of nineteenth-century ideas, especially in the case of such significant minds as Mainländer, who takes life so seriously, seeing in human existence only old age and evil, pain and death. In contrast to this, however, spiritual science also sees that in all this there is also something alive, the spiritual, which has sprouted towards the future and could not develop later in its special way if it had not been pushed down at times into physical life as evil and pain. From such a point of view, however, one can no longer speak of the “philosophy of pain and its redemption”; then it would be absurd to speak of this redemption - in view of the analogy already used with the plant germ, the so-called seed, for whose development often the whole mother plant, but at least a part of it, the flower and so on, must die, which one would have to regard as an evil for the latter. In the same way, the new and perfect cannot develop from a spiritual germ without evil and pain being aroused in the physical world. If we look at all this from a higher spiritual point of view, we will realize that in all our efforts to alleviate evil, we cannot be released from it in the usual sense, but must learn to endure it. If the painful and suffering in the present is sometimes quite difficult, the gratifying fruit will lie in the future and then come into effect. From such an understanding arises a tolerable, peaceful and industrious outlook on life; who knows, out of suffering, as out of a germ, in the future, the more perfect develops. He who sees the better future in a perhaps painful present, even if he does not close himself to the imperfect and ugly in active remedy. Even when the leaves and blossoms of existence fall away, the germ grows and endures beneath them, enabling a future, richer development, and we understand: what appears to us as evil and suffering in the physical world is a parallel phenomenon to what, in the spiritual world, enables a future, more perfect existence. With this view, which corresponds to reality, we can get over the bitter, the painful and the sorrowful; for in evil and the evils we see something inexplicable only in physical existence, we can only understand and thus bear it when we penetrate to the source of all these processes, to the spiritual world. There the otherwise terrible sight of the sensual-physical world is transformed.

A real and impulsive ethic is also based on all these things. Not a sermonizing of morals emerges from this, which in itself would be easy, but through this, man gets to know the source of evil and evil in the spiritual world, and this and a further urge for knowledge will lead him ever deeper and more thoroughly out of the sensual world and into the supersensible world, as its cause. Spiritual science is able to point out that all evil, all pain and suffering, will remain a mystery to human knowledge as long as their sources are seen only in the world of the senses. Only spiritual science can throw a true light on human life and on all human activity, since it calls back to the origin, which is not really present in the sense world, but teaches the correct form of evil only by showing it in its good origin, which it has in the spiritual world. To summarize, we can present what has been said today in human perception as follows: Much in the world will remain hidden to the seeking soul that does not want to go beyond the physical world in its research; it can easily fall into despair if it does not have the courage to penetrate to the very foundations where life's greatest mysteries lie hidden, to their source in the spiritual world. Spiritual science will lead people more and more to the solution of what oppresses them in their souls. They will be able to come to terms with their existence in the most diverse life situations if they know that evil and ills have their origin not only in the sense world but above all in the supersensible world, recognizing them as the germ of a better future, influenced from the spiritual world, which is also the home of their soul.

Answering questions

Question: So can life only be understood when suffering is evenly distributed?

Rudolf Steiner: When talking about oxygen, we should not expect to solve all of chemistry's questions at once. This is a different question here: the distribution of evil and evil. There is not only one life. Let us assume we have a picture: a variety of things are depicted on it, we cover everything except for one ugly thing: only when the cover is removed does it become apparent that there is something ugly in that very place. [It is the same with knowledge: if it is not merely theoretical, it is not acquired out of joy and pleasure, but out of suffering. Joy is something that is gratefully accepted in life. It is not a matter of asceticism, but anyone who has come to a realization that has permeated his entire soul and is asked, “Would you give up your joy or your pain?” would answer, “I would leave joy and pleasure if only I could keep the pain I have endured, because I owe the realization to it.” And so, when viewed from a higher standpoint, a great deal leads to a justification of suffering and pain.

Question: [Regarding] Hatred, Cruelty, Cannibalism: How can they be the sources of a good strength in the other world?

Rudolf Steiner: I did not say that, it did not even occur to me! There is no cannibalism in the spiritual world, so nothing can be developed from cannibalism in the spiritual world. One can say, for example, that a philanthropic soul would carry out all kinds of good deeds with lion power: that would be something completely different; but one must not say that the lion's power of devouring becomes philanthropy.

Rudolf Steiner: This question is asking me to answer with a simple “yes” or “no”: No.

Question: What is good and what is evil?

Rudolf Steiner: To ask this question after today's lecture seems a bit strange. It is an educational habit of the last few centuries that one asks: What is this? What is that? — What is actually contained in this “what”? One does not notice how shortsighted such questions are. But the question can be deepened. As the question is asked, one cannot answer with an absolute definition. From the whole of life, one should explain every phenomenon of life. So, if good is to be explained, yes, many definitions can really be found. For example: Good is that which is so placed in life that the life of this person is most promoted; or what best satisfies one's own conscience, and so on and so on. Someone may come along and say that evil is something fluid, or time, or a tribe. But that is not what it is about, whether in a partial or general sense; one must try to explain it as has been done today. Question: Good and evil: [Is there no difference]?

Rudolf Steiner: There is nothing to be done with this question either. Gravity, which is extraordinarily beneficial when it drives the earth around the sun, can cause evil as an avalanche rolling down from the mountain. The lecture was not intended to teach reevaluation in a different sphere, but change into a different sphere [hinein]. Even if people do not know what evil they do, that is not the point: it is completely irrelevant whether something happens consciously or unconsciously in the sphere of decay. The lecture was not an apology for evil, as if to say: Those who are truly evil are the best, because they have the gift of clear-sighted good. It was not stated that the best person is the great criminal, but rather that there is no “beyond good and evil” in the sensual world, only in the supersensible world.

The subject of our lecture today may at first seem surprising. But Theosophy does not just want to bring messages of supersensory research, but wants to let them flow into human life, bringing strength and the joy of working for life. It wants to be a kind of art of living, albeit under certain conditions. It is not something that wants to be quickly established, but rather, Theosophy draws from sources of deep knowledge. Therefore, it cannot seek to win over many people; it is not a doctrine that wants to be promoted with fanaticism to broad circles. [A movement of this kind must keep its distance from fanaticism.] The theosophist must make the opposite of fanaticism his most important quality – [understanding of people should be the theosophist's hallmark.] He must be able to penetrate [into the souls of others], into the souls of opponents [and gain understanding for the justified refutations].

And who would want to deny that there is much to be said against Theosophy in a deeply justified way? After all, Theosophy or spiritual science speaks of the most sacred and dignified matters, and does so more to the heart than to reason. And the heart is easily inclined to surrender to things that might speak of an increase in vitality. To penetrate into the depths of what Theosophy means, a long journey is necessary, which by no means all those who agree with the Theosophical life out of the heart take.

If someone approaches Theosophy in our time, it must be admitted that this is very difficult. One concern after another piles up. Therefore, a scientifically educated person in particular cannot easily find his way around – with a genuine sense of truth. In addition, there are many things today that are called Theosophy, but which are not very useful. Therefore, the elementary principles of what we would like to call Theosophy should be described first, [before moving on to the concerns].

First of all, we must be clear about the structure of the human being. Man does not consist only of the physical body, not only of what we can perceive with our brain-bound mind, but it must be asserted that the physical body is integrated with a sum of higher, supersensible , namely, first of all, the etheric or life body, by which the physical body is permeated throughout. The etheric body ensures that the physical body does not follow the forces of the external physical world. It only follows these forces when it is abandoned by the etheric body at death. Then the physical forces act on the components of the human body and cause them to disintegrate and dissolve. The existence of this etheric body can be determined through clairvoyant research. But it can also be seen that it is necessary, that we need a fighter against the otherwise inevitable physical decay. Other living beings are also endowed with an etheric body as long as they are living beings. Plants also have it.

In addition to this, human beings also have a consciousness soul or an astral body. This we have in common with the animal world. It is the carrier of all the drives, passions and desires we have in our lives. What we no longer have in common with animals is what we call our human sense of self. The fact that we can say “I” to ourselves makes us human beings the pinnacle of creation. From the moment when the child becomes capable of saying “I” to itself, our human consciousness, our memory begins. We therefore distinguish between a physical body, etheric body, astral body and the I.

But that is not the only way in which Theosophy differs from the generally held view. It also considers the inner core of a person's being, the I, to be more than just an earthly existence between birth and death. Theosophy seeks to show that not everything that is expressed through the I in a person has been determined in just one lifetime. Rather, this central core of the human being comes from earlier stages of existence. In a sense, the human being forms his own body before he fully enters it with his sense of self. Then there is the further claim of Theosophy: After death, the human being only discards his physical shell, but the core of his being also lives on after physical death, only to enter into a renewed physical life later on.

The changing fortunes of human beings can only be understood by grasping the repeated lives of the same human being on earth. We see one person living a miserable and unhappy life, while another is happy. Science must ask about the causes of this tremendous inequality of life's destinies. Spiritual science claims that a person has built his own destiny in his previous life; depending on how he lives now, his following destiny in the future life will be shaped.

That it can be so is already evident to a certain degree from the course of his present life. If someone emigrates to America, for example, his fate will essentially be shaped by what he was in Europe. What he has learned here will be very important for his progress and the way he lives over there. Whether he was a shoemaker or a banker here, for example, will have a very significant influence on the way he lives his life over there. But after he has been in America for a while, he will have learned new things and will have become a different person. In order for a person to mature, different destinies are necessary; this cannot possibly all happen in a single life between birth and death. The fruits of our previous lives ripen for us in the present life, and what we learn now will benefit our later life.

Theosophy thus teaches the immortality of the central core of the human being. Between death and a new birth, the soul goes through very different, purely spiritual states of longer duration.

Regarding the state of sleep, Theosophy says that in this state, the physical and etheric bodies remain in the bed; the astral body and the ego, that is, that which is the carrier of consciousness, emerges and lives during sleep in supersensible worlds.

The whole appears as a closed system. We will see in what way theosophy draws its knowledge of this system. This happens through clairvoyant research. How do you acquire this ability? It can be said that these clairvoyant powers can be awakened in man through meditation. In this way, the soul can be made into an instrument of spiritual research, and indeed into a research that is just as exact and methodical as the research that chemists and physicists use physical means for to study matter. In this way, dormant powers are brought to the surface within the human being. We recall Goethe's words about the spiritual eyes and spiritual ears that can be opened in man.

Having said this, we turn to the objections to Theosophy. Of course, we cannot exhaust all the objections to Theosophy. We will only consider a few that may present serious and significant difficulties for an honest conviction. If you are completely under the spell of modern science, you may come to the following conclusion when you first study Theosophy; you can [rightly] say: Yes, I believe that women who are not critically minded [who do not critically examine science but follow the urge of the heart] and have not learned to think logically, can have their world puzzles solved by this spiritual science. And, as far as I am concerned, the same applies to men who do not know science. Just note this: you believe that you need an etheric body as the carrier of the life forces in the body. Do you not know that you are thereby amateurishly reaching back into the time when it was assumed that organically formed substances could not be produced in the laboratory, but only in the living organism? Therefore, in those days, it had to be assumed that special vital forces were at work in all living things. But progressive research [in the nineteenth century] has shown that the simplest of these substances can be produced in the laboratory by purely chemical means, just as they can in a living organism. This dealt a fatal blow to the old doctrine of the life force – vis vitalis – or life ether, because it proved, albeit initially only in the simplest of organisms, that the organic structure of nature is built in the same way as the non-living, inorganic. It is a very serious and worthy thought that once the beginning of the chemical production of the organic has been made, it will continue, even if few substances can be produced in this way at present. This is experimental proof that the same laws apply to the inanimate as to the animate. It is therefore ignorance when Theosophy still speaks of the fact that life in a body can only be explained by a life body. Such a researcher can say: What subtle research had to gradually strive to elucidate, you theosophists simply want to make easy with your fantastic life body. You claim that it is visible to the supersensible faculty of cognition, but the above proves that it is not needed at all, it is not necessary. But it must be a serious first requirement for serious knowledge that it makes no unnecessary assumptions. He who weighs things as theosophists should do, should feel that there is much earnestness and dignity in such an objection.

But let us look further. Theosophy claims that an astral body and an ego are needed to explain the phenomena of consciousness. We can indeed concede what even strict researchers such as Du Bois-Reymond say, that what we experience in us as inner life is not possible from purely material processes within the brain. So let us assume that we have to do without an explanation for the time being and write the famous “Ignorabimus” below it. But is it justified to say that when something different, something supersensory, emerges from matter, that this is an independent entity? An opponent of Theosophy could say this with some justification. He could point to magnetic forces, which do indeed emanate from an inorganic substance, the magnet, and are bound to it. So after all, a supersensible power such as magnetism is produced out of material substance. Furthermore, it is no different with the development of the other forces, for example, with the force of gravity that is bound to the planets. Why should it not be the same with what we scientifically know as states of excitation of the brain, and what takes place in the consciousness and inner life of man? There is absolutely no compulsion to explain the phenomena of consciousness differently. Even what has not yet been researched can be explained in this way. In any case, the hasty assumption of an astral body to explain these processes is amateurish. Even where we are still forced to remain ignorant, we must wait patiently for serious research to say something about it.

What used to be the horror of horrors in science, the so-called theory of potentialities [in psychology], lies behind us. There, a system was built on the premise that if the soul can think, then it has the potential to think. It can feel, so it has the potential to feel. According to this, the soul was a system of nothing but nested concepts of capacity, without realizing that they had not explained anything, but had only put words in the place of something. Now the opponent can say: Isn't your astral and etheric body just as much something nested and unrecognized as the old doctrine of capacity was? Such a thing can rightly be objected.

So Theosophy is not for someone who stands on the ground of in-depth modern scientific knowledge. To such a person, Theosophy appears to be somewhat dilettantish compared to the demands of rigorous research. Furthermore, Theosophy says: During sleep, the astral body and the ego leave the human body with the consciousness. Since they are not present with what remains in bed, they must still be found somewhere. Where else should they be present than in a spiritual world? On the other hand, serious science asks: Is it necessary to invoke a special, supernatural explanation for this state of sleep when the scientifically given explanations are sufficient? It is perfectly possible to explain sleep quite simply. The scientifically applied method views the matter quite differently. It says: When we are awake, the organism wears out. Toxins are formed as a result of the activity carried out by the excited brain during the waking state. When so many toxins have accumulated, they kill consciousness through mechanical or chemical action, which means that sleep sets in. Now it is not the organs that otherwise generate consciousness that are at work, but other organs that continue to work in the human being, which in turn destroy the poisons in the body that the activity of the organs of consciousness has produced, and so on. Such a self-regulatory hypothesis is entirely possible. But if it is possible to explain the alternation of sleep and waking with it, then it is not permissible to say anything else about it. The theosophical theory is at least a daring assumption. The true facts will only be able to be explained gradually, and until then one must stick to the obvious and simplest explanation of these phenomena.

What about the theosophical assertion of the repetition of earthly lives? Theosophy shows how man develops from childhood; this cannot possibly be explained by mere inheritance. Children of the same parents are fundamentally different, and so on. Therefore, something must be added that is not inherited, that is already present in the life germ of the newborn human being, and that can only be explained by repeated lives on earth. For example, twins can be different despite simultaneous inheritance.

The scientific objection to this is as follows: What constitutes the essence of a person is not something that is inherited from a single father or mother, but from a long chain of ancestors. If Theosophy now says: If you attribute everything to heredity, why is there any individuality at all in the development of each person? The objection is as follows: People must therefore be different because so many different influences flow into each individual's life, [which has a transforming effect on people from early childhood on]. Genius is a particularly good example of this. It emerges, endowed with special qualities, which we can, however, already find in the various ancestors. In the case of genius, they are then combined as a grand total. Brentano explains the soul work in geniuses as being able to quickly piece thoughts together, and thus only in a certain increase over ordinary human thought activity. This easier mobility in the brain molecules can only be inherited. The spiritual researcher says, however, This is actually not very logical. The genius is at the end of an inheritance line; it should be at the beginning of the same if it is to be inherited by the descendants. The objection [against this] of the easier excitability in the brain of the genius must apply, and it can therefore be concluded on the part of science: this increased excitability causes the brain to wear down more quickly. Is it any wonder that the reproductive process is affected in a genius, because his brain wears down more quickly? This is a legitimate objection. However, modern science is particularly suspicious of what is referred to as clairvoyant talent. We have to admit that extrasensory experiences do exist. Such perceptions are different from natural perception. This also occurs pathologically in what we usually call hallucinations, for example. It is therefore not surprising when the scientist says: Where is the possibility to recognize the truth and establish objective facts? How do we know that these are not simply subjective experiences? The strict scientist is careful to only call scientifically that which can be objectively verified. But the strict scientific epistemological methods are not applicable to the results of training in the humanities. What supposedly presents itself to the clairvoyant is only a world of images. Even in pathological conditions, it is only reminiscences of reality. It turns out, for example, that clairvoyants have only been able to see a train since trains have existed. In books about clairvoyant experiences, we only ever find what was actually present at the time, combined just a little differently. After all, it is combined from the warmth and cold, light and shade of real life. For example, it is said that the astral body is blue, red, yellow and so on, just like the known physical paints. These are the colors of the physical as they are seen, so nothing new. Such appearances have a pathological background, are only hallucinations and really add nothing new to our knowledge. The mere ability to combine external properties is quite sufficient to explain them.

Theosophists must understand that such objections arise from the deepest, most earnest deliberation of precisely the most serious contemporaries. Those who have grown old in scientific ideas are not easily convinced by theosophical objections.

But Theosophy also comes with religious, moral and ethical ideas and impulses. Can that be right?

The first objection that comes to mind is this: if Theosophy views life in such a way that the present life is seen as the result of past experiences, then interest in life itself wanes. Such a view thus amounts to an education in fatalism. It is a paralysis of life when you can think, “I have time; there are many lives ahead of me.” The objection is actually trivial to take, but it is practically correct, because people are indeed casual by nature.

And the prospect of a supersensible world, how does it express itself ethically? Necessarily in such a way that interest in practical life diminishes. You can see this, for example, in the artist who does not want to devote himself to the practical. Such a view of life makes one ascetic, hostile to life, and paralyzing instead of stimulating. One often sees wonderful people among the Theosophists who live in a kind of cloud-cuckoo-land. Women in particular are easily found to have become self-indulgent and out of touch with reality. This cannot be logically refuted, but only through life itself.

Furthermore, one could say: You have made ethics a result of selfishness. Whoever does good, according to your view, expects a reward in karmic compensation. Whoever does evil, or wants to do evil, refrains from it out of fear of the corresponding evil in the next life. So the doctrine of karma is actually a doctrine of education? A higher form of selfishness! What a person sows, he must reap - [this] is ultimately a selfish principle of life. Thus, Theosophy is also ethically and morally life-threatening.

Furthermore, you transfer divine world justice into the human being himself by letting him work out his destiny in various earthly lives. You thereby transfer that which otherwise lives in the Godhead outside of us as a punishing or rewarding God into the human being himself. Man is thereby deified. Where is the free love of God when the divine is transferred into one's own inner being? Into the inner being of man? - The opponent can say: It is in contradiction to a truly religious world view when one transfers the self-sacrifice of God, the redemption of man out of divine grace, into the inner being of man himself.

Such objections could be multiplied many times over. Devotion to an external God is a fundamental condition of ethics and religion, and this finds no justification in Theosophy. This is how it can be expressed; and we must learn to understand this fully as Theosophists, only then can we keep ourselves free from fanaticism. Only the most important guidelines could be given here. They should also teach us tolerance towards our opponents. We should not try to beat them out of the field, but above all strive to learn to understand them.

Let us now show by way of example how this is to be understood. In 1868, the philosopher Eduard von Hartmann wrote a book called “The Philosophy of the Unconscious”. Although some of it is unmethodical and flawed and not useful to us, it is based on certain spiritual principles and touches on deep existential issues. This book caused quite a stir when it was published. It was, after all, the time of the reign of the most blatant materialism. This book strangely touched the fanatical materialists such as Haeckel and other Darwinists. They found the book extremely amateurish. Many counter-writings against the book were published. But one anonymous refutation caused a particularly great stir. It presented everything that could be objected to Eduard von Hartmann's book in such a methodical and complete way, and with such keen insight, that Oscar Schmidt, for example, said: “It's a shame that the unknown author didn't identify himself.” Haeckel himself said, “He should identify himself, and we will consider him one of our own.” Soon the second edition of this writing was necessary. This time the anonymous author named himself: it was Eduard von Hartmann! This second edition did not have the same success with Hartmann's opponents – [their praise soon died down.]

This is a good example of how one can see beyond one's opponent and judge more correctly in the opponent's interest than the opponent himself.

Much more could be said, but for now we must be satisfied with what has been said. It does not take the worst to be seen sprouting from Theosophy. We must therefore endeavor to learn to understand our opponents.

I have tried to show how Theosophy can be refuted. The day after tomorrow it should become clear whether the refutation is final or whether, nevertheless, reasons can be put forward that will be valid against this fight - which, as we have seen, can be waged with a certain justification.

It could be called frivolous if we first tried to refute Theosophy and then tried to justify it, since the lecturer apparently does not believe in the refutation itself.

But I believe in it in all seriousness! It is not a matter of refuting refutations for me, but rather I would like to use it to point out important things about great riddles of knowledge. In a certain sense, I believe in the correctness and weight of the objections raised. To illustrate what I mean, I would like to tell you a little story.

In a village, the young son of a family was chosen to get the daily rolls needed for the family from the baker. He was always given [ten] kreutzers for the trip. This young son was not very good at math and therefore didn't care much about how many rolls he got for the six kreutzers. Now, however, a foster son came to live with the family for a while, and he was good at math. This foster son now started calculating how many rolls he could get for six. Since a roll cost two kreutzers in that town, he should have gotten five rolls. But the boy had brought six rolls. The foster son was surprised and said: “That's not right, two times five is ten. So he only gets five rolls.” But the next day there were six rolls again, despite the foster son's correct calculation. How did this fit together? It was customary in that place to give a roll for every ten kreutzers. There the puzzle was solved. So it was true, even though the calculation was correct. The result of the calculation had nothing to do with the correctness of the matter. Both were correct in themselves, although they did not agree with each other. Just as I myself believed in the correctness of the calculation as the little boy I was, so I also believe today in the correctness of the objections to Theosophy that I put forward. Objections and refutations have a certain quality, namely that they can be correct without the matter itself necessarily being wrong. Perhaps I will be reproached for one thing, namely, that I present some things in a lively way and speak with the same pathos for and against.

But if the things themselves are right, then they can also be presented with the same vivacity. It is generally easier and more convenient to criticize than to justify. I would like to illustrate this with an example.

The editor-in-chief of a major newspaper had the intention of publishing an interesting weekly supplement. However, there were only a few suitable editors for such a paper who could write in a witty and interesting enough way to really captivate the audience he was aiming for. But since he was a clever man, he knew how to help himself. A number of talented young gentlemen were employed to do nothing all week but sit in coffee houses and read newspapers, and then they simply had to refute every article that interested them. With what was collected, the man filled his weekly paper, and it was read with pleasure and sold well, because a witty critique is something that appeals to people. Something of a critic tingles in every soul. In this occupation, the young gentlemen have all become brilliant polemicists and some of them now hold respected positions.

This is to show that it is not at all difficult to refute something, to criticize it, if you don't want anything more.

Our task today is more difficult, because we want to show how to establish the theosophy.

Let us first address the objection that it is amateurish to assume that an etheric body should be added to the physical body. I would remind you of what has been said about the life force theory, which has long been scientifically overcome. When it became possible to assemble material structures in the laboratory, the way was clear for the displacement of the life force. And it may be said that a time will come when it will also be possible to chemically produce higher and highest organic structures in laboratories. Therefore, it can only be described as ignorance when, in the face of such scientific progress, Theosophy still talks about a completely superfluous ether or life body.

However, one point should be emphasized. Many people consider the great Gotthold Ephraim Lessing to be an especially enlightened mind. Furthermore, one would certainly subscribe to the following sentence today: No one can be considered enlightened who is not opposed to belief in ghosts. But now Lessing says the following:

We no longer believe in ghosts? Who says that? Or rather, what does that mean?

[...] In this matter, on which almost as much can be said for as against it, which is not decided and cannot be decided, the currently prevailing way of thinking has given the reasons against it the upper hand; a few have this way of thinking, and many want to ; they make the noise and set the tone; the greatest multitude remains silent and indifferent, thinking one way or another, hearing in broad daylight with pleasure about the ghosts mocking and telling with horror at dark night.

There is no evidence against it, only our thought patterns have changed. The same applies to the life force theory. Our thought patterns about it have changed. However, this does not provide any proof against it.

And the same applies to the scientific objection: we do not need an etheric body. That is also just a change in thinking, which can change again into the opposite, as we can see often enough. In the past, people even believed that they could artificially create a whole, small human being, the so-called homunculus. Nevertheless, the above objection would apply even more, since we see that it is precisely the homunculus-believing human race that completely believes in a supernatural world. In a room with a lot of dirt, there are usually a lot of flies. In the past, this was explained by assuming that the flies came from the dirt. Now we know that dirt only creates the conditions; it makes it easy for flies to enter.

In the same way, owing to different habits of thought, it was formerly easy for the supersensible to enter into the sphere of human activity.

By chance I bought a Freidenkerkalender (Freethinker's Calendar) the other day, in which I found an essay by a freethinking person. This man is not opposed to Theosophy, of which he hopefully knows nothing, but he is against teaching children from an early age to believe in a supernatural world. Before falling asleep, one prays with them that a divine spirit will protect them, and so on. This is nonsense, against which the man seems to be very much opposed. He rails against it and says that today we should not want to force things on children that children do not have of their own accord. — It can only be recommended that we draw the obvious conclusion from this. Children do not come up with language on their own either. Therefore, the man should actually be opposed to teaching children language. But why has the man not drawn such conclusions? The reason is that this man is simply extremely opposed to everything supernatural. He wants to prove everywhere the falsity of the supersensible and therefore does not pay attention to logical arguments. To condemn everything supersensible has become a habit of thinking that he cannot get out of, even if he wanted to - but he does not want to. This is often the case in life. In the end, it is not logical arguments that decide the matter, but habits of thinking.

This raises the question: Is there a way to develop such thinking habits that can be developed into justified habits? Real science posits the principle that only those things should be put forward by the scientist that can be verified by anyone at any time. According to modern science, this is precisely what Theosophy cannot do. For Theosophy refers to sources that the soul develops through itself through the means of meditation. Intimate inner processes transform the soul, and then spiritual eyes and spiritual ears awaken in it. One no longer judges with the ordinary sensory instruments that are accessible to everyone. But strict science must exclude precisely what has only subjective validity.

This is an objection that can only be decided through experience. It must therefore be determined, firstly, whether it is true that science only decides objectively. Secondly, is it true that spiritual science decides subjectively?

Now, the first requirement does not apply to scientific research everywhere. In mathematics, for example, not everyone can verify the matter at any time. Everyone knows that the Pythagorean theorem is correct. But not everyone needs to be able to verify it. However, those who cannot verify it because they do not understand enough mathematics do not prove anything against it.

Mathematics, however, only brings truths that relate to relationships. But whether the results of mathematical science also relate to and prove true in the objective world [...] depends on other things.

Mathematical structures do not occur in nature. There is no such thing as a triangle in itself, nor a mathematically correct circle, and so on. This can never be represented externally, but it can be calculated and imagined internally.

Does this not agree with clairvoyant experience? [Only the lowest levels of the soul experience appear subjective. Those who go further always come to the same experiences. Mathematics is regarded as a living factor in the supersensible worlds, as Plato and others felt.

It can be said that the human organism is “I-ized” in the same way that one can say that God “geometrizes”.

I would like to give you an example of the effectiveness of the supersensible in the physical body. If we observe a person who strives for knowledge - not just a scientist, but a searching, wrestling, internalized soul - when we see such a person again after not having seen him for ten years, we notice a change in his features. We see, then, how the relatively small amount of supersensible work is externally imprinted on his body. Such a change can even indicate a certain kind of inner struggle to the psychologist. But there is a limit to the elasticity of the body. When there is no more room for the outer transformation of the features, then the solutions to the riddles with which one has been struggling come to the person. This can be clearly stated. Inner experience first expresses itself in the outer sensory world of the human being, only then can it enter into consciousness.

How does this compare to the experiences of a student of spiritual science?

The clairvoyant training must create conscious sleep states. By making consciousness possible even during sleep, it can bring powers into consciousness that would otherwise be too weak to do so. So only will-ideas that are not stimulated by anything external. Such training can take a long time. But when it becomes effective, a certain experience can be determined. For the student, inner experiences come, at first like a dream that cannot be grasped. One then feels a resistance from one's own brain. This gradually gives way. Then comes the time when one can transform what one has sensed into concepts. At first it is like a child, one does not really know about it, then it gradually increases to a conscious experience. The clairvoyant then experiences things that present themselves through themselves inwardly as immediate certainty, as inwardly objective. And all clairvoyants experience the same thing in this.

So what is spiritual science based on? Not on something that can be verified by everyone, but on the fact that there is a possibility to grow into the spiritual being itself and thereby draw truth directly from our inner being. Once you have realized that there is a supernatural, then the objections to it are quite different. They are objectively correct objections that cannot be refuted.

Take, for example, the objection that the theosophical explanation for the sleeping state is not needed at all because the self-regulator theory explains the processes much more simply. But there are other self-regulators besides sleep. The clock, for example, is an excellent self-regulator, but – as no one will deny – it can only come about through the activity of thought, through the mind of the watchmaker. Why should the same not also apply to humans? We see, then, that the objection itself is correct, but that it is not at all applicable, since nothing can be decided by it.

But there are still the ethical and moral objections to Theosophy. What about them? The objection to the doctrine of karma, that it can lead to selfishness because good deeds are followed by reward and bad deeds by punishment, is in a way true. It can lead to someone not doing good for the sake of good, but for the sake of reward. Now Schopenhauer once said: “Preaching morality is easy, justifying morality is difficult.” With a mere moral sermon that man should do good, you won't achieve much in general. It's a bit like if someone were to say to the stove: “Dear stove, it is your destiny, your moral duty, to heat the room; so please, be so good and act accordingly.” If nothing else happens, it will probably remain cold inside the stove. But if you take wood and light a fire in the stove, you will achieve the purpose of the stove more quickly and effectively.

Of course, preaching helps people a little more than a stove, but usually not much more. Justifying morals – igniting the inner fire in people – is more important. So let the law of karma first quietly work on people's selfishness and thus ignite them for good. The main thing is that the purpose is achieved. One could also say of a couple that they only educate their children well out of selfishness. Should they therefore rather not do so? The main thing is that the children become well-behaved people as a result of the good education. Even if the parents have only thought of themselves and the personal comforts that well-behaved children can bring them, love for the educational work will come naturally. Thus, goodness can initially arise from selfish motives, and then, through the habit of doing good, selflessness will arise naturally from selfishness.

Now, let us take the case of someone who says, “We will come back anyway, so why bother now? I want to enjoy my life now, I still have time in later life to become a decent person.” If we believe in the law of karma, we must realize that such an attitude will have its consequences for the next life. The consequence will be that his present behavior, even his intention to become decent, will make it difficult for him.

Then we have other objections. It is said that the clairvoyant borrows his ideas only from the physical world, just as in hallucinations. These are only reminiscences of ordinary sensual things, but clothed in fantastically confused form, just as, for example, primitive religions derive their idea of God from man, and so on.

Now, however, a spiritual connection between three people can be proven by clairvoyance, one of whom is dead. There are many such well-attested experiences. I will tell you, as I always do, only one real event that happened exactly as it happened and can be verified.

A couple lived with their son, but the son became ill and died after one day. That was a heavy blow for the parents. They were therefore very busy with the son. After months, both parents dreamt the same dream. The son appeared to them and told them that he had been buried alive. They told each other about the dream the next morning, and it turned out that they had both experienced the same thing in their dream, that they had both had the same dream. They now wanted to be sure and have it dug up. Unfortunately, the authorities prevented the digging, but the fact remains that both had the same dream. Now a dream is not yet reality, but in such cases dreams are the realization of what shines into consciousness from the supersensible worlds.

How this is to be understood can be seen from the well-known dream of the farmer's wife who, in her dream, seems to hear an edifying sermon by the pastor and, upon awakening, hears the cock crow that has awakened her and thereby, in the returning consciousness of a sermon, has aroused the image of a sermon, since she had thought of the pastor's edifying words before falling asleep. Dream images are determined by our attitudes and experiences. From this it is clear that even clairvoyant descriptions, despite being given in everyday images, can contain correct, supersensible experiences. Otherwise one could also say: I see nothing in a book but black letters and printer's ink. What you read from it, I cannot find in it at all.

This may be true for someone who cannot read within, but in terms of content, it is out of the question for someone who has learned to read.

We now come to the religious objections: from the self-deification of man through theosophy. The fact that one transfers God into one's own inner being, while true religiosity requires devotion to an external God, leads to self-exaltation, in that it tempts man to say: I am a god myself.

This is again a not entirely unjustified objection. But we can also say what, based on a living feeling, expresses the theosophical truth. You have a divine spark within you, undeveloped, in a germinal state. You must develop this more and more. It is therefore a breach of duty against the God in you if you do not constantly strive for perfection.

It is not enough for the theosophist to passively surrender to God – as some pious Christians do – but he must demand active devotion, as the Pauline saying goes: “Not I, but the Christ in me”.

So then, deification looks somewhat different, because it constantly leads to impulses for perfection, transforming man's self-righteousness into an eternal imperative of duty.

Here again you see: the objection need not be refuted, nevertheless what Theosophy has to say stands on solid ground. For it is true: the seeking soul does not have to deny itself when it longs for immortality, but finds outside what lives within itself.

Answering questions: What is the position of spiritual science regarding Swedenborg?

Rudolf Steiner: Swedenborg is like a person who has a spot in his eye and therefore cannot see clearly. He shot at the defect of his eye. It is often said, and even more often believed, that spiritual insight precludes a scientific education. But Swedenborg only became a spiritual researcher after he had already had an outstanding scientific career. His spiritual vision is even more important to him, as he can make all the objections of others himself. This is a crux for scientists, that someone is first a great experimentalist, then deals with occultism. They then say that he was simply no longer scientific later on, so one must distinguish between a healthy-thinking morning crux and a crazy-thinking afternoon crux! Of course, we cannot rely on Swedenborg in every detail, but he did see into the spiritual world. At the same time, however, he is an example of how spiritual organs can show a person what is wrong. Both the saying “Man errs, as long as he strives” and the saying “A good person in his dark urges is well aware of the right path” apply here. For ultimately, the human being is designed for truth and not for untruth.

Question: What about freedom of will?

Rudolf Steiner: Please read my Philosophy of Freedom.

Question: How can consciousness be present when the human being is free of the body?

Rudolf Steiner: First of all, we need to be clear about what we mean by “consciousness”. It is only since Descartes that we have spoken of “consciousness” in the abstract; before that, we spoke more of the soul and soul forces. Today we even have a “philosophy of the unconscious”, but consciousness is nevertheless a property of the soul. During the night, the soul is present, even if not conscious. One cannot manage with Wundt's abstract definition: the soul is the unity of the phenomena of consciousness. Outside of the body, however, the processes also become conscious; through spiritual development one even attains a higher state of consciousness. This is carried into the ordinary consciousness like a memory, and in a sense only becomes conscious in thinking. Otherwise it would be like dreams that a person does not remember. Beginners often say: I do not experience anything in the spiritual worlds, even though I do exercises. They can still experience an enormous amount, but just do not remember it in their ordinary consciousness. This is also necessary for some things. It is good fate for people that the moral law flows down to them unconsciously.

Question: What about thinking horses and Rolf, the dog from Mannheim? The animal is said to be able to calculate a root of a seven-digit number in five minutes, which would take a mathematician two hours.

Rudolf Steiner: I have not seen the Elberfeld horses, so I cannot speak about them. I have only seen the horse of Mr. von Osten, Clever Hans, but that was enough to give me an idea of these complicated things. A private lecturer gave a very materialistic explanation, even though such explanations are considered idealistic. He says that it has to do with the subtle play of features on the face of the person setting the arithmetic problem. He only said that he had studied facial expressions for a decade, but that here it was about such fine movements in the human face that even he could not follow them, but the animal could. So it takes ten years to judge a person, and then there is a facial expression that only a horse can judge, not even a horse breeder.

The truth is that when you are out of the body, the body mathematizes; you leave the mathematics behind in the body, and then you watch it. The horse can do that too. It is connected with currents that go around the earth. This can lead to the development of latent abilities that would not otherwise be developed. We should not be too mocking of these things, otherwise the world could be somewhat astonished by them after all.

The question has been raised as to what lies behind the now so famous horses of Elberfeld which are able to count and do sums, and also possess other kinds of wisdom. Let me say from the very outset that I am not personally acquainted with the facts relating to the horses of Elberfeld that can calculate and do other tricks, for I have never been there, but I have made the acquaintance of Herr von Osten's “clever Hans”, a horse similar to those of Elberfeld which caused such a sensation in Berlin for a long time.

Indeed, it is surprising to see that while the whole of Berlin was at that time really interested in “clever Hans” for quite a long while, this interest should have died out so soon. The short duration of people's interest in something is a very characteristic feature of the present time.

Very interesting experiences could be made in connection with this horse. To begin with, all who heard of such things for the first time were quite skeptical, until they decided to observe these facts more closely, since the information concerning the fine things performed by “clever Hans” seemed to be quite reliable. He could do excellent sums, extract roots, etc.; he also found out the right card in a card trick, and so forth. In fact, we may say that gradually it became impossible to deny that something extraordinary was taking place. The owner of the horse called in strangers, experts, trainers, tamers of wild animals, etc. He also invited a commission of philosophers. Finally a pamphlet appeared, written by a philologist, a certain Dr. Pfunge—a most interesting pamphlet. After rejecting everything that the people who were present had said, the philologist came to the following conclusion: “It is of course obvious that ‘clever Hans’ cannot do sums, but Herr von Osten, or others who set him a task, influence him in some way.” And these influences had to be explained as materialistically as possible. That an influence can actually pass from soul to soul was something which modern professors no longer admit, for philologists have already entirely forgotten the soul. Our honorable philologists nevertheless admit that there can be certain influences—namely, influences which are as materialistic as possible. They assume, for instance, that a person may make an almost imperceptible gesture, which influences the animal. For instance, the animal may be set the task of finding out the square root of 16. Very slight gestures are made, expressing what the person thinks, expressing what the square root of 16 is. The horse perceives these gestures and by stamping his foot it indicates the square root of 16. This explanation is entirely realistic. Herr von Osten then called in animal experts. These experts, versed in every trick and gesture of the finest kind, were not able to perceive anything of the fine shadings which according to the professors, might influence the animal. These people who were really able to understand how an animal obeys at a glance, could not discover such gestures, so that we must say: These almost imperceptible gestures can only be perceived by someone who has worked for years in a physiological or philological laboratory! For the deep explanation had been given that only a professor who has worked for years in a laboratory can perceive what horses are able to perceive! Such an explanation, however, rescued materialism. This is truly a curiosity—to question every psychic influence, and to assert that a horse knows immediately when a professor learns to know after years of work in a physiological laboratory!

This question should however be considered more seriously. I should like to explain to you the conclusion which I have reached. Nevertheless I must point out that what I shall now tell you must be described absolutely as a hypothesis, just because this question is so extraordinarily complicated. Nevertheless it is a hypothesis, but I think that further a occult investigations will support it. If we consider the whole matter, we shall find that it is really a most complicated thing, and we shall come across extraordinary phenomena. Consequently I have the courage merely to draw up a kind of hypothesis, and occult hypothesis concerning the whole question, as the result of observations which I was able to make while watching Herr von Osten at work with his horse. I feel sure that later on this hypothesis will be confirmed by a occult investigation.

I discovered that mathematical thinking, the whole mathematical conception, is something far more objective than one generally thinks. The whole mathematical thinking is something which works like a kind of automaton, namely in the following way: The foundation of mathematical thinking can be explained by the fact that all mathematical concepts are contained in the structure of the whole earth. The earth is not that undifferentiated body theoretically thought out by people. It has an extraordinarily fine structure and influences from inside the beings inhabiting it. In a human being, the mathematical ability is principally dependent on three channels situated in the middle ear, which are connected with the sense of equilibrium. In the case of man there is a kind of connection between this organ situated in the ear and the whole nervous system constituting the spinal cord. If a human being arrives at mathematical conclusions, we are able to observe that he is really a spectator to a far greater extent than we generally imagine. For mathematical conclusions are formed, as it were, by themselves, and particularly in the sphere of mathematics the human being is more a kind of automaton. Hence it is a peculiar feature of mathematics that we really feel impelled to develop it as it were a kind of automaton. In our system we count as far as 10. Then we count the tens, etc. In this way a whole system of reckoning becomes inwardly automatized. Numbers really contain an inner system of laws which is connected with the Earth through a kind of mathematical automatism. This automatism does not work so strongly in man, because the human being is lifted out of it through his power of judgment, which keeps in check the whole mathematical automatism. Now it is strange to see that in “clever Hans” the whole spiritual atmosphere of the horse acts in such a way that at the slightest instigation, with the slightest tap, the whole atmosphere of the earth is struck, as it were ... Through the different positions of his spine, as compared with man's, the horse participates in the life of the earth, and the force which really thinks in him is, after all, the earth. The earth thinks through the whole instrument of the horse. Thus we really obtain the following impression! On the one hand is Herr von Osten, who does not need to calculate the various mathematical problems which he gives to the horse, but merely touches upon something mathematical. In doing so, he becomes incorporated within the mathematical automaton of the earth. This passes into the horse's spine and the horse is then able to express it quite independently through its soul life. But the earth is the one that transmits this soul element. Never have I become aware so strongly of the way in which the mathematical automaton can be transmitted, as in the case of “clever Hans.”

Thus we may see the cooperation between Herr von Osten's soul-element and the soul-element of the whole earth. I could not help thinking: If we run a wire to the ground, in the case of a telegraphic apparatus, all we need is another wire in order to connect it with another apparatus. Now the earth cooperates as a whole, as a totality. All we need is to install the connecting wire, in which case the earth as well will be involved as an apparatus. In the mechanical sphere the result would be that a definite signal which retransmits through the keys of one apparatus will appear again as a signal on the other apparatus. But in the case of what fills the earth, in the case of the mathematical automaton, there will be a connection which may really be termed as subterranean, a kind of connecting wire between Earth and the one who is in contact with the horse. The horse must allow itself to be connected with the whole apparatus of the earth.

Let me add, for the sake of comparison, something which I was able to observe in this connection many years ago. I made the acquaintance of several small boys—not all at once, but successively. One of them was a very stupid boy in every subject, but if he was given an arithmetical example—for instance, to extract the root of a number consisting of six or seven figures—he was able to solve this problem. He could multiply very large numbers together. A famous professor of mathematics once set him the task of raising a number of four digits to square. The professor had to work out the solution, but the boy was able to answer almost immediately, and had no difficulty in extracting the roots of numbers consisting of 10 and even 12 figures. Suddenly he became restless. He could not reckon anymore. In fact, he became quite wild. He felt that he was being connected in a very strange way with the mathematical automaton. Why? Because the professor had raised a wrong number to the square.

It must in fact be considered that the earth is the chief factor in this particular spiritual activity. If we succeed in bringing about a contact through the special psychic connection existing between the trainer and the horse, which has a certain amount of affection for the man, no thinking will then be required in order to solve a problem which has been set. The horse may be given in arithmetical problem, and it is not necessary at all that it should pass through its head. The only thing that will be required is to teach the horse the programme; this will be enough, for the whole of mathematics is a totality—consequently, all roads, squares, etc. are connected. And just because there is this connection between all mathematical things, it will be sufficient to give the animal a tip, if we have trained it up to the point of being able to express something; the rest will come by itself. This is based on the connection between the human soul and the animal soul. The earth has a transmitting role. In its conscious life the animal is merely concerned with sweets which it receives, and while its whole attention in the conscious life goes toward the sugar, the most curious things take place in its subconscious life. But all these processes take place entirely in its subconscious regions. In its consciousness the horse knows nothing of all this. Besides, owing to the delight it feels in munching constantly at the sugar, it has no time to observe anything else.

Those who have a certain inclination towards spiritual life, “who must choose their heroes for themselves, the path to Olympus,” will encounter many things over time that they have absorbed from art and science, which seemed to them to be ideals. Then there is the world of practical people, who associate the concept of ideal and idealism with dreaminess and unworldliness.

One of those who grasped the concept of the ideal most beautifully is Johann Gottlieb Fichte. He once said to a group of young people: “We others also know that ideals cannot be applied directly in real life, if not better than that. But those others who don't have this feeling should wait for the time being. Ideals cannot be applied like food and drink every day; but for the idealist, ideals are the great effective forces of human life, those forces that he draws down from the invisible realms to introduce into the visible world. The small, unimportant phenomena of external life can indeed be experienced without significant ideals, but the great advances of humanity have only been achieved by those who are able to rise from the realm of reality into the realm of ideals. Not those who think practically are the real progressives, but those whom the everyday person looks down on as idealists.

They say that idealists are unworldly people. But in truth, the future is always unworldly in the present. The idealist is, of course, quite different from the practitioner. The idealist's soul is tuned quite differently. He has quite different experiences of the soul. We have to develop a very specific way of feeling and we cannot do a child a greater service than to develop in him this state of mind, which does not constitute dreamy but practical ideality.

This is the devotional mood of the soul. One must not grasp certain ideals with the mind, but the one who develops a reverential, devotional mood in himself develops it to comprehend the ideals.

In our youth we had uncritical veneration, and we can do nothing better for ourselves than, for example, to make ourselves capable of venerating a person in such a way that when we are told about him and have not yet seen him, he appears to us as beautiful and worthy of veneration. Those who have had many such moods in their youth, who have learned to venerate, have truly developed something of such a mood of the soul that generates real power in life. The real is generated by the real. We gradually struggle to generate real strength by learning to venerate.

This is a real life teaching, and it aims to develop the devotional view of life. We can give young people nothing better than this power to worship, this devotion, this reverence. We owe an infinite debt to that which we are able to revere uncritically. This is an inner experience that one must have to appreciate its significance. Through this, one comes to what is called the impersonal.

Disinterested deployment of strength in the affairs that we have recognized as the right ones, without our having any personal interest in them, enables us to develop powerful ideals.

The great geniuses of the world have become great by making their own the affairs in which they had no personal interest. Furthermore, we achieve this devotional mood when we do what we have recognized as being right without looking for personal success. This does not contradict in terms of external effect; but we should decide in the most important matters of our external life in such a way that we are able to say: I almost certainly foresee that my first or second or third attempt will fail, but nevertheless I undertake it. – So not looking at the success. This is, of course, put radically, and in life many things will be different; but it is the attitude that matters.

Ideas continue to have an effect in life. This can be observed in Herder's “Ideas for a Philosophy of the History of Mankind”, the most beautiful primer of theosophy, whose ideas Goethe, Schiller, Novalis and Schlegel absorbed. Of this work, Goethe could say: This is the most beautiful way in which ideas continue to have an effect in life, although one so easily forgets their origin. And with the great ideals of the spiritual leaders of humanity, forms are also formed. The geniuses of humanity transform human beings in their most everyday activities. To rise to the ideals, we must absorb the spiritual creation within us; we must revere that which rises above the everyday. It is indiscreet to see the everyday in the lives of great geniuses, instead of seeing that which rises above the everyday.

Hegel says: You believe that some ideal is an abstraction? For me, an ideal is not an abstraction, but something very concrete. — Idealism is not only the knowledge of ideals, but it is a mood, a feeling that must come to life in us, that must become a life force. The ideals of humanity are therefore the deepest forces at work in humanity. The great geniuses of humanity, the poets, composers, painters, sculptors, all these guides of humanity are recorded in history, which some understand better and others less well. They stand at the top as the guides of humanity; but those from whom they draw their strength stand behind them. Those who are hardly more than a name to humanity – namely, the “great initiates” – stand overlooking and dominating the times.

The greatest of these, the founders of the great religions, have become known to humanity; but what they were like themselves, in their inner being, humanity does not know. This is to become popular again through the theosophical world view.

The one who imbued the whole of Egyptian culture with the great wisdom of Egyptianism, who spiritually dominated all of this, is actually the great Hermes, the Egyptian initiate!

The one to whom the culture of India goes back, Krishna, is actually quite unknown in terms of his soul life.

To see into the soul of Buddha is granted to only a few, and what took place in the soul of Zoroaster can be seen by only a very few; the same applies to Pythagoras, Plato; then the incarnation of the second Logos, Christ; and then the great initiate, the unknown from the highlands, whom history does not even know: Master Jesus. Behind the greatest we always find the very greatest. Just as people allow themselves to be inspired by their leaders, so the leaders allow themselves to be inspired by those who are even greater.

What then is an initiate? It is the one who knows something of the hidden forces in the world, of its deepest, most mysterious ones. It is usually a great secret that he has, and it is his mission to make this secret effective in the world.

The true initiates will not deny that they are initiates, but they will say that it is impossible to reveal the deepest laws of existence, the hidden forces, at first. An initiate may even tell his secret in words, but the world will not notice it. There are many people who are what is called ordinary in their outward occupation; they could be shoemakers like Jacob Boehme, but they are not recognizable as initiates by those around them. What he knows is a spiritual power, or a sum of powers, which in the present time must be put into humanity by some means, and these powers work through the centuries, even if they do not work immediately.

He is an initiate who knows what is to happen in the future, and he guides the course of human development in a great, definite direction.

Just as the chemist combines and controls certain substances, so the initiate controls spiritual forces.

Those who want to achieve higher development must overcome the illusion of personal self. While we may have the appearance of being personal, we are only a link in the organism. The hand that withers when it is sawn off is also only a link in the organism, nothing in itself. Just as man is ruled by the soul, so those who recognize the laws of nature [of] the earth speak of the earth spirit. That is the soul of the earth, and we all together with it are the body of the earth soul. Not only must we intellectually recognize that selfhood is illusion; our innermost feelings must also recognize that we are parts of a whole.

“My soul would be nothing without the others,” says Angelus Silesius. When this illusion fades and a person can let go of their personality and surrender in this way, they are ready to receive a certain teaching, which is a deeply inner experience of their soul. Initially, it is the greatest experience that a person can have here on our earthly journey.

Although we are part of a whole, we are still a very special being; we are a building block in the universe, but it would have to collapse if we were taken out.

The initiate learns to recognize which letter he is in the universe, in the book of the world; he gets to know his deepest, innermost being, which exists only once. He must recognize his letter, but each person has a different letter that he must recognize himself. All learning from the initiates consists in our being led, in our being shown the way, but what we are, that we must tell ourselves. No one can understand this, no one else understands this deep secret; only each person understands it for himself. To have come so far that we have the “inner word” — the letter — that enables us to develop spiritual powers.

And what is the value of all this? Even if it must be admitted that people quarrel over many, many things and are at war over them, there is still a certain area of truth where only the inner experience is decisive. People quarrel because of their passions, their desires, cravings and instincts – but wherever pure thought, dispassionate thought, prevails, there is no quarrel. But one must see the thought in the pure etheric height.

And only very few can do that! This unified realm, the purified thought floating in etheric height, harmonizes people.

That is Manas! The ideals of men are thoughts, but still interspersed with desires, longings and passions. People can still argue about their ideals because the passions, ideas and prejudices of one person are the same as the passions, ideas and prejudices of another.

But let us ascend to the ideals of the initiated! Through the innermost education of the human being, he has purified his passions, desires and wishes, just as the thinking person has also purified his thoughts. Christ therefore says: Sanctify your thoughts! If a number of people could be together who have purified their passions, desires and wishes in this way, they would be in harmony with each other, as are the thoughts of these people. When a person has undergone this purification, they find themselves in something similar that encompasses everyone, they are in harmony. That which develops in this way is the Budhi, which lies in all people in a germinal form.

Only manasic natures are united in their thoughts. But those who have developed Budhi are united in their feelings.

Thus we see at the bottom of human nature something spiritual, divine. The ideals of the initiates have become enthusiasm; that is: “in God”!

For when they have developed the Budhi, they can receive that which is their deepest self, their note, their word; then man can let his living ideals flow into humanity. A thought becomes powerful when it is inspired by desires. If it is imbued with divine power, then it can be placed in the germ of human development, then it can carry development through the centuries.

Thus the great initiates have brought the soul forces out of the hidden and invisible and placed them in humanity, creating in the invisible the phenomena that then unfold in history as events.

This is what Schiller calls “the gestalt”. Man then becomes aware of the essential, the hidden, the supersensible.

Schiller's beautiful words apply to him:

Only the body is subject to those powers
That weave the dark fate;
But free from every temporal power,
The companion of blessed natures
Walks above in the corridors of light
Divinely among gods the figure.

The great initiates do not contradict themselves; they express themselves differently because they speak for different ages of the human race, just as the same truth would be presented to an eight-year-old boy and a twenty-year-old youth in the same way.

The initiates know that they are initiates. Their goal is to plant the appropriate forces in humanity so that it continues to develop upwards.

It is of the greatest interest to delve into the way in which this remarkable document, the Bible, has been received by people of all times, and what reflection this book of books has evoked in the minds and souls of people. You can learn so much about the developmental history of human souls from the impressions that this book has evoked.

The impression that the writing makes on the human individualities of different periods of time is quite different. Of course, these different stages can only be touched on very briefly, because the material is too vast, and it is done because it is important to recall it to the soul. For example, how the Jewish people at that time had something of the Scriptures from which they learned about their own origin and ancestry, astronomy, the justification of the social order, the legislation, regulations for everyday life. The whole life of the soul and its wisdom were in it. The scholars of late Judaism applied all their ingenuity and all their mental power to understanding this book. And so it was in those times that the highest knowledge was applied to achieve understanding. And with the utmost respect, the Kabbalists can even be mentioned, who sought to interpret it down to the letter. And then later, the New Testament in connection with the Old Testament: In the first Christian century, we again find this deep, sacred earnestness in the search for understanding. In mystical and other communities, everything is geared towards understanding the Bible. The Gnostics and others of that time immersed themselves with the greatest effort in what is given in the Bible in the person of Christ Jesus. We find profound thought in this Bible study. Let's say the 9th century, John, the great Scot — Scotus Erigena. There is no doubt in this man's mind about the truth of the Bible, about the truth of the written word, that it is inspired; man has no choice but to seek to understand. From Thomas Aquinas and John Tauler to Jakob Böhme, a bold philosophy was applied to understanding what is written in the Bible.

Now, however, something very remarkable is happening with regard to the Bible. Whereas everything before – even in the eighteenth century – was explanation, a feeling of the deepest reverence for the Bible, in the nineteenth century what is called Bible criticism emerged. One could almost call the nineteenth century the century of Bible criticism. This sentiment would not have been understood at all in the past. In the past, it was always a case of looking up to the Bible and feeling down about oneself. It was only now that a feeling arose that man felt towards the Bible as he would towards any other book and that he could look down on the Bible. Critics dare to question the Bible, its individual documents and writings, doubt later appearances and so on, and finally even dare to question the person of Christ Jesus.

David Friedrich Strauß is one of those; he resolves everything in the Bible into legends and myths. He says that the facts of Jesus' life are not important; these feelings and ideas were simply in the people and so it was gradually put together. Other criticism and all that today's science has to say about it should be mentioned. Specifically, the seven-day work of creation is widely criticized, as is the narrative of the creation of man in it, how man emerged from the great cosmos. And then his creation is retold a second time. From this, it is concluded that there are two accounts of creation. All the many and incalculable things that have been achieved in it could be mentioned.

The Bible is the book of life for mankind, but all this has changed people's attitude towards it, and those in authority felt compelled to take their present position. And much, much more than one suspects and can know, people's attitude towards the Bible has changed. Only the soul researcher can gauge that. Even the most religious person of today has no idea of the deep fervor and inner bliss that one once had towards the Bible. Anyone who tries to observe the times and the psychology of the soul knows that since materialism has permeated all popular thinking, this is no longer possible. Since then, a change, a fundamental metamorphosis of intimate feelings can be observed. Many noble people among us look back on the days of their youth with a certain wistfulness, conflict or satisfaction, thinking of how they absorbed the stories from the Bible back then. The inner conflict between then and now is in many a soul.

But what violence, what significance this book of books has, emerges from the fact that scholars and scientists are constantly trying to bring the seven-day work into line with it. One must come to terms with the way the creation of the world is presented in the Bible. The power that the content of the Bible has repeatedly had over people is proven by the fact that, for example, in the early days of the Christian era, people turned to Plato for answers to such questions, and gave him the certainly strange name of the Attic-speaking Moses. So Plato's teachings are related to the Old Testament.

The same is said of Pythagoras and other great philosophers. Even Apollo has a very beautiful oracle that proves this: “Steep is the path to the / gap]” — “Steep is the path / gap]”

But there were mortals who did climb this path. The most significant of these were those who lived in Chaldea and those who were called Judean men.

Paracelsus, the great medieval physician, also made a very strange statement about the Bible: “All medicine, all healing can be learned from the Bible.” Of course, this must be thought of in the right way in Paracelsus' sense. He meant how he thought of the relationship of man and his position to the Bible. You must not just open it, read it and retell it, no, the words that are in the Bible are not only to be taken literally, but there are magical powers in them. If you let the words live in your soul, they will fertilize it; the soul will become wise and knowledgeable by letting not the content but the power of the Bible word live in you. No science can or should dissuade you from the Bible.

Take Darwinism, for example. Charles Darwin says: “So we would have fathomed” and so on, - “those whom the Creator once breathed life into.” And a second saying of his, that language is something higher than the animal inarticulate sound: “Language can never have come about through mere natural causes and could never develop in this way. One must assume an intelligent creator who has wisely ordered everything.”

Many sayings of great scholars who, in this respect, do recognize the Creator, could still be cited. Jean Baptiste Biot, who rendered outstanding services to the science of light, said: Moses either knew as much as we do or he was inspired! — All that has been said is not meant as any criticism on our part, but only as an explanation that it had to come in the materialistically thinking present. Even in our time, many great men have honestly endeavored to understand the Bible by interpreting it, but who knows about it? Example: Fabre d'Olivet: “The Mystery of the First Books of Moses”.

In the face of biblical criticism, spiritual research or theosophy yields a different point of view. Theosophy never criticizes, never tears down, but only seeks to understand. One thing is characteristic of theosophy: it is not a thought, not a concept, but an attitude. Everything in theosophy must be imbued with this attitude. We have this attitude towards all of nature. We see regularities and monstrosities in nature, we know that it would be nonsense to criticize nature, we do not do that, we seek to understand it. Understanding is the basic attitude we must have; we must pursue everything in the spiritual life with understanding, pursue everything with love, not with the yardstick of sympathy and antipathy. Understanding everything and everyone – you cannot define it intellectually, it has to be an attitude. If you have this attitude, you will have an experience: that the Bible is a book in the face of which criticism begins to fall silent. What you may have criticized in the past is now seen in a completely different light, it becomes clear.

One must rediscover the key to the Bible through spiritual research, and then biblical criticism will be replaced by an ever deeper interpretation of the Bible. The development of humanity is not considered if one considers only the external aspects of it. What science has brought, theosophy does not question; but it does not only pursue the external material phenomena, which are only the expression of a spiritual phenomenon of the underlying spiritual development. The task of theosophy is to explore the nature of today's man and his position in the universe. It must therefore say something about the creation report. Theosophy regards the whole human being, not just his physical body. Where natural science has to stop, theosophy begins. When it comes to the words “I smell the scent of roses, I hear the sound of an organ”, the natural scientist sees only the movement of atoms in the brain; but he cannot explain what must take place to produce the idea “I smell the scent of roses” and so on. The task of Theosophy is now a completely different one. Du Bois-Reymond ties in with Leibniz's saying: the idea of the soul, why it is that the scent of roses is smelled, you – [the] natural scientists – would not be able to explore.

Du Bois-Reymond ties in with the word: natural science is actually only capable of observing and fathoming the sleeping human being because the soul experience has been extinguished. Precisely that which the natural scientist cannot explain is there in waking. But can we then recognize what is not there in sleep and what is there in waking? Yes, I will give you a comparison that will make it clear to you how spiritual science relates to the other sciences. An example: Imagine a piano being played, with a deaf person sitting next to it. He cannot hear the notes, but there is a way to make them understandable to him if he is otherwise of sound mind. Open the piano and scatter so-called paper riders on the strings. By the jumping of the paper riders, the deaf person can see that something is going on; he can get an idea of the strings and their trembling. But there is a difference between his idea and the real objective, the sense is missing, the open ear.

This is how Theosophy relates to the so-called science of facts. The latter conducts research in the way we have described here the perception of the deaf. To perceive what is going on in the soul, one must have the sense for it. What Haeckel and others, in fact modern science in general, has brought is all true for Theosophy, but there is an awakening of the higher senses to follow the material processes, and to look back with one's higher spiritual organs and follow the spiritual facts of the higher spiritual organs that Theosophy teaches to develop. Thus Theosophy perceives what is present in the sleeping and waking human being. To do this, one must have spiritual eyes and spiritual ears.

What does the sleeping person do at night, what does he work on? He repairs the physical body to remove the fatigue substances from the outside. The other type of activity of the astral body is present in the so-called initiate or initiate.

What is an initiate? We must first realize that we can perceive as much as we have organs. There are as many worlds around man as he has organs, and each time he acquires new organs, he perceives a new world. And there are methods in the secret schools where this is taught, whereby such new organs are formed. An initiate is someone who has developed abilities within himself through which the higher worlds can be perceived.

We divide the human being into four parts: physical body, etheric body, astral body or soul, and I. Now, in the initiate, the astral body is equipped with organs of perception. The initiate sees into other worlds. He feels the need to express himself in a different way. For ordinary language is created only for our physical life, and even the words that have been used for the supersensible are taken from the world of sense perception. The initiates must therefore follow Goethe's dictum:

All that is transitory Is but a parable.

What the initiates see in the higher worlds, they can only express in images from the sensual world in order to be understood by people. Every student of the Rosicrucian school of thought, which has existed in Germany since the 14th century and is the most suitable for modern man, must therefore also learn to express himself in such images. What you find in books about the Rosicrucians is unclear and incorrect; for their secrets were not entrusted to books. He must acquire the so-called imaginative knowledge, that is, the knowledge of how to express in a parable what one beholds in the spiritual world. The initiate feels quite differently about a parable. He sees the immortality of the soul in the parable — doll and butterfly — the permanent in the transitory, which is always behind it. The initiate sees the great connection between all facts, the highest spiritual and the lowest physical facts, he sees the high in all this. And if he tells such a parable to a child, for example, he tries to make it clear to him, then he himself firmly believes in this parable, and feeling flows from him to the child. So he also looks at these little ones with the same fervor of heart.

It is the task of theosophy to make it clear that everything spiritual finds its expression in a material way. Not those who deny matter will penetrate to the spirit, but those who learn to grasp the truth that all matter is condensed spirit. If we recognize this, then we will also understand why the Bible gives instructions about the simplest things in life. With heartfelt love we must then enter into these simplest of processes, into something that goes with the phenomena of everyday life. Such knowledge should spiritualize life, not remove people from it. He is not a true theosophist who claims: Oh, what do I care about the brain molecules and their movements, the spirit is in him, that's enough for me! No, he must learn to understand that the brain is the expression of the spirit. Our goal is not to rise above the appearance to the so-called being, but to understand what lives in the appearance of being. This must be brought home to people again in images, in parables.

The spiritual was there earlier than the physical. The astral body has built up the physical body, structured it out of itself. All material substance has been structured out of the spiritual, and the spirit is the older, the earlier. Before the physical there was the astral; it formed, it created this body — in the likeness of water and ice. The naturalist sees only the time when the ice had already formed in the stream, the theosophist the time when there was no ice yet in the stream, and the one with the ice. The material — the ice — separates from the water, which still comes from something higher. The Bible expresses this process very beautifully: “The Spirit of God moved over the waters.” (Genesis 1:2) Water is the image of all secret schools.

The wisdom in the Bible is given in images and parables, in comparisons. The seven-day work is no different. We are not dealing with external facts here, but with long, long periods of time. There is no document in the world that contains theosophical truths in a more magnificent way than the Bible. Theosophy will offer an explanation of the Bible, an understanding of it again. Even something like the splitting of the creation account will bring it closer to human understanding again. The spiritual man is already contained in the stream of water, when the spirit of God still hovered over the waters. “Male and female” is the literal translation, not ‘a little man and a little woman’ (Gen. 1,27); this is the spiritual man. And then a condensation of the spiritual, asexual man to the physical man - to the egg - takes place, and thus a second creation, a sexual-physical.

“The letter kills, but the Spirit gives life” (2 Cor 3:6); we must understand this saying as Goethe means it when he says, “And as long as you do not have this dying and becoming, you are only a gloomy guest on the dark earth.” That is, the becoming of a higher soul that slumbers in man, but which can be awakened and developed through schooling. You must give birth to a higher human being out of the physical body, so that this physical body becomes a tool for the spiritual human being, but the physical body should not be the one that rules us. When man is free from the physical, the physical body becomes such a tool. Thus one should explore the spirit from the letter. Theosophy wants to build up from what is there; because even the smallest, the most material, is condensed spirit. Therefore, a theosophical attitude also understands that, as in the Bible, there may be rules that relate to simple daily life.

Those who fight the Bible do not understand it; they are fighting their own delusion, which they have created for themselves. It is only in the last four hundred years that this materialistic view of the seven-day cycle, an apparent reproduction of it, has developed. Even today, believers often interpret the Bible too materialistically. The Bible is to be taken literally; but one must learn to understand the letter and grasp the spirit through the letter. Theosophy does not want to found a confession, but to understand what is there; and that, what wisdom has poured into the souls through the millennia. The truths change; but a common original truth runs through all of them, for past, present and future. We find it in the Bible and its effect; it contains words that come from the divine wisdom of the world. Thus the readers found themselves imbued with the magical powers of the Bible, which live in the words. Religious documents and especially ones like the Bible, which in its two parts even points to our division of time, cannot be taken deeply enough. Only by delving deeply into them will people be led to spiritualization again.

Today, my task is to speak to you about the origin of evil in the sense of spiritual science. The fact of evil and its presence in the world is like a great mystery of life in the midst of our existence. And those who think that human development is permeated by divine power and divine providence are confronted with the question: How is it possible that the Divine allows evil? And for those who deny the Divine, the existence of evil is easily one of the reasons for such denial. They say: How can one imagine a world under divine guidance where evil reigns in the most diverse forms? In any case, this question of evil intrudes mysteriously and disconcertingly into our lives.

Since time immemorial, the question of the cause and origin of evil has been an important question. So today we want to deal with the fact of evil; and it should be said and attention should be drawn to individual points of resolution. In doing so, we must above all remember Jakob Böhme, who in his writings repeatedly raises the question: How does evil come into the world and what position does it occupy in the development of humanity?

Schelling draws on Böhme in his reflections on this in order to form a concept of evil and its existence in the world. For Böhme, evil is what darkness is to light. Böhme says: Beings owe their existence to the light of the sun; light is the sustainer, the creator of existence in the world. It is only through darkness that light is recognized, and light only exists when mixed with darkness. If we ask about the cause of darkness or even try to explain the light with darkness, we come to the correspondence of the ungrounded in relation to the primal ground.

If the light is to appear, then it must drive out and overcome that which is there for no reason and yet opposes the light; the divine primal ground of existence, the good, stands out by itself in the process. It is good; it is the pure good; but the light penetrates into the ground of evil in order to be able to fully unfold. This is an explanation of the concept that seems to shed light on our understanding.

In modern times, the question of good and evil seems to be playing a role again, for example in the work of someone who has impressed many, many people, Nietzsche. You all know the book “Beyond Good and Evil”. The modern philosopher Nietzsche juxtaposes good and bad, not good and evil. He says: We do not need to worry about the origin of evil, we distinguish between the weak and the strong, the strong-willed. They rule, the strong-willed; they want to assert themselves, their ideas, and that must naturally lead to a struggle with the weak, to their oppression. Those in power see themselves as the good guys. The oppressed think quite differently. They feel that what the powerful do is to their detriment. Since they are the weak, they come to the conclusion that there is still a good that has not been realized. They regard what the strong do as evil. Therein lies the origin of the contradiction in ideas between the weak and the strong. From this flows what is called slave morality.

Basically, those who have thought more deeply have always taken the position on good and evil relatively; we need only think of Goethe when he says: Oh, if men would only not always speak in the same way, this is good and that is evil, but would go into the motive power of their actions.

In his “Faust”, Goethe described the struggle between good and evil in humanity. In his youth, Goethe had not yet worked out these powerful contradictions in his Faust creation. In the present version, however, the characteristic features of good power and Mephistopheles emerge in Goethe and his Faust as early as the “Prologue in Heaven”. Goethe sensitively perceived the profound impact of good and evil in man; in Faust he seeks to fathom this supremacy of feelings.

Our task today is to fathom the fact of the origin of good and evil according to the new spiritual research or theosophy. We must indeed go back a long way in human development to do this. The Bible goes back very far indeed, almost to the origin of man. One of the most wonderful and greatest allegories on this subject is the “Fall of Man”, even for those who do not believe in the fact. The snake is the seducer of man, who in the beginning was created only for good. Only through an act of free will on the part of man is the difference between good and evil conceived. The animals do much more terrible things than what we call evil in humans; but who would think of speaking of an evil animal in this sense. The animal follows an implanted law in its actions, and there is no sense in speaking of good and evil; this is only the case with humans. In answering this question, spiritual science must go back to the point where man appears as the crown on our Earth planet. Why can we not speak of evil in animals? The animal also has a soul, but not an individual soul, but a group soul. What is a group soul? What a whole group is in the animal, man has for himself alone. To understand this, we need only consider the fact that a person has a biography, whereas an animal does not.

Every person, without exception, has a biographical interest for us and we know that there is no other person with exactly the same biography. With animals, it is only the whole species and type that interests us to the same extent. Like all lions together, we are interested in the individual person. The soul exists for an entire animal species together. Man has only just ascended from a group soul to an individual one. Man is in the midst of this development. We still meet people who appear to be members of the tribe.

But the richer the life of the soul becomes, the less this soul is a soul of the species, the more it takes on its own character in gestures and feelings. Thus man himself is mostly situated between group soul and individual soul; and as we go forward into the future, he becomes more and more individual, and in the past more and more group soul,

right back to the beginning of man's development. When we trace man back, we go back the periods that we call the historical ones. We conclude the historical times with the fifth main race and its five different sub-races.

If we look at the Indian Vedas, we sense a powerful culture that even Max Müller, a very sober researcher, recognizes. So far, then, are the historical times. From these, spiritual science goes back to prehistoric times. The methods of how to go back through the development of the inner senses can be found in more detail in my magazine “Luzifer - Gnosis”. Theosophy assumes that a huge continent once existed between America, Africa and Europe, Atlantis, which was destroyed by natural disasters and of which only small island peaks remain today. Today, modern science is beginning to confirm this. You can read about Atlantis in the magazine “Kosmos”. Spiritual science has always spoken of Atlantis. The living conditions there were completely different; the atmosphere was like billowing masses of fog, hence “Nibelheim”. This home of fog is preserved for us in the folk tales. At that time there was still an ancient human race; but we have to look even further back for the origin of earthly man, to Lemuria, a continent that was located in what is now the Indian Ocean. There we find the first humans of the kind that today's humans are.

So how does spiritual science view the origin of humanity? For spiritual science, humans do not originally descend from a material being; rather, the spiritual is the first. At that time, the physical body was still very imperfect. Spiritual science takes the view that the Lemurian man was very imperfect on the outside, but never descended from the ape, but the other way around; he left the apes behind at a lower level.

The organization of the physical man at that time was at the level of the reptilian organization, and his soul still dwelled outside his body. Today, the waking person has his soul in his body; in the sleeping person, who does not perceive through the doors of the senses, spiritual science knows that his soul is outside his body. The clairvoyant sees the astral body and its work on the physical body at night. The further back we go, the more we see the astral body at work on the physical. For in spiritual science, the spiritual body is the creator of the physical. In Lemuria, we see the physical human being still surrounded by the active astral body. The astral body or the soul has created the physical body; it is the creator of it, and the important point in time is when this soul was completely outside the body, where, after having made it perfect, this soul now passes from purely external activity to the inner being and becomes the I. An important moment, how in the Lemurian time the incarnation takes place. The Bible expresses this in a grand, powerful and meaningful way when it says: “And God breathed into the man the breath of life, and he became a living soul.” (Genesis 2:7) This indicates the moment when the group soul becomes an individual soul in the human being, the moment of the astral body's entering into the physical body. As a group soul it remained in the spiritual world; the religious expression for this would be: As long as the soul rested in the bosom of the Godhead, it was a group soul. Example: the fingers of the hand; they are members, organs; they stand in exactly the same relation to the physical body as the soul was before it entered the physical body, that is, as a group soul. It was a limb in the great Being, which we may now call God or All-Spirit. In these souls it was the Godhead that acted. Example: water and sponges that fill with water. When these souls moved into the physical body, they became individual drops of water.

Thus, in the process of development, the physical body, as it were, snatches the soul from the Divine. What are the consequences of this? Before, the soul does not feel and act independently, but as the Divine inspires it. This Divine is a part of the common Divine substance. All souls therefore knew something of each other; they had a common consciousness; this now ceased. Individual existence now begins. Before, Divine law was their conductor, now no longer. And with that, selfishness now begins to play a role. God's will was previously the will of one's own soul; now it had to come to its own will, to selfishness. Now it had to come to the birth of selfishness, with it at the same time the birth of self-awareness. The replacement of the world order of wisdom by the world order of love occurred now, that is what spiritual science of all time called it. Love and egoism were not there before.

Love demands that the independent comes to the independent, that free devotion is given. Example of the fact that love was impossible before: My right hand cannot love my left hand. — So now love entered the world, and in its most subordinate form, in sexual love. Spiritual science tells us that this was also the time of the separation of the sexes. With physical incarnation, they appear simultaneously as male and female with differentiation; and with that, the first impulse is given to utilize the first power for the body. So we have two epochs: one completely dominated by wisdom, the second completely dominated by the development of love, the higher and the lower human being. At that time the body was less developed, the soul more highly developed.

At today's stage, the soul is far from having the perfection that the physical body has as such. Later, the soul will develop to the same extent. Example of the wonderfully perfect nature of the physical body: the thigh bone, which, with the smallest amount of material, develops such a load-bearing capacity that even the most ingenious engineer could not have conceived. The spiritual researcher knows that this body is the expression of divine wisdom. Example: Contemplation of the heart. — The physical body of man is embodied wisdom. If, on the other hand, we look at the soul, which in the future will far surpass the physical body in perfection, it is now very imperfect. It is the soul that tempts man to do his deeds, not the physical body. The soul is flawed, sins, and goes astray in the body.

In its kind and perfection, the body is superior to the soul today. At that time, when the human body was occupied by the soul, it was already predisposed to this perfection. Today, this entry of the soul has not yet been fully completed. As much of it as is the group soul has been built up by the physical body. The part that has moved into the body still has to go through this. There is no other way for the human being to develop than to go through the physical body. In the Greek mystery teachings, the soul was therefore called a 'bee'. It absorbs light, it hears, it collects by using the body as an instrument. And what the soul gathers down here on this earth, she will take with her and one day lay on the altar of the deity.

In this way she will become perfect and ever more capable of immortalizing the temporal. The temporal passes away, but the fruits of it will be immortalized by the human soul. But all the marvels, the joys, are destined to remain sensations. So the life of the soul is an essence that brings it to spiritual existence.

By going through the physical existence, it has to establish something that is wisely integrated into the wise construction of the cosmos. This did not come about suddenly, but in a long, long process of becoming.

What is wisely constructed today was once not wisely constructed. Let us imagine the same process with love, for example; here the same development can be seen. Likewise, love rises to ever higher and purer aspects and forms, towards the love that will one day make all people brothers. Love will one day be that which glows and drives the whole cosmos. The whole world is permeated by a stream of love, which will then rule everything, as wisdom does now. Wisdom flows from the world to us, and love will flow from the world to them, to the later races. Our work is to impress the love of the world. But that could never be if the opposite were not also possible. Love must be brought independently, freely from person to person, that is why the era of love begins at the same time as that of egoism. Love will work itself out to overcome egoism, that is its goal. The starting point of the cosmos is love; out of it, egoism has also grown all by itself.

The family, the tribe, groups of people were permeated by love; what is related, what has common blood, loves each other. Although there may be raging conflict, humanity is gradually being driven towards love. It spreads from tribe to tribe, from generation to generation, from nation to nation. When the principle of Jehovah or Yahweh gradually spread among the Jewish people, it is recorded in the secret or spiritual science that existed before our era. And now we speak of a force, of a principle that is called evil, of a force in spiritual science that opposes the Jehovah principle.

I will explain this to you with an example. You know that in school there are students who do not move from one class to the next; they stay put; it is the same in the cosmos. The world was then ruled by entities like us; these beings had completed their development in the Age of Wisdom. But there were also forces in this epoch that had not completed their development in the Age of Wisdom; these now continue to work in the Age of Love. That is the retarded, the luciferic principle; this we see as the opposite pole of the Jahve principle. Therefore, so that love can be free, the principle of separation is at work in the world. It tries its effects on the person who loves other people, on the person who wants to be a free, independent personality. In the counter-effect we see the counter-force, evil, which actually, to speak with Goethe's Faust, creates good. This power, which is the egoistic principle, drives people apart; but love must therefore become ever greater and greater in order to unite people. The principle of Yahweh needed blood relationship to assert the principle of love, and then the principle of Lucifer worked alongside it, promoting selfishness and independence. Love and selfishness are constantly growing, and humanity swings back and forth between them; and that is why the presence of good and evil is so natural, the pendulum movement between love and selfishness. With selfishness, evil came into the world; selfishness must now be overcome. He has to accept it because good could not be achieved without evil. It provides the opportunity for the development of love. Spiritual science sees it in such a way that a point in time had to come when an act, the greatest of our earthly development, had to happen that was suitable for bringing people together; and the forerunner of this is John the Baptist, who prepares this, and in Christ Jesus this act is embodied. The words of Christ Jesus: “If anyone does not give up father and mother and brothers for my sake, he cannot be my disciple” (Luke 14:26; Matthew 19:29), are to be understood spiritually.

Christ, through whom one can receive the great love and the independent human being together, who is able to overcome all the impulses of evil, Christ is the embodiment of this great power, which, after overcoming all selfishness, is to become the bond of love from person to person. Through Christ, the bond of love shall link free man with free man.

Christianity is the power that is only at the beginning of its development; it will overcome the necessary evil and the world. Only the free man can become the true Christian; he can see in the Redeemer the power that leads to the fully liberated personality. Thus evil is the background into which the light of love shines; thus light is only recognizable through darkness. “And the light shone in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it.”

Love will gradually permeate human development; the stronger the force it has to overcome, the more it will grow. It is this love that explains the meaning of evil, the position of evil in the world.

And so we may compare this with a word from Fabre d'Olivet. “Consider the pearl with its wondrous radiance and delicate beauty; how is it formed? From the disease of a shell."

In the same way, beauty arises from evil. This is how we must see evil and its mission. Love develops as a pearl of the world. Where does it come from? Let us think of the parable of the pearl!

PREFATORY NOTE

The following pages, entitled “Philosophy and Anthroposophy,” mainly reproduce a lecture which I gave in Stuttgart in 1908.

Under Anthroposophy I denote a scientific investigation of the spiritual world which, while cognizant of the limitations of mere physical science and ordinary mysticism, and before attempting to penetrate into the spiritual world, first develops in the soul faculties not yet evident in ordinary consciousness and science. The development of these faculties renders this advance possible.

A spiritual science of this nature is usually held by accepted philosophy to be an amateurish procedure. In a short description of the evolution of philosophy I attempt to show that this reproach is entirely unjustified. The reproach is only made because contemporary philosophy, having itself erred into false tracks, fails to perceive that the nature of its own origin demands the pursuance of the path which eventually leads to Anthroposophy.

—Rudolf Steiner

PHILOSOPHY AND ANTHROPOSOPHY

The human soul, under normal conditions of life and development, is liable to encounter two obstacles which must be overcome if the soul would avoid being swept like a rudderless ship on the waves of life. A drifting of this nature produces, in time and by degrees, an inner insecurity eventually culminating in some form of distress, or it may rob a man of the power of rightly disposing himself in the order of the world according to the true laws governing life, thus causing him to disturb and not promote this order.

Knowledge in respect of the human self—that is, self-knowledge—is one of the means of ensuring inner security and our true alignment in the order of life's development. The impulse to self-knowledge is found in every soul; it may be more or less unconscious, but it is always present. It may vent itself in quite indefinite feelings which, welling up from the depths of the soul, create an impression of dissatisfaction with life. Such feelings are often wrongly explained, and their alleviation sought in the outer circumstances of life. Though we are often unconscious of its nature, fear of these feelings obsesses us. If we could overcome this anxiety we should realize that no external measures, but only a thorough knowledge of the human being, can prove helpful. But this thorough knowledge requires that we should really feel the resistance of the two obstacles which human knowledge is liable to encounter when it would enter more deeply into the knowledge of the human being. They consist of two illusions, towering as two cliffs, between which we cannot advance in our pursuit of knowledge until we have experienced their true nature.

These two obstacles are: Natural Science and Mysticism. Both these forms of knowledge appear in a natural way upon the path of human life. But they must be inwardly experienced if they are to prove helpful. Whether or not we can acquire a knowledge of humanity depends upon our developing the strength to reach, indeed, both obstacles, but not to remain stationary before them. When confronted by them, we must still retain sufficient detachment to be able to say to ourselves: neither method can lead our soul whither we would go. But this insight can only result from a true inner experience of their cognitive value. We must not shrink from really experiencing their nature; in order to realize thereby that we endow them with their true value by first advancing beyond them. We must seek access to both methods of knowledge; once we have found them, the way of escape from them becomes apparent. The belief that true reality is grasped by Natural Science is revealed, to an unprejudiced insight, to be an illusion. A normal feeling of our own human reality produces quite a definite experience. The latter is intensified the more we tend to apply Natural Science to the comprehension of our own human self. Man as a natural product consists of a sum of natural operations. It may become an ideal of knowledge to comprehend man in the light of the operative forces observed in the realm of Nature. With genuine Natural Science this ideal is justifiable. It may also be admitted that an incalculably distant future will reveal the method of development according to natural law of the miraculous human organization. Efforts in this direction must be accepted as the rightful ideal of Natural Science. Yet it is essential that we should, in the face of this rightful ideal, press forward to an insight promoted by a sound feeling of reality. We must inwardly experience how the results offered us by Natural Science become increasingly foreign to all our inner experience of reality. The more perfect the results, the more foreign are they felt to be to our inner life, with its thirst for knowledge. True to its ideal, Natural Science is bound to offer us material substances; yet, if inwardly unbiased, we cannot avoid finally encountering the difficulty experienced by Du Bois-Reymond, when he asserted, in his famous lecture on the “Boundaries of Natural Science,” that human knowledge would never grapple with the phenomenon haunting space in the guise of matter. To devote all suitable faculties to the pursuit of Natural Science is a sound experience, but we should at the same time feel that the distance between ourselves and reality is not thereby lessened, but increased. The results of Natural Science should give us occasion to make this experience. We must observe that they do not result from comprehension or feeling, and we shall reach the point of admitting that we do not, in truth, devote ourselves to Natural Science in order to draw nearer to reality; we believe this to be the case in our conscious self, but the unconscious origin of our efforts must have an altogether different significance—a significance for human life, into which we must inquire. Knowledge of true reality does not coincide with knowledge of Nature. This insight can prove a turning point in the life of our soul. The knowledge is brought home to us through inner experience that we were bound to follow the course of Natural Science, but that we were disappointed in the expectations raised by our diligent pursuit. This recognition is the final result of genuine experience and insight into the natural processes. We then abandon the belief that Natural Science, however perfect its future development, can supply us with the knowledge of the human being. Not to have reached this standpoint and still to cherish the hope that ideal natural scientific knowledge can enlighten us concerning our own being, is a sign that we have not sufficiently advanced in the experiences that are possible within the scope of Natural Science itself.

This is the first obstacle against which we strike in our effort to attain knowledge of the human being. Many a thinker has felt the thrust on this side, and has faced about towards Mysticism and mystical immersion in the inner self. A certain progress can also be made in this direction, in the belief that actual reality, or something in the nature of unity with the primordial fount of all Being, can be inwardly experienced. If, however, we press on far enough to destroy the force of illusion, we become aware that however deep the immersion in the inner self, this experience leaves us helpless in the face of reality. With however powerful a grip we may be induced to feel that we have seized primal being, this inner experience finally proves to be some effect of an unknown being; we remain incapable of laying hold on true reality and retaining it. The mystic pursuing this path discovers that he has inwardly abandoned the true reality which he seeks and cannot draw near it again.

The natural scientist reaches an outer world which illudes his inner life. The mystic, while seeking to grasp an outer world reaches an inner life which sinks into the void.

Our experiences, on the one hand with Natural Science and on the other with Mysticism, proved to be no fulfillment of our efforts to find reality, but merely the starting-point of our path, for we are shown the chasm that yawns between material occurrence and the inner life of the soul; we are led to see this chasm and to gain the insight that, in respect of true and genuine knowledge, neither Natural Science nor mere Mysticism is capable of bridging it. The perception of this chasm leads us to seek an insight into reality by filling the gap with cognitional experiences which are not yet forthcoming in ordinary consciousness, but must be developed. With true experience of Natural Science and Mysticism, we must admit that another form of knowledge must be sought in addition to these—a knowledge that brings the material outer world nearer to our inner life, and at the same time immerses our inner life more deeply into the real world than this can be the case with Mysticism.

A cognitional method of this nature can be called anthroposophical, and the knowledge of reality thereby attained, Anthroposophy; for at the outset, true and genuine Man (anthropos) is held to be concealed behind the “man” revealed by Natural Science and the inner life of everyday consciousness. This true and genuine Man makes his presence felt in dim feelings, in the more unconscious life of the soul. Anthroposophical research raises him into consciousness. Anthroposophy does not lead away from reality to an unreal imaginary world; it embodies the search for a cognitional method in response to which the real world will reveal itself. With due experience of Natural Science and the Mysticism confined to ordinary consciousness, Anthroposophy presses forward to the perception that a new consciousness must be developed, issuing from ordinary consciousness as, for instance, waking from the dull dream consciousness. Thus the cognitional process becomes for Anthroposophy a real inner occurrence extending beyond ordinary consciousness, whereas Natural Science is nothing but logical judgment and inference within the confines of ordinary consciousness, on the basis of outwardly given material reality, and Mysticism only a deepened inner life which, however, remains within the pale of ordinary consciousness.

In calling attention, at the present day, to the fact that an inwardly real cognitional process and an anthroposophical knowledge exist, habits of thought are encountered whose origin is due, on the one hand, to Natural Science with its wonderful achievements and great expansion, and to certain mystical prejudices on the other. Thus Anthroposophy is repudiated upon the one side for supposedly not doing justice to Natural Science, while upon the other it appears superfluous to the mystically inclined, who believe they can themselves take their stand upon true reality. Others, who aim at keeping “genuine” knowledge free from everything that extends beyond ordinary consciousness, hold that Anthroposophy disowns the true scientific character which philosophy, for instance, and its knowledge of the world should retain, and therefore lapses into dilettantism.

The following exposition will prove how little this reproach of dilettantism (especially at the hands of philosophy) is justified. A short sketch of its development will show how often philosophy has estranged itself from true reality, through not perceiving the very two cognitional obstacles alluded to above, and how an unconscious impulse is at the root of all philosophical effort to steer between these obstacles and strive for Anthroposophy. (I have dealt at greater length with this tendency of all philosophy towards Anthroposophy in my book Die Rätsel der Philosophie.

Philosophy is generally regarded by those concerned therewith as something absolute, and not as something which was bound to come into existence, under particular conditions, in the course of the development of mankind, and be subject to transformation. Many an erroneous view of its true nature is current. It is however precisely when dealing with philosophy that we are in a position to name the period when it originated (and must have originated) in the course of human development—not merely through inner experience, but also on the basis of external historical documents. Most exponents of the history of philosophy, especially of the older school, have estimated this period fairly correctly. In all such presentations we find that a beginning is made with Thales, and the course of philosophy traced from him onwards in continuity down to our times. Some modern writers on the history of philosophy, aiming at unusual comprehensiveness and perspicacity, have placed the beginning of philosophy in still earlier times, drawing upon the various teachings of ancient wisdom. This, however, is only due to a particular form of dilettantism wholly ignorant of the fact that all the teachings of Indian, Egyptian, and Chaldean wisdom were entirely different, both in respect of method and origin, from purely philosophical thought with its leaning towards the speculative. The latter developed in the world of Greece, and there the first thinker to be considered in this sense is, in fact, Thales.

We need not describe at length the characteristics of the various Greek philosophers, beginning with Thales; we need not dwell on Anaxagoras, Heraclitus, Anaximenes, or yet on Socrates and Plato. We may begin at once with that personality who appears as the very first philosopher in the narrowest sense, the philosopher par excellence—Aristotle. All other philosophies were in reality but abstractions inspired by the wisdom of the Mysteries; in the case of Thales and Heraclitus, for instance, this could easily be shown.¹

Neither Plato nor Pythagoras is a philosopher in the real sense of the word, seership being the source from which both of them draw. The chief interest in a characterization of philosophy as such does not centre round the fact that someone or other expresses himself in ideas, but round the question where the sources from which he draws are to be found. Pythagoras drew from the wisdom of the Mysteries, which he translated into concepts and ideas. He was a seer, only he expressed his experiences as seer in philosophic form; and the same was the case with Plato.

But the essential characteristic of the philosopher, manifested for the first time in Aristotle, is the fact that he necessarily rejects all other sources (or has no access to them), and works exclusively with the technique of ideas. And since this may be said for the first time of Aristotle, it is not without good historical reason that it should be precisely this philosopher who founded logic and the science, of thought. All other efforts in this direction had been of a precursory nature only. The way and the manner in which concepts and judgments are formed and conclusions drawn this entire range of mental activity was discovered by Aristotle as a kind of natural history of subjective thought, and everything we meet within him is closely connected with this inauguration of the technique of thought. As we shall revert to certain points in connection with Aristotle which are of fundamental importance for all later aspects of the subject, this short historical indication will suffice to characterize in a few words the point from which we depart. Aristotle remains the representative philosopher for later times also. His achievements were not only embodied in the post-Aristotelian period of antiquity, up to the founding of Christianity, but he was regarded most especially in the first Christian period and onward into the Middle Ages as that philosopher in whom direction was to be sought in all efforts to formulate a conception of the universe. By this we do not mean that men had Aristotle's philosophy before them as a system, as a collection of dogmas—especially in the Middle Ages, when the original texts were not obtainable; but thinkers had become familiar with the process of applying the technique of pure thought and thereby ascending step by step to knowledge, up to the point where thought encompasses the fundamental problems of life. Aristotle became to an increasing extent the Master of Logic. The medieval thinkers would say to themselves: whatever be the source of the knowledge of positive facts, be it due to man's investigation of the outer world by means of his senses, or be it due to revelation by means of divine Grace, as through Christ Jesus, these things have simply to be accepted, on the one hand as the deposition of the senses, and on the other as revelation. But if any matter, however given, is to be substantiated by a purely conceptual process, this must be done with that technique of thinking which Aristotle discovered. And, in fact, the inauguration of the technique of thinking was achieved by Aristotle in so signal a fashion that Kant was but right in declaring that, since Aristotle, logic had not advanced by so much as a single sentence.² Indeed, this statement is in all essentials true of the present day; the fundamental teachings embodying a logical system of thought will be found today almost unaltered, if compared with what Aristotle set down. The additions made today are due to a somewhat mistaken attitude, prevalent even in philosophical circles, towards the conception of logic.

Now it was not merely the study, of Aristotle, but above all the assimilation of his technique of thinking, that became the standard of the central period of the Middle Ages, or the early Scholastic period, when Scholasticism was at its prime—a period which came to a close with St. Thomas Aquinas in the thirteenth century. When mention is made of this early Scholasticism, it should be clearly understood that no philosophical judgment is possible at the present time in this connection, unless we are unhampered by all authority and dogmatic belief. It is indeed almost more difficult nowadays to speak of these things purely objectively, than disparagingly; for if we speak of Scholasticism with disparagement, we run no risk of being charged with heresy by the so-called freethinkers; but if we speak purely objectively, it is highly probable we shall be misunderstood, because a positive and most intolerant ecclesiastical movement of the present day often bases—its appeal upon totally misunderstood Thomism. There is no question of discussing here what is accepted by orthodox Catholic philosophy; neither should we be intimidated by the possible reproach of being concerned with what is professed and determined in dogmatic quarters. Let us rather be undisturbed by what may be asserted on the right and on the left, and simply seek to characterize what Scholasticism in its prime felt of science, the technique of thinking and supernatural revelation. Early Scholasticism does not bear the character attributed to it in a ready-made modern definition. Far from being dualistic in nature, as many imagine, it is pure Monism. It sees the world's primal source as an undoubted unity; only the Scholastic has a particular feeling with regard to the perception of this primal being. He says: there exists a certain fund of supersensible truth, a store of wisdom which was revealed to mankind; human thought with all its technique falls short of penetrating, of itself, into those regions which embody the content of the highest revealed wisdom. The early Scholastic appealed to a certain fund of wisdom which transcends the technique of thinking; that is, it is only in so far attainable as thought is capable of elucidating the wisdom which has been revealed. This portion of the Wisdom must be accepted by the thinkers as revelation, and the technique of thinking merely applied for its elucidation. What man can evolve from his inner self has its being only in certain subordinate regions of reality, and here the Scholastic applies active thought for the personal investigation of man. He presses forward up to a certain boundary where revealed wisdom meets him. Thus the content of personal research and revelation becomes united in an objective, unified, and monistic conception of the universe. That a kind of dualism, owing to human limitations, is associated with the matter is only of secondary importance; this is a dualism in cognition and not a dualism in the world whole.

The Scholastic, therefore, pronounces the technique of thinking to be suitable for the rational elaboration of the material gathered by empirical science in sense-observation; further, it may press forward a stage, even up to spiritual truth. Here the Scholastic, in all humility, presents a portion of wisdom as Revelation, which he cannot himself discover, but which he is called upon to accept.

Now this special technique of thinking, as applied by the Scholastics, sprang entirely from the soil of Aristotelian logic. There was, in fact, a twofold necessity for the early Scholastics (whose period drew to its close in the thirteenth century) to concern themselves with Aristotle. The first necessity was provided by historical evolution. Aristotelianism had become a permanency. The second arose from the fact that, as time went on, an enemy to Christianity sprang up in another quarter.

The teachings of Aristotle did not expand to Western countries only, but also to the East; and everything that had been brought by the Arabs into Europe by way of Spain was, in respect of thought technique, saturated with Aristotelianism. It was a certain form of philosophy, in particular of Natural Science, extending into Medicine, which had been brought over, and which was eminently saturated with Aristotelian technique of thinking. Now the belief had grown in that quarter that nothing but a kind of Pantheism could be the consistent outcome of Aristotelianism—a Pantheism which, particularly in philosophy, had evolved from a very vague Mysticism.

There was, therefore, in addition to the fact that Aristotle's influence was still paramount in the technique of thinking, yet another reason for men to concern themselves with his teachings, for in the interpretation placed upon him by the Arabs, Aristotle is made to appear as the opponent and foe of Christianity.

It had to be admitted that if the Arabian interpretation of Aristotelianism were true, the latter could provide a scientific basis adapted for the refutation of Christianity. Now let us imagine what the Scholastics felt in this extremity. Upon the one side they adhered firmly to the truth of Christianity, yet upon the other they were bound by all their traditions to acknowledge that the logic and the thought technique of Aristotle were alone right and true. Placed in this dilemma, the Scholastics were faced by the task of proving that Aristotle's logic could be applied and his philosophy professed, and that it was exactly he, Aristotle, who provided the very instrument by means of which Christianity would be really conceived and understood. It was a task imposed by the trend of historical development.

Aristotelianism had to be handled in such a way as to make it evident that the teaching brought by the Arabs was not Aristotle's, but only a mistaken conception thereof; that, in short, one had but to interpret Aristotle correctly in order to find in his teaching a basis for the conception of Christianity. This was the task Scholasticism set itself, to the achievement of which the writings of St. Thomas Aquinas were largely devoted.

Now, however, something else happened. When the day of Scholasticism had drawn to its close, there occurred in course of time a complete rupture along the whole line of logical and philosophical thought-evolution. No criticism is here intended of this fact; we do not wish even to suggest that it could have happened otherwise; the actual course taken was necessarily such as it was, and we merely put the case hypothetically when we say that the most natural thing would have been to have increasingly expanded the technique of thinking, so that ever higher and higher portions of the supersensible world should have been grasped by thought. But the next development was not of this nature. The fundamental conceptions, which, with St. Thomas Aquinas for instance, were applicable to the highest regions, and which could have received such development that the boundaries restricting human research would have receded ever farther and upwards into the supersensible regions—this body of thought was robbed of its power and possibility, and survived only in the conviction that the highest spiritual truths transcend altogether the activity of human thought and are beyond elaboration by concepts which man can evolve from himself. By such means a break in man's spiritual life occurred. Supersensible knowledge was pronounced to be entirely beyond the compass of human thought and to be unattainable by subjective cognitional nets; it must have its roots in faith. There had always been a tendency in this direction, but it ran to extremes towards the close of the Middle Ages.

Pains were taken to accentuate the breach between faith on the one hand, which must be attained by objective conviction, and, on the other hand, whatever logical activity can elaborate as the basis of a sound judgment.

Once this chasm was opened, it was only natural that knowledge and faith should be increasingly thrust asunder and that Aristotle and his technique of thinking should also become the victims of this breach occasioned by historical development. This was more especially the case at the beginning of the modern era. It was maintained on the scientific side (and we may consider many of the statements as well founded) that no progress could be made in the search for empirical truth by merely spinning out what Aristotle had placed on record. Furthermore, the trend of historical events was such that it became inadvisable to make common cause with the Aristotelians; and as the era of Kepler and Galileo drew near, mistaken Aristotelianism had become the very bane of knowledge.

It repeatedly happens that the adherents and followers of some particular philosophy of the universe corrupt an uncommon amount of the teaching which the founders themselves presented in the right way. Instead of looking to Nature herself, instead of exercising the faculty of observation, it was found easier at the end of the Middle Ages to have recourse to the old books of Aristotle and base all academic dissertations on his written word. It was characteristic of the epoch that when an orthodox Aristotelian was invited to convince himself by inspecting a dead body, that the nerves do not proceed from the heart, as he had mistakenly gathered from Aristotle, but that the nervous system has its centre in the brain the Aristotelian replied: “Observation certainly shows me that this is actually the case, but Aristotle states the reverse, and I have greater faith in him.” The followers of Aristotle had, in fact, become a grievance; empirical science was bound to make a clearance of this false Aristotelianism, basing its authority on pure experience, and we find a particularly strong impulse in the direction given by the great Galileo.

On the other side we see an entirely different development. An aversion to the technique of thinking was felt by those who, so to speak, sought to save their faith from this invasion of independent thought. They were of the opinion that this technique of thinking was powerless when faced by the fund of wisdom acquired through revelation. When the worldly empirics invoked the book of Aristotle, their opponents confronted them with arguments gathered from a different but equally misunderstood book—namely, the Bible. This was more particularly the case at the beginning of the modern era, as we may gather from Luther's hard words; “Reason is deaf and purblind fool” that should have naught to do with spiritual truths, adding further that pure faith by conviction can never be kindled by reason in a thought founded upon Aristotle, whom he calls “hypocrite, sycophant, and stinking goat.” These are, indeed, hard words; but when considered from the standpoint of the new era, they may be better understood. A deep chasm had opened between reason and its technique of thinking on the one hand, and supersensible truth on the other. A final expression of this break is found in a philosopher through whose influence the nineteenth century has become entangled in a web from which it can only with difficulty extricate itself. This philosopher is Kant. He is, virtually, the last representative thinker whose methods can be traced to that division which occurred in the Middle Ages. He differentiates sharply between faith and that knowledge which man may claim to attain. Externally the Critique of Pure Reason is associated with the Critique of Practical Reason, and Practical Reason seeks to handle the problem of Knowledge from the standpoint of rational faith. On the other hand Kant asserts most emphatically of Theoretical Reason that it is incapable of comprehending the Actual, the “thing-in-itself.” Man receives impressions from the thing-in-itself, but he is circumscribed by his own ideas and conceptions. We could not describe Kant's fundamental error without going deeply into the nature of his philosophy and its history; but this would lead too far from the present subject, moreover the reader will find the question adequately treated in my Truth and Science.

What is of far greater interest to us at the present moment is this web in the meshes of which the philosophical thought of the nineteenth century has become entangled. Let us examine how this came about. Kant was especially alive to the necessity of demonstrating to what extent something absolute was given us in thought, something in which there could be no uncertainty, as against the uncertainty, according to him, of everything which proceeds from experience. Our judgment can only derive certainty from the fact that a portion of knowledge does not originate with external things, but with ourselves. In the Kantian sense, we see external things as through a coloured glass; we receive them into ourselves, grouping them according to lawful connections which we ourselves evolve. Our cognition has certain forms—the forms of space, time, the categories of cause and effect, and so on. These are immaterial for the thing-in-itself, at least we cannot know whether the thing-in-itself has any existence in space, time, or causality. The latter are forms created by the subjective mind of man and imposed upon the thing-in-itself the moment of its appearing; the thing-in-itself remains unknown. Thus when man finds the thing-in-itself before him, he endows it with the forms of space and time, and finds an apparent association of cause and effect, thus enveloping the thing-in-itself with a self-made network of concepts and forms. For this reason man may claim a certain security of knowledge, since, as long as he is as he is, time, space, and causality possess actual significance for him. And whatever man thrusts into the things he must also extract from them. Of the thing-in-itself, however, he can have no knowledge, for he remains ever a captive of the forms of his own mind. This view was finally expressed by Schopenhauer in his classical formula; “The world is my conception.”

Now this entire process of reasoning has been transmitted to almost the entire thought of the nineteenth century; not only to the theory of knowledge, but also, for instance, to the theoretical principles of Physiology. Here philosophical speculation was amplified by certain experiences. If we consider the doctrine of the specific energies of the senses, there would seem to be a corroboration of the Kantian theory. At all events that is how the matter was recorded during the nineteenth century. “The eye perceives the light”; yet, if the eye be affected by some other means, say by pressure or by electric current, a perception of light is also recorded. Hence it was said: the perception of the light is generated by the specific energy of the eye and transferred to the thing-in-itself. It was Helmholtz in particular who laid this down in the crudest manner as a physiological-philosophical axiom, declaring that not even a pictorial resemblance can be claimed between our perceptions and the objects exterior to ourselves. A picture resembles its prototype, but in so called sense-perception the resemblance to the original cannot be so close as even in a picture. The only designation, therefore, we can find for the experience within ourselves is “symbol” of the thing-in-itself, for a symbol need have no resemblance to the thing it expresses.

Thus the philosophical thought of the nineteenth century, until the present day, became thoroughly impregnated with elements which had long been in preparation, so that the relation of human cognition to reality could not be conceived except in the sense of the ideas given above. I often recall a conversation I had the privilege of having years ago with a highly esteemed philosophical thinker of the nineteenth century, with whose views, however, on the theory of knowledge I could by no means agree. To qualify human conceived thought as purely subjective was, I urged, a cognitional assertion which should not be assumed a priori. He replied that one need only bear in mind the definition of the word “conception,” which pronounces the latter to exist only in the soul; but since reality is only given us by means of conceptions, it follows that we have no reality in the act of cognition, but only a conception thereof. This truly ingenious thinker had allowed a preconceived opinion to condense to a definition (which, for him, was indisputable), to the effect that conceptual thought reaches only as far as the boundary of the thing-in-itself, and is, therefore, subjective. This habit of thought has become so predominant in the course of time that all writers on the theory of cognition who pride themselves on understanding Kant, consider every man a dullard who will not agree with their definition of conceptual thought and the subjective nature of apprehension. All this has resulted from the split which I have described as occurring in the spiritual development of mankind.

Now a real understanding of Aristotle enables us to find that an entirely different principle and theory of cognition might have resulted from a direct, that is, from an undistorted, development of his teaching. In the matter of the theory of knowledge, Aristotle already admitted ideas to which man today can but slowly and gradually ascend through the intellectualistic undergrowth which is the outcome of Kant's influence. We must, above all things, realize that Aristotle, by means of his technique of thinking, was able to elaborate true concepts capable of transcending those limits which were imposed upon knowledge in the way described above.

We need only concern ourselves with a few of Aristotle's fundamental conceptions in order to recognize this. It is entirely in conformity with him to say: Our initial knowledge of the things which we apprehend around us is provided by our sense-perception. Sense presents to us the individual thing. When we, however, begin to think, the things group themselves; we gather diverse things into a unit of thought. Here Aristotle finds the right connection between this unity of thought and an objective reality (which, leads to the thing-in-itself), in showing that if we think consistently we must conceive the world of experience around us as composed of “matter” and what he terms “form”—two concepts which he genuinely differentiates in the only true and possible sense. It would entail a lengthy exposition to treat exhaustively of these concepts and all they involve; some elementary notions, however, in this connection will help us to understand Aristotle's teaching of “matter” and “form” as differentiated by him. He clearly realizes that, in respect of our cognition, it is essential that we should grasp the “form” of all things which constitute our world of experience, since it is the form which is the vital principle of things, and not matter.

There are even in our day personalities endowed with a true comprehension of Aristotle. Vincent Knauer, who in the 'eighties was lecturer at the University of Vienna, was in the habit of explaining to his hearers the difference between form and matter by means of an illustration which may, perhaps, appear grotesque, but is none the less pertinent. “Think,” he said, “how a wolf, after eating nothing but lambs for a part of his life, consists, strictly speaking, of nothing but lamb—and yet this wolf never becomes a lamb!” This argument, if only rightly followed up, gives the difference between matter and form. Is the wolf a wolf by reason of matter? No! His being is given him by his form, and we find this “wolf-form” not only in this particular wolf, but in all wolves. Thus we find form by means of a concept expressing a universal, in contradistinction to the thing grasped by the senses, which is always particular and single. Our thought moves altogether along Aristotelian lines, if we, like the Scholastics, exert ourselves to conceive the nature of form by dividing the universal into three kinds. The universal, as essence of the form, is conceived by the Scholastics, firstly as pre-existent to all operation and life of the form in the single thing; secondly as permeating the single thing with life and activity; thirdly, they found that the human soul, by observing the things inwardly, endows the universal form with life in a manner consistent with its (the soul's) nature. The philosophers, accordingly, differentiated the universal that lives in the thing and comes to expression in human cognition, in the following way:

1. Universalia ante rem: the essence of the form before its incorporation in the single thing.

2. Universalia in re: the essential forms existent in the things.

3. Universalia post rem: these essential forms abstracted from the things and appearing in cognition as an inner experience of the soul, through the reciprocal relation of the soul to the things.

Until we approach this threefold difference, no genuine insight is possible, in this connection, into what is here of importance. For only consider for a moment what is involved. The insight is involved that man, in so far as he remains within the universalia post rem, is confined to a subjective element. Further (and this is especially important), that the concept in the soul is a “representation” of universally existent real forms (Entelechies). The latter (universalia in re) have incorporated themselves in the things, thanks to their having previously existed as universalia ante rem.

A purely spiritual form of existence must be attributed to the universal essences before their incorporation in the single things. The conception of such essential universalia ante rem will naturally appear as a fanciful abstraction in the eyes of those for whom only the world of sensible objects is real. But it is of essential importance that an inner experience should induce us to accept this conception. That experience is meant, thanks to which the general concept “wolf” is not merely regarded as a condensation, effected by the intellect, of all the various single wolves, but is perceived as a spiritual reality extending beyond the single thing. This spiritual reality enables us to recognize difference between animal and man in a genuinely spiritual sense. What is inherent in the species “wolf” does not find its realization in the single wolf, but in the totality of these single wolves. In man, an entity of soul and spirit is immediately revealed in the individual, whereas, in animals, only through the species, in the totality of the individuals. Or, in Aristotelian terminology with individual man the “form” finds its immediate expression in the physical human being; in the animal world the “form,” as such, remains in a supersensible region and extends itself along the line of development comprising all the individuals of the same “form.” It is permissible, in the sense of Aristotelianism, to speak of “group-souls” (the souls of kind or species) in the case of animals, and of individual souls in the case of man. If we succeed in acquiring an inner experience in the light of which the above distinction becomes equivalent to a perceived reality, we have advanced one step farther on the path of knowledge, along which Aristotelianism and Scholasticism had only progressed as far as the technique of concepts and ideas. Anthroposophical Spiritual Science seeks to prove that the above experience can be acquired. The “forms” are then not merely the outcome of conceptual differentiation, but the object of supersensible vision. The group-souls of the animals and the individual souls of men are perceived as beings of similar kind. This entire process is perceived as physical reality is perceived by the senses. The method by which Anthroposophical Spiritual Science seeks to acquire this experience will be indicated in the course of this treatise. At this point the writer's intention was to show how ideas within the range of Aristotelian doctrine can be found to corroborate Anthroposophy. There is, however, in addition to all that we have met with in Aristotle, something which finds less and less favour in modern times. We are required to exert ourselves to think in concise, finely chiseled concepts, in concepts which we have first carefully prepared. It is necessary that we should have the patience to advance from concept to concept, and above all things cultivate clarity and keenness of thought; that we should be aware of what we are speaking when we frame a conception. If, for instance, we speak, in the Scholastic sense, of the relation of a concept to that which it represents, we are required in the first place to work our way through lengthy definitions in the Scholastic writings. We must understand what is meant when we find it stated that the concept is grounded “formally” in the subject and “fundamentally” in the object; the particular form of the concept is derived from the subject and its content from the object. That is but a small, quite a small, example. The study of Scholastic works involves labouring through massive volumes of definitions most unpleasant task for the scientist of today; for this reason he looks upon the Scholastics as learned pedants and condemns them downright. He is totally unaware that true Scholasticism is naught but the detailed elaboration of the art of thinking, in order that thought may provide a foundation for the genuine comprehension of reality.

It is of course far easier to bring a few ready-made conceptions to bear upon everything that confronts us in the nature of higher reality—far easier than to construct a firm foundation in the sphere of thought. But what are the consequent results? Philosophic books of the present day leave one with a dubious impression: men no longer understand each other on higher questions; they are not clear in their own minds as to the nature and scope of their conceptions. This could not have happened in the days of the Scholastics, for thinkers of that period were necessarily acquainted with the aspect of every concept they used. A way of penetrating to the depths of a genuine thought-method was clearly in existence, and, had this path been duly pursued, no entanglement in the web of Kant's “thing-in-itself,” and the (supposedly subjective) conception thereof, would have been possible. On the contrary, two results would have been attained. In the first place, man would have achieved an inwardly sound theory of knowledge; secondly (and this is of great importance), the great philosophers who lived and worked after Kant would not have been so completely misunderstood in accepted philosophical circles. Kant was succeeded by Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel; what are they to the man of today? They are held to be philosophers who sought to fashion a world from purely abstract concepts. This was never their intention.³

But Kant's principles of thought were the dominating influence and prevented the greatest philosopher in the world being understood. People will only by degrees ripen an understanding of all that Hegel has given to the world; only when they have east off this hampering web of theories and cognitional phantoms. Yet this would be so simple! No more is necessary than the effort to think naturally and without constraint, rejecting the set habits of thought which have developed under the questionable influence of the Kantian school. The question must clearly be settled whether man (as proceeding from the subject) encompasses the object with a conception which he himself constructs within that subject. But does it necessarily follow that man is unable to penetrate into the “thing-in-itself?” Let me give a simple example. Imagine, for instance, that you have a seal bearing the name of Miller. Now press the seal on some sealing-wax and again remove it. There can be no doubt, I take it, that the seal being, let us say, of brass, no property of the brass will pass over into the wax. Were the sealing-wax to exercise the function of cognition in the Kantian sense, it would say: “I am entirely wax; no brass passes over into me, there is therefore no connection whereby I may learn the nature of that which has approached me.” And yet the point in question has in this case been entirely neglected—namely, the fact that the name “Miller” remains objectively imprinted upon the sealing-wax, without any portion of the brass having adhered to it. So long as people cling to the materialistic principle of thought that no connection is possible unless matter passes over from one to the other, they will in theory maintain: “I am sealing-wax and the other is brass-in-itself, and since none of the brass-in-itself can enter me, therefore the name of Miller can be no more than a sign. But the thing-in-itself which was in the seal and which has impressed itself upon me so that I can read it, this thing-in-itself remains forever unknown to me.” With this final formula the argument is clenched. Continuing the illustration, we might say: “Man is all wax (conception). The thing-in-itself is all seal (that which is exterior to the conception). Now since I, being wax (the subject conceiving), can but attain to the outer surface of the seal (the thing-in-itself), I remain within myself and nothing passes into me from the thing-in-itself.” So long as Materialism is allowed to encroach upon the theory of knowledge, no understanding is possible of what is here of importance.⁴

It is true that we are limited by our own conception, but the element that reaches us from outer reality is of purely spiritual nature, and is not dependent upon the transmission of material atoms. What passes over into the subject is not of material but of spiritual nature, as truly as the name Miller passes into the wax. This must be the starting-point of a sound theory and investigation of knowledge, and it will soon become apparent to what extent Materialism has gained a footing even in philosophical thought. An unbiased review of the state of affairs leaves us no alternative but to conclude that Kant could only conceive the “thing-in-itself” as matter, however grotesque this may seem at first sight. For the sake of a complete survey of the subject we must new touch upon another point. We have explained how Aristotle distinguished between “form” and “matter” in all things within our range of experience. Now if the process of cognition allows us to approach the “form” in the manner indicated above, the question arises to what extent is a similar approach possible in the direction of “matter.” It must be noted that, for Aristotle, matter was not synonymous with material substance, but comprised the spiritual element underlying the world, of physical reality. It is therefore possible not only to comprehend the spiritual element that reaches us from external things,* but also to seek immediate access to the things and identify ourselves with matter. This question is also of importance for the theory of knowledge, and can be answered only by one who has gone deeply into the nature of thought, that is, of pure thought. The concept of “pure thought” is one which we must be at pains to acquire. Following Aristotle, we may look upon pure thought as an actual process. It is pure form and, in its initial mode of existence, void of content as far as the single, individual things of the external physical world are concerned. Why? Let us make it clear how pure conception comes into being in contradistinction to perception through the senses. Let us imagine we wish to form the conception of a circle. We can, for this purpose, put out to sea until we see nothing but water around: this perception can provide the conception of a circle. There is another way, however, of arriving at the conception of a circle without appealing to the senses. I can construct, in thought, the sum of all places which are equidistant from one particular spot. No appeal to the senses is necessary for this exclusively internal thought-process; it is unquestionably pure thought in the Aristotelian sense; pure actuality.

And now a further significant fact presents itself. Pure thought thus conceived harmonizes with experience; it is indispensable for the comprehension of experience. Imagine Kepler evolving, by means of pure constructive thought, a system in which the elliptical courses of the planets are shown, with the sun in the focus, and then observation, by means of the telescope, subsequently confirming an effort of pure thought conceived in advance of experience. Pure thought is thus shown to possess significance for reality—for it harmonizes therewith. Kepler's method affords a practical illustration of the theories which Aristotelianism founded upon the science of knowledge. The universalia post rem are grasped, and, upon nearer approach, it is found that they became united with the things in a previous form, as universalia ante rem. Now if these universals are not perverted in the sense of a false theory of knowledge, if they are not made to appear as subjective notions, but are found to exist objectively in the things, it follows that they must first have become united with that “form” conceived by Aristotle as the underlying foundation of the world.

Thus the discovery is made that the apparently most subjective activity (when something is determined independently of all experience) provides the very means for attaining reality in the most objective manner possible.

Now what is the reason why human thought, in so far as it is subjective, cannot at first find free access to the world? The reason is that it finds its way obstructed by the “thing-in-itself.” When we construct a circle we live in the process itself, if only formally to begin with. Now the next question is: To what extent can subjective thought lead to the attainment of any permanent reality? As we have pointed out, subjective thought is, in the first place, expressly constructed by ourselves; it is of merely formal nature and, as far as the objective world is concerned, has the appearance of an extraneous addition. We are indeed justified in claiming that it is a matter of complete indifference to any existing circle or sphere whether our thought concerns itself therewith or not. My thought is brought externally to bear upon reality, and is of no concern to the world of experience around me. The latter exists in its own accord irrespective of my thought. It can therefore follow that our thought may possess objectivity for ourselves, yet be of no moment for the things. What is the solution of this apparent contradiction? Where is the other pole to which we must now have recourse? Can a way be found, within pure thought to create not only form, but together with form its material reality? As soon as the possibility is given of a simultaneous creation of form and matter a point of security is reached upon which the theory of knowledge may build.

When we, for instance, construct the circle, we may claim that whatever we assert concerning this circle is objectively true; but the question whether our assertions are applicable to the things will depend upon the things themselves eventually showing us to what extent they are subject to the laws which we construct and apply to them. When the totality of forms resolves itself in pure thought, some residue (Aristotle's “matter”) must remain, where it is not possible by the process of pure thought to reach reality.

Fichte may at this point supplement Aristotle. A formula along Aristotelian lines may be reached to the effect that everything about us, including all things belonging to the invisible worlds, necessarily call for a material reality to correspond with form-reality. To Aristotle the idea of God is a pure actuality, a pure act, that is, an act in which actuality (the formative element) possesses the power to produce its own reality; it does not stand apart from matter, but by reason of its own activity fully and immediately coincides with reality.

The image of this pure actuality is found in man himself, when by the process of pure thought he attains to the idea of the “I.” Upon this level (in the “I”) he is within the sphere of what Fichte calls “deed-act.” He has inwardly arrived at something which not only lives in actuality, but together with this actuality produces its own “matter.” When we grasp the “I” in pure thought we are in a centre where pure thought produces its own essential “matter.” When we apprehend the “I” in thought, a threefold “I” is at hand; a pure “I” belonging to the universalia ante rem; an “I” wherein we ourselves are, belonging to the universalia in re; and an “I” which we comprehend and which belongs to the universalia post rem. But here we must especially note that, in this case, when we rise to a true apprehension of the “I,” the threefold “I” becomes merged into one. The “I” lives within itself; it produces its own concept and lives therein as a reality. The activity of pure thought is not immaterial to the “I,” for pure thought is the creator of the “I.” Here the “creative” and the “material” coincide, and we must but acknowledge that, whereas in other processes of cognition we strike against a boundary, this is not the case with the “I” which we embrace in its inmost being when we enfold it in pure thought.

The following fundamental axiom may therefore be formulated in the sense of the theory of cognition: “In pure thought a particular point is attainable wherein the complete convergence of the 'real' and the 'subjective' is achieved, and man experiences reality.” If we now set to work at this point, if we cultivate our thought so that it shall bear fruit and issue from itself—we then grasp the things of the world from within. In the “I,” therefore, grasped in pure thought and thereby also created, something is given whereby we may break down the barrier which, in the case of all other things, must be placed between “form” and “matter.”

A well-founded and thoroughgoing theory of cognition may thus advance to the point of indicating a way into reality by means of pure thought. If this path be pursued, it will be found that it must eventually lead to Anthroposophy. Very few philosophers, however, have any understanding of this path. They are mostly entangled in their self-made web of notions; arid since they cannot but regard the concept as something merely abstract, they are incapable of grasping the one and only point where it is a creative archetype, and equally incapable of finding a bond of union with the “thing-in-itself.”

For a knowledge of the “I” as an instrument whereby the human soul's immersion in the fullest reality may be clearly perceived, we are required to distinguish most carefully between the real “I” and the “I” of ordinary consciousness. A confusion of these might lead us to assert, with the philosopher Descartes: “I think, therefore I am”; in this case, however, reality would refute us during every sleep, when we “are” though we do not “think.” Thought does not vouch for the reality of the “I.” On the other hand, it is equally true that an experience of the true “I” is not possible except by means of pure thought. As far as ordinary human consciousness is concerned, the true “I” extends into pure thought, and into pure thought alone. Mere thinking only leads us to a thought (conception) of the “I”; experience of all that may be experienced within pure thought provides our consciousness with a content of reality in which “form” and “matter” coincide. Apart from this “I,” ordinary consciousness can know of nothing which carries both “'form” and “matter” into thought. All other thoughts do not image full reality. Yet by acquiring experience of the true “I” in pure thought we become acquainted with full reality; moreover, we may advance from this experience to other regions of true reality.

Anthroposophy attempts this advance. It does not remain stationary on the level of the experiences of ordinary consciousness, but strives to achieve an investigation of reality through the agency of a transformed consciousness. With the exception of the “I” experienced in pure thought, ordinary consciousness is excluded for the purpose of this investigation.

A new consciousness takes its place, whose activity in its widest range is commensurate with the activity of ordinary consciousness at such moments when the latter can rise to the experience of the “I” in pure thought. To achieve this purpose, our soul most acquire the strength to withdraw from the apprehension of all external things and from all conceptions with which we are inwardly so familiar that we can recall them in our memory. Most seekers after the knowledge of reality deny the possibility of the above; they deny it without trial. Indeed, the only method of trial is the accomplishment of those inner processes which lead to the above-mentioned transformation of consciousness. (A detailed description of these processes will be found in my book, among others, Knowledge of the Higher Worlds and Its Attainment.) An attitude of denial in this matter effectively hinders the attainment of true reality. Only the main points in connection with these processes can here be given; the subject is treated in detail in the author's above-mentioned and other books. The soul forces which in ordinary life and science are devoted to the perception of things and to the activity of such thought as can be recalled in memory—these forces can be applied to the perception and experience of a supersensible world. Our initial experience in this way is the perception of our supersensible being. The reason why we cannot attain this supersensible being if we remain within the limits of ordinary consciousness becomes conspicuous to us. (Though we attain it at that one point of the true “I,” as explained above, we are unable immediately to recognize it in its state of isolation.) Ordinary consciousness is produced when man's physical, bodily nature, as it were, engulfs his spiritual being and acts in its place. In the ordinary apprehension of the physical world we have an activity of the human organism which is maintained by the transformation of man's supersensible being into a sensible (physical) being. The activity of ordinary thought originates in the same way, with the difference that apprehension is ensured by the reciprocal relation of the human organism to the outer world, whereas thought evolves within the organism itself.

An insight into these facts is conditional to all true knowledge of reality. The seeker after knowledge must make the attainment of this insight the object of inner, spiritual exertion. The habits of thought prevalent in our day tend to a confusion of this spiritual exercise with all manner of nebulous, mystical amateurishness. Nothing can be more irrelevant. The effort is entirely in the direction of the fullest clarity of soul. Strictly logical thought is both the point of departure and the standard of exercise, to the exclusion of all experiences deficient in such inner clarity. But this purely logical thought is related to the inner exercise in question, as a shadow to the object which casts it. The exercise of the inner faculties strengthens the soul to such an extent that the struggle towards knowledge becomes fraught with more than the experience of mere abstract thought; the experience of spiritual realities is achieved. Knowledge is kindled in the soul, of which a non-transformed consciousness can have no conception. This development of consciousness has nothing to do with any form of visionary or other diseased condition of soul. These are inseparable from a debasement of the soul below the sphere in which clear, logical thought is active; anthroposophical research, however, transcends this sphere and leads into the spiritual. In the above-mentioned conditions of soul the physical body is always implicated; anthroposophical research strengthens the soul to such an extent that activity in the spiritual sphere is possible independently of the physical body. The attainment of this strengthened condition of soul requires, to begin with, exercise in “pictorial thought.” Consciousness is made to centre upon such clear and pregnant conceptions as are otherwise only formed under the influence of external apprehension. An inner activity is thus experienced of such intensity as only external tone or colour or another sense-perception can otherwise evoke. In this case, however, the activity is purely the result of strong inner effort. It is of the nature of thought; not such thought as accompanies sense-perception with abstract concepts, but thought which becomes intensified to the point of (inner) visibility such as ordinarily is only evident in the imagery of sense-perception. The importance does not lie in “what” we think but in the consciousness of an activity not undertaken in ordinary consciousness. We thus learn to experience ourselves in the supersensible being of our “I” which, in ordinary life, is concealed by the manifestations of the physical, bodily organization. A consciousness thus transformed becomes the instrument for the perception of supersensible reality. For this purpose, however, further exercise in respect of feeling and willing is necessary, in addition to the above-mentioned exercise, which is only concerned with the transformed faculties of perceiving and conceiving.

In ordinary life, feeling and willing are associated with beings or processes external to the soul. To bring supersensible reality within the range of cognition, the soul must give vent to the same activity which, in the case of feeling and willing, is outwardly directed; this activity, however, must now apprehend the inner life itself. For the purpose of and during supersensible investigation, feeling and will must be entirely diverted from the outer world; they must solely grasp what the transformed faculties of perceiving and conceiving create within the soul. We “feel,” and we permeate with “will” solely what we inwardly experience as consciousness transformed through thought intensified to the point of inner visibility. (A more detailed account of this transformation of feeling and willing will be found in the books mentioned above.) The life of the soul thus becomes completely transformed. It becomes the life of a spiritual being (our own) experienced in a real supersensible, spiritual world—as man, within ordinary consciousness, experiences his “self” in a sensible, physical world through his senses and the faculty of conceptual thought connected therewith. The knowledge of true reality is the goal of human effort, and the first step towards its realization consists of the insight that neither Natural Science nor ordinary mystical experience can provide this knowledge; for between them there yawns an abyss (as was shown at the outset) which must be bridged. This is effected through the transformation of consciousness as outlined in these pages. The knowledge of true reality can never be attained unless we first realize that the usual instruments of knowledge are inadequate for this purpose, and that the requisite instrument must first be developed. Man feels that something more is slumbering within him than his own consciousness can encompass in ordinary life and with ordinary science. He instinctively yearns for a knowledge which is unattainable for this consciousness. For the purpose of attaining this knowledge he must not shrink from transforming the faculties which in ordinary consciousness are directed towards the physical world, so that they shall apprehend a supersensible world. Before true reality can be apprehended, a condition of soul appropriate for the spiritual world must first be established! The range of ordinary consciousness is dependent upon the human organization, which is dissolved by death. Hence it is conceivable that the knowledge resulting from this consciousness falls short of being knowledge of the spiritual and eternal in man. Only the transformation of this consciousness ensures a perception of that world in which man lives as a supersensible being, that is, as a being which remains unaffected by the dissolution of the physical organism.

The acceptance of this transmutability of consciousness and, hence, of a possible investigation of reality, is alien to the habits of thought of the present day. More so, perhaps, than the physical system of Copernicus to the men of his time. But as this system, in spite of all obstacles, found its way to the human soul—so, too, anthroposophical Spiritual Science will find its way. An understanding of anthroposophy is also difficult for contemporary philosophy, for the latter derives its origin from a mode of thought which failed to fructify the germs of an unprejudiced technique of thought which were implanted in Aristotelianism. This shortcoming, as was shown above, was followed by the seclusion of thought and investigation, through an artificial web of concepts, from true reality, which became a “thing-in-itself.” Owing to this fundamental tendency, contemporary philosophy cannot but refuse to accept anthroposophy. In the light of the philosophical conception of scientific method, anthroposophy cannot but appear as dilettantism, and this reproach is easily conceivable if the essentials of the question are kept in view. The origin of this reproach has here been explained.

These pages will possibly have made clear what must necessarily occur before the philosophers can undertake to agree that anthroposophy is no dilettantism. It is necessary that philosophy, with its conceptual system, should work its way to an unprejudiced recognition of its own fundamental basis. It is not the case that anthroposophy is at variance with sound philosophy, but that a modern theory of knowledge, accepted by science, is itself at variance with the deeper foundation of true philosophy.

This theory of knowledge is wandering in false tracks and must relinquish these if it would develop an understanding of anthroposophical world-comprehension.

• 1. Under “Wisdom of the Mysteries” a wisdom is meant which flourished in ancient times, and differed essentially from later methods of knowledge. Its origin as an inner experience of the soul whereby the secrets of the Cosmos were revealed. During the sixth century B.C., this method of knowledge was succeeded by another which, rejecting the inner experience of the soul, sought to gain an understanding of the world by the rational observation of the physical and spiritual phenomena. The inner vision of the more ancient method was sustained by an instinctive logic. In the following period logical thought became to an increasing extent a conscious faculty. Intuitive vision disappeared and the wisdom of the Mysteries was succeeded by philosophical speculation. The philosophers of the earliest period, however, were acquainted with the wisdom of the Mysteries, either through inner vision (if they still retained this faculty) or through tradition, and applied to it the newly evolving faculty of rational thought. The reader will find a description of this historical transition in the author's Die Rätsel der Philosophie
• 2. Little or no weight can be laid on the objections raised against this statement of Kant in certain quarters.
• 3. The author is well acquainted with certain modern philosophic works in which reference is made to Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel with a view to obtaining direction from the utterances of these thinkers. But he finds such treatises deficient in a point of vital importance for the philosophers in question, namely as regards their attitude towards a spiritual reality which must be experienced in the soul. A mere reference to the abstract logical element in their philosophy falls short of attaining the vital principle therein.
• 4. It clearly follows that the term “Materialism” must be used far more comprehensively than is usually the case. A man is a “materialist” when his method of thought constrains him to believe that the real thing-in-itself remains external to his soul, because no portion of its “matter” is transmitted. He is a materialist even though he deem himself an idealist for admitting the soul, as such. And it is to a masked materialism that Kant's doctrine can be traced. Viewed in this light, the modern claim that “Science has superseded nineteenth-century materialism” appears in all its hollowness. On the contrary, Science, failing to recognize materialistic thought as such, has plunged still deeper into Materialism.

We have often spoken of the great and far-reaching significance of the Christ Impulse for the evolution of humanity on earth, and we have tried to characterize the whole essence of this Christ Impulse, which we usually summarize in the words “the Mystery of Golgotha,” from the most diverse angles. Recently, it has been my task to research some very specific and concrete aspects of this Mystery of Golgotha and its related matters. These investigations have presented themselves to me in such a way that I feel it is my duty to share the results of these investigations with our circle of friends, especially now, in this time of ours. I have succeeded in extracting some important information from what is called the Akasha Chronicle, and which we have often spoken about, with regard to the life of Christ Jesus.

We have already spoken at length during our last meetings about the radical changes that are taking place in the development of humanity in our time, and it is precisely in connection with these changes that it is necessary to convey to individual human souls, who have come together in the anthroposophical movement as we understand it, new data about the life of Christ Jesus. I only ask you to treat what I have to say in this regard with particular discretion and to keep it within our branches. Because even the little that has had to be published so far about the Christ Jesus life and what was not known from the gospels or tradition has already caused a certain wildness, a wild passion, and I don't even want to talk about the strange critics who are against our current , but even among those who have at least once shown goodwill towards this current, has caused a certain wildness, a wild passion, such as the story of the two Jesus children. Nothing seems so repulsive to our time, so inwardly repulsive, than drawing attention to the real results of spiritual research, to specific individual results of spiritual research. One still accepts it when the spiritual in general is spoken of, even when individual remarkable abstract theories about spiritual life are put forward. But one no longer wants to accept it when details from the spiritual life are presented in the same way as one presents details from the life of the physical plane. Much that must be said in connection with what I have to present will still be said. Now I would like to begin with the narrative itself, starting from a particular point, and I ask you to accept this narrative as a kind of fifth gospel that falls into our time as the four other gospels fell into their time. This is the only introduction that will be given. We will discuss further motivation tomorrow.

I would like to begin with the point in time that is indicated in the Gospel of Luke as the appearance of the twelve-year-old Jesus in Jerusalem among the scribes, where he attracts the attention of these scribes with the great, powerful answers he is able to give them. And so, as related in the Gospel of Luke, his relatives, who had lost track of him, find him. We know that this appearance is based on the fact that a great change in the life of Jesus had taken place, which can only be understood with the help of spiritual science. We know — and this may be briefly repeated — that approximately at the beginning of our era two Jesus-children were born, that one of them descended from the so-called Solomonic line of the House of David, and that in this Jesus-child was incarnated the spirit or the I, we may say, of Zarathustra. We know that this Jesus child grew up with a great gift, which must seem understandable when one knows the fact that this Jesus child carried the ego of Zarathustra within him. We know that the other Jesus child was born at about the same time from the Nathanic line of the House of David, and that this child had entered the physical plane with very different character traits than the Jesus child from the Solomonic line. While the boy Jesus of the Solomon line showed a special talent for everything that came from his environment and showed that it originated from human culture, up to the point where human culture had come at that time, the other Jesus boy was actually untalented in relation to everything that humanity had achieved in its development. He could not really relate to what he was supposed to learn about all that people had conquered in the course of historical development. Instead, this boy Jesus showed a wonderful depth and abundance of heart and mind, such a wealth of feeling that he cannot be compared to any other child when looking at the point in our human development where this child can be found and observed in the Akasha Chronicle.

Then the two boys grew up, and at the very moment when they were both about twelve years old, the ego of Zarathustra passed from one Jesus boy to the other, and it was the Jesus boy from the Nathanic line, with the ego of Zarathustra within him, who gave the great, powerful answers before the scribes in Jerusalem. So it was that the peculiar nature — one cannot say it any other way — of the Jesus child of Nathan and the I of Zarathustra had united. We know then — and this has been presented by me on earlier occasions — that the physical mother of the Jesus child of Nathan soon died, as did the father of the other child, and that now from the mother of the other Jesus child — the Solomonian Jesus child also soon wasted away because he was actually without an ego, withered away —, that now from the mother of the Solomonian Jesus child and the father of the Nathanian Jesus child a family became. The step-siblings, who were descended from the mother and father of the Solomonic line, also came over and now lived in Nazareth, and within this family, that is, with his stepmother or foster mother, the Jesus child with the Zarathustra ego now grew up within him, without his knowing, of course, at this age, that he had the ego of Zarathustra within him. He had within him the capacities that the ego of Zarathustra must have; but he did not know how to say: I have the ego of Zarathustra within me.

What now emerged, what had already been announced in the great answers he had given to the scribes, but what emerged more and more, that was - so I have to describe the life of this Jesus boy, the life from about the twelfth to the eighteenth year of life - that something like an inner inspiration asserted itself in his inner being , a direct knowledge that arose in him, a knowledge of a very peculiar kind, a knowledge that was so natural to him that he perceived something in his own soul, as the ancient prophets in the primeval times of Judaism had received their divine-spiritual revelations from divine-spiritual heights, from spiritual worlds. They had been accustomed to describe in their memory the message that once came to the ancient prophets from the spiritual world as the great Bath-Kol, as the voice from the spiritual world, the great Bath-Kol. As if the great Bath-Kol had risen again in him, but now in him alone, it seemed to the twelve-, thirteen-, fourteen-, eighteen-year-old Jesus, a rare, wonderful maturity of inner inspiration, a revival of those inner experiences that only the ancient prophets had.

What is particularly striking when one focuses on this point in human development in an Akashic chronicling manner is that within the whole family and within the whole environment in Nazareth, this boy was alone and lonely in relative youth with his inner revelation, which went beyond everything that others could know at that time. Even his stepmother or foster mother at the time understood him very poorly, and the others even less so. And it is less important when judging this boy Jesus to form all kinds of theories, but rather to have a sense of what it means to be a mature boy between the ages of twelve and eighteen, to feel something completely alien within oneself feelings of revelation that were impossible for anyone else at the time, and to stand alone with these revelations, unable to speak to anyone, and what was even more, to have to feel that no one would understand if you spoke to them. It is difficult for a man to endure such things; to experience such things between the ages of twelve and eighteen is something monstrous. And to this monstrosity was added another.

He had an open mind, this boy Jesus, for what a person in his time was capable of receiving. Even then, with the eyes of his soul open, he saw what people, by virtue of their nature, were able to absorb and process spiritually and soulfully, and what they had received over the centuries from the ancient prophets revealed to the Jews. Deeply pained, with the most profound sorrow, he felt: Yes, it was so in primeval times, so the great Bath-Kol spoke to the prophets; that was an original teaching, of which scant remnants have remained among the Pharisees and other scribes. If the great Bath Kol were to speak to any human being now, there would be no one to understand the voice from the spiritual world. Humanity has changed from the time of the old prophets. Even if those great, those glorious revelations of primeval times were to resound today, the ears to understand them would be missing. This came to the soul of this Jesus child again and again, and with this suffering he was alone.

It is impossible to convey the depth of feeling that turned to what suffering, so characterized as I have just done, befell this Jesus child. And it may be said without fear of contradiction: No matter how much we may have said in theory about the Mystery of Golgotha, the magnitude of the cosmic or historical aspects is not at all overshadowed when we consider the individual concrete facts more and more as they present themselves in their factuality. For it is only by observing these facts that one can fully appreciate the course of human development, how an ancient wisdom was also present in the Jewish people and how impossible it was to understand this ancient wisdom at the time when it only, one might say, tentatively in a single soul between the ages of twelve and eighteen, but only caused this soul agony because no one could have understood how this Bath-Kol had expressed herself, how this revelation was only there for this soul to suffer endlessly. The boy was completely alone with these experiences, which, so to speak, represented the suffering of the historical development of mankind in such a concentration.

Now something developed in the boy that, I would like to say, can be observed in its rudiments here and there in life, which one must think of only infinitely magnified in relation to the life of Jesus. Pain and suffering experienced from similar sources to those described here are transformed in the soul, so that the person who experiences such pain and suffering within himself naturally transforms into goodwill, into love, but not just into feelings of goodwill and feelings of love, but into the power, into an enormous power of love, into the possibility of living this love spiritually and emotionally. And so, as Jesus grew up, something very peculiar developed in him.

Despite the hostility of his brothers and sisters and his immediate surroundings because they could not understand him and regarded him as someone who was not quite himself, it could not be denied that, as it showed up at the time for the physical eye, it now shows up for the Akashic Records that wherever this young lad went, if he spoke to anyone, even if they could not understand him, they at least responded to what he said, there was something like an actual overflow of a certain something from Jesus' soul into the other soul. It was like the passing over of a fluid of goodwill, of love, that was what radiated. It was the transformed suffering, the transformed pain. It came to those who came into contact with Jesus like a soothing breath of love, so that one felt one had something special in front of one, by being in some way in his presence. It was as if he were a kind of carpenter or joiner, and Jesus worked diligently in the Father's house. But in the hours when he came to himself, what I have just characterized took place. These were the inner experiences of Jesus of Nazareth, let us say between the twelfth and sixteenth or eighteenth years of his life.

Then, between the ages of eighteen and twenty-four, he began a kind of wandering. He wandered around a lot, working here and there in the trade he practised at home, coming into contact with Jewish and pagan areas. Even then, something very strange was already showing in a peculiar way in his dealings with the people he met, as a result of his experiences in his earlier years. And it is important to bear this in mind, because it is only by taking this into account that we can penetrate more deeply into what actually happened back then in the development of humanity.

He came, I would say, working from place to place and there to the families. After work, as we would say today, he sat with the families, and there one sensed everywhere that train of goodwill, of love, of which I spoke. You felt it everywhere, but you felt it, so to speak, through action; because everywhere he went, in the years when he traveled around between the ages of eighteen and twenty-four, you had the feeling: There really is a special being sitting here. They didn't always express it, but they had the feeling: There is a special being among us. And that expressed itself in the fact that when he had moved away from the place, it wasn't just that they talked about what had happened between him and the others for weeks, but often it turned out like this: When the people sat together in the evenings while he was away, they had the feeling that he was entering the room. It was a shared vision. They had the feeling: He is among us again. And that happened in many, many places: that he had gone away and yet was still there, appearing spiritually to people, living spiritually among people, so that they knew: we are sitting with him.

As I said, in terms of the subjective it was a vision; in terms of the objective it was the tremendous effect of the love that he had expressed in the way described, and which expressed itself in such a way that the place of his appearance was in a certain sense no longer bound to the outer physical space, to the outer physical space conditions of the human physical body. It is tremendously helpful for understanding the Jesus figure to see again and again how indelibly he is imprinted in the minds of those to whom he once came, how he, so to speak, remained with them spiritually and returned to them again. Those who once knew him did not lose him from their hearts.

Now, during this wandering, he also came to pagan areas, I said, and in a pagan area he now had a very special experience. This experience makes a particularly deep impression when considering the Akasha Chronicle of this point in human development. He came to a pagan area. At this point, I would like to make it very clear: if you ask me where this was, where he came, I still have to tell you today: I don't know. Perhaps later research will reveal where it was, but I have not yet been able to find the geographical location. But the fact is absolutely clear. There may be reasons why one cannot find the geographical location, but why the fact itself can be absolutely clear. In fact, precisely by telling you these things, I do not want to withhold from you at any moment the admission of what has not yet been investigated in this matter, so that you can see that I am really concerned in this matter with communicating only what I am fully able to vouch for.

So he came to a pagan place. There was a dilapidated place of worship. The priests of this place had long since left the place; but the people all around were in deep misery, afflicted by diseases. Precisely because an evil disease was raging there, the pagan priests had left the place of worship for this and other reasons. The people felt not only sick, miserable, burdened and laden, but also abandoned by the priests who had performed the pagan sacrifices, and suffered terrible torments. Now he came here to this area. It was around the time of his twenty-fourth year. Even then, he was already to a great extent characterized by the fact that he made a very special, a tremendous impression by his mere appearance, even if he did not even speak, but only when he was seen approaching. There is really something very special about this appearance of Jesus for the people of that time among whom he appeared. One felt something quite incredible when he approached. One must bear in mind that one is dealing with people from a completely different age and a different region. When he approached, one could see people feel: There is something very special here, something radiates from this being that does not radiate from any other person. Almost everyone felt this, some sympathetically, others without sympathy. It is not surprising that it became known and spread like wildfire: a special being is coming! And those around the altar believed that another old pagan priest had come or had sent someone to perform the sacrifice again. And the crowd that gathered became more and more numerous; for like wildfire it spread that a very special being had arrived. Jesus, when he saw the crowd, had infinite compassion for them, but he did not have the will, although they stormily demanded it, to perform the sacrifice again, not the will to perform this pagan sacrifice. But when he saw this crowd, his soul was filled with the same pain over the decayed paganism as it had been filled with the pain over the decayed Judaism in the years from the twelfth to the sixteenth, eighteenth year of his life. And when he looked at the crowd, he saw demonic elemental entities everywhere among the crowd, and finally also at the sacrificial altar where he was standing. He fell as if dead; but this falling occurred only because he lapsed into a state of being removed from the world due to the dreadful sight he had witnessed.

While he lay there, as if dead, the crowd was seized with fear. The people began to flee. But he, while lying there in a different state, had a vision of the spiritual world that illustrated to him what ancient paganism was like when the original wisdom of paganism was still present in the sacrificial rites of the pagans in the ancient mysteries in their original sacred form. It revealed to him what paganism was in primeval times, how it had revealed itself to him earlier in a different way, what Judaism was like. But just as this happened in a spiritual-soul, invisible way, just as what arose in inspiration, just as it had come to the old prophets, wanted to speak to him, so he had to experience the greatness of paganism in a different way, had to see what can only be described by saying that he saw, as he lay there, the pagan places of sacrifice, which were so arranged in their cultic furnishings that they were a result of the original mystery revelations, and were actually like the external representation of the mystery ritual. At these sacrificial sites, when the sacrifices were performed, the prayers of the people were accompanied, during the ancient times when this still existed in its original form, by the infusion of the powers of those spiritual entities from the ranks of the higher hierarchies to which the heathens could rise. As if he saw a vision before his mind's eye: Yes, when sacrifices were once made at such an altar, in the times when paganism was in its old glory, then the forces of the good pagan gods flowed into the sacrificial acts. But now - now, not through an inspiration, but through an immediate imagination - he had to experience the decline of paganism in great vividness. He now had to experience this, the decline of paganism too! And instead of the good powers flowing into the sacrificial acts as they had done in the past, demonic elemental entities now came to life, all kinds of elemental emissaries of Lucifer and Ahriman. He saw them now, and that was how the descent of paganism appeared to his mind's eye.

That was the second kind of great pain that he could feel: once the heathens had cultic rites that connected humanity with the good beings of certain hierarchies. This has become so decadent, so corrupt, that there are places like this where all good forces have been transformed into demonic forces, that it has come to such a pass that the people around them have been abandoned by the old pagan gods. So in a different way, the decline of paganism came before his soul than with Judaism, in a more inward, much more vivid way.

Indeed, one must know a little about the difference in feeling and sensing between when this feeling and sensing is the outflow of such direct imaginative experience or of theoretical knowledge. By fixing one's gaze on this point in the Akasha Chronicle, one indeed gets the impression of an infinitely meaningful but infinitely painful experience of the developmental history of humanity, which in turn is compressed into this imaginative moment.

He knew now: Divine spiritual powers once lived among the heathens; but if they lived now, there would be no people and no possibility for people to truly restore that ancient relationship. He now experienced this misery of humanity, concentrated and compressed into a brief experience. And as he rose to perceive what had once been revealed in the good, in the best old days of paganism, he heard words – so one can say – which felt to him like the secret of all human life on earth and its connection with the divine spiritual beings. I could not but express in words of our German language what had been spoken to the soul of the fallen, as if dead, Jesus, who at that very moment began to come to himself again. And for certain reasons I had to communicate these words first to our friends who were gathered at the time, when we laid the foundation stone for our building at Dornach. What was heard at that time, as primeval wisdom, is expressed in German words as follows:

Amen
The evils prevail
Witnesses of dissolving unity
Of selfhood guilt incurred by others
Experienced in daily bread
In which heaven's will does not prevail
Since man has separated himself from your kingdom and forgotten your names, you fathers in the heavens.

You see, my dear friends, it is something similar to an inverted Lord's Prayer, but that is how it should be.

Amen
The evils
Witnesses of selfhood that is released
From the guilt of selfhood owed to others
Experienced in the daily bread
In which the Will of Heaven does not rule
Because man has separated himself from your kingdom
And forgot your names
You fathers in the heavens.

After this had appeared to him as the secret of man's existence on earth and his connection with the divine-spiritual being, he came back to himself and still saw the fleeing demons and the fleeing people. He now had a great moment of life behind him. He now also knew how it stood with the development of mankind in relation to paganism. He could say to himself: Even in the wide fields of paganism there is a descending development. He had not gained this knowledge through external observation, but through observation of the soul, this knowledge which showed him: paganism, like Judaism, needs something quite new, a quite new impulse!

We must firmly grasp that he had these experiences. He had the Zarathustra-ego in him, but he did not know that he had it in him, not even then. So he had experiences as experiences, because there was no teacher who could have explained it to him theoretically; he had these experiences as experiences.

Soon after he had had this experience in relation to paganism, he began his journey home. It was around the age of twenty-four when he came home. It was around the time when his father died, and now he was living with the family and with the stepmother or foster mother in Nazareth again. The strange thing was that everyone around him seemed to understand him less and less. Only his stepmother or foster mother had gradually developed a certain understanding of the tremendous — albeit incomplete — emotional and loving process taking place in this soul. And so it happened that sometimes, even though the mother was still far from understanding him intimately, they would exchange a few words, even if they were still superficial in relation to what Jesus felt, so that the mother grew more and more to what lived in the soul of Jesus.

During this time, however, he had another special experience, which brought him the third great sorrow. Between the ages of twenty-four and thirty, he became more and more involved with a community that had formed some time before, the Essene community. This Essene community consisted of people who recognized that there was a certain crisis in human history, that Judaism and paganism had arrived at a point in their descending development where people had to seek a new way to find union with the divine spiritual world again. And in relation to the old mystery methods, it was basically something new, which lay in the way of life that the Essenes sought in order to come up again to the union with the divine-spiritual world. These Essenes had particularly strict rules of life, in order to seek union with the Divine-Spiritual again, after a life of renunciation and devotion, after a life that went far beyond mere mental and intellectual perfection.

These Essenes were actually quite numerous in those days. They had their headquarters at the Dead Sea. But they had individual settlements in various regions of the Near East, and their numbers increased to such an extent that here and there someone was seized by the Essene idea, by the Essene ideal, through circumstances that always arise in such areas, felt impelled to join the Essenes. Such a person then had to give up everything that was his to the order, and the order had strict rules for its members. A person who was in the order could not keep any individual property. Now one person or another had this or that small property here or there. When he became an Essene, this property, which might be far away, fell to the Essenes, so that the Essenes had such properties everywhere. They usually sent younger brothers there, not the one from whom the property originated. From the common property, everyone could support anyone who was deemed worthy, a measure that best shows that at different times, different things benefit humanity, because such a measure would be extremely harsh in our time. But there was such a thing for the Essenes. This consisted in the fact that everyone was authorized to support from the common fund people whom he considered worthy, but never those who were related to him. That was strictly excluded, not close or distant relatives. There were different degrees in the order itself. The highest degree was a very secret one. It was very difficult to be admitted to it.

It is really the case that at that time, with regard to Jesus' life, Jesus was already so that to an enormous degree what I have described as a fluid emanating from him, which had an effect on people like embodied love itself, one might say. This also had an effect on the Essenes, and so it came about that he, without actually being a formal Essene, was drawn to the Essene community. Between the ages of twenty-four and thirty, he became so familiar with the Essenes that we can say that he had learned many of the things he experienced and discussed with them, which were their deepest secrets.

What once was the glory of Judaism, he learned between the ages of twelve and eighteen; what the secret of the Gentiles was, he learned between the ages of eighteen and twenty-four. So now, by dealing directly with the Essenes and letting him partake of their secrets, he came to know the secret of the Essenes as it developed up to a certain union with the divine spiritual world. He could say to himself: Yes, there is something like a path to find the way back to the connection with the divine spiritual. And one really sees, after he had been tormented twice, in relation to Judaism and paganism, how it sometimes dawned on him while he was among the Essenes, something like a cheerful confidence that one could indeed find a way up again. But experience was soon to disabuse him of this cheerful confidence.

Then he learned something that was not learned theoretically, again not learned as a doctrine, but in direct life. Once, after he had just joined the Essenes, he went through the Essenes' gate and had a powerful vision that deeply affected his soul. He saw in the immediate vicinity how two figures fled from the Essenes' gate, and he already knew in some way that they were Lucifer and Ahriman; they fled from the Essenes' gate, as it were. He then had this vision more often when he walked through Essene gates. Essenes were already quite numerous at that time, and one had to take them into consideration. Now the Essenes were not allowed to go through the usual gates that were painted. This was connected with the way they had to shape their soul. The Essenes were not allowed to go through any gate that was painted in the manner of the time. He was only allowed to go through unpainted gates. There was one such gate in Jerusalem, and in other cities as well. The Essene was not allowed to go through a painted gate. This is proof that the Essenes were quite numerous at that time. Jesus came to some of these gates, and very often the same apparition repeated itself to him. “There are no pictures there,” he said to himself; ‘but instead of pictures, I see Lucifer and Ahriman standing at the gate.’ And so it formed in his soul – which one must take only from the point of view of spiritual-soul experience in order to fully appreciate it; by saying it that way, describing it theoretically, it is of course easy to accept, but one must consider how the experience of the soul takes shape when one experiences these things in direct spiritual reality. It was through this experience that he developed, let me repeat the word I have already used: the conviction of experience, which can only be expressed in such a way that he could say to himself: It seems as if the Essene way is the one, as has been shown to me in various ways, by which one can, through the perfection of the individual soul, find the way back into the divine spiritual worlds; but this is achieved at the expense of the Essene setting up their way of life in such a way that they keep away from everything that would in any way allow Lucifer and Ahriman to approach them. They set everything up so that Lucifer and Ahriman could not reach them. So Lucifer and Ahriman had to stand outside the gate. And now he also knew, by following the whole thing spiritually, where Lucifer and Ahriman always went. They went to the other people outside who could not make the Essene way! That struck terribly at his mind, giving a stronger sorrow than the other experiences. It weighed so heavily on him that he had to say to himself: Yes, the Essenes could lead individuals upwards, but only if these individuals devoted themselves to a life that could not be granted to all mankind, that was only possible if individuals separated themselves and fled from Lucifer and Ahriman, who then went to the great multitude.

So it lay on his soul, how a few could experience again what the old prophets had experienced from the great BathKol, what appeared to the heathens at the ancient sacrifice. If what the descendants of the heathens and Jews can no longer experience, if the individual would attain on the Essene way, then the necessary consequence would be that the great remaining mass would be all the more afflicted by Lucifer and Ahriman and their demons. For the Essenes achieve their perfection by sending Lucifer and Ahriman, who flee, to other people. They attain their perfection at the expense of others, for their path is such that only a small group can follow it. This was what Jesus now learned. This was the third great pain, which became even more pronounced for him because, as if emerging from his Essene experiences and entering into the community of the Essenes themselves, he had something like a visionary conversation with the Buddha, whose community, a closer community, much in common with the Essene movement, only centuries older. The Buddha revealed to him from the spiritual world: Such a community can only exist if only a small group of people participate in it, and not all people. It seems almost primitive when one says that the Buddha revealed to Jesus that the Buddha monks could only go around with the offering bowl when there were only a few such monks and the others were, so to speak, paying for it with another life. It sounds primitive when you put it that way. But it is different when the responsible spiritual power, as here the Buddha, reveals this in a situation in which Jesus of Nazareth now finds himself.

And so, in the life between the twelfth and thirtieth year of life, Jesus of Nazareth had experienced the development of humanity in threefold suffering, right down to the last detail. What now lived in his soul, what had been crowded together in this soul, he was able to develop in a conversation with this mother after the age of twenty-nine, after his stepmother or foster mother had gradually come to understand his nature and had become close to him. And important, infinitely important, was a conversation between Jesus of Nazareth and his stepmother or foster mother around the time of his thirtieth year, a conversation that was conducted in which everything that Jesus of Nazareth experienced during those years was truly poured out, as it were, into a few hours, and which became significant because of it. There are few spiritual experiences that are as significant, at least for a certain level of spiritual experience, as the one that one has when one focuses one's gaze on what Jesus of Nazareth had to say to his stepmother or foster mother.