The Rudolf Steiner Archive

We will turn our attention to-day to manifestations of the life of soul able to lead us to a kind of self-observation in which a vista of our personal karma, our personal destiny, flashes into life like lightning. When we reflect upon the nature of the life of soul even with more or less superficial self-knowledge, we realise that sense-impressions and the thoughts we form about them are the only clear and definite experiences in the life of soul in which, with ordinary consciousness, we are completely awake. As well as these thoughts, sense-impressions, sense-perceptions, we also have, of course, the life of feeling. But just think how indeterminately our feelings surge through us, how little we can speak of inner, wide-awake clarity in connection with our life of feeling. Anyone who faces these facts with an open mind will certainly admit that as compared with thoughts, his feelings are indeterminate, lacking in definition. True, the life of feeling concerns us in a more intimate, personal way than does the life of thought, but for all that there is something undefined in it and also in the way it functions. We shall not so readily allow our thoughts to deviate from those of other people when it is a question of reflecting about something that is alleged to be true. We shall feel that our thoughts, our sense-impressions must somehow tally with those of others. With our feelings it is different. We allow ourselves the right to feel in a more intimate, more personal way. And if we compare feelings with dreams, we shall say: dreams arise from the night-life, feelings from the depths of soul into the light of day-consciousness. But again, in respect of their pictures, feelings are as indeterminate as dreams. Anyone who makes the comparison, even with such dreams as enter quite distinctly into his consciousness, will realise that their lack of definition is just as great as that of feelings. Therefore we can say: it is only in our sense-impressions and thoughts that we are really awake; in our feelings we dream—even during waking life. In ordinary waking life, too, our feelings make us into dreamers.

And still more so the will! When we say: ‘Now I am going to do this, or that’—how much of the subsequent process is actually in our consciousness? Suppose I want to take hold of something. The mental picture comes first, then this picture completely fades away and in my ordinary consciousness I know nothing of how the impulse contained in the ‘I want’ finds its way into my nerves, into my muscles, into my bones. When I conceive the idea, ‘I want to get hold of the clock,’ does my ordinary consciousness know anything at all of how this impulse penetrates into my arm which then reaches out for the clock? It is only through another sense-impression, another mental picture, that I perceive what has actually happened. With my ordinary consciousness I sleep through what has happened intermediately, just as in the night I sleep through what I experience in the spiritual world. I am as unconscious of the one as of the other. In waking life, therefore, there are three different and distinct states of consciousness. In the activity of thinking we are awake, completely awake; in the activity of feeling we dream; in the activity of willing we are asleep. We are in a state of perpetual sleep as far as the essential core of the will is concerned, for it lies deep, deep down in the region of the subconscious.

Now there is something that in waking life too, is always rising up from the depths of the soul, namely, remembrance, memory. When we contact immediate reality, we have thoughts. This immediate reality makes a definite impression upon us. But the past of this earthly life plays all the time into present reality in the form of thoughts and memories, of recollected thoughts. As you know, these recollected thoughts are much dimmer, much less distinct than the impressions of present reality. Nevertheless they do well up and make their way into ordinary waking life. And when we give memory free play, letting it recall all that we have passed through in life, we realise: here is our own life of soul, rising up once again. We feel that in this earthly life we are that which we can remember. Think only what becomes of a man who cannot remember some period of his life, whose memory of that period is completely obliterated. We may come across such cases and I will give just one example.—There was a man in a respectable position who while his life was pursuing its normal course, remembered his past, what he had done in childhood and during his education, what he had experienced as a student, and then in his profession. But one day his memory was suddenly blotted out. He no longer knew who he was.—I am telling you of an actual case.—Strangely enough it was not the reasoning faculty, not the mental grasp of immediate reality that failed; the memory was completely blotted out. The man no longer knew who he was as a boy, as a youth, as a grown-up; his mind could grasp only what was making an impression upon him at the moment. And because he no longer knew who he was in boyhood, youth or maturity, he could not link his present with his past life; this was impossible from the moment his memory faded.

A case like this makes it easy for us to realise just why we do one thing or another at a particular time; it is not because of the pressure of immediate circumstances but because of certain experiences we have had in the past—primarily in the past of our earthly life. Just think of all that you might do or leave undone if memory played no part in your actions! Man is dependent upon memory to a far greater extent than he imagines. The misfortune that befell the man of whom I told you, was that after the sudden obliteration of his memory he was guided only by the impulses of the present moment, not by any promptings of memory. He put on his outdoor clothes and left his home and family. He was tied to them only through memory—and now this memory was blotted out. Impulses worked in him that had nothing whatever to do with memories of his family. His reason and intelligence remained; and so—because it would have been senseless to do these things while other people were there—he waited until they happened to be absent. He had lived with his family as a sensible, rational individual, but his memory had gone. He went to the railway station and took a ticket for a place a long way off. His mind was absolutely clear in a matter where reason came into play. He got into the train and went off; but the memory of what had happened, even the memory of having taken the ticket was blotted out. He was aware only of the immediate present. The extinction of memory was a pathological condition. But he was so intensely engrossed with the present that he knew when he had arrived at his destination; he could compare this with the timetable. The ability to read—something that had already become habit and was therefore no longer a matter of memory—that too had remained. He alighted and took another ticket to a distant destination. And so he went on, travelling about the world without knowing who he was. One day his memory returned, but he knew nothing of what he had been doing since buying the first railway ticket. When his memory returned and he was himself again, he found himself in a Casual Ward in Berlin. It was only the things that had happened in the trains and the places where he had been that were blotted out, for they did not belong to the present. Just think what a state of confusion! How utterly uncertain of himself such a man must be! You will realise from this how closely our ‘I,’ our Ego, is bound up with our store of memories. We know nothing of the self within us if we are bereft of the store of memories.

What is the nature of these memories? Memories are of the nature of soul. But in the whole range of man's life and being they are present in another form as well. They work purely as soul-forces only in a human being who has reached the age of twenty one or twenty two, and continues living. Before then the memories do not work purely as forces of soul. We must be very conscious of what I have said in these lectures, namely that during the first seven years of earthly existence our physical corporality is an inheritance from our parents. At the change of teeth it is not only the first, milk teeth that are expelled—that is only the final act; the whole of the first body is discarded. We build up the second body—the body we bear until the onset of puberty—out of the soul-and-spirit we brought with us when we came down from the spiritual world to physical existence on the Earth. But from birth until the change of teeth we have received a host of impressions from the environment; Our being was absorbed in what flowed into us through having learnt to speak. Think of all the wonders that stream into us together with the power of speech! Any unprejudiced observer will agree in this respect with the statement made by Jean Paul to the effect that he had learnt more in the first three years of his life than in the three academic years. The meaning of this is clear. For even if the academic years are extended to five or six—not, presumably, because one learns too much but because one learns too little—even if this period is considerably extended we learn only the merest trifle in comparison with what we assimilate during the first three years of life, and thereafter through the years following the first three until the change of teeth. After a certain time all this remains in the form of hazy, indefinite memory. But just think how pale and indistinct are these memories of our first seven years compared with the events of later life. Just try to make the comparison. The memories often seem to loom up like erratic boulders without any obvious connection. And why? What we take in during the first seven years of life and what we take in later on have entirely different tasks to fulfil. What we take in during the first seven years works with intense activity at the plastic moulding of the brain, passes into the very organism. There is a great difference between the relatively undeveloped brain we possess when we come into earthly existence and the beautifully developed brain that is ours by the time of the change of teeth. And the result of this work penetrates from the brain into the whole of the rest of the body. This inner artist we bring with us from pre-earthly existence works in a most wonderful way upon our physical body during the first seven years of life. It is miraculous to see the facial expression, the look, the mobility of the features, the purposeful movements of arms and limbs beginning to appear in a child after the lack of definition characterising early babyhood. We see how spirit begins to permeate the child's being and the impressions he absorbs. The way in which spirit permeates the child during the first seven years of life is one of the most wonderful sights imaginable. When we observe how the physiognomy and gestures of the child develop from birth until the change of teeth, when we read and decipher it all just as we decipher something in a book from the single letters, when we know how to connect the forms of the gestures and the facial expressions appearing in succession just as we can connect the letters of a word and so read the word—then we are gazing at the workings of the brain which has been kindled into activity by the impressions received; these can form themselves only into sparse and scattered memories, because the plastic development of the brain and therewith of the physiognomy has primarily to be provided for.

As life continues its course from the time of the change of teeth to the onset of puberty, the forces working in this way are more or less lost to sight. As I said, until the beginning of the twenty-first year, work continues upon the shaping and elaboration of the organism; but from the seventh year onwards this work is less concerned with the bodily nature—and still less from puberty until the beginning of the twenties. But something else comes to our help. If we have any aptitude for this kind of observation and mellow it by contemplating the marvellous phenomenon of the child's physiognomy which reveals itself month by month, year by year in greater clarity, above all if we can perceive what the child's gestures reveal, how the awkward, unskilful movements of the limbs turn in a most wonderful way into movements filled with intelligence and purpose—this sensitive perception can be deepened and finer organs of sense will develop. Then, when we have before us a child between the ages of seven and fourteen, that is to say between the second dentition and puberty, when the changes in the physiognomy and the gestures are less marked and the development less obvious, it is possible through inner feeling which has all the certainty of an eye of soul to perceive how the child's development is proceeding in a more hidden way. And from this delicate, intimate observation of the bodily development of a child between the seventh and fourteenth years, there can arise the faculty to gaze into the life preceding the descent to earthly existence, the life between death and a new birth.

These things must again be within our reach, enabling us to affirm of a child between the ages of seven and fourteen: around you there is not only the sense-world of nature; in everything that is revealed in sense-perceptions, in colours, in forms, lives the spirit! It is truly wonderful to see the spirit becoming articulate in all things and then, as it were in a mirror-image, to perceive a reflection of this in the way in which spirituality reveals itself more and more distinctly in the physiognomy of a child. If we feel this deeply and inwardly and with a certain reverence make the experience a living power in the soul, then, as we observe the child between the ages of seven and fourteen, this reverence will lead to an understanding of how the pre-earthly existence of a human being between death and a new birth works into him here on Earth. And we shall feel that this bodily development is governed, not by the forces of the earthly environment but by the second physical organism which we ourselves mould according to the model provided by the first.

This can be of great importance in life. Humanity will have to learn to perceive the essential nature of Man. Life will then undergo the deepening without which the further progress of civilisation is simply no longer possible. Our civilisation has become totally abstract! In our ordinary consciousness we are no longer able to think in the real sense; we can only think what has been inculcated into us. We are no longer capable of perceptions as delicate as those of which I have been speaking. Hence men to-day pass each other by in ignorance. They learn a great deal about animals, plants, minerals, but nothing whatever about the subtle, impalpable processes of the development of the human being. The whole life of soul must become more intimate, more delicate, purer, and then we shall again perceive something of the real nature of human development itself; and this will lead us eventually to a vista of pre-earthly existence.

Next comes the period immediately following puberty, the period between the onset of puberty and the twenty-first or twenty-second year. Just think of all that a human being reveals to us in this phase of his life! Even with our ordinary consciousness we see evidence of a complete change in his life, but it takes a crude form. We speak of the hobbledehoy years, of the ‘awkward’ years and this in itself indicates our awareness that a change is taking place. What is actually happening is that the inner being is now emerging more clearly. But if we can acquire sensitive perception of the first two life-periods, what emerges after puberty will appear as a ‘second man,’ actually as a second man, who becomes visible through the physical man standing there before us. And what expresses itself in the awkwardness, but also in very much that is admirable, appears like a second, cloudlike man within the physical man. It is important to detect this second, shadowy being, for questions on the subject are being asked on all sides to-day. But our civilisation gives no answer.

The turn of the nineteenth/twentieth century was accompanied by momentous changes in the spiritual and physical evolution of the Earth. Men of the ancient East had divined this and said that Kali Yuga, the Age of Darkness, would come to an end at the close of the nineteenth century when an Age of Light would begin. This Age of Light has begun in very truth but men are still unaware of it because in their minds they are still living in the nineteenth century and their ideas flow on lethargically. Nevertheless around us there is clear, radiant light and if we pay heed to what will reveal itself from the spiritual world, we can become aware of this light. And because youth is peculiarly sensitive, with the turn of the century an undefined longing arose in the hearts of the young for a more intimate knowledge, a much more intimate perception of Man. Human beings born about this time—at the turn of the nineteenth century—have the instinctive feeling: we need to know a great deal more about Man than people are able to tell us. Nobody tells us what we long to know! There was this striving, this urgent, insistent striving for an understanding of Man. Children and young people were ill at ease with their elders for they longed to hear from them something about Man, and these elders knew nothing. Modern civilisation can say nothing, knows nothing about the spirit of Man. But in earlier epochs people were able, speaking with real warmth of heart, to tell the young very much about Man. When thoughts were still quick with life, the old had a very great deal to say—but now they knew nothing. And so there came an urge to run, run no matter where, in order to learn something about Man. The young became wanderers, path-finders; they ran away from people who had nothing to tell them, seeking here, there and everywhere for something that could tell them something about Man.

There you have the real origin of the Youth Movement of the twentieth century. What is this Youth Movement really seeking? It is seeking to find the reality of this second, cloudlike man who comes into evidence after puberty and who is actually there within the human being. The Youth Movement wants to be educated in a way that will enable it to apprehend this second man.—But who is this second man? What does he actually represent? What is it that emerges as it were from this human body in which one has observed the gradual maturing of physiognomy and gesture, in connection with which one is also able to feel how in the second period of life from the change of teeth to puberty, pre-earthly existence is coming to definite expression? What is making its appearance here, like a stranger? What is it that now comes forth when, after puberty, the human being begins to be conscious of his own freedom, when he turns to other individuals, seeking to form bonds with them out of an inner impulse which neither he nor the others can explain but which underlies this very definite urge. Who is this ‘second man?’ He is the being who lived in the earlier incarnation and is now making his way like a shadow, into this present earthly life. From what breaks in upon human life so mysteriously at about the age of puberty, mankind will gradually learn to take account of karma. At the time of life when a human being becomes capable of propagating his kind, impulses to which he gave expression in earlier earthly lives also make their appearance in him. But a great deal must happen in human hearts and feelings before there can be any clear recognition, any clear perception of what I have just been describing to you.

Think of the great difference there is in the ordinary consciousness between self-love and love of others. People know well what self-love is, for every individual holds himself in high esteem—of that there is no doubt! Self-love is present even in those who imagine that they are entirely free from it. There are very few indeed—and a close investigation of karma would be called for in such cases—who would dream of saying that they have no self-love in them. Love of others is rather more difficult to fathom. Such love may of course be absolutely genuine, but it is very often coloured by an element of self-love. We may love another human being because he does something for us, because he is by our side; we love him for many reasons closely connected with self-love. Nevertheless there is such a thing as selfless love and it is within our reach. We can learn little by little to expel from love every vestige of self-interest, and then we come to know what it means to give ourselves to others in the true and real sense. It is from this self-giving, this giving of ourselves to others, this selfless love, that we can kindle the feeling that must arise if we are to glimpse earlier earthly lives. Suppose you are a person who was born, let us say, in the year 1881; you are alive now; once upon a time, in an earlier earthly life, you were born, say, in the year 737 and died in 799. The man, personality B, is living, now, in the nineteenth/twentieth century; formerly this personality—you yourself—lived in the eighth century. The two personalities are linked by the life stretching between death and the new birth. But before even so much as an inkling can come to you of the personality who lived in the eighth century, you must be capable of loving your own self exactly as if you were loving another human being. For although the being who lived in the eighth century is there within you, he is really a stranger, exactly as another person may be a stranger to you now. You must be able to relate yourself to your preceding incarnation in the way you relate yourself now to some other human being; otherwise no inkling of the earlier incarnation is possible. Neither will you be able to form an objective conception of what appears in a human being after puberty as a second, shadowy man. But love that is truly selfless becomes a power of knowledge, and when love of self becomes so completely objective that a man can observe himself exactly as he observes other human beings, this is the means whereby a vista of earlier earthly lives will disclose itself—at first as a kind of dim inkling. This experience must be combined with the kind of observation I have been describing, whereby we become aware of the essential, fundamental nature of man. The urge to apprehend the truth of repeated earthly lives has been present in humanity since the end of Kali Yuga and is already unmistakably evident. The only reason why people do not speak about it is because it is not sufficiently clear or defined. But let us suppose that a thoroughly sincere member of the modern Youth Movement were to wake up one morning and for a quarter of an hour be vividly conscious of what he had experienced during sleep—and suppose one were to ask him during this quarter of an hour: what is it that you are really seeking?—he would answer: ‘I am striving to apprehend the whole man, the being who has passed through many earthly lives. I am striving to know what it is within me that has come from earlier stages of existence. But you know nothing about it; you have nothing to tell me!’

In human hearts to-day there is a longing to understand karma. Therefore this is the time when the impulse must be given to study history in the way I have illustrated by certain examples; it is this kind of study which, if earnestly and actively pursued, will lead human beings to an understanding of their own lives in the light of reincarnation and karma. That is why in these lectures I am combining studies of historical personages with indications that will gradually lead to perception of man's own individual karma. By the time we come to the last lecture we shall have gained a clear idea of how man can begin to glimpse his own karma. But the only way to achieve this is to observe things first of all in the great setting and structure of world-history. The primary aim of this lecture was to shed light on the inner nature and being of man and it has also been possible to elucidate the inner aspect of the strivings of a promising Movement of the times.—And now let me conclude with a picture drawn from world-history.

Study of history in the future must be concerned with the whole man, must realise that man himself carries over from one epoch into the next the impulses that work in history, in the development of world-history. Let us think of the days when Charlemagne was reigning in Europe—it was from 768 to 814 A.D.. Just recall for a moment everything you know about Charlemagne and what he accomplished. As so much about him is taught in school, I am sure that countless details will come into the minds of my listeners! At the same time as Charlemagne, a very important personage was living in the East, namely, Haroun al Raschid. He was a product of the scholarship associated in those days with Mohammedanism and he was fired with the will to foster and promote this oriental scholarship at a centre of learning and culture. Extraordinary results were achieved at his Court, for the highest attainments of the physical sciences, of astronomy, alchemy, chemistry, geography, as they were in those days, converged, so to speak, in him. Art, literature, history, pedagogy—all these branches of culture flourished at the Court of Haroun al Raschid. When one can perceive what was actually accomplished at this Court, the spectacle is far grander, far more impressive than that of the achievements of Charlemagne's Court, above all in respect of spiritual culture. Moreover there is a great deal in the campaigns of Charlemagne that the modern mind will not exactly admire! Living at the Court of Haroun al Raschid was another personality, one who in those days was simply a very wise man, but who in a much earlier incarnation, a long time previously, had been an Initiate. I have told you that the results of Initiation in an earlier incarnation may recede into the background in a later epoch. A most wonderful academy was established over in the East at that time and this other personality of whom I am speaking possessed real genius as an organiser. Scholarship, art, poetry, architecture, sculpture, the sciences—all were organised and brought together by this man at the Court of Haroun al Raschid. Both Haroun al Raschid and his wise Counsellor passed in due course through the gate of death and their evolution proceeded. This was the time when Arabism was spreading over Europe. The spread of Arabism came to a halt, but Haroun al Raschid himself, as well as his Counsellor, continued to be associated with its influence. Whereas the gaze of Haroun al Raschid in his life between death and rebirth was directed to Arabism as it swept through the North of Africa, across to Spain and further upwards to Western Europe, the attention of the other, the wise Counsellor, was directed from the East across the regions North of the Black Sea and from thence towards Middle Europe. It is strange that in following the life of a man between death and a new birth, one can also follow those things upon which his gaze is directed as he looks downwards. As I have told you, what he is actually beholding are the deeds of the Seraphim, Cherubim and Thrones whose workings are connected with what is happening on the Earth. In the life between death and a new birth we look downwards to the Earth, just as on the Earth we look upwards to the Heavens. The work of these two souls continued long after the close of their physical lives. Outwardly, they were reborn as men of very different characters. Haroun al Raschid appeared again as Lord Bacon of Verulam, the originator of the modern scientific mentality. Those who are capable of unprejudiced observation can see in everything that was forced upon the world by Bacon, a new edition of what was once cultivated over in the East. In the East men had turned away from Christianity. Bacon was outwardly a Christian, but inwardly, in his real aims, unchristian. The other man, the one who had once been the wise Counsellor, followed the path which led across to Middle Europe via the regions North of the Black Sea. It was he who as Amos Comenius brought Arabism over in a quite different form—a much deeper, more inward form than that in which it was introduced by Bacon—but who did, nevertheless, bear Arabism into the modern age.

And so at the dawn of modern spiritual life, two streams intermingled. We can perceive this development of history quite clearly—it is a phase when Christianity is temporarily forgotten, when on the one side scientific culture is externalised, but on the other becomes all the more inward. In his incarnation which had its roots in the East and then ran its course amid the deeper spiritual life of Middle Europe, much of the Eastern element persisted. It is not by casually opening some book ... in a certain dialect there is an expression ‘ochsen’ (to ‘swot’) and I can think of no other word at the moment ... and then swotting up Bacon and Amos Comenius, that we can discern the inner evolution of the human race; we must rather begin to perceive how the development of the several epochs is brought about by men themselves, how the impulses are carried over from earlier into later times. Try for a moment to picture quite clearly what happened here. Christianity has spread, has taken a certain hold in the regions of Middle and Northern Europe. But through men like Bacon of Verulam, the reincarnated Haroun al Raschid, and Amos Comenius, the reincarnated Counsellor, something creeps in that is not genuine Christianity, but merges nevertheless with all that is working like so many spiritual streams in world-evolution. Only in this way is it possible to grasp what is really happening and to understand the great world-processes in which man is rooted.

If we go back to the time preceding Haroun al Raschid, to a man who was an immediate disciple of Mohammed, we must be quite clear about what it was that had been indoctrinated into oriental spiritual life through Mohammedanism. Study of original Christianity reveals the deep significance of the fact that it has the Trinity. When we think of the Spiritual in nature, the Spiritual Power which places us in the world as physical human beings and operates in the laws of nature, namely, the Father Being, we may ask ourselves: What should we be if the Father Being alone worked in us? Through the whole of life from birth till death, we should be under the same sway of necessity as prevails in the world around us. But in point of fact, at a certain age in life we become free beings, not in any way losing our manhood but awakening to a higher form of it. The principle that is working in us when we attain our freedom, when we release ourselves altogether from the sway of nature, this principle is the Son Being, the Christ—the Second Form of the Godhead. But it is the Power of the Holy Spirit that quickens within us the recognition that we live not in the body alone but having been associated with the body through its phases of development, we awaken, we are awakened as beings of Spirit. Man in the fullness of his being can be understood only through the Trinity; it is there that we perceive the concrete reality. But over against the Trinity, Mohammedanism proclaims an abstraction: There is no other Divine Being save the Father God, the one and only God. The Father is all; it is not lawful to speak of a threefold Godhead. In Mohammed himself, and in his followers, this doctrine of the one Father God was personified.

In an epoch when the highest human faculty capable of development was that of thinking in cold, barren abstractions, when men knew only the one, abstract God, they began more and more to identify this God with thinking, to deify the life of thought and the human intellect—forgetting that real thinking has an essentially altruistic tendency. In Mohammed's followers, this talent for thinking about the world in pure abstractions was expressed with a certain originality and grandeur. One of these followers was Muawija. I wish you could look him up in history. You would find there a strange mental configuration, the prototype, as it were, of men who think in pure abstractions, who want to shape the world according to tenets contained in a few simple paragraphs. Muawija, one of Mohammed's followers, appeared again in our time as Woodrow Wilson. A revival of the abstract thinking of Mohammedanism gave rise to the view that it is possible to shape a whole world by applying the principles set forth in fourteen prosaic, abstract paragraphs, void of any real substance. Truth to tell, there has been no greater illusion than this in all world-history; no other illusion has proved such a pitfall for well-nigh the whole of mankind. Before the war, when I spoke in the Helsingfors Lecture Course¹ of Woodrow Wilson's shortcomings—his fame was then just beginning—people were unwilling to understand when over and over again, wherever I had the opportunity of speaking, I indicated that the calamity looming ahead was by no means unconnected with the idolisation of Woodrow Wilson then going on in the world. Now, since the impulse of our Christmas Foundation, the time has come when such things will be spoken of openly and without reserve, when our studies of history will also be connected with matters that are potent impulses at this very time. Esotericism must permeate the whole Anthroposophical Movement in order that what lies hidden beneath the shroud of external history may be brought into the light of day. Men will not be equal to the task of coping with world-events nor of doing what needs to be done until they begin to study karma and until individuals learn to observe their own being, as well as world-history, in the light of karma.

• 1. The Occult Foundations of the Bhagavad Gita. 28th May–5th June, 1913.

We are all the time coming nearer to an understanding of those elements in the lives of individuals that can give us an inkling of the place of karma in their personal existence. In order to reach this goal in the course of these lectures it will be my task to-day to indicate how karma can be investigated by Initiation-science, to begin with through actual experience of karma, and how man—at first without Initiation-science but with a certain intimate capacity for observing life—can develop insight into the potency of karma. Let us remember here what I have said about memory and thoughts which stream up in their multitudes from the depths of the world of soul, some summoned by our own activity, some rising up freely. They are thoughts which give us a picture, shadowy and more or less abstract it is true, but for all that a picture of our earthly life since birth. Attention has recently been drawn to what a man loses if he loses his memory. He is then still able to act quite sensibly and reasonably, but he does not act out of the context of his whole life; he acts as if at the point of time when his action begins he remembers nothing of his life hitherto; he acts, in fact, as if he had come into the world as a skilful, intelligent, rational individual but as if his life hitherto had simply not been spent on this Earth. From this we see how for the ordinary-level consciousness of to-day, the Ego is anchored, grounded, in the memory but in the case referred to can no longer find its bearings along the path of memory leading through this earthly life.

But what does this memory amount to? Let us compare it with the actual experience of the reality from which the memory comes to us. We have our place in life, we go through life with its joys and sorrows, find ourselves interwoven in our experiences with the whole of our being. But just compare the intensity of feeling that accompanies an actual experience with the shadowy remembrance preserved in the soul. We need only take an especially significant event in life, for instance, the death of a friend who was particularly dear to us, or the death of father or mother, at a time when such a happening would be an exceptionally deep experience. Let us compare the full intensity of the event and the moment when it was experienced, with the shadowy memories that come to us ten years later! And yet we must have these shadowy memories in order to be aware of the continuity, the intrinsic value and reality of our Ego in earthly life. But is it not evident from this how the Ego, which can find no bearings in earthly life without memory, really experiences itself in a shadowy way, how it is anchored in what actually sinks down every night into unconsciousness? As a matter of fact we do not experience our ‘I,’ our Ego, with very great intensity in ordinary-level consciousness on Earth. The real Ego of life that is not immediately present grows more and more akin to thought, although we know that it is connected with the Ego of to-day. Experience of the present has intensity but this intensity is absent from experiences that have become remembrance. So that we can say: (a drawing was made) if this is our perceptive soul, our spirit, which are in living intercourse with all that streams in upon us from the outside world, behind this Ego we experience in shadowy recollection what remains to us of it. The characteristic feature of this memory is that feeling and also impulses of will are more and more sifted out of it. However intense our feelings may have been on the occasions referred to, the death of someone extraordinarily dear to us, for instance, yet the memory picture which remains has become dim, more and more devoid of feeling. And even less is there any continuance of what we then undertook out of our will-impulses under the impression of the moment! Feeling and will fade away; the calm memory-picture, a mere shadow of what we actually experience, is all that remains as a rule. And we can exist in the land of Earth only if this shadow of an experience remains with us. Our relation to memory is one thing, to present experience quite another.

But we can approach direct experience in another way, not as we usually do; we can ask new questions about our experiences. It must be admitted that if we look back on life it assumes a remarkable aspect. Let us ask ourselves what we really are at the present moment with our knowledge, with the quality of our feeling, the energy of our will. And if we return to our experiences with these newly asked questions, we shall discover how poor we should be, after having reached a certain age in life, if our previous experiences had not been there! If we look back, more particularly to many experiences of youth and relate the remembrance of them to the present day—how happy they were! If we often look back over our life we can say to ourselves something highly significant for the present moment. We can say: we owe the facility with which we adapt our soul, perhaps even our physical constitution with more or less dexterity to life, to the circumstances that in youth we were able to live happily, not suffering from depression, that we were led to much that gave us joy. These impressions of joy in the soul endow us in later life with a certain happiness, although it is drawn down into deeper regions of our being. Let us now ask how much of what life brings us in the way of inner deepening, how much of this is to be attributed to our sorrows, our sufferings? And let us also ask: what can arise in the soul if we look at our life with these questions in mind? We must give the answer to these questions not with the intellect, but with feeling. And feeling answers: I must be thankful to all that has come into my life because only thereby have I become the being I am and with whom I more or less identify myself. I cannot know whether otherwise I might have been of even less account. I can only be thankful to life, because I have become what I am through its joys and sorrows.

This question must be answered with a feeling of thankfulness to life. And it means a great deal if this thankfulness for earthly existence finds its way into the human soul. If certain deepenings of the soul are achieved and life is judged not out of emotion but out of the soul in its purity, then this thankfulness always arises. Though much of what life has brought us may be deplored, yet in many respects the regret is the expression of a complete error. For if what is regretted had not taken place we should not be what we actually are. The feeling that we can have about life amounts ultimately to this thankfulness. Thankfulness may also be felt even when we are not entirely in agreement with life, when we would like to have had more from our existence. We can also be thankful if we are given a small cake by someone from whom we might have expected the present of a large one. The fact that we had expected a large cake must certainly not weaken our thankfulness. And so it can truly be said that whatever, in our opinion, life has denied us—and this opinion may after all be erroneous—it has at all events brought us something. For what it has brought us we must develop the feeling of thankfulness. But when in all earnestness we develop the feeling of thankfulness—we need only reflect on this and it will be readily understood—there must be thankfulness for something else. Anyone who has developed thankfulness to life will be led, through this thankfulness itself, to recognition of the invisible spiritual Bestowers of life and to the transformation of memory in loving devotion to them.

The most beautiful way for one's personality to be led to the super-sensible is when the path leads through thankfulness to life. Thankfulness is also a way into the super-sensible and finally it becomes veneration and love for the life-bestowing spirit of man. Thankfulness gives birth to love and when love is born from thankfulness to life it opens the heart to the spiritual Powers permeating all existence. And as life began with our birth and we cannot possibly begin to be thankful to life merely from our birth as we then already obviously possessed certain qualities, it is therefore quite certain that thankfulness to life leads out of this life into pre-natal existence. In order to be fully aware of what I am now saying it must in any case be proved in actual life. If thankfulness develops out of unprejudiced observation of life, let us test whether love that quickens insight into the spirit is not actually born from this thankfulness, and we shall find that it is so. The question arising here can indeed only be answered through life itself, but life answers as I have indicated. When, however, through actual experiences we develop thankfulness and love to the life-bestowing spiritual Powers our feeling is quite different from anything associated with memory. We experience vividly, with intensity; in memory our experiences become pale shadows. Memory owes its existence to our experiences; but we now come to something that is mightier than our ordinary Ego.

When we consider the experiences that have come to us we are not concerned merely with our shadowy memories; we are concerned with something mighty, not with the shadow of our Ego flowing through time, but with the creator of this earthly Ego. Outside on every hand are the events to which we owe our existence, and when we consider these events we must acknowledge them to be powerful creators of our earthly Ego. We stand in the middle of them with our momentary, present Ego; behind us, if we look into our soul, are shadowy after-images of our experiences; before us, there is weaving destiny, the successive experiences of destiny which have formed and moulded our Ego. The transition from thinking to feeling belongs in fact to this vivid feeling of the shaping of destiny, for thankfulness and love can be experienced only in the realm of feeling. It is to this thankfulness and love that there comes a presentiment of an irrevocable destiny. When we have divined the existence of this ruling destiny, having experienced thankfulness and love, we begin to feel the power of the events that have made us what we are. Think of someone of forty years of age: he has made his mark. In order to take an extreme example, let us say that he has become a great poet—after all there have been such people! ... I might also say, not to go far afield, a noted physiologist, or physicist, but I will take an imaginary example. This man looks back to his eighteenth year; he goes through the events from his fortieth back to his eighteenth year and finds that at the age of eighteen he failed in his leaving examination. At that time it had been a great grief to him. But he had been obliged to arrange his life differently, for he had not enough money to repeat the year, or to go through the wide world as a student who had failed in his examination. Everything was already prepared! Had he passed the examination he would have become an excellent financial inspector, have done an immense amount of work, but have had no time to develop the facilities and powers lying in the underground of his soul. Of course it can be said that if these powers of phantasy exist they are so strong that in any case they would break through the financial activities! This can be said in the abstract, and is invariably said, but it is not true. Many a poet owes his special temperament and what he has become to the circumstance that something of the nature I have indicated happened to him. He will be grateful—if he sets any value on having become a famous poet—to the examiners who ‘failed’ him and did not hinder the course of his life by giving him ‘excellent’ in each subject. Whatever life has been, when we take it in its reality and not sentimentally we can certainly develop this thankfulness and acknowledge that we have been forged by the destiny that goes with us or against us. But at all events we must undergo this feeling in order to see destiny as it were weaving as living reality before us.

Here I should like to interpolate how the same experiences come to one who possesses Initiation-knowledge, one who can therefore see into the spiritual world. He directs his gaze—which has already been sharpened by the Imaginative and Inspired knowledge he possesses and about which you can read in the book Knowledge of the Higher Worlds—he directs his gaze to some particular experience. One who has intensified and strengthened his knowledge can direct his gaze with particular intensity to any experience he is undergoing at the present moment. If a man has Initiation-knowledge he is affected by the experience not less but more strongly than if he has no such knowledge. From the fact that he apparently undergoes experiences with much greater composure than a man who has not this knowledge it must not be concluded that he is less deeply moved by them. He is much more strongly affected than the other. It is only that he has acquired the power to look with composure and objectively at the hard experiences of life; deep down in his being he feels them more significantly than does the other. So when a man endowed with Imagination and Inspiration has experiences they are intense and strong; and because he has practised the relevant exercises in this and in the preceding life he can transform the experiences into pictures full of content, into actual Imaginations.

In what does this transformation consist? It consists in the fact that not only does what the eyes see of the events and experiences, stand there, but that the deeper spiritual connections become evident and a picture which is also carried about with one when the experience has passed, arises; the experience has passed but the picture is immediately present. The experience is intense and through Imagination the spiritual connections play into it. The soul is strongly stirred and it is then possible to look into the spiritual reality and to retain the experience. If a night goes by, the experience, which has become more intense because the astral body and the Ego go out of the physical body, is carried into the spiritual world. What has been experienced in the physical world with the physical and etheric bodies together can be experienced in the spiritual world only with the Ego and astral body; but then, on waking, it is driven back again into the physical body. But it is not brought back as if by the ordinary consciousness which is restricted to memory which gradually fades away. It is carried back in such a way that one's whole being is permeated as with a phantom; it is carried with one in full objectivity, in all intensity, and it resounds with the reality of another human being standing bodily before one.

And then again two or three days or nights pass. Then, after these two or three days or nights the following happens: what was first carried into the spiritual world by the Ego and astral body and has been brought back so that it is quickened and vibrates in the physical body, yes, even becomes articulate and stands behind the experiences as the ruling destiny. The experiences are not alone; they are now coloured by what produced them in former earthly lives, by the forecast of how they will go on working in the earthly lives to come. Just as we put memory as a shadowy image behind us, one who has Initiation-knowledge puts experiences in front of him so that they are clearly there before him. But they become as transparent as glass and behind them, like a mighty cosmic memory, stands the evolving karma, the objectivised memory. And one becomes aware that man not only has within him the shadowy memories of earthly life but that his karma is engraved around him in the cosmic ether, the Akashic Chronicle. Within is shadowy memory, without is the cosmic memory of our destiny through the lives on Earth even although it remains unknown to the ordinary-level consciousness.

Our passage through the world may be sketched like this (a sketch was made). We walk over the ground of the Earth bearing within us shadowy memories. If we were to picture to ourselves a human being with these shadowy memories in him we should have to picture them as a little cloud in the region of his head—where the head passes over into the body—gradually becoming more and more shadowy towards the body. As a human being moves through the world he is surrounded by an etheric aura in which all his experiences are inscribed but also everything that is inscribed in him from the previous earthly life. We have an inner memory and we have the world's memory outside us. Every human being is surrounded by this aura. Not only is the present life engraved in us by way of memory, but round about us the earthly lives of man are engraved. It is not always easy to decipher this memory, but it is there. The deciphering is difficult and in the instances of which I have spoken to you during the last few days, the deciphering was not easy to convert into knowledge. But everything is there. Man has not only a memory within him but an auric memory around him. It is not possible in a single moment to call up a remembrance of what one has passed through in life. The remembering always requires several days. Here, waking up and going to sleep must also come into play, as I have described. It can never be said that as some experience has been undergone one should necessarily remember how it was affected by earlier lives on Earth. It must be fixed in the mind clearly and imaginatively, permeated with inspiration; and then one must wait until it reveals itself. One must never speculate about the spiritual world in research, never invent anything, but only make the preparations for enabling something to reveal itself from the spiritual world. Anyone who believes he can force the spiritual world to reveal this or that to him will be very greatly mistaken; nothing but errors will come of it. Preparation must be made for what one may hope to receive out of the spiritual world more or less by grace.

Such is the path of knowledge which with Initiation-science can reveal karma. It reveals that each human being bears karma as a kind of aura around him. But through the path of thankfulness in life I have described it is possible to have an inkling of the karma a man carries around him in this way. This inkling of being enclosed in a karmic-auric mantle can come to one. It will take more than a period of a few days as would be possible with Initiation-knowledge, but it will come about gradually in the course of more intimate self-observation—often with respect to experiences lying in the far past, to which we turn our gaze. But if a certain event of our past life is mature enough for us to recognise that the forces of preparation in earlier earthly lives are playing into it, then we certainly have an inkling of the truth. Unfortunately, however, it is rare to-day for a man to penetrate so deeply into his own soul that he achieves this grasp of his own experiences or even comes near to developing the feeling of thankfulness. People to-day take life far too externally. They rush through life without pausing quietly to realise the nature of their various experiences. If one has grown up with a certain perception of the cosmic significance of human life, it may sometimes seem quite remarkable how far individuals are from being what they imagine themselves to be, how often they are simply borne along by life without making any strong individual impression.

Here too I should like to speak of concrete cases. I once came across a history teacher, who was a very clever man and also gave his pupils this impression. It might be said that when he chose to do so he lectured with a certain inner enthusiasm which lent emphasis to his words and when the right moment came, enthusiasm for him as a teacher was aroused in his pupils. There was something remarkable about him. I saw him at the time when he could arouse real enthusiasm among his pupils. But then life got the better of him; he became slack, and the enthusiasm that formerly permeated his lectures was no longer there. He read aloud from books, supposing that the pupils did not know them and would not come across them. But one day a pupil went up to the rostrum and saw the book from which he had been reading, whereupon all the pupils bought it, learnt its contents thoroughly and became excellent scholars. At last he became so superficial that he no longer knew what he was telling the pupils in his class. This transformation came about in a relatively short time, and one could not help being amazed to see how ineffectual he was after having quite recently been able to generate such enthusiasm. A few more years went by and the same teacher of whom I once heard a number of pupils say with the characteristic enthusiasm of youth: ‘There's a man for you! He is really enthusiastic about history ... one can learn something from him!’—this man ended quite remarkably, in a life of stagnation and triviality. In a few years he had degenerated to such an extent that he was obliged to live outside the town where he had been a teacher; he was so little respected that it was impossible for him to live in the town.

Such a change for the worse in destiny seems a great riddle and if life is taken earnestly enough it is through such cases that one begins to ask questions about karma. For very many other human beings seem to jog along in the same old groove, undergoing no such radical changes. To genuine spiritual knowledge such destinies as the one of which I have told you become great problems. Through spiritual knowledge we are led on the one hand to the great problems which in the lecture yesterday, at the end of a series of incarnations, brought us to Woodrow Wilson, but on the other hand, in the life immediately surrounding us we are led in thought to the great questions of human destiny. If we observe an example of this kind quite without prejudice we make the discovery that surely it cannot have its origin in the present life! And there will be countless other, quite different cases, where no such twists of destiny take place. We must therefore set to work with the strong desire to understand such questions of destiny. And other cases arise. I will give another example. These examples always seem to me to have been placed in my own path in order to give my conception of karma the right colouring.

I also came to know another man personally—also a teacher. He was even more revered than the one of whom I have spoken, quite extraordinarily revered by his pupils. They believed him to be the greatest sage at present existing in the world. This was the impression made upon his numerous pupils—not upon all, not, for instance, upon myself, but that is a personal matter and is not characteristic. And now a most remarkable thing happened. One could have believed from the relation of this man to his pupils—he had thrown himself into his teaching with all enthusiasm, with every fibre of his soul—that it apparently satisfied him. Yet one suddenly discovered that he was extremely glad not to be obliged to teach any longer; he had been appointed Director of a much less important school than the one in which he had formerly taught. He was delighted to be able to carry out the business of Director which was much more trivial work than actual teaching. And the most striking and surprising thing of all was that this same man, who could speak inspiringly about Homer and Aeschylus, who presented geography in a wonderful way to his pupils, that this same man ended in trivial party-political circles. It was absolutely incomprehensible!

I am bringing this forward only as an example for I could add any number more to the two cases of which I have spoken. They would be personalities about whom one has the feeling that their Ego has been little affected by life. They stand there as personalities upon whom life has little effect; it has touched them externally only. If it touched them when they were still near their training-college examination or during their University training when they listened with enthusiasm, then they were full of zest. If life has led them to trivialities, then they accommodate themselves to the trivial, and are contented too; nothing touches their souls at all deeply. If it were a matter of cleverness, of intelligence ... well, how many people would be Anthroposophists to-day! Millions of individuals to-day are clever enough to grasp Anthroposophy. What hinders them in our time from coming to Anthroposophy is that in their souls they take life superficially, letting life flow past in its depths, its superficialities, its banalities. They can be unimportant school-reformers for a time and after that sit all day in cafes and play billiards, without a single pause from morning until night. Such things do indeed go on in our modern life.

Here the great question arises as to why this happens. In the case of many souls it becomes apparent in what a remarkable way such circumstances have come about. A whole number of personalities such as those described through the two examples, lead one back into the early Christian centuries, when they had their most important previous incarnations. One is led to those centuries when in the South and also already to some extent in Middle Europe, Christianity had assumed the form which later on it has still in many ways retained. It was a time when, as I have shown in the book Christianity as Mystical Fact, the Mystery-wisdom out of which Christianity had grown, had faded away. The Mystery-wisdom had contained the experience of the Cosmic Christ, the knowledge that the Christ had proceeded from the Sun, which is a spiritual reality in the Cosmos, and had come to the Earth in order to be for the Earth that which He has indeed become. This knowledge which extends from the Earth into realms of cosmic spirituality existed among influential Christians in the first century and faded away in the fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh centuries A.D. Then it faded away so thoroughly that to-day it has come to the point—but it began at that time—when the strongest rebuke levelled against the conception of Christ held by Anthroposophy is that Anthroposophy regards Christ as a Cosmic Being, as a Sun Being. Everywhere among our opponents it is accounted to be Anthroposophy's greatest crime that it has a cosmological conception of Christ. It is said that this is a warming-up of what once existed as Gnostic Christianity.—Now people have no idea whatever of what Gnostic Christianity is. For with the exception of a few fragments such as the Pistis Sophia, from which little can be learnt, the Gnosis has become known to posterity only through the writings of its opponents. Hence nothing is really known about it. And now think about this question: if nothing were to remain known of Anthroposophy except the writings of my present opponents, if everything were destroyed except their writings—what would be said about Anthroposophy in times to come? Many critics endeavour to treat the numerous anthroposophical books in existence as the Gnostic writings were treated. If these critics were to succeed, nothing would remain except the writings of opponents. It would be to them that people would turn in the first place—to purely antagonistic literature! That would be extremely interesting! External research into the Gnosis had nothing to go on except the writings of opponents! So it is simply nonsense to talk about the ancient Gnosis having been raked up, for nobody could do such a thing without knowledge of the Gnosis derived from its authentic writings, but these have been lost! It cannot be understood from works mostly written by opponents and nothing else has come down to posterity. But even so, to connect the Christ with the Spirit of the Cosmos is accounted to be the greatest sin. In any real conception of the Gospels, every page, every sentence points to the cosmic nature of Christ. But that conception has gradually been rooted out. And it was at the time when the Gnosis had been most thoroughly exterminated that those individuals who when they come again to-day do not get to grips with life, were for the most part incarnated. In that previous incarnation, when they were already clever and intelligent, the culture of the age prevented them from knowing anything about the Earth's connection with the spiritual life in the Cosmos. It was because they stumbled, as it were, through life, thinking of the Earth as enclosed in itself with nothing but physical stars to be seen outside, that in the next incarnation they can only turn to meet the impacts of real life with stumbling steps.

And so we look into the destiny of men. We discover that the culture of the age exercised this influence upon a very large number of human beings, that it made them superficial and they come to the present incarnation already with the tendency to superficiality as I have described to you. For that is how you experience these men, who once, in an earlier incarnation lost connection with the spirit-powers in the Cosmos; in the incarnation following the decisive one referred to, they cannot find the connection with earthly life. But thoughts about karma must do more than introduce mere reflections into our life, they must bring will, activity. We must therefore bear constantly in mind: How will it be in the future, if to the inability to grasp the Spirit in the Cosmos is added the inability to grasp earthly life, if men's attitude to the trivialities of life is no different from their attitude to the deep realities of life? Then indeed the study of karma becomes a serious matter. It can thrive among us only if pursued with the greatest earnestness.

My wish to-day was to consider karma more from the aspect of feeling.

From many studies on the subject of the forming of human destiny or karma you will have realised that human life is not viewed in its entirety if sleep is left out of consideration. When a man reflects about himself with the ordinary consciousness of to-day, he looks back only upon the days because the nights are passed in unconsciousness. In the case of normal sleepers, therefore—as nowadays there are no Seven Sleepers—a third of life is disregarded. But for experience of the super-sensible and of man's participation in the spiritual world, it is this very third of life that is of essential importance. When a person has reached a definite age he looks back over the days he remembers, as far back as his memory goes. The nights are between the days but in his recollection the nights are left entirely out of consideration. A true retrospect is really not possible for a man of modern times because his observation of life is far too superficial. But if he were capable of carrying out such a retrospect, then precisely through what he does not see in the ordinary way he would have an indication of karma. Observation of the life of sleep gives significant hints of individual karma. Attention must above all be paid to the essential difference between the two moments of waking and going to sleep.

Ordinary consciousness can feel this difference instinctively, but Initiation-Science alone can throw light upon it. The difference between the moment of waking and the moment of going to sleep is particularly evident to people who are sick or ailing. They notice more readily than do those in good health that the moment of going to sleep is often accompanied by at least a slight feeling of pleasure. The moment of waking, on the other hand, has something slightly unpleasant about it; waking is accompanied by happiness only if the attention of the person concerned is at once turned to the outer world and when his consciousness of the outer world drowns what is rising up from within him. For many people the moments both of waking and of going to sleep are shrouded in a certain dimness. At the moment of going to sleep a man has the feeling that he is somehow dragging the past day's experiences along with him, that these become more and more nebulous and that he then abandons them. The moment of waking is accompanied by a slight feeling of oppression, a feeling of lifting oneself out of certain depths, bringing from them something that is carried over into the day and is got rid of only during the course of it. The result is that a certain feeling of unpleasantness may be associated with the experience of waking. An unpleasant sensation of taste may intensify into an equally unpleasant sensation of a stupefied head. People do not as a rule distinguish between these delicate experiences but they are unmistakeable indications of a great deal in human life. For what is really taking place? We describe quite correctly and from a certain standpoint very exactly what is taking place if we say: during sleep the physical and etheric bodies lie in the bed and the ego and astral body pass out into the spiritual world, returning into the physical and etheric bodies in the morning on waking. But how does this process take place? In order to make progress in our study of karma we will envisage the whole process which, to begin with, it is justifiable to describe in a rather abstract way.

This emergence of the ego and astral body from the physical and etheric bodies can be sketched like this. Let us suppose this figure to be the human being and here are the physical body and the etheric body. In the evening, when sleep begins, the ego and astral body move outwards. We will draw quite diagrammatically how the two members widen out, expand, but describe a kind of circle. In the morning, on waking, the ego and the astral body pass into the physical body again through the limbs, actually by way of the fingers and toes. The fact is that a circle is described and this statement must be taken more literally than is usually imagined. In reality, when a normal human being wakes in the morning, the picture seen by clairvoyance is not of the whole astral body and the whole ego being immediately within the physical and etheric bodies; on the contrary, ego and astral body pass only slowly and by degrees into the physical body from morning onwards until towards midday and afternoon. You will say that if this were really the case we should feel our ego and astral body moving only gradually from the tips of the fingers and toes towards the head. To very exact clairvoyant observation this is actually the case, only the person concerned does not inwardly feel it to be so, for the reason that the way in which these higher principles work is different from any kind of physical activity. You see, if a locomotive is propelling a carriage, it pushes forwards from the spot where it is at the moment. And if a railway line is, say 30 metres long and the engine is pushing forward, as long is needed for the first metre, then so long for the second, and so on, at a certain point there may be no effect from the engine if it has not yet reached thus far. But with spiritual conditions it is different; spiritual conditions are effective at other places as well as where they happen to be centred. So the waking hours of the day are used for the purpose of bringing our ego and astral body slowly into our physical and etheric bodies from the tips of our fingers and toes. But the ego and astral body begin to be active from the very beginning, from the moment of waking, so that one has the feeling of being completely filled by them. To clairvoyant sight, however, it is clear that an actual revolution takes place through the day; the complementary revolution takes place during the night. But a revolution also takes place—one that is less dependent upon time—when you have an afternoon nap. Here again the ego and astral body leave the physical and etheric bodies and the process adapts itself to your need of sleep. Sleep is a prophet and knows when you will wake although you yourself do not; your astral body under all circumstances knows it. It knows when you will wake even if as the result of some disturbance you sleep for a shorter time than you intend, even if before going to sleep you say that you want to sleep for only half-an-hour but you lie asleep for three hours instead. The astral body knows exactly how long you will sleep. It is an accurate prophet because the inner, spiritual circumstances are, in fact, different from the external circumstances experienced at the time.

You will certainly have realised that there is a very great difference between the process of going to sleep and that of waking. When we wake we have just been in the spiritual world and when we go to sleep we pass out of the physical world and into the spiritual world. A stream bears us along in the spiritual world between sleeping and waking and we also have experiences then—experiences which are, however, wrapt in unconsciousness. We have experiences during sleep which are, in fact, similar to those of the daytime, only they are of much greater intensity.

If you observe the soul's waking life you will find there, in the first place, the thought-experiences evoked by the various impressions made by life. But memories of the earthly life already past are always intermingled with these experiences. Try for once to consider how in every situation memories mingle with the momentary impressions made by life. In fact, if close attention is paid, one can get a picture of how, at different moments, life is a veritable hodge-podge, a mingling of memories and instantaneous impressions. There are two quite different factors: the thoughts which rise up from within and the thoughts which enter via the senses. These are quite different currents of the inner life and during sleep they are also in evidence. The stream of what is present (impressions of the daily life) on going to sleep continues during the night and perpetually flowing towards this is what we experience on waking.

These two currents stream towards each other: the one stream, experienced particularly on going to sleep, is the one already mentioned, the one that is experienced consciously, vividly and powerfully during the first decades after death when life is lived through again in reverse order. As I put it to you rather drastically: if you give someone a box on the ear, then, in living through the event after death you do not experience the anger which you consciously felt on Earth when giving the blow, or maybe the satisfaction at being able to express the anger. Instead, you undergo what the other person experienced, his physical pain and also his moral suffering. This is what you would experience, but in a picture, not yet in reality, if you could consciously continue your life when it is already becoming dim at the approach of sleep. If you were to pass into sleep with full, clear consciousness, you would live through the day's experiences in reverse, but in pictures. Whereas during the first decades after death it is all experienced as reality.

What I have described applies, approximately, to life by day in the waking state, when we are given up to outer life merely with our thoughts. But there is also the other current and this has something stupendous in it. We experience it on waking, as I have explained, but there is an element of heaviness in it which is carried into the day and is only gradually overcome; later in the day we become free of it. When this second stream is fully perceptible to Initiation vision it is seen to be a repository of the whole karmic past which passes before the human being every time he sleeps. Whereas a person can experience something of the karma that is taking shape for the future, when he wakes from sleep he has in the feeling I have described a faint, admittedly a very faint, glimpse of his present karma. The moment of waking brings a faint indication of what an individual bears within him from his past earthly lives. This is of course taken into what the astral body and the ego radiate when from the tips of the fingers and toes they spread through the body. A very burdensome karma, a karma that is difficult to bear, radiates unhealthy material deposits into the head, whereas a good karma radiates health-bringing deposits. And it is here that the spiritual and the natural make contact. The good in a man's karma radiates the healthy states of the organism into the head in the morning and clarifies it; healthy elements radiate upwards from good karma. From bad karma, from the residue of whatever guilt has been incurred, unhealthy deposits in the human organism are reduced to a kind of vapour which rises up into the head. The head then feels dull and heavy. The weaving of karma right into the physical can be perceived from the condition prevailing on waking in the morning. Karma takes shape through the alternating effects of sleeping and waking life. Now just as the karma that takes shape from what we have done every day of our life until its end, signifies in sleep during the night what the momentarily formed thoughts signify during the day, so does that mighty spectacle encountered when we have slept from evening to morning signify the cosmic memories of our past karma. Just as we have personal memories when we wake, from going to sleep until waking we have our karmic memories, if our consciousness extends so far. Memories of the different lives through which we have passed on Earth come to meet us. Soon after going to sleep there can be revealed to one who is able to understand such experiences through Initiation wisdom and Initiation insight, the last Earth-life, the last Earth-life but one and so on, right back to lives which become indefinite because the individual himself was then still living in the universal All, with a dreamlike, plant-like consciousness. Thus sleep is actually the window through which man looks at his karma. He becomes familiar with his karma and works at its further shaping during sleep through the deeds and thoughts which fill his waking life. This is the first weaving of karma: it takes place during sleep. We have already considered a second weaving that takes place during the first decades after death.

We shall acquire a more serious conception of life when the significance of sleep has been grasped in this way, when we realise that we sink into sleep every night because it is then that we work at the formation of our karma, and because it is during sleep that our karma from previous earthly lives finds the way whereby it can play a part in our daily life. From the night, karma gradually enters into our daily life and we bring something quite definite with us into the day. An individual who can recollect clearly how at one point in his life a particularly significant event occurred to him, will, if he has a more intimate, finely developed faculty of introspection, easily perceive that if, let us say, this event took place in the afternoon, ever since morning an inner restlessness was impelling him towards it. Most people who can perceive something of the sort will have had the feeling that from the morning onwards they had been moving towards an event that was to be significant in their life. Such an event—if it was a really fateful although entirely unexpected event—affected all the preceding hours of the day. On days when something important is to happen to us we do not wake up exactly as we do on days that take their usual course—only we do not notice it. Those who used to lead the life of peasants on the land—such people knew about these things and did not like to be torn suddenly out of sleep, because when there is no gradual transition into the waking life of day one is wrested away from such intimate experiences. Peasants say that on waking one should never look at the window at once but away from it, so that while the light is still dim one can become aware of what is emerging from sleep. The peasant will not at once look at the window nor does he like to be startled into waking suddenly; he likes to be wakened naturally, at the same time every morning by the church bell, so that he can prepare himself for this through the whole period of sleep. Then the day dawns, the church bell sounds into his life and then, in the early morning he has inklings of his destiny, of events of destiny, not those resulting from acts of free will. This is what he likes to happen and unlike people claiming to be highly civilised he would hate to be wakened by an alarum clock, for that drives one with dead certainty away from everything spiritual—much more forcibly, of course, than the window looked at immediately on waking. But our modern culture has introduced materialism into all the circumstances of life and will continue to do so. There is a great deal in modern life which makes it impossible for men to perceive the spirit living and weaving in the world. The more aware they become of that indefinite, half mystical influence which can radiate from sleep, the more clearly is their attention directed to their karma.

And now you will understand why I was able to say that we readily dream of individuals whom we meet in life and to whom we at once feel drawn or the reverse, quite independently of whatever outer impression they make. What is happening in such cases? These are individuals with whom we were together in earlier lives on Earth. Let us say that in the afternoon of 14th June, 1924, we have had the experience of meeting someone we perhaps dislike. We now carry into sleep the experience that gave rise to the feeling of dislike. But there, in sleep, the karma is revealed; this person stands before us as he was in the last earthly life or in the last but one, and so on; we meet him as he was in his earlier life. We encounter everything we experienced in connection with this individual who has now appeared and who simply reminded us of something—we meet him as a bodily figure, but in a spiritual way. No wonder that we begin to dream of him; with ordinary consciousness we cannot do otherwise. But if we come across an individual for the first time, however beautiful or ugly his features may be or however strongly he interests us, in our sleep we never meet him, for he was never with us in earlier lives on Earth. No wonder we cannot dream of him! You see how transparent such things become when he facts are examined spiritually.

Now what transpires between sleeping and waking in the forming of karma may follow a normal, perfectly normal course. Then a man will experience how his destiny takes shape as the fulfilment of what he brought upon himself in earlier earthly fives. Or he will experience the ultimate karmic value of what he thinks or does in this present fife. It will as a rule live itself out in what he thinks or does. But something quite different may come about.

Suppose a man who is living on the Earth today achieved in deed or thought something of real importance in an earlier life. The karmic result of this does not lie in the physical body or in the etheric body which are inherited from the parents, but it lies in the astral body and ego—the members which are outside the physical and etheric bodies during sleep at night. But suppose that this karmic load has such strength that it cannot wait until the age of life when the astral body may be weak, for in old age muscles and bones have already become brittle. Let us take seventy years—the patriarchal age—to be the normal length of a man's life on Earth. In these seventy years man's astral body and ego also undergo development. The astral body of a child can work strongly and forcefully upon the whole physical and etheric organism; it can hammer, as it were, upon muscles and bones. In old age this is no longer possible, for the astral body then becomes relatively weak. The strength of the ego increases but it withdraws into the weaker astral body and hence works with less power. The astral body, however, is particularly responsible here, for in old age it is no longer able to hammer effectively upon muscles and bones. Now imagine that someone is living at the present time, in the twentieth century, having lived before in the fourteenth or eleventh century. During his life in the eleventh century he performed a really significant act, one that made very strong impressions on the astral body. The ensuing result remains in the astral body and when the man comes again in the twentieth century it wants to be finally fulfilled and from this astral body to give the necessary stimulus. When the result of the experience in the eleventh century is of such significance that it cannot make use of a feeble, aged astral body hardly capable of performing important deeds, then it must use an astral body in the early years of life. And if the event has been so important as to eclipse all other events of life, a great deal must be compressed into the period while the astral body is still youthful. What does this mean? It means that the individual concerned will have a short life in the twentieth-century incarnation. Here you see how the length of life is determined by the consequences of former earthly thoughts and deeds being anchored in the astral body.

We now go further. Think, for instance, of an astral body that is positively inflated as the result of important deeds—particularly evil deeds—in an earlier incarnation; such deeds inflate the astral body and it makes a strong impact upon the physical and etheric bodies. This strong impact is not healthy; only a certain normal relation of the astral body to the physical and etheric bodies is healthy. The strong impact which can, for instance, be caused by bad karma, batters the organs, softens them and causes disease. Now comes the second incarnation. Such action or thinking in the eleventh century can inflate the astral body, thereby condemning the individual to death at an early age. But he may fall ill in any case, apart from this violent impact; he may have a severe illness and die from it. That is the physical aspect. For when we see what is going on in the person's physical body, we say: he is ill and the illness ends in death; he falls ill at the age of twenty-five and dies at thirty in consequence of the illness.

Is this also the spiritual aspect? Is this also what would be said by Initiation Science? No! Initiation Science would say the opposite. For it is precisely the earlier significant action or thought that brings about the death in the next earthly life; the deed in the eleventh century brings about the death in the twentieth century. And the death sends the illness on in advance ... a man becomes ill so that he may die at the right moment. The consequence of the later death, which is a karmic necessity, is, as you now realise, the illness which is sent in advance. That is the spiritual aspect. When one rises from the physical world to the spiritual world everything is in fact reversed; it takes the opposite course and we see how the illness is karmically brought into man. That is the karmic aspect of illness. This karmic aspect of illness can be an extremely important factor for diagnosis. It need not immediately be discussed with the patient but it may certainly be important. If you bear in mind that what is contained in karma has its own definite place, you will certainly discover it.

Now if the significant incident, action or thought affecting another human being or some particular matter occurred in an immediately preceding incarnation, let us say in the eleventh century, when we are asleep we encounter what took place in that century before anything dating from a still earlier incarnation, let us say in the second century B.C. Thus we gradually encounter what has happened to us in earlier earthly lives. But if one begins here (pointing to the sketch) then what is encountered first is what has made the way from here to here. The karma comes to meet us; but this means that what is above here has come from what is below, perhaps from the heart; something that is low down in the organism and was affected in the previous incarnation comes, however, from the head. In the case of illness, therefore, when we see how far back the influential events lie, karma can indicate to us that an affection, let us say, of the legs, comes from incarnations in the relatively near past, whereas a symptom of illness in the head comes from incarnations in the relatively far distant past. Thus the transition from the spiritual into the physical can also be indicated by karma.

What results from this is extremely important for therapy. For where must we seek the remedy for illness affecting the head and for illness affecting the legs? The remedy for illness affecting the head will be found in what existed far, far back in the evolutionary process of Nature, in what is reminiscent of very early Nature-processes, for instance, mushrooms, which in their present imperfect form recapitulate an earlier plant formation, or in algae and lichens, or, in the case of the fully developed plant, in the root, since that is the part that has remained at the earliest stage. Illness in the lower body and more towards its periphery will have to be healed with what appeared at a later stage in the evolution of Nature, namely, blossoms, flowering plants or also with later formations in the mineral kingdom. Whatever is a late development in man must be healed with what is also a late development in Nature. In the head, too, there are, of course, organs which are comparatively late formations. When the Earth was still recapitulating the Moon-evolution and Sun-evolution, man existed without his present eyes, in general without sense-organs, although the first rudiments of them were already present during the Saturn-evolution. As they are today, mirroring the outer world inwardly, they are a relatively late product of evolution, appearing at the same time, for instance, as siliceous substance in its present form on the Earth. Silica as it is today is a late product in the evolution of the world of Nature, although its rudiments were laid in the far, far past.

Hence when silicic acid is correctly administered as a remedy it acts upon everything belonging to the nerves-and-senses system, especially the senses, through the whole organism. In their present form the senses developed in an age when rocks containing silica also appeared in their present form. In the first incarnation which can still be called an incarnation, when with our whole bodily make-up we were a more integral part of Nature, we lived, simply in accordance with our karma, an existence shared with different forms of plant and animal life, the successors of which are here to-day. The mushrooms and the roots of plants are unlike what they were in that early epoch but in a certain way what is present to-day in the mushrooms, lichens, algae and roots of plants is reminiscent of the conditions prevailing in our first definite incarnation. In the blossoms and flowering plants of today and in minerals at a corresponding stage ... (a gap in the transcript here). I bring this before you only to show how a true observation of karma leads to stages in the evolution of Nature. And from the relation of Nature to Man we can recognise how to heal. Every branch of life must ultimately be widened in such a way that it gradually becomes spiritual knowledge. Everything else is so much groping and fumbling, an existence in spiritual darkness, and it is this that has brought mankind into the present situation. If men are to emerge from it again they must grasp the reason for it in clear consciousness, that is to say, knowledge of the physical must be widened to knowledge of the spiritual. And nothing can lead more positively to realisation of the spiritual than the study of karma.

When we picture how the forming of karma proceeds from sleep, how again it passes into and through sleep, how the normal forming of karma impels a man to action, makes his action again subject to karma and how he thus lives out the ordinary karma of life—from all this we see how karma works. When again we see how the life of an individual is shortened and he dies at an early age, indicating that karma has inflated his astral body and must make strong demands upon it as the result of past deeds, thus contributing to illness—everywhere the working of karma is in evidence. Or let us suppose a man has an accident and is ill as a result; then, under certain circumstances, such an accident—which is possibly, but not necessarily, determined by karma—can continue to be a factor in the further course of karma through the following lives on Earth. Illness may also be the beginning of karma and then it will be found that such illnesses make going to sleep an unwelcome and difficult process. But when illnesses are the beginning of karma they have something consoling about them.

In the case of many illnesses the following must be said: illnesses that are a fulfilment of karma, that make waking unpleasant, point to previous experiences; illnesses that are an augury of future karma and make going to sleep an unwelcome and difficult process are the beginning of good karma. For there will be compensation for what is suffered in such an illness. We have the pain now and afterwards the compensation for the pain, the uplifting, joyous experience. A great deal in life looks different when viewed from the spiritual and not from the physical standpoint. It is sometimes a thoroughly painful physical experience not to be able to sleep, but true observation of the spiritual aspect can be comforting. And if we do not value the momentary physical effect above the spiritual life we can actually say: Thank goodness that I so often have difficulty in going to sleep, for that is a sign that I shall experience much that will be uplifting in my future earthly life; a great deal from my present life will pass into the next one.

Sleeplessness can sometimes be a good comforter and if it were not karmically beneficial in its spiritual aspect, it would be much more harmful than it actually is. Many people tell one such legends about their long bouts of sleeplessness that from the medical point of view one might well ask how comes it that they are still alive! Normal sleep is essential for normal life. People tell one for how long they have not slept; one can only wonder that they are still alive for they really ought to be dead and yet they are not! But in such circumstances the vivifying spiritual element contained in the ego penetrates into life as compensation. To a brief survey of life it is obvious that really restful sleep after hard struggles and hard work is also at times desirable. But to lie in complete restfulness without sleeping and to pass the night quietly and fully awake is nevertheless the more desirable because when it is done of set purpose a person then becomes more and more aware of the Eternal. But the will must be in operation; the condition must not, in essentials at least, be due to physiological causes. Nevertheless there is karmic consolation for difficulty in going to sleep and in sleeplessness, for this really points to future karma, points to the future in certain respects.

Let us compare what we learn through direct experiences about our relation to life between birth and death with what we must feel inwardly about the connection between our moral behaviour, thoughts and acts and the consequences of this behaviour. We began these evening lectures with just such studies and we will conclude with the same theme.

When on the one hand we consider how our moral deeds proceed from our purposes, from our whole attitude of soul, we realise that if we observe ourselves without prejudice, one category of our actions must be described as morally good, fit to become part of the world-order; the other category is of actions that must be described as morally bad, morally imperfect, unworthy to become part of the world-order. But whatever comes to pass through men cannot have a momentary significance only—this is admitted by everybody. And the same applies to the world of Nature. Everything has its effects, its consequences, becomes the cause of something or is itself the effect of something. Human life would certainly not be in keeping with the course of world events if what it embraces were not also cause and effect. But whereas we can be completely satisfied when we observe Nature and clearly perceive cause and effect, we certainly cannot be satisfied about the connection between our moral experiences and the course taken by the world-order. There appears to be no direct connection in the physical happenings between what ought to be the result of the moral disposition of our soul and what actually comes to pass in the course of physical life. And if we consider happenings in wider circles of people we see that a man who in respect of his soul-life seems to be morally good, encounters misfortune and evil in the world, while a man who seems inwardly weak and immoral may encounter external events that are in no way a requital for what is harboured in his soul. In short, we find no connection between what a man experiences as his destiny and the essential quality of his will. It could be called an irresponsible illusion if anyone were to deceive himself that in the one life on Earth the destiny he encounters is in any way the effect of his moral will. The bad can be fortunate, the good unfortunate. These two statements really summarise that characteristic of earthly life which makes it incomprehensible, to begin with, to human faculties. And we shall see from this that man, as he is now placed in the world, is himself not in a position to bring about the consequences answering to his deeds. In the single life on Earth morality remains an inner disposition, an inner attunement of the soul; it cannot become directly manifest in outer physical reality. Admittedly, the inner disposition of the soul can be a direct result of the moral attitude. We can be inwardly contented with our good conduct, in spite of being hit by misfortune that is in crass contrast to what we have actually done; but the experience brought about in this way remains in the realm of the soul. Man must acknowledge that in physical life he is not in a position to bring to outward manifestation in the world the inner, moral content of his soul.

When we study karma as we have been doing during the last few days, seeing how earlier lives work over into later incarnations, we realise that in the moral sphere of the life of soul the earlier is inwardly connected with the later. Put briefly, however, this means that here, in physical life on Earth, man has a constitution which forces back his moral conduct into the realm of soul, does not allow it to take effect in one earthly life. In a single earthly life man is powerless to give effect to the moral content he bears in his soul. His physical corporality, his etheric substantiality, make him powerless. In the life between death and a new birth, however, he becomes as powerful as here in physical life he is powerless. But if in his physical life the physical and etheric bodies render him powerless, there must be something in the life between death and a new birth that enables him to give effect to this soul-content, to make it a reality there, and physical reality too in later lives on Earth. On Earth we live in our physical and etheric bodies amid the kingdoms of Nature and it is what we have to take from Nature for these bodies that renders us powerless. With our own being of soul-and-spirit which passes through the gate of death we become powerful after death because we are then united with the Beings of the higher Hierarchies, just as on Earth we are united with the kingdoms of Nature. The Beings of the Hierarchies belong, as we know, to three realms: to the lowest realm belong the Archai, Archangeloi, Angeloi; to the middle realm belong Exousiai, Dynamis, Kyriotetes; to the highest realm belong Thrones, Cherubim, Seraphim. In the course of these lectures we have learnt how man lives between death and a new birth with the inmost essence of the stars and hence with these higher Hierarchies. But in order that the moral content of the soul may come to expression in life on Earth, the following must take place.

It is true that, to begin with, we have to retain in our soul the effects of our moral attitude of thought, feeling and will; we have to wait until in the life between death and a new birth we are vouchsafed the help of the Beings of the higher Hierarchies. What lies in our soul is first carried through the spiritual world, emerges again in a new earthly life and appears then in the form in which it is right to appear. For what should we be if in earthly life we could bring to direct fulfilment the moral content of our soul? We should not be typical men of terrestrial life! Just imagine that you bore within your soul a moral content that quite justifiably you considered could be capable of creating a favourable world-situation and that you could actually bring it about. What would you be then? You would be magicians, not typical men of the Earth! For when a power of spirit-and-soul is brought to direct expression, that is an essentially magical achievement. In our present cycle of existence man is no magician in the single life between birth and death. But he is a magician when, together with the Beings of the Hierarchies, he is active between death and a new birth and is able to continue these activities when he again descends into life on Earth. The karmic development through these two entirely different modes of existence is in fact the process where the human being works magically. The physical human being standing before us in external life is membered—as I have shown at the end of the book Von Seelenratseln (Riddles of the Soul)¹—into the nerves-senses man, the rhythmic man and the metabolic-limb man. Metabolism and limbs are connected; when we use our limbs, metabolism is activated and must continue; forces in man must be used up. Metabolism must continue in inner experience too. But both are related. When we observe the human metabolic system as it operates in the physical body, we may be tempted at first to regard it as man's lowest system. There are people who claim to be idealists because they have accustomed themselves to look down with a certain superciliousness upon the metabolic-limb system. It is the lowest system, the system that the respectable idealist would prefer to be without. But without it earthly life would be impossible; it is the system that represents man in his imperfection in earthly life.

Now the facts of the matter are these. In the physical human form the metabolic-limb system is the lowest and therefore has little to do for what is essentially human in earthly life, but it is connected in this earthly life with the Beings of the highest Hierarchy, the Thrones, the Cherubim, the Seraphim. As we move about the world or work with our hands, in this mysterious activity the activity of the Thrones, Cherubim and Seraphim is present. These Beings remain helpers when man's life continues between death and a new birth. They remain helpers. Now it is quite erroneous to believe that the moral content of the soul proceeds from the head. In reality, regarded from a higher point of view, man's head is by no means such a tremendously important organ. The head is really more or less a mirror of the external world, and if we had the head alone we should know about nothing except the external world. The head simply reflects the external world. The experiences of the head are mirrorings, reflections of the external world. Our inner, moral impulses do not proceed from the head but from the region of the metabolic-limb system, not, however, from the physical system but from its constitution of soul-and spirit wherein Thrones and Cherubim and Seraphim are living.

And so to acquire a right view of man we must picture the following.—(a drawing was made). This third member of man's constitution, the metabolic-limb system, seems at first to be imperfect, indeed it might be said that in respect of its physical and etheric organisation it is unworthy of the human being. But something else lies within it, or rather this system lies within something else; the Thrones live within it, the Cherubim weave within it, the Seraphim flame within it. When man passes through the gate of death, everything that underlies the physical metabolic-limb system falls away from him and with his ego he remains in the realm wherein he previously existed, namely in the realm of the Thrones, Cherubim and Seraphim. He then separates from them but they continue to develop the moral quality of the soul. Here on Earth man looks upwards, to the Heavens, in order to divine a higher reality, a spiritual-super-sensible reality. He does this as long as he is on the Earth. If he is living between death and a new birth he looks downwards and beholds what the moral content of his soul becomes as a result of the deeds of the Cherubim, Seraphim and Thrones. There below, when he descends again to the Earth, the consequences are fulfilled; there the Cherubim, Seraphim and Thrones are working to bring about the fulfilment of the spiritual reality.

And so, after we have become attentive to it, we see how in a magical way man sends the consequences of his deeds of the present into the next earthly life.

Now that we have considered the metabolic-limb system, let us turn our attention to its polar opposite, the nerves-and-senses system. This, of course, extends through the whole organism but is established primarily in the head. We will therefore consider the human head. It is a fact that through the head man experiences only a reflection of the existing external world. His thoughts, his mental conceptions in which alone, as I have said, he is really awake, are actually only reflections from outside by way of the head. But when a man masters Initiation Science, at first through Imaginative knowledge, then, as you know, through its metamorphosis into knowledge through Inspiration and then through Intuition, he is able to look into his earlier lives on Earth—but he sees them then in their spiritual form. In the spiritual world, knowledge itself is reality. And the experience of a man who with genuine Initiation-knowledge is able to look into earlier earthly lives is that he is living not only, say, on June 15th, 1924, but is himself present through the course of the earlier lives; he not only looks into those earlier lives but he looks back upon his whole being. It is not abstract, theoretical observation but direct identification with his own former existence. His inner life is greatly stirred when he begins to experience his earlier earthly lives. But this experience makes it possible to change the focus of his world-outlook. What is the usual focus of a world-outlook? The usual focus is the head. This head with its physical organisation as the foundation, this head which was yours in previous earthly lives and in the immediately preceding life, cannot be made the focus of your world-outlook when you have once experienced earlier incarnations, for it has long since passed away. Only the spiritual principle that was present in the head can be made the focal starting-point of a world-outlook. Initiation therefore consists in this: through going back into his former existence on Earth, man spiritualises himself. All clairvoyance in the best sense of the word actually means going back into earlier earthly lives. To be initiated means not to remain within the limits of the present life but to look at the things of the world with the faculties that were ours in earlier earthly existence. Whereas in the ordinary course we are such imperfect beings in earthly life that we see only the external physical world, the beings we were in earlier existences had already become clairvoyant. And as a rule when we experience the immediately preceding incarnation we make the discovery that the person we were then was already much nearer perfection.

How does it come about that what we could have become after the earlier life has not been achieved? Why is this? You see, if as human beings having nothing but a head we were to pass from one earthly life to another, we should be as perfect in the later life as in the former, but we have the other systems as well as the head. And since the magical principle in man lies in the metabolic-limb system which in turn works in karma, karma brings the head across from one earthly life to another. Thus karma is directly active in the formation of the head. And if we begin to develop an unprejudiced view of man in this field, we shall gradually learn to read a great deal about his karma from the physiognomy of his head. To look at the human head with the ordinary consciousness of today is just the same as taking Goethe's Faust and beginning “I—h-a-v-e—s-t-u-d-i-e-d—a-l-a-s...” because then one knows only the letters and cannot read. When we have learnt to read we shall understand what these strange signs mean. As I said once before, this trivial fact brings it about that whereas we should otherwise see only about thirty different shapes of letters in books, we have Goethe's Faust, Hegel's Logic, the Bible, and so on, simply because we have learnt to read. In the same way we can learn to read the living things around us. The progress from merely spelling the form of the human head and reading it leads into the secrets of the karma of that particular person. As regards the outwardly perceptible form of the head we may say that every human being has his own particular head; no single individual has exactly the same shaped head as another. Although individuals often look alike, they are not alike in respect of their karma. In the head-formation the karma of a man's past is revealed to physical sense-perception. In the metabolic-limb system lies future karma; spiritually concealed, invisibly it is there. So that if we speak of man in the spiritual sense we can say: Man is so constituted that on the one hand he makes his past karma visible and on the other hand he bears his future karma invisibly within him.

In this way we can eventually acquire an inwardly spiritual view of the human being. Man's metabolic-limb system is inferior in respect of its physical and etheric nature only, for in that system live the Beings of the highest Hierarchy. When we consider the physical-material aspect of the head it is undoubtedly the most perfect system because it bears within it, externally and visibly, what works over spiritually from earlier earthly lives. The head is generally the most highly valued, but it is not the most perfect in a spiritual respect. For whereas Thrones, Cherubim and Seraphim live in the metabolic-limb system, in the head-system live Archai, Archangeloi, Angeloi. It is they who stand behind everything we experience with our head in the physical world of sense. They live in us, in our head-system, and are active behind our consciousness; they encounter the effects of the physical world and mirror them back, and we become conscious only of the reflections. What we are aware of in our head-system is only the semblance of the activities of the Archai, Archangeloi and Angeloi. (A drawing was made). If I am to continue this diagram I must say: the Archai, Archangeloi and Angeloi are working, at the other pole, in the head-system.—I always use the nomenclature of the earlier Christian world-conception in which the spiritual connection was still intact, although the spiritual Beings may just as well be given other names.

Between the nerves-and-senses system which is based primarily in the head and the metabolic-limb system, man has the rhythmic system in which everything that is active between the lungs and the heart is contained. In all this activity live the Beings of the Hierarchy of the Exousiai. Dynamis, Kyriotetes.

In concluding our studies of karma we are led again to the realisation that while man faces the three kingdoms of Nature here on Earth, behind him are the spiritual kingdoms of the Hierarchies, one above the other. And as here on the Earth his physical body encompasses him and prevents him from bringing to fulfilment by magic the moral forces of his soul, after death the world of the Hierarchies receives him and enables him to make effective magically for the next incarnation what he cannot achieve in one earthly life. When a man passes over from one earthly life to the next he would in all circumstances, if his further evolution were to proceed consistently, develop clairvoyance with the head-system yielded by the former life; Archai, Archangeloi and Angeloi would lead him to clairvoyance. Hence if a man is to have insight into spiritual reality—insight that without an iota of superstition or charlatanry can be called clairvoyance—he must be able to project himself with a certain cosmic consciousness into his previous life on Earth, although in the external world he has progressed to his present incarnation.

Thus, if someone is living, let us say, in the twentieth century, he uses the body which this century can provide and for knowledge he must avail himself of the head. He cannot be clairvoyant. But let us suppose he were transported into a previous earthly life, say in the tenth or eleventh century, as the result of his meditative exercises now, in this twentieth century. He is not the same person as he was at that earlier time, but through his own forces he has brought it about spiritually that now, in the twentieth century, he is the man he was in that earlier epoch—a clairvoyant personality. Clairvoyance can reveal this clearly to Initiation-knowledge during life in the physical world. When we look closely into human life, however, it is revealed to clairvoyant consciousness that in the deeper impulses of a man's nature, in the deeper foundations of his soul, what was present in a former incarnation rises up again in a different form. It is therefore essential, if we wish to approach in earnest such matters as the working of karma, that earthly experience must be of a more spiritual character than is usual.

I will elaborate what I have been saying by means of an example. You know from the way in which I have given such examples that they are the findings of spiritual investigation undertaken with a deep sense of responsibility.

A certain individual lived in the European-Asiatic Orient, somewhat earlier than the founding of Christianity, with a task that was far from his liking. It was in an epoch when slavery was still prevalent and his task was to supervise a number of slaves belonging to a certain owner. Supersensible vision leads us to a situation where a human soul, incarnated at that time in the body of a slave-overseer, was obliged to carry out whatever the cruel owner of these slaves decreed. The slaves were in the care of the overseer and relationships of an ethical nature developed between them. But there was deep conflict in the soul of this overseer. It went against the grain to carry out the often cruel, disciplinary punishments ordered by his master. Nevertheless he obeyed, because he was accustomed to these circumstances and because it was natural at that time to act in such a way. Now just consider for a moment: are people to-day always what they would like to be? They do not often think about this; they deceive themselves about the disharmony between what they are and what they would like to be. This individual too was not what he would have liked to be, but intrinsically he had deep sympathy, deep love, for all the unhappy slaves upon whom he was obliged to inflict these cruelties. Social customs, so to say, caused him to hurt the slaves in many ways. He therefore shared the responsibility, although the master and owner of the slaves was primarily the culprit.

Both individualities were born again in the middle of the Middle Ages, and now as a married couple. The former slave-owner came again in a male incarnation, the overseer came as a woman. In the middle of the Middle Ages the reincarnated slave-owner held a position in a certain village commune, a position that was by no means pleasant, for he was a kind of police jailer and was held responsible for whatever happened in the commune; he felt that life was full of hardships. If we look for an explanation we find that these villagers were for the most part reincarnations of the slaves whom he had formerly owned and whom he had caused to be ill-treated by his overseer. The karmic result turned out to be that the former slave-owner, although he had become a fairly high official, was nevertheless the village jailer, who together with his wife was held responsible for whatever happened in the commune. But at the same time, because the wife shared in all the suffering that the one-time slaves caused her husband, the karma was fulfilled between her—the former overseer—and the slave-owner. The bond between these two was dissolved but not the tie between the one-time overseer, now incarnated as a woman, and the members of the commune. They came together again in the nineteenth century. The earlier overseer, who in a certain way had adjusted his relation to the former master, came again as the great educational reformer Pestalozzi, and those who had been the slaves under him were the children who received such infinite benefit from his educational principles.

These things must be viewed not merely with the prosaic intellect, but with soul, with feeling and with love which must become as clear and brilliant as the intellect and be able to develop genuine knowledge. The intellect can develop only pictures of outer Nature, and anyone who thinks that he gets something more than pictures deceives himself. It is possible to get more only if soul, feeling and love become forces of knowledge, and it is only by going back to earlier karma that we are gradually able to realise how karma works. But the whole soul must participate, and the content of these explanations of karma must be grasped by the whole being of man.

It really amounts to this: the soul must penetrate into the very essence of the Anthroposophical Movement. A short time ago I was deeply moved by a certain incident. What I have told you about Pestalozzi I had also said in a lecture in Dornach, and later on had occasion to visit an official in Basle, accompanied by another member of the Dornach Executive. The well-known picture of Pestalozzi among the children was hanging on the wall in the waiting-room. It was known to the member of the Vorstand who was with me. He was deeply moved by it and he said: When one looks at this faithful portrayal of Pestalozzi, one realises that such a situation can only have come about in the way that is revealed through Anthroposophy. This kind of thing is just what ought to occur more often, this realisation in direct experience of what has been discovered by anthroposophical investigations.

These indications of karma which I have now been able, to my great satisfaction, to give you, cannot make demands merely upon your intellect. What has been presented during these eight days calls not merely upon intellect but upon heart, upon the whole soul. And only when you have gathered together all that I have said about the reincarnation of historical personalities, about observation of individual karma, about the influences of sleeping and waking life in the development of karma and let it all work in your hearts and souls, will a comprehensive grasp of the working of karma in individual personalities result from these studies.

Our civilisation will be rescued from the grip of its present decline only if what is so readily taken to-day merely in an intellectualistic sense penetrates into the whole being of man. What does an Oriental say nowadays about Western man? The spirituality of an Oriental at the present time is not of a kind that we can adopt forthwith, but it is a spirituality which in the ancient past was able to gaze deeply into the super-sensible worlds. To-day only traces have remained but in his soul an Oriental still has the feeling of what was once experienced in the East, namely, living communion with the spirit inherent in all things. Such is the experience of those who are not entirely steeped in materialism. One Oriental who had a feeling for the spirituality in Eastern wisdom said the following as he contemplated Western civilisation: ‘Its essential characteristic is that it is only façade and has no foundations. The façade stands on the ground without any solid foundations.’—And this Oriental went on to say: ‘Yes, in nearly everything that belongs to his civilisation, Western man actually starts from the standpoint of his ego, the ego that is enclosed within a single life and therefore has no reality. It has reality only when it emerges from its bounds and leads into the successive earthly lives.’ Realisation of existence in successive earthly lives is regarded by the Oriental as the foundation-structure and remaining with the ego that is enclosed between birth and death he regards as the façade. Have we not heard to-day that when a man looks into spiritual reality he will look back into the past? If he contemplates karmic development with its magical processes he must have accepted the principle of successive incarnations. Then the ego widens out and will no longer be egotistic. The Oriental says that the European can recognise the ego only within the limits of birth and death and this he calls the egotism of the European. So he says that European, indeed Western civilisation as a whole, is only façade and has no foundation-structure; moreover that if this state of things continues and Western civilisation persists in recognising only the ego living between birth and death, the separate stones of the façade might one day fall apart as the façade has no foundation. This picture of the single stones crumbling away from the façade has actually arisen in many oriental souls, living as they do, largely in Imaginations. It is insight into such matters as have been studied here during these last few days that can add the foundation-structure and supplement the mere façade. Contemplation of the karma which reaches from earthly life to earthly life leads man beyond the restricted activity that is limited to a single life on Earth.

In what must be our final lecture, I should now like to place before your souls a vista into the cultural task of Anthroposophy. If it works on within you, revealing many things, you will become co-workers in the task of creating the foundation-structure for a true and genuine façade of Western civilisation. I have nothing to add to what has often been said by men of the East. What they really mean is this: the West has departed too far from the spirit, it can no longer find the foundation-structure; the East must contribute what it still possesses from ancient times in order that civilisation on Earth may not perish.

Whether this terrible fate that is prophesied for Western civilisation by all clear-sighted Orientals can be avoided, depends upon endeavours such as those of Anthroposophy. Resolute will is needed to penetrate into the spiritual world, in order that its forces may again be received into the hearts of men. Hence a community of human beings who have come together, as you have done, for spiritual activity, has grasped what this truly means only if the resolution is taken to apply all the forces of the will to the task of furthering, for the sake of humanity, experience of the spirit. My purpose in these lectures was to point the way to experience of spiritual reality and thus to the moral principle that is everywhere implicit in it. For this reason I wanted in these hours when we could be together again, to give you just what I have given. But in Anthroposophy spiritual things should be taken in earnest at all times, during every moment, not only during every lecture-hour. In Anthroposophy, therefore, it is true to say that when we are beside one another in space, we are together physically, but because we recognise spiritual reality we know that we are also together even when physically apart. And as I know that some of you here must travel back after the lecture, I will add this.—As we make our farewells let us say to ourselves that we will be true anthroposophists by remaining together in our souls through the spirit which becomes alive in us through our view of life. Let those of us who are now going away again say to our friends of the Breslau Group: we too will think about what we have been able to acquire for our own souls and those of others while working together with you. We will feel that we are with you even when we have gone away from this room and we hope that the Breslau friends too will think of those who were so glad to have been among them at this time.

• 1. See The Case for Anthroposophy. Steiner/Barfield, (Rudolf Steiner Press).

You can be sure of this: anyone who is free from prejudice takes the youth movement of today very seriously indeed. If you look around, not among your contemporaries, but among the older people of today, it may seem to you that the youth movement is not taken seriously, but it is quite certainly taken seriously by those who attempt real spiritual development.

Several years have passed since a small group of young people entered the Anthroposophical Society: they did not want simply to participate as hearers of what the Society gives, but brought to it those thoughts and feelings which young people today regard as characteristic of their age. This small group, which met in Stuttgart a few years ago, put before the anthroposophical movement the question: “How can you give us a place in this movement?” I believe that from my side this question was really understood at that time. It is not always easy to understand the question which a genuinely seeking human being puts to his time; and young people now have a number of questions, entirely justified, which cannot be expressed quite clearly.

At the time when the youth movement and the anthroposophical movement first came into contact, it really seemed to me as if they were being led together by a kind of destiny, a kind of Karma. I must still look on it in this way; the youth movement and the anthroposophical movement have by an inner destiny to take each other into account. When I call up all that I have experienced through many decades in the endeavour to bring about a community among human beings who wish to seek for the spirit, and relate this to what has developed as a youth movement since about the turn of the century, I have to say that what was felt by a very small number forty years ago, and was then hardly noticed, because so few were concerned, is felt today within a youth movement which is becoming more and more widespread. In your words of greeting it was well expressed—how difficult it really is becoming for a young human being to live.

Although at other times there has always been a kind of youth movement, it was different from what it is today. If one talks to older people about the youth movement, they often say, “Oh well, young people always felt different from the elderly, always wanted something different. That wears off, balances itself out. The youth movement of today need not be regarded differently from the opposition brought by the younger generation against older generations at all times in the past.”

From many sides I have heard this answer to the burning question of the youth movement of today. Nevertheless this answer is entirely wrong; and herein lies an immense difficulty. Always in the past there was something among younger people, however radical they appeared, which could be called a certain recognition for the institutions and methods of life founded by older people. The young could regard it as an ideal to grow into the things passed down from older times, step by step. It is no longer so today. It is not just a question of involvement in academic life, but of the fact that the young human being, if he intends to go on living, has to grow into the institutions brought about by the older people, and here the young feel themselves strangers; they are met by what they have to regard as a kind of death. They see the whole way in which older people behave within these institutions as something masked. The young feel their own inner human character as alive, and around they see nothing but masked faces. This is something that can bring the young to despair—that they do not find human beings among older people, but for the most part only masks. It is really so that men come to meet one like imprints, forms stamped in wax, representing classes, callings, or even ideals—but they do not meet one as full, living human beings.

Though it may sound rather abstract, it is a very real fact in human feeling that we are standing at a turning-point of time, as mankind has not stood through all history or indeed through most of pre-history. I do not like speaking about times of transition; there is always a transition from what went before to what is coming; all that matters is the specific change that is going on. But it is a fact that mankind stands today at a turning-point as never before, in historic or in prehistoric times. Significant things are going on in the depths of the human soul, not so much in consciousness as in the depths—and these are really processes of the spiritual world, not limited to the physical world.

We hear it said that at the turning-point from the nineteenth to the twentieth century, the so-called Dark Age came to an end, and a new Age of Light has begun. Anyone who can look into the spiritual world knows quite certainly that this is so. The fact that not much light has yet appeared does not disprove it; men are accustomed to the old darkness, and—just as a ball which has been thrown goes on rolling—this too rolls on, through inertia. Our civilisation today goes rolling on through inertia, and when we look at the effects of this in the world around us, we feel it all has something in common. To describe these dead things in a living way is not easy, but for everything nowadays—one might say—documentary proof is required. Nothing is held to be justified in the eyes of our modern civilisation unless documentary evidence for it can be produced. For every scientific fact, for every assertion, and even for every human being, there must be documentary evidence. Before he can enter any profession or calling, he must have a certificate. In scientific life everything has to be proved. Anything not proved does not count, cannot even be understood.

I could say a lot about this certification, this having to be proved. It appears sometimes in grotesque forms. I will tell you of a little event connected with this. When I was young, though not very young, I edited a periodical, and was involved in a lawsuit over a small matter. There was not much in it: I went myself, and won my case in the first court. The plaintiff was not satisfied, so he appealed. I went again, and the opposing counsel said to me: “We do not need you at all, only your solicitor, where is he?” I said I had not brought one, I thought it was my own affair. That was no good. I had to use my ingenuity to get the case adjourned; and I was told that next time my presence would be useless; I had to send a solicitor. For in an appeal case it was not the custom for someone to represent himself.

I went away very much amused. And I forgot the whole thing until the day before the case was to continue. I went into the town and thought: I cannot let myself be told again tomorrow that I am unnecessary. As I went along the street I saw a solicitor's brass plate and went in. I did not know him, or anything about him. He said: “Who recommended me to you?” I said: “Nobody.” I had thought somebody else would not do it any better, and took the first I saw. He said: “Write out on a piece of paper what I should say tomorrow.” I wrote it for him and stayed away, according to custom. A few days later he wrote that I had won the case.

I could tell you a hundred things like this out of my own life. It is everywhere regarded as irrelevant to have an actual human being present; the important thing is that accepted procedures should be followed. Young people feel this. They do not want documentary proof for everything, but something different. Instead of proofs, they would put experience. Older people do not understand this word, “experience.” It is not in their dictionaries and can appear quite horrible to them; to speak of spiritual experience is horrible for many people. This is what we find at the transition from a dark age to an age of light; it signifies a radical turning-point.

It is quite natural that this transition should present itself in two streams, so to speak. The anthroposophical movement and the youth movement have by destiny a certain connection. The anthroposophical movement unites people of every class, occupation and age, who felt at the turning-point from the 19th to the 20th century that man has to place himself into the whole cosmos in a quite different way. For him it is no longer simply a question of something being confirmed by evidence or proved—he must be able to experience it. Hence it appeared to me quite in accordance with Karma that the two movements were led together. And so a kind of youth movement developed within the anthroposophical movement. And finally, when the anthroposophical movement was refounded at Christmas at the Goetheanum, this soon led to the institution of a youth section, which was to take care of the concerns that arise in the feelings of young people in a most sincere and genuine way.

An immensely encouraging beginning was made by our anthroposophical youth movement in the first months of this year. There are reasons for a certain stagnation at present; they lie in the difficulties of the youth movement. These difficulties arise because it is so hard to give something form out of the existing chaos, in particular the present spiritual chaos. To give something form is much more difficult than ever before. The strangest things happen to one today. Those who know me will know that I am not at all inclined to boast. But when I heard Rector Bartsch speak yesterday in such a warm and friendly way, saying that when I come to the anthroposophical society here I am welcomed like a father, I had to say, yes, there is something in it. So I am addressed as a father—and fathers are old; they can no longer be quite young. In Dornach, when we began the youth section, I suggested that the young people should speak out clearly and frankly. A number of young people spoke well and honestly. Then I spoke. Afterwards, when it was all over, somebody who knows me well said, after he had listened to everything: “All the same, you are the youngest among the young people.” This can happen today; in one place one is addressed as an old father, in another as the youngest among the young. Ideas no longer have to be quite fixed. But if you climb up and down the steps of the ladder, sometimes as the little old father, sometimes as the youngest of all, you have a good opportunity to catch a glimpse of what is living in people's feelings.

I said that the youth section was stagnating. This will pass. It has happened, because it is, to begin with, extremely difficult for a young mind to think its way into something which it feels quite clearly. Our civilisation, in losing the spirit, has lost the human being! If I now speak more from the background of existence, I see that young people who have come down recently from the spiritual world into physical existence have come with demands on life quite different from the demands brought by those who came down earlier. Why is this so? You do not need to believe me. But for me this is knowledge, not merely belief. Before one comes down to physical earthly existence one passes through much in the spiritual world which is fuller of meaning and mightier as an experience than anything passed through on earth. Earthly life should not be undervalued. Without earthly life, freedom could never be developed. But the life between death and rebirth is on a grander scale. The souls who came down are the souls which are in you, my dear friends. These souls were able to behold an immensely significant spiritual movement taking its course behind physical existence in regions above the earth—the movement which I call within our anthroposophical society the Michael movement.

This is so. Whether the materialistic man of today' is prepared to believe it or not, it is so! The leading power for our present time, who could be named in a different way, but whom I call the Michael power, is trying to achieve, within the spiritual leadership of the earth and of mankind, a transformation of all soul-life upon the earth. Men who became so very clever during the 19th century have no inkling of the fact that the attitude of soul which developed during the 19th century as the most enlightened attitude has been given up by the spiritual world. An end to it has been ordained, and a Michael community of beings, who never walk upon earth, but lead humanity, seeks to bring about among men a new attitude of soul. The death of the old civilisation has come.

When the Threefold Commonwealth movement, which failed through the death of the old civilisation, was going on, I often said: “We have today no threefold membering in public life according to the spirit, according to law and so on, and according to economic life—but we have a threefold membering in terms of phrases, conventions and routines. Instead of spiritual life, there are phrases; and routine dominates economic life, instead of goodwill towards men, love for men, which should be ruling there.”

This condition of soul, in which people are stuck fast, should be replaced by another, which arises from man himself and is experienced in man himself. That is the endeavour of spiritual beings who have taken over the leadership of our age and can be recognised in the signs of the times. The souls which have descended to the earth in your bodies saw this Michael movement and came down under this impression. And here they grew up in the midst of a humanity which really excludes man, which makes man into a mask. The youth movement is thus a wonderful memory of experience before birth, of most significant impressions gathered during this pre-earthly life. And if someone has these indefinite unconscious memories of pre-earthly life, of the endeavour to achieve a transformation of man's mood of soul—he will find nothing of it here on earth. That is what is going on today in the feelings of young people.

The anthroposophical movement springs from the revelation of the Michael movement; and has the purpose of bringing the intentions of the Michael movement into the midst of human life. The anthroposophical movement seeks to look up from the earth to the Michael movement. Young people bring with them a memory of pre-earthly existence. So the youth movement and the anthroposophical movement are brought together by destiny. And everything that has happened through the interplay between these two movements appeared to me to come about in a quite inward way, not through earthly circumstances, but through spiritual circumstances, inasmuch as these are connected with man. Thus I regard this youth movement as something which can awaken unlimited hopes for the future of all that can be felt rightly as anthroposophical.

Of course we encounter things which are bound to arise from the fact that the anthroposophical movement and the youth movement are both at their beginnings. We have seen the Free Anthroposophical Society founded side by side with the Anthroposophical Society in Germany. This Free Anthroposophical Society had—again inevitably—a governing committee that was chosen or elected. I think this committee had seven members—somebody says there were nine—very well, nine; there were nine, but one after the other was politely discharged from office, until three were left. All very comprehensible. The Free Anthroposophical Society had the essential intention of understanding the experience of youth. Now a discussion on this subject developed. One after another the committee members had their capacity to experience youth in the right way disputed. Three remained, and of course they discussed with one another whether all of them had the experience of youth. Something quite remarkable arose, pointing to a link of destiny between the youth movement and the anthroposophical movement. It seems ridiculous, but is very serious. For when one investigates the great questions of destiny, one finds very significant things, and the greatness of destiny is often indicated in symptoms. When we had founded the Anthroposophical Society, we also had committee members who quarrelled terribly, and it was evident to me that eventually very few would remain, after they had politely dismissed the others. But to prevent it from ending there, the left side of a person would start quarrelling with the right side over which side really had the experience of youth. That sounds like irony, but is not. For it indicates that what can be called the experience of youth today lies deep within the soul, and the significant thing is that this experience cannot necessarily be expressed in clear words. In the age of cleverness so many clear words have been spoken! What matters is that we should reach experiences. And then this inability to find clear forms of expression should be recognised as unavoidable. The right to continue in a state of vagueness is in fact claimed. But something else is needed: a refusal to separate from one another because an impression of unclarity is given, and a willingness to come together and talk.

Above all I would like to express to you, my young friends who are sitting here today, the wish that all of you, whatever you may feel and think, may hold together with an iron will, truly hold together. This is what we need most of all, if we want to achieve something in approaching the great questions of today. We cannot always be asking whether someone else has a rather different opinion from one's own. It is really a question of finding one another, even in the greatest differences of feeling. This will perhaps be the finest achievement, that those who are young understand how to keep together in spite of differences in feeling. It is a fact that what young people miss most of all today is the finding of other human beings. Wherever they go, they find, not human beings, for the human beings have died, but masks, everywhere masks! This has had a natural consequence: a search by human beings for one another. And that is very moving; for all the various “scout” movements, the Wandervogel movements and so on, are all a search for the human being. Young people want to join with others; they are looking in others for the human being. This is quite comprehensible. Because the human being was no longer there spiritually, each one said to himself: “But I feel, all the same, that the human being must be there.” And they looked for the human being, looked for him in community. But we should not forget that this has something immensely tragic about it.

Many young people have experienced this tragedy. They joined together and believed they were finding the human being. But nothing of what they were seeking came to fill their community; and they became even lonelier than before. These two phases of the youth movement are evident: the phase of community, the phase of great loneliness. How many young people there are today who go in loneliness through the world, conscious that nowhere have they been understood.

Now the truth is that one cannot find the human being in another person unless one knows how to look for him in a spiritual way—for man is in fact a spiritual being, and if one approached a man only externally, he cannot be found, even if he is there. It is indeed lamentable today, how people pass each other by. Certainly, earlier times can be rightly criticised. Much was barbaric then. But there was something: a man could find the human being in another man. He cannot do this now. Grown men all pass each other by. No one knows the other. He cannot even live with the other, because no one listens to the other. Everyone shouts in the other's ear his own opinion, and says: “That is my opinion, that is my point of view ”. You have merely points of view, nothing more. For what is asserted from one point of view or another makes no difference. These things murmur among young people, perceived by the heart, not by the mind.

You can be sure it must be right to feel a connection of destiny between the youth movement and the anthroposophical movement. Young people did not come to Anthroposophy just because they wanted to try out this as well, after they had tried out many other things—they came to it from destiny. And this gives me the certainty that we shall be able to work together. We shall find our way to one another, and, however things turn out, they must above all develop in such a way that those human qualities in the widest sense which live among young people are taken into account. Otherwise, if real spirit does not spring forth from youth, something utterly different will come about. For youthful life is certainly there, and one will be able to feel it; but this condition of youth, if it is not filled with spirit, ceases early in the twenties. We cannot preserve youth physiologically. We have to grow old, but we must be able to carry something from youth into old age. We must understand the condition of youth in such a way that we can rightly grow old with it. Unless spirit touches the soul, the deepest soul, the years between twenty and thirty cannot be lived through without coming into grey misery of soul. And this is my greatest anxiety. How can we work together in such a way that our young people will be able to cross the abyss between the twenties and the thirties without losing their vital spirit, without falling into grey misery of soul? I have known human beings who in their mid-twenties fell into this grey misery of soul. For, to speak fundamentally, that which lives in the depths of young souls after the end of the Kali Yuga is a cry for the spirit.

Before I move on to the actual topic, please allow me to just note that in today's lecture all sorts of things have to be said for which even the scientific justification cannot be presented today, for the reason that in the last lecture here weeks ago, the dispute between anthroposophy and science was attempted in such a way that the anthroposophy I mean here neither shies away from this dispute nor wants to oppose the scientific methods of the present day. But still, since I assume that a large part of the audience who were present at the time have already heard the things, I may refrain from repeating them today.

Now, when we speak of the great mysteries that confront the human soul when it looks to the spiritual world or wants to feel something, the questions that arise cannot, in principle, relate to the fact that at any given moment a person might doubt that he is dealing with spiritual beings in his own life. Indeed, one could almost say that questions about the nature of the spiritual world arise precisely because the human being knows that, by engaging with the world, he is dealing with the activity of that which is spirit in him. But on the other hand, he cannot get to grips with the question: What is the nature of this spiritual that he himself is dealing with? Actually, all questions relating to the spiritual world must ultimately come down to this: What is the nature of the spiritual that we know well? It is precisely the fate of that which we know well that is at stake in these riddle-like questions of existence. Even those who seriously, not merely out of coquetry, deny the spirit, they only deny that what they regard as spirit has an independent significance in relation to material existence. So their denial refers to the essence of the spiritual, not to the spiritual itself.

But why, since man does possess a spirit, does he encounter difficulties in this area? That is the question that actually arises more or less unconsciously in the human soul. Special people experience these questions consciously, the majority unconsciously, but one cannot say that they experience them any less meaningfully for the soul's mood and disposition. They also experience that these questions take place in the depths of the soul's life and play their way up into the daily state of mind through all kinds of states of happiness or suffering, so that one can indeed say that a person is more or less suitable or unsuitable for himself and the world, depending on how he comes to terms with such fundamental questions of existence.

Now, one could cite much that leads a person to ask these questions. From the whole abundance of that which torments, fills with doubt and the like in the human soul, I want to emphasize something that can illustrate how such riddle-questions, as they are meant here, present themselves to the human being.

We see every day, when we pass from the waking state into sleep, we see that which we carry within us in the waking state as our surging, fulfilling spiritual life, we see it sink down into the sphere of unconsciousness. And we feel, consciously or unconsciously, we feel in this descent of our conscious spiritual life into the unconscious the powerlessness of that which we actually consciously carry within us as our daily, cognizing spiritual life from waking to sleeping. And even if we only feel it, this feeling becomes the soul mood for what can be experienced when that which is most valuable in life, our conscious mental life, descends into the unconscious state. And we then ask ourselves: Does this spiritual life, for the sake of which we actually want to be human, also have to somehow descend into that fate, without it being connected with an inherent, supporting, sustaining, as we say, eternal existence?

That is one side of the question, which is so meaningful and powerful. But this question also exists in contrast. We wake up, perhaps through the transition of the dream life, which we must, however, see as illusory, compared to what we call reality in ordinary life. We grasp, so to speak, corporeality with our soul; we pass over into that state in which we make use of our body in every moment that develops our healthy bodily life. But even here there is something that seems mysterious to us, for we see that which we actually address as spirit sinking down into the body. We make use of the organs as they appear to us, of our body. But how the spiritual works through our arms and legs, how it works through our senses, how it makes use of the body, is something that initially eludes our ordinary consciousness. And one can say: While one becomes aware of the powerlessness of the spiritual through the moment of falling asleep, one can become aware upon waking up of how that which we call spiritual sinks into a kind of unknown world. We do not know how that which we would like to address as spiritual plunges into our physical organism. Fainting on the one hand, and sinking into darkness on the other, are the two poles that arise as such deeply heart-wrenching riddles of man, but which man cannot avoid.

And how does humanity as a whole stand today, in that it perceives these questions as the real riddles of existence? One might say that two things arise for the spiritual world, to which man seeks a relationship for the reasons already mentioned, two things arise precisely for the man of the present day. One is filled with illusions about the spiritual world, the other is filled with pains and torments whose origin remains unfathomable. One is superstition, the other is doubt. Those who have not yet familiarized themselves with the great results of the modern scientific world view, those who have not yet been touched by the conscientious method used by one part of the world, fall into superstition to a greater or lesser extent. They take what comes to them of their own accord or overcomes them from the anthroposophical world view and knowledge, they take that and fill their minds with what can arise in the human interior without it being justified in a faithful, honest way towards themselves. They fill the world, so to speak, with all kinds of thoughts and emotional constructs, and in doing so they feel satisfied in a certain way. But the moment they want to cope with the world, what they have absorbed in this way through superstition shows itself everywhere, coming up against all possible corners of the world. The events and things that confront us from the outside world do not correspond to what we draw from within as illusions. One ends up as a person who is disoriented in this world and unfit for action, because the powers on which he relies fail after all; they are just powers that are born out of his will and desire. This is the situation that the one, less scientifically minded part of humanity encounters in relation to these questions.

The other part of humanity, which has in turn immersed itself in the conscientious, scientific methods of the present day, so that it is able to recognize what significance science has for the overall culture of the present day, has often trained its thinking to seek out connections in the external world of the senses. It has felt how far one can go, which ideals still need to be resolved, for example in the field of natural science. But he has also learned, or at least believes he has learned, that when he engages his thinking with what is presented to him externally through the senses, for which he can find a certain kind of law through thinking, which then satisfies him for the sensory world, then this thinking is no longer sufficient to rise to a spiritual level. The very strength of spirit in modern science leads one too much to despair of the strength of this thinking when it comes to penetrating beyond the sensory realm into the spiritual realm through one's own human research. And so it is that the one who is still sincerely touched by science comes into doubt.

But—dear attendees—just as the superstitious person must become disoriented because their illusions do not prove to be forces for action, the honest person, who doubts with their heart, can no longer cope with themselves. For that which arises out of doubt penetrates deeply into the human mind with such strength that it moves in those ways, which today are still little understood in science, which lead from the human mind, from joy and suffering, of joy and pain, into the health of our nerves, of our entire organic system, that it puts itself into what we have in our minds, and that we, also physically, gradually become weak through doubt. I would like to say: The mental consumption that we have to acquire through doubt continues in the human physical fitness. And so, when doubt gnaws at us, we also become weak in life and, above all, we become shy and recoil from everything that, after all, should turn out to be a necessary relationship with the spiritual world, according to our assumptions or even our healthy sense. This is why a large proportion of those who have experienced these doubts seek a refuge in an area where anthroposophy will certainly not seek them, because it starts from a healthy soul life and seeks to develop higher powers of cognition in the human being through the further development of a healthy soul life, through which he can see into the spiritual world. But those who are often seized by doubt today do not turn to their own healthy nature, which above all needs to be developed; they turn to that which must be regarded as more or less pathological, to visions, to that which often arises in the waking consciousness like dream images. And we can say: all these phenomena are actually ultimately based on a detuning of the human organism.

There is no medium in whom the human organism as a whole is not tuned down, so that precisely because the human organism is not functioning properly, the abnormal spiritual phenomena that are admired in mediums come to light. Even extremely learned people cannot see that there must be an enormous insecurity when one allows oneself to be guided by paths that lead to the pathological for the sake of knowledge. Furthermore, one can also say: All of this must always be based on the fact that something in the human organism is not functioning in the normal way, so that there is always something present in all these ways that can only come before humanity if the human organism itself deviates from the healthy path.

This proves, in principle, how today's human beings will grasp at anything to come to the necessary knowledge of the spiritual world. Anthroposophy, as I mean it here, has to do with a path into the spiritual world — this should be particularly clear from my last lecture — that, above all, starts from a healthy human soul life and body life. Please read up on it. I cannot repeat all of that today, what I have indicated as soul exercises that are to be carried out, suitable for modern man and for the whole of culture, that are to be carried out so that the higher faculties of cognition and will develop from the ordinary soul forces, just as the higher faculties develop from the unconscious forces in the child. Read up on it, you will find all of this in the first preparatory part of my writings, in the part that refers to the fact that everything that is present in the soul and body life of a person in the way of restlessness, rashness, unconsciousness, and so on, and so on, must first be subjected to careful self-discipline. This first part of my books is often said, even by opponents of anthroposophy, to be taken into account, because it gives more or less moral instructions to the simple person who knows nothing about anthroposophy.

Now, ladies and gentlemen, it cannot be denied that this is the case, but on the other hand, these efforts are aimed at developing powers of cognition in the healthy human soul, in the whole healthy human being, through which the spiritual world can become visible. And if, proceeding from these views and by means of such powers of knowledge, we look back into the course of human history, we find in this way the means of understanding what the modern soul requires in the sense of anthroposophy in relation to spiritual knowledge.

As I said, since people today often refuse to penetrate into the spiritual world on their own paths, they seek out among the paths already mentioned that which is there in the form of venerable traditions and religious creeds. They accept it, and even carefully select what they accept because it is there, because they were born into it, were raised in it. They accept it and then, to justify themselves a little to themselves, they say: Yes, these things must be based on faith, whereas real science is to be distinguished from faith, but it actually only refers to the external, the sensual. But if one looks not only with an external historical eye, but with the eye that is sharpened by higher, supersensible powers of knowledge — as described in my books and in my last lecture — if one investigates the historical in spiritual life, it presents itself differently than it is seen through today's science. Above all, we see where the world views that people are born into and educated in today actually come from.

Anyone who is able to research this area will find that everything we hold as traditional beliefs today, which has become convincing through its age, was acquired in older epochs of human development through the path of knowledge, not of faith, but through the path of knowledge as it was appropriate for older times. We live in the time that has educated itself to have concepts for what can be considered scientific. And we cannot help but take the view that we take into account what has been incorporated into human spiritual life through modern cultural development.

If we then look back at older spiritual cultures, we see that great and powerful things have emerged from them, but they have emerged through the path of human knowledge. Today, we only have the knowledge that is handed down to our will impulses. We accept them without looking for their sources. But these lie in older insights, and if we communicate with them, we will be able to gain clarity about what anthroposophy can do for today's, for modern man, through the relationship of the spiritual world.

Let us look, for example, at two examples of older knowledge, through the effect of which we can actually find the life into which we are born and educated today in terms of faith. I could pick out other examples from the abundance, but I would like to pick out two characteristic examples that have led people to the old knowledge. I would like to highlight a certain type of ancient, oriental, so-called yoga system, through which people in ancient times tried to strengthen their thought system in such a way that they could not only see the sensory world through the strengthened thought system, but that they could see the spiritual world through it. That is one side of the older insights. We can no longer go there, but by delving into them, one gains an understanding, so to speak, of what modern man needs in this area.

What did the yogi achieve when he did certain exercises that were supposed to lead him to a strengthened thinking? He shared with humanity in general that the inner life was much more soul-filled than our present life. One must only understand what actually lived in the souls of the older human race. They could not help it, but, by observing the outer nature, they added to what they heard in a tone, in their contemplation, what was born in their soul as a spiritual being, and what transformed the whole of nature for them into something that manifested itself spiritually and soulfully everywhere.

The one who lived as the yogi scholar over there in distant Asia was now also in the same situation as general humanity. He was in the same condition as general humanity that I have just described. The man of that time longed to get out if he wanted to gain knowledge, and he longed to get out by wanting to strengthen his thinking.

Now there is a certain method that is regarded by many who understand it as something particularly pernicious, but it goes back to what was quite appropriate for older times, and I would like to describe it in the oldest form in order to make it quite understandable.

The original scholar of yoga, in his quest for knowledge, developed exercises related to human breathing. He performed a breathing process through certain, more or less shorter or longer periods of time, which did not proceed in the same way as the ordinary one. For example, he chose different times for inhaling, holding his breath and exhaling. He thus entered into a completely different kind of breathing rhythm, lived in it and felt so transformed in his thinking powers that he now perceived thinking as a much stronger, much more powerful force than he had felt in everyday life. Through this, he looked into that other world into which he had longed to look. And if we ask ourselves what all this is based on, We can answer: Yes, in ordinary life the breathing process actually takes place in such a way that we do not pay attention to it, that it floats in the unconscious. At most, we become aware of it. Otherwise, it can only enter the human soul life in a semi-conscious or quarter-conscious state. But what lives as unconsciousness for the ordinary consciousness was raised into consciousness by the ancient yoga scholar in such a way that it was modified. He became aware of breathing.

A further consequence of this is that when we draw in our breath, it and its effect permeate our entire organism. What the breathing rhythm is, is thoroughly continued in the brain; what the brain performs is permeated by the breathing process. In our brain activity, we are always dealing with something that is permeated by the inner breathing process, we just do not notice it. Let us learn to look at the musical experience in a psychologically healthy way! I would like to say that the truth would become obvious to us that we are dealing with a thought process that is related to a continuous flow through the organs. The yogi brought to consciousness that which takes place inwardly, but which is a completely unconscious state. Through the different breathing that he practiced, thinking became something completely different for him.

He did not do it in his head, he did not do the thinking according to logical rules alone, but in such a way that it took on a musical character. But this also allows thinking to grasp something completely different than it can grasp with mere logical forms. The old Indian yoga teacher felt through this, his way, how he could enter into another world, which he sought, through such an energization of his bodily organism and thus of the soul-spiritual. But now, what is attained in this way leads one so much back to one's own being, it leads one away from the external, robust world that we as modern people are confronted with, that we as modern people not only must not go this way, but cannot go it either. It leads people so far back into themselves that they must come back to a spiritual hermitage. Such a method of knowledge comes from people who, after all, have separated themselves from the rest of human life. That was one way. We must not imitate them, because such hermits do not fit into our modern culture. We can only trust people who are able to fully immerse themselves in the life that is the task for all of humanity. This must be taken into account for the highest realms of knowledge, otherwise something will be lost that belongs to older times.

Now, that is one thing – esteemed attendees – that I would like to present to you. The other is what has been developed for those forms that are understood by the name of asceticism. Asceticism goes back to forms that were appropriate in the past. It is based on the fact that certain functions that would otherwise occur are now artificially toned down, so that the organism is not as energetically active as it would otherwise have to be when a person is involved in ordinary life. But in this way, the person has very specific experiences, and by getting to know these, what he recognizes on the other hand is complemented. And this asceticism, which is a lowering of the life of the body, is based on something that has been observed since ancient times, that it is a fact for the world that surrounds us here between birth and death. For this world, our organism is absolutely the means by which we can gain knowledge and energy in and for this world. We just have to realize that it is based on the fact that we have the other senses, we experience ourselves together with the rest of the world.

But this organism is, because it is active in the energetic sense for this physical-sensual world, therefore it is an obstacle to the knowledge of the spirit. If one subjects it to ascesis, then it does not function in such a way that we are fully immersed in the sensual world, then it becomes less and less an obstacle to penetrating into the spiritual world. That is why in the past people sought to place themselves in the spiritual background of the world by lowering the degrees of the obstacle. And, my dear audience, that too is not a path that we can follow today. Because by tuning down his organism in this way, man also makes himself unsuitable for the kind of life that is demanded of us today. But anyone who is familiar with the historical development of human spiritual life knows that today's human being, who is placed in this life with its demands of the outside world, has as a traditional creed that which was once found on these paths. Today, through faith, we take in much of what has been achieved in this way, as I have described. We are not aware that it has been achieved in this way; we do not know that it is based on an ancient form of knowledge, and we construct the concept of faith for that which is venerable today.

Anthroposophy now stands before modern spiritual life in such a way that it follows paths that are appropriate for today's people, that are thoroughly compatible with what we otherwise seek as science. While the yoga scholar strengthened his thought process by taking a detour through the breathing process, you will find in my writings “How to Know Higher Worlds” and “Occult Science” instructions that do not aim to do this. Instead, you will find descriptions of exercises that relate only to the life of the soul, that remain purely in the soul, just as we remain in the soul when we are working on a mathematical task. Through these exercises, thinking is now directly strengthened and one then notices, when one treats thinking more and more through that concentration, those other exercises, of which you can read in the books, when one treats thinking more and more through that concentration, those other exercises, of which you can read in the books, when one treats thinking more and more through that concentration, those other exercises, of which you can read in the books, when one treats thinking more and more through that concentration, those other exercises, of which you can read in the books, when one treats thinking more and more through that concentration, those other exercises, of which you can read in the books, when one treats thinking more and more through that concentration, those other exercises, of which you can read in the books, when one treats thinking more and more through that concentration, those other exercises, of which you can read in the books, when one treats thinking more and more through that concentration, those other exercises, of which you can read in the books, when one treats thinking more and more through that concentration, those Well, in order to understand what I have to say about it, one must already ascend to these intimacies of the soul life.

I would like to start from something that is often the subject of our world view today. One seeks — Goethe did it on his way, modern people try it on their own paths, I myself tried it in my older writings — one seeks today to compare what, for example, the outer forms of living beings are. Let us say that today the modern human being seeks to understand the form of a higher animal, he gains an insight into the form of the higher animal. As a result, he has the higher animal in front of him as long as he is doing his research. Then he carries an inner view of this higher animal with him. He keeps in his soul a kind of mental counter-image of what he has experienced out there. But then the modern human being must look, for example, at the human form. He now also gains an insight into this human form, let us assume that he has achieved the same thing as he did with regard to the form of a higher animal. He then compares these two and draws up a kind of developmental theory. He does all this with the concepts into which we are simply born today, into which we are educated through our ordinary mental life. But now we ask ourselves about something very important, which, however, is little felt by modern people today. Let us imagine a modern person with a very precise inner concept of a higher mammal based on their current scientific education. Now ask: If you have this concept, can you grasp the life force from this thought through an inner, living transformation of the thought? Can you get from what nature presents to you to the transition into the living human form? Do your thoughts undergo the same metamorphosis as nature outside, from the idea of the animal to the idea of the human being?

Now, my dear audience, get an overview of the juxtaposed concepts and thoughts about animals and humans, and then compare these thoughts. You will come to something admirable, but it is not living thinking, not a living world of thoughts. Man stands there with his world of thoughts, which is his inner counter-image of what lives outside; but he turns to the higher animal form with abstract, lifeless thoughts.

But when the exercises I have indicated are carried out, these exercises are carried out, then something is indeed accomplished for the human soul life that can already be compared to when a corpse becomes a living being through some process. We actually come to say to ourselves: the animal, for example, has the salient feature that the direction of its head is horizontal; the human being differs in that it transitions from the horizontal to the vertical direction, and so on.

We look at the magnetic needle and align it with the different directions in space. Everywhere it behaves differently than when we place it in an axis that goes from the magnetic north pole to the south pole. We say to ourselves: This is a special direction that has something to do with the inner nature of the forces that live in the magnetic needle. The human being acquires such a view for an outer world, but he then also acquires it for the higher worlds. He acquires knowledge that consists in knowing that the animal has its main direction horizontally, while the human being has a different direction in the whole cosmic space, with its direction vertical. When he has it vertically, that the spinal cord is thereby in the vertical direction, one inwardly becomes acquainted with the living concept of how the outer world takes on a living concept through and through. Space ceases to be merely indeterminate, extending into the void; space is inwardly filled with directions and essences of force. And once one has recognized the animal form within oneself, one develops the possibility within oneself. One learns to experience how the mere thought of the animal form is transformed into the human form; one learns to recognize an inwardly moving thought life. But one learns to recognize it as a human being who does not come to a hermitage, as the old yoga scholar does, but who, precisely through this, can really enter into the present life, because we come to the living concepts that bring people more than anything else to connect with the innermost essences of the outer world.

But now, my dear audience, you may object: yes, there have always been philosophers who have come to certain living concepts, but who nevertheless give the impression of standing in something unfounded. One cannot have confidence that what takes place in the living thought shows itself in the same way out there in the real world.

Yes, if things remain as they were with Schelling or Oken, if they remain so, then one is not protected from simply grasping something fantastic in an unreal way. Rather, the thought can give a kind of inner voluptuousness, which one brings forth in a living way, like the flower structure of a plant grows out of the leaf structure. But in this path of knowledge, reality is attained through something else. The person who brings thinking to life in the right way begins to experience something from which, however, modern man often shrinks back. And because he shrinks back from this, he also shrinks back from the whole of anthroposophy, which seeks the real spiritual world through these paths of knowledge. The moment one enters into these particular areas of life through these exercises, it becomes clear that each such living concept does not work in the soul in the same way as the dead concept that we otherwise have, but rather each of the living concepts that we gradually acquire initially affects us in such a way that it pains us, causing us mental suffering that affects us no less than any physical ailment. This is where we have to go through and where the gates of the spiritual world should open, that every living concept, which in turn leads him a little deeper into the spiritual world, that every such living thought causes suffering and pain in the soul.

Why is that? For the reason, dear listeners, that we must not only develop a living thinking, but we must also experience reality in this living thinking. But we can only experience reality when an effect is exerted on ourselves.

Let us consider our senses, the eye. What goes on in the eye is, among other things, also purely chemical decomposition processes. If these processes were not so quiet, we would feel pain there as well, but for those of us who have already reached a certain stage of development, this is overcome. What once had to be felt in other phases of human development is now brought about by painless perception.

We have to experience this state of pain so that it appears to us as permeated by the soul and spirit itself, because the entire human being must become a comprehensive sense organ. One cannot see into the spiritual world until the human organism has become a spiritual and soul eye. We must go through that state of suffering, which transforms our whole human organism into a sense organ for the spiritual world. Our whole organism, by overcoming this suffering, becomes a sense organ for the spiritual world. Only then, when one experiences this, does one know that one is standing in a real spiritual world. Then you will say to yourself: I am very grateful to my fate for my joys, but what I have acquired as knowledge, I owe to what I have lived through painfully, and that is what actually led me first to the special essence of what knowledge is. That is what pushed me to pursue this essence further. Without going through the tragedy of life, but also overcoming it, the doors to the spiritual world do not open in reality.

But when they do open, then something completely different arises from the living thinking, then what really arises is that we look – just as we look with our eyes and ears at colors and sounds – we look at the concrete spiritual world to which we ourselves belong with the eternal part of our human life, that we are rooted in the spiritual world around us. And once we have managed to ascend from the individual animal form as described, we find that a further step arises: we now have a human being before us, and we can examine him differently than in the clinic or in the dissecting room, when the life has left him. We can fathom the essence of the human being differently. Just as one surrenders to the thought of the animal form that has now been brought to life, the inner form of growth of the animal, so one also sees in the person standing before one, not just the physical form; now, from a purely spiritual perspective, one can see something that can truly be regarded as a spiritual-soul aura of the person. And when one looks into this spiritual-soul aura – this seeing is a result of the living of thought – then one sees what the person standing before one is as a spiritual-soul being before the person was, before he descended from the spiritual-soul; one sees the person in relation to what lives in him from his pre-earthly existence. The living thought helps us to do this when we follow it in the physical world.

In this way, anthroposophy seeks to arrive at a true understanding of the spiritual-soul entity in the life that precedes this earthly life. And by looking at the human being in his essence, which can also exist without him already having a body, one then also gets to know more precisely what the essence of the spiritual-soul is; one sees in this spiritual vision how a completely different world stands before our spiritual vision during the time that preceded our birth.

Here on earth, as human beings, we cannot see into ourselves. What anatomy provides us with is an exterior. When, for example, a finger is moved only by the impulse of the will, what does the human being know about what is going on in his organism to make the finger move.

Modern anthroposophy recognizes the same scientific foundations as the other exact science in its field. And if we had fathomed all the laws of the starry heavens to their end, everything that shows clouds and sunbeams their way, we would have fathomed everything that is otherwise around us in earthly life, in here in man, who has been called the microcosm, there would still be a richer number of riddles for world views than there are out there in space. What is outside in space, man surveys in his life between birth and death. More wonderful than everything that makes up solar systems in the world is that which can be found in the microcosm.

In the world from which we descended before we united with our physical body, at that time when we lived as spiritual-soul entities in the spiritual-soul world itself, we looked at what we carry within us as human beings. Every attention, every thought is directed towards what the human being can experience in the time just before he descends: How do I connect with that which is connected to me in the line of inheritance? The child experiences the transformation of its brain, how this takes place in accordance with inner laws. We experience the incarnation before we descend to this incarnation. That is the one side that we achieve as our living thinking.

The other side is that we are now learning to look at what the human being does. We see how a person encounters another person in a particular year of life, we see how this encounter gives rise to something extraordinarily meaningful, which then gives their own existence in this physical life on earth a completely different direction. We see this and say to ourselves: this is a matter of chance.

But the one who is able to look in the right way, sees how a person, even before he enters this earthly life, already has certain likes and dislikes and how these consist of rejecting the one and accepting the other. If one denies this, then it is the same as the world of colors is for someone who is born blind and has an operation; he could also deny the colored world. So it appears as something fantastic when the one whose spiritual eye has been opened looks, as from childhood, the antipathy and sympathy pave the way for wisdom or also that which initially appears in life as un-wisdom. One only comes to know through living, suffering-overcoming thinking, this activity of man, interspersed with sympathy and antipathy, how brief the result of antipathy and sympathy itself is. Then one looks at fate and how it was earned in earlier earthly lives. One learns to look into repeated earthly lives.

Here the connecting element of humanity can be found in a spiritual and soulful way. It unites real, deep religious feeling, it unites that which seeks only the education of that which is present in our minds, it unites with that which is the demand of our deepest heart life. By engaging with this spiritual knowledge, the human being gains the possibility of also having knowledge of how to find those with whom he has formed a community here in the spiritual life.

Thus I have again shown a step of that — my dear audience — which leads out of the sensual-physical into the spiritual world through anthroposophy.

What is gained in this way are purely spiritual-soul processes that the ancient Indian yoga teacher found through his breathing process. We do not kill the human physical organism, but we approach the soul life, we let the soul life undergo an inner suffering, which at the same time, however, places the human being externally as an agent, a volition, in today's world and does not destine him to be a hermit. This is what needs to be reappropriated in modern culture: to openly confront the person who presents his research to humanity in this way, to confront him by agreeing with him.

He can do nothing but show again and again, by describing the methods and the results, how what he does is only a continuation of what man can find justified in ordinary life. And if it were said that this concerns only those who already look into the spiritual world, then it must be answered: It is not the case that man, by virtue of his organization, is not capable of error and doubt, but he is predisposed to truth. Therefore, anyone who is not a painter can stand in front of a picture that is painted in truth and beauty and feel it that way.

With this healthy human sense, a person can stand before what the anthroposophical spiritual researcher has to say and recognize the truth for themselves, even if they are not yet a researcher themselves. Those who are not can judge the truth through the healthy powers of humanity. But what Anthroposophy strives to accomplish, it believes, is not just a goal of individual hermits, but what modern man really needs.

What do we have in today's intellectual life? The ancient man had an inner soul life that he even carried into the outer worlds. We can see into the external worlds, but we have lost this inner spiritual life. We have abstract concepts, which are excellent for doing everything that does not require living inner powers of knowledge. But this admonishes us to emphasize again and again: with your thoughts, which are so magnificent,

you have nothing but something dead at bottom; you have thought-ideas from the mind, and although we certainly do not want to conjure up the old days in which spiritual knowledge was sought in such ways, in such old days a living spiritual view was found in a way that was appropriate at the time, the people of that time had achieved an inner soul life, something that realized the living spirit in the inner soul life.

If we turn again to that living thinking as anthroposophy understands it, then knowledge will not only provide us with vivid concepts, but knowledge will provide us with the living spirit that walks among us. In this way we will also experience physical plants and animals, and we will connect our own human feelings with these spiritual beings, the living spiritual world itself, which in turn is to be introduced into physical, sensory existence through that which is now a living knowledge in contrast to dead knowledge.

We must first make it quite clear to ourselves: we want knowledge that does not merely call our world in with thoughts, but that calls in the spirit itself. It is effective wherever the human being works out of the spirit. And particularly today, when social life is in such a terrible state, one feels that one needs something that must be present in social life as a spiritual element. One sees in particular in social life that it cannot continue without the spirit being involved. In short, anthroposophy would like to find understanding among those people who, so to speak, feel the pulse of contemporary culture. Anthroposophy wants us to enter the present day with the living spirit, instead of with mere thoughts and ideas of the spirit, because we have to realize that only with this living spirit will we be able to solve the tasks that are set for all of humanity. Only by solving them in a living way can we grow into a culture in the future that will sustain people at their spiritual and physical peak.

Man's striving and searching for the spirit is ancient, as old as the thinking, feeling and sensing of humanity itself. But at the most diverse times in human development, people had to give themselves the most diverse forms of answers to the great riddle questions of existence, which are also precisely the riddle questions about the spirit. In our time, what is called spiritual science or, as it has become accustomed to being called, theosophy, wants to give an answer to these great riddles of existence, and it wants to give an answer that corresponds to the feelings and needs of present-day humanity.

Contemporary humanity wants to know, wants to include in its understanding and knowledge of feelings that which is connected with the higher forms of existence. From the outset, it must be assumed that suspicions and belief in relation to the spirit or, as one can also say, in relation to the supersensible world, will lose nothing when the clarity of knowledge is poured out over what man has to say in relation to these questions.

The fact that behind everything sensual, behind everything physical, there is a supersensible, a superphysical, is basically only denied by a small number of people today. But when we approach these questions, then not only either the admission or the rejection of the spiritual, of the supersensible, mingles in what fills the human heart, but the most diverse feelings mingle in everything that comes into consideration comes into consideration, the most varied feelings mingle, not only in the answers, but already in the questions the most varied feelings mingle: above all, doubt and timidity mingle with what comes into consideration.

There are many people who say: Of course, we have to assume that behind the world that appears to our eyes, that we can perceive with our senses at all, that behind this world there is another one that makes the meaning of this sensual world understandable to us. But we humans cannot penetrate this supersensible world through our own research, through our own science. In recent times, spiritual science or theosophy has emerged as a message to man that shows not only that there is a supersensible world behind the sensory world, but also that man is capable of penetrating into this supersensible world through his own research. In doing so, we have drawn the attention of those present to the question that we shall deal with today: Where and how can we find the spirit at all?

Those who, from the outset, dogmatically doubt the possibility of human knowledge rising up into the spiritual world cannot, in principle, even raise this question properly. Theosophy or spiritual science does not want to bring anything completely new to humanity. If it were to claim to do so, it would be giving a poor account of itself, for who would want to believe that truth and wisdom have been waiting for our present time to be recognized and studied? Therefore, spiritual science or theosophy also shows that throughout all periods of human spiritual development, in the most diverse forms, the one, eternal truth and wisdom has been striven for by people and possessed to a certain degree, that only the perceptions and feelings change in the different ages – and therefore the old truth must approach humanity in ever new forms.

And so, without much preparation, let us approach the question of where and how to find the spirit in this spiritual or theosophical sense. We only need to point out that the search for the spirit depends on man finding the right tool to search for this spirit. You know, my dear audience, that in what is called external science, what is called the science of nature, there are tools, instruments, through which the external riddles of existence are gradually revealed to man. You know how man peers into the life of the smallest creatures through what is called a microscope; you know what wonders of space have been revealed to man by those instruments we call telescopes. These external instruments have indeed brought about something like external wonders in human knowledge for a long time. And you can also appreciate it when you think about the things that man is dependent on to grasp and comprehend the external mysteries of nature through such tools. In terms of the spirit, there are no such external tools; there is only one tool, the one that Goethe refers to in the well-known “Faust” poem with the words:

Mysterious in the bright day
Nature cannot be robbed of her veil,
And what she may not reveal to your mind,
You cannot force from her with levers and screws.

And Goethe points out in this sentence that all those tools and instruments that are composed of external, sensual things – however useful they may be for revealing the outer secrets of the world – cannot reveal the primal secret of existence, they cannot reveal the questions and riddles about the spiritual. But there is an instrument, only this instrument must be prepared. What is this instrument?

This instrument, through which man can penetrate into the spiritual world, is none other than man himself, not as man is in the average life, but as he can make himself when he applies the methods and means of secret science to himself. In this, esoteric science assumes that the magic word that moves so many minds and souls in relation to the outer world today is not taken entirely seriously and honestly. Today, there is much talk of evolution. It is said that the highest of sentient beings, the human being, has gradually developed from imperfect states to its present height. Through the study of natural science, attempts are being made to look back into the distant primeval times of humanity. It is said that in these distant primeval times, man was an imperfect being and gradually developed.

Theosophy or spiritual science in the broadest and therefore most honest sense of the word sees in man not only the powers and abilities that are in this person's normal life today, but it sees in him dormant abilities and powers that can be developed, that can be drawn out of the soul. And so it starts from the premise that this soul of man does not have to remain as it is, but that it can be shaped, and that in this way the abilities and powers that initially lie dormant in the human soul in a normal way can be called out of this soul, and then, when they are called forth, they enable the person to see something completely different in his environment, to perceive something completely different than he can recognize with his sensory eyes, with his sensory organs of perception. And so spiritual science speaks of a possible awakening of the human soul, of an awakening of the forces and abilities slumbering within it, by man applying such means to himself as we will have to cite later. Through this he comes to make such an instrument for the perception of the spiritual world out of himself.

What is an awakening? We can best imagine what an awakening, a development of the abilities lying dormant in the soul, is by first placing an image before our soul. Imagine, ladies and gentlemen, this hall by seeing the colors of the walls, the lights, by perceiving the other objects, these roses here and everything that is around you, what is perceptible, the sound that is recognizable to the ears. We bring a man born blind into this hall. The colors, the perceptions of light, which are evident to you, are hidden from this man born blind. Let us assume that we have the good fortune to operate on this man born blind here in this hall. Gradually, a whole new world would reveal itself to him around him. What he might have been able to deny before is now there for him.

Perhaps, if he had been a doubter, an unbeliever, he could have said before: You tell me about colors, you tell me about lights. There is only darkness around me. I do not believe in the fantastic stuff of light and colors you tell me about. The moment the organs are opened, the world he previously thought was a fantasy is there. It is there in the same space where there was darkness for him before.

Something similar happens to a person when they make themselves an instrument to perceive a higher world. If they apply the methods that will be mentioned below to themselves, then it is not sensory or physical organs of perception that are opened to them, but spiritual and soul ones. And that which was always around them before, which they just could not perceive, becomes perceptible to them. What Goethe called the spiritual eyes and spiritual ears develops from the soul, and a new world opens up before him [the human being]. The great moment of awakening occurs for him, that moment which is described to us in the deeper wisdom of all peoples and all different eras of the various peoples as the one through which the human being could become a messenger from another world.

There have always been people whose soul powers were awakened. In different periods they were called initiates. They were the ones who could tell what is fact in the other worlds, in the supersensible worlds, to the one who was perhaps not exactly in that place. Initiates, awakened ones have existed at all times. They were the seekers, the researchers of the spirit.

Now, one could say, and this objection will always be raised, one could say: Yes, what use is it to other people if there are a few awakened ones who can tell of higher worlds, who bring the message of the supersensible, if not all people can see into these worlds? Now, when today within the theosophical school of thought it is said that this or that is the case in the spiritual worlds, then many a person says: What use is it to me if others can see into the spiritual world but I cannot? I do not concern myself with these spiritual worlds at all, since I would only have to believe what others tell me.

This is not a valid objection. This objection would only apply, my esteemed audience, if supersensible powers of the human soul were just as necessary for understanding and insight as they are for research into the higher worlds. To penetrate into the higher world as a researcher, it is necessary that the person slowly and gradually, with patience and energy and perseverance, makes himself an instrument to look into the other world with spiritual eyes, to listen with spiritual ears. But then, when the one who has looked into the other world comes and tells the secrets of the higher worlds, then everyone is capable, with ordinary human logic, with common sense, if he is only unbiased enough, without being led astray by all kinds of prejudices, of realizing that what is said about the higher world is true. This can be recognized and understood. However, it can only be researched through the development of the human being himself into an instrument of spiritual research. For man, my honored audience, is not designed for error and doubt, but for truth. And when the initiates tell us about what is going on in the higher worlds, and the human being listens and just gives himself to his unbiased soul, then he senses, long before he can see into the spiritual world himself, that what is communicated about these worlds is true.

How can a person now reshape his inner being, his soul, so that these higher worlds become an experience for him, open to observation and direct exploration? If we want to answer this question, we have to delve a little deeper. After all, it is no less a question than this: how does a person develop the ability to see the spiritual world, how does he acquire the abilities that are also called clairvoyant? Let us start with what is an experience for the normal person: the external world of the eyes and the other external organs of perception. You know that a person perceives an object of the ordinary sensory world by directing his sensory organs towards the object, and once he has perceived it, he can retain an idea, an image of this object in his soul.

You are looking at this bouquet of roses. By fixing your eyes on this bouquet, it is a perception for you. You experience its existence, you are with it. You now turn around, and the image of this bouquet of roses remains with you as a mental image. It may be pale compared to the direct perception, but the image remains with you and you may carry this image for a long time until it disappears, so to speak, from your memory. But this is how a person relates to their experiences of the external world in general. We can say: in relation to the external sense world, a person experiences things in such a way that they actually encounter the objects first, and then the image of these external objects forms in their soul.

But precisely the opposite must occur, my dear audience, in relation to the supersensible world and everything that is connected with the great goals of supersensible development, as well as with the dangers that we will point out. All of this ultimately comes down to the fact that man must start by developing a certain kind of inner life, by first bringing about certain changes in his soul, certain experiences that he would otherwise not have in everyday life, in order to see the supersensible world. Then the great moment can come for him when – just as the outer, sensory light comes to the blind-born who have undergone an operation – the spiritual, supersensible world begins to make an impression on him.

The soul is not transformed into such an instrument of higher spiritual experience in an outward tumultuous way, not through outward events, but quietly within itself, in the course of an intimate inner life; and many a person who in life in this or that profession among people, of whom those around him knew nothing but that he had this or that position in life, has led or is leading a second life within himself. This second life consists in the fact that he has transformed his soul into such a characterized instrument of higher perception. When a person has gradually come so far, then he must develop a certain level of knowledge within himself, which external science, external experience, does not know at all. Spiritual science speaks of the fact that all external knowledge is knowledge of objects. It is precisely the kind of knowledge that arises when a person encounters the objects of the world and connects the ideas to them.

The next higher knowledge is called imaginative knowledge in spiritual science, and there is nothing fantastical, as we shall see in a moment, associated with this imaginative knowledge, not even anything that could even approximately be described by the mere word imagination. However, it must be clear that the path is the opposite of that of external experience, of external perception.

There are two means that must be applied intimately to the soul in order to advance it inwardly. These two means consist in man not abandoning himself to the mere outer life, but taking this soul life into his own hands through the inner powers of the soul, and initially directing this soul life through the inner powers of the will.

To fully understand what this is about, let us consider the following: We try to imagine how our soul life would be different if one or other of us had been born not in the year of the nineteenth century and not in the city of Europe, but a hundred years earlier and in a completely different city. We imagine how different objects around the person would affect him, how different ideas, sensations and feelings would then fill his soul. Think for a moment about how much of what fills your soul from morning till evening can be traced back to external impressions of place and time, and then imagine for a moment all the things in your soul that are not somehow connected to some external object in your environment, to some external event of your time. Ask yourself how much remains in the soul of a person, in the soul of many people, if they disregard what affects them in their immediate environment. Everything that affects the soul from the outside, everything that affects us because we were born and develop in a certain time and in a certain place, can contribute nothing, absolutely nothing, to the inner unfolding, to the inner awakening of the soul.

Completely different conceptions must enter into the life of the soul, conceptions that are independent of external impressions; and the most effective conceptions are initially those which are called imaginative or perhaps pictorial-symbolic. Such conceptions were always those which the teachers of supersensible abilities gave to their pupils, and by living in these conceptions, the pupils developed their souls upwards into the higher worlds.

We do not wish to speak in generalities, but to make ourselves understood by means of an example. Let us place before our minds, here and now, a symbol, a picture, which the pupils, under the influence of their spiritual science teachers, have long used to develop their souls higher. This is a picture, of which there are countless numbers, but we wish to make clear, by means of this one picture, how the soul is affected. The picture is simple to describe, and yet it has a magical effect on the soul.

Imagine a black cross. This black cross is adorned at the top, where the beams cross, with roses, with red roses. This is called the Rosicrucian symbol. When the disciple, as it were, becomes blind and deaf to the external environment, when he can, for a while, however short, refrain from all that can make an impression on his eyes, on his ears and on the other senses , when he is completely absorbed in himself and also erases the memory of everyday experiences and now fills himself completely with the one pictorial representation of the Rosicrucian – what happens to the soul?

Let us first answer this question. To do so, we must first understand something that can help us to understand the profound symbol of the Rosicrucian. However, what I am about to say is not what is important for the inner development to clarify this symbol or image, but rather the inner deepening and immersion of the soul. Nevertheless, we must explain the symbol to ourselves.

I will try to present this Rosicrucian symbol to you in the form of a dialogue, as the teacher would have spoken to his student in the field of spiritual science. This conversation, as I relate it, did not take place in the form in which I relate it, because what is implied in it always took place over long periods of time. Nevertheless, by retelling it in this way, we can get a sense of what happened.

Imagine that the teacher says to the student: Take a look at a plant, a plant that takes root in the ground, grows out of the ground, out of the root, with green leaves. And now compare the human being with this plant. Look at the human being in his present form, pervaded by red blood. Look at the plant and see how its life organs, its leaves, are permeated with the green sap, chlorophyll. Compare the two. You find the plant insensitive, immobile; you find the human being mobile, sensitive. You find that the human being has an inner life filled with pleasure and pain, joy and sorrow. You say that the human being stands at a higher level of existence than the plant. How did the human being come to a higher level of existence, how was he able to develop within himself that which could be called self-awareness, his ego? The plant has not developed such self-awareness, such an ego, as it stands before us.

The human being was only able to develop his higher consciousness to the point of self-awareness by accepting something else. In this higher development, the human being accepted the passions, the drives, the instincts, the desires. The plant does not have these. Although the plant does not have an inner life of thoughts and feelings, it stands in a certain respect higher than man in its kind; chaste and pure, without sensual urges and desires, without instincts and passions. And by imagining how the green plant sap flows through it, we say: this green sap is for us at the same time the symbol of the pure, chaste nature of plants. And as the pure, chaste nature of plants develops upward to man, so in man a self-awareness, an inner life, is developed. But this pure chastity is transformed at the same time into the life of desire. Man has partly risen higher, partly sunk lower.

Now the teacher continues to the student: But do not just look at the person as he stands before you in the present; look at a distant, very distant human future, at a human goal! Man has the goal of striving higher and higher, step by step, and overcoming what he had to accept in his development to date: to purify and cleanse the instincts, desires and passions, so that one day, while maintaining his consciousness, his self-aware nature, he is pure and chaste within himself, like the plant being at his level, in his way. What the human being is to achieve again in the future is overcoming, purifying what he had to accept, so to speak, shedding, taking away from himself that through which he has become lower than the chaste plant being, and only in this way can he revive in himself a higher nature, a higher human being, which today slumbers in him. Once again we can refer to Goethe when we want to draw attention to the deepest meaning of this development of humanity. We can say, and we fully capture the meaning of what the spiritual teacher said to his pupil with these words of Goethe's. We can draw attention to the words in Goethe's West-Eastern Divan:

And as long as you do not have this,
this dying and becoming!
If you are only a gloomy guest
on the dark earth.

“Stirb und Werde”: What does that mean? Stirb und Werde is a deeply symbolic word. It expresses approximately that which has now been said in the symbolum, it expresses that man wants to let die that which he has taken on in order to reach a higher level, to bring it to a higher flowering, his lower nature, and a higher nature is to be driven out as a flowering of the supersensible.

If we now look at the plant, it becomes a symbol for us in a certain form, a clear symbol of this human development. We see how the rose plant develops into its red blossom. The green sap of the plant changes before our eyes, so to speak, as it shoots into the blossom, into the red sap of the blossom. If we now imagine, symbolically, that we are always in the conversation between the teacher and the disciple, we think of the human being in terms of the passions and drives that are bound to his red blood, so purified and cleansed that this red blood flows through the veins in chastity and purity, like the red sap through the rose petal. Then we have in the rose itself the symbol of the higher human nature.

This is expressed in the rose cross, the “die and become” of the lower man, the shedding and casting off of what man has taken on in the black cross. The “becoming” at a higher level of development of the innermost spiritual nature of man is also reflected in the pure, chaste plant-juice in the roses that adorn the Rosicrucian cross. Thus we have explained this picture intellectually from one side. Much more could be said about it.

Now someone could, of course, say – and it would be a very easy objection to raise – that everything that has been said about the Rose Cross does not correspond to scientific conceptions. Certainly, my dear audience, it does not correspond to external scientific conceptions, but the Rose Cross is not there to express some outer fact in accordance with truth. What matters is not such a representation of the outer world, but that the person who, precisely because the Rosicrucian cross corresponds to no outer reality, allows this cross to enter his soul, becomes completely absorbed in this Rosicrucian cross and, as if below the threshold of consciousness, feels and experiences everything we have said here. His soul becomes something other than it was before. Such symbols have this effect on the human soul, precisely because they do not correspond to any external reality. They stimulate the soul to so-called imaginative knowledge, to that knowledge which represents the first step in the ascent to the higher worlds.

I have been able to present only the Rosicrucian cross as an example. We could cite a hundred other examples. The disciple must gradually familiarize himself with these symbols, just as someone who wants to learn to read must become acquainted with letters and signs. Only in this way can he attain a higher form of existence, and then such a one, who has the patience and persistence to live himself into the pictorial representations of such symbols, has a special experience.

To get an idea of what kind of experience a person has when they are awakened, we need to gain some insight into human nature. This nature offers man the great riddles of existence, and it is precisely in what he experiences daily, so to speak, and what can present him with the deepest riddles, that he passes by indifferently. These riddles of existence are encapsulated in four words: waking and sleeping, life and death. These four words describe the greatest riddles of life.

Of course, it is not possible in a short hour to discuss in detail how one, in terms of spiritual science, should think about the nature of man in relation to these four words. But what should be mentioned is what the one who is able to explore the spirit in the way described today experiences in man and his changes in everyday life. Is not this everyday life, with its alternation of waking and sleeping, a mystery? We see how, from morning till evening, a person is filled with the impressions of the day, how all his senses are constantly taking in perceptions. We see how the person then processes his external impressions with his mind. But we see how, in the evening, when he falls asleep, the person sees all his impressions of the day and all the experiences of the soul sink away. We see how man sinks, as it were, into the sea of temporary forgetfulness of pleasure and pain, joy and sorrow, but also of all perceptions of everyday life, of sounds, of warmth and so on, which fill his soul from morning to evening, how he sees all his inner soul experiences fade away and, as it were, unconsciousness surrounds him.

Now it would, of course, be foolishness – an easily understandable foolishness – to say that a person ceases to exist in the evening and is reborn in the morning. What is at issue is rather that man is a complex being, a being not merely consisting of those limbs, the eyes with which we see, the hands with which we can feel, but that in addition to this physical body we have even higher, superphysical perceptual faculties. When a person falls asleep at night – and we will now only consider the transition from waking to dreamless sleep, leaving the intermediate state and the state filled with dreams to one side – when a person falls asleep, part of their being remains in bed and another part, the one that cannot be seen with any external eye, withdraws; the very vehicle of joy and sorrow, pain and pleasure and passion, the vehicle of sensory perceptions, withdraws, and during the night it is outside the physical human body.

In spiritual science, we call that which leaves the physical body when we fall asleep the astral body. Don't be put off by this word; it has nothing to do with the stars, it is simply the supersensible part of the human nature, which withdraws in the evening and leaves the physical body to itself. The human being truly exists from the evening when he falls asleep until the morning when he wakes up. He sleeps and the consciousness of which we shall now speak, which is developed here as clairvoyant consciousness at awakening, emerges like a fine but spiritual luminous form as the astral body itself when the person falls asleep. In the spiritual world, the human being is present in his spiritual essence, which is around him.

Why does man not see these facts and entities when he is in his astral body at night among spiritual facts and entities? For the same reason that a blind person does not see colors and light. Imagine your eyes being closed to your physical body! The world around you is dark and gloomy, colorless. Think away the ears! The world is mute and soundless. And if you think away all the organs, the world gradually becomes a nothing. Only that is there for man, for which he has organs, nothing else! When, let us say, the luminous cloud of the astral body withdraws from the physical body at night, the human being has no organs in his astral body with which to perceive in the spiritual world. The result of this is unconsciousness and darkness around him.

What happens when a person does not live an ordinary, normal life, but allows himself to be affected by what has just been described to you through the one symbol, when he devotes himself to such things in his soul , when he develops his soul with calmness and perseverance in such a way that, while becoming deaf and blind to his external surroundings, he is able to immerse himself completely in his inner life, which is called a life of meditation and concentration? What happens then? This is something that clairvoyant consciousness can observe. An indeterminate astral body becomes a definite one. What happens in the astral body is as if the physical body were to gradually develop eyes within it. In the manner described, spiritual eyes and ears are incorporated into the astral body; an indeterminate cloud becomes a structured astral organism. The consequence of this is that the human being now no longer experiences nothing, but that what enters spiritually for the sensual body when the eyes and ears are incorporated into it. This now occurs for the astral body.

What man achieves through patient meditation and concentration in such pictorial and other representations through the corresponding teaching of spiritual science, that was called the process of purification in circles where people knew something about spiritual science. Why purification or catharsis? For the reason that man from now on in terms of his development was no longer dependent merely on external impressions and then must remain unconscious and has no external impressions, but because he now, when he leaves out all impressions, as it is in sleep, nevertheless has a world around him. Because he can be purified and refined and still have experiences, just spiritual experiences. This is the first step, which is achieved by such means as we have described.

But there must also be a second stage in spiritual development if man is to become a real clairvoyant. We will be able to understand this stage, this higher stage, when we realize that when we fall asleep, not only a physical part remains. Even in this physical body, which remains in bed at night when we fall asleep, we have a superphysical, a supersensory. The easiest way to understand this – and today it can only be mentioned – is to go deeper and deeper into theosophy. You will see that this is being elevated to the level of proof despite all the objections of external science. The easiest way to understand this is to compare the human being as he stands before us with some external physical object.

What is the physical body of man is, has the same forces and materials as the external inanimate so-called mineral bodies. But there is a huge difference between the people and a mere mineral being. You can see a mineral being that has a certain shape. How can the form disappear? By being smashed or destroyed from the outside. From the outside, the form must be destroyed. What is the human physical body – and we are now speaking of the human being, otherwise we would have to say that it is the same for every living being – what is the human physical body, it is also made of physical forces and substances, just like the outer nature, but when these forces and substances are left to themselves, what do they do? They dissolve the form, they disintegrate.

What can be called the dissolution of the form of the physical human body occurs at death. When a person dies, what remains before our eyes, before the external senses, is a physical body; this now disintegrates into the physical and chemical substances that are within it. But it is no longer a human body, it is a corpse; and while a stone retains its form through the forces and substances at work in it, the human body will disintegrate and dissolve the moment it is left to its own physical and chemical substances. Spiritual science shows us that from the moment of its formation until the moment of death, an enduring fighter lives in our body, as it does in every living being. This fighter continually works to prevent the physical body from disintegrating during our lifetime. Just as we see the astral body floating out of what remains in bed when the person falls asleep in the evening, so we see that which remains in the physical body during sleep floating out at death. In this way, death differs from ordinary sleep. That which we find in life as a fighter against the disintegration of our body, we call the etheric or life body in relation to the physical, and the difference between sleep and death now becomes clear to us.

During sleep, not only the physical body but also the etheric or life body remains lying, and from these two the astral body rises with self-awareness. So every night. In the morning, when the person wakes up, his astral body descends again into the physical body and into the etheric or life body and uses the organs, the eyes, the ears and so on. When a person passes through the gate of death, only the physical body remains, which is now a corpse, and the etheric body lifts off with the astral body. Such is the difference between sleep and death.

The fact that the etheric body, with what this etheric body has experienced in the earthly, is raised up, enables the human being to pass over into a spiritual world after his death, in which he continues to live. But this question should not concern us, what the human being takes with him from his life into the other existence, but rather what is connected with the where and how of the spiritual researcher.

The etheric body does not emerge even during sleep, but remains with the physical human body. The astral body, on the other hand, floats out during sleep, and when the person wakes up, it re-enters the physical body. At the moment when the astral body, through the contemplation described to you, through that meditative life, when it acquires imaginative knowledge in symbolic and other representations, for example, at that moment when the astral body receives its spiritual and so forth, he brings these into the etheric body in the morning, and the result of this is that the person does not wake up in the morning with the feeling, “You were unconscious.” Instead, when he awakens, he says, I was in a spiritual world among spiritual things and beings, I was in my true home, in that world from which my soul and spirit come just as my physical body is from the physical world.

The second, higher stage of clairvoyant life contributes to the fact that the astral body, with what it develops at night under the influence of the inner life, illuminates the etheric body. This is called enlightenment. These are the first two stages of clairvoyant life.

At first, there is the realization that the person does not wake up from the sea of unconsciousness, but with the memory that he was among spiritual beings during the night. He knows that there was a spiritual world around him; and then he comes further and further so that during the day, in his physical body, he can see around him that which is around us, which fills space just as much as the physical world, that he can see the spiritual world around him between and through physical things. Thus man does not find the spirit through external perception, but he finds it by awakening his soul through precisely defined methods and means, which could only be explained by an example today. He brings the forces and abilities slumbering in him to a higher level, finds the spirit in himself, and thus can perceive the spiritual world in the spirit that he has awakened in himself.

Thus, through the development of a new consciousness, through purification and enlightenment, the human being lives his way up into the spiritual world. And again, imagination, this immersion in images, is only the preparation for the perceptions of the actual spiritual world. For here we are faced with an important fact of inner experience. Someone might raise the question: Yes, but what a person has in his inner life at first are only unreal images, only pictures, only symbols. — Of course, at first they are. But if he assimilates these symbols in the right way in his life, then the time comes when he can say to himself: Now, now I have arrived at the moment when I no longer have only my real ideas, but now, because I have made something specific out of my life, an objective world flows in on me.

Only experience itself, observation, can teach one to distinguish between how long one lives in mere ideas and when one arrives at the spiritual facts and spiritual entities that come from outside. Just as you can distinguish in the sensual life between mere conception and the perception of reality, so too there comes a moment when you can distinguish through experience the inner life of mere conception in the imagination from outer [supernatural] reality.

One could indeed say: In the physical world, the existence of real things can be proven. No, it can only be experienced; it can never be proved by experience. The mere idea in the sensual world is to be clearly distinguished from perception, and if someone wanted to claim, as a false philosophy does, that our world consists only of ideas, he may consider what a difference there is between the idea of a glowing steel and the perception of a glowing steel. He can clearly see the difference that exists. Imagine being in front of a glowing piece of steel and try to determine such clear and correct concepts from it. The philosophical prejudice that the world is our imagination cannot be proven, only the reality of things can be experienced.

Just as things are outside of us and become our ideas when we face them, so too the inner, intimate life that arises through meditation and concentration in those images and in other ideas, which of course cannot be described here due to the limited time, but can only be illustrated by the example of the Rosicrucian , then man, when he practices the inner life, can see the time approaching when he says: I no longer have a Rosicrucian before me, but I have reached the moment when spiritual beings approach me who are just as real as the external sensual things when I imagine them. This is experienced, and what he does is a preparation. This is indeed how the life of the soul unfolds during awakening.

When ascending into the spiritual world, the opposite of what happens in external reality occurs. In external reality, we first have the objects and the experience; then we form the ideas. In the higher, spiritual, supersensible world, we must first transform our imaginative life and then wait patiently until we are able to allow the truth, the spiritual, the supersensible reality to take effect on our soul. And it will depend entirely on whether the person has practised a corresponding development of character, parallel to meditation and concentration, and has maintained such certainty and stability by that time that he can distinguish between imagination, hallucination and reality at the decisive moment. Ultimately, only life can give this distinction. Just as the fool is a fool who mistakes his imagination of the rose for a real rose, so man can naturally hallucinate and have illusions in the spiritual realm, even more easily, of course, if he does not retain inner security until the decisive point. But if he retains his inner strength and certainty, so that he does not waver for a moment, and says to himself: Only when something comes to meet me in my prepared soul is reality, I speak of spiritual reality; everything else I regard only as preparation; only then will he be able to distinguish spiritual reality from deception just as surely at the decisive moment as the outer man can distinguish between imagination and reality.

So, my honored attendees, today we should deal with the question: Where and how can we find the spirit? It is not by constructing some external instrument that one can find the spirit, but by transforming oneself into an instrument for perceiving the spiritual world. And so it is true that the soul's inner powers are capable of development, that, to speak again in Goethe's sense, spiritual ears can develop out of this soul, just as sensory ears and eyes develop out of the body.

Thus man finds the higher world through his own higher development. Even if today only a few can make themselves spiritual instruments for the exploration of the spiritual world, these few can still tell of the facts of the spiritual world. Since the human soul is not designed for delusion and error, but for truth, the communication of the spiritual world can be received by unbiased thinking in such a way that man first receives a presentiment of the truth of the spiritual world. Then there is the hope that, with appropriate instruction, he can gradually make himself such an instrument of spiritual perception over the course of a long, austere life. The best preparation is to begin with, to absorb and understand, in pure, unbiased thinking, in sound mind, what the spiritual researcher can grasp in the spiritual world.

Then, through such intellectual preparation, the presentiment and hope of higher experience will arise, and the human being will have in his feelings that which solves the riddles of the higher worlds and reveals the secrets of these riddles. And he will feel, experience, the truth of Goethe's words, who stood more than is usually believed in these spiritual worlds and secrets, which Goethe also expresses in his life poem, in “Faust”, at the point where he says that the sage speaks. Yes, it is precisely by living in the facts that each of us can find for ourselves within ourselves the confirmation of the words of this wise Goethe, for spiritual science offers messages about the spiritual world and awakens the hope of one day passing through the gate that currently separates human beings from these worlds. And so it will come true, through what is today called theosophy or spiritual science, when it becomes more familiar with humanity, what Goethe has the wise man say in “Faust”:

The spiritual world is not closed;
Your mind is closed, your heart is dead!
Rise up, bathe, disciple, undeterred
The earthly breast in the morning dawn!

An important question of life will be treated from the point of view of Theosophy, a question that points to the highest heights of life and plays into our daily lives, which must occupy us always and forever.

We must first come to an understanding of Theosophy. It has only recently emerged in our spiritual life and is only now receiving a mission for humanity. And so we first want to discuss its nature and way of thinking. It wants to penetrate the spiritual world in a form that corresponds to today's longing, wants to teach that behind everything perceptible there are spiritual causes, wants to penetrate to these causes through real knowledge, which can be placed alongside the scientific knowledge of the present.

There are many prejudices among those who have only a superficial knowledge of it, and many misunderstandings. First of all, there is the misunderstanding that it could cause someone to doubt the beliefs they hold, as if Theosophy were a new religion. This is a mistake. It will never mislead anyone with regard to their religious creed. It will only lead people who are misled by materialistic science to religion. Thus, it will become clear to those who delve deeper that Theosophy makes one more deeply religious. Another misunderstanding is that Theosophy wants to transplant a Buddhist, Indian worldview into Europe. This is a mistake, something like that cannot be transplanted. Theosophy has the task of deepening European spiritual life, and to do that it must take into account the roots from which it has developed over the centuries.

And now the causes, the sources: where does Theosophy draw from what we want to discuss today? It is based on an honest recognition of what we call “development”. However, it does not say: we only recognize the external and its development – like materialistic science – but we admit that the human being is vividly involved in development. This development progresses, the human being will always develop further, indeed, the human being can not only observe this development, he can also promote it because he is a self-aware being. Just as a seed develops and a plant grows out of it, so too is a soul not only what it appears to be on the outside – you also cannot tell from a seed what forces lie dormant in it, what kind of plant can develop from it – so too does the human soul contain forces that can be developed, and Theosophy shows by the living example that something completely different can become out of the souls.

Today we ask about the hidden sources of life and death, and the answer of materialistic science is: We cannot know anything about it. But the theosophist says: Certainly, as man is now, his knowledge has these limits, and he cannot know about them, but these limits can be expanded through development, and then he can know about them.

If this limit is to be exceeded by development, then new organs must first develop. Theosophy now shows the way in which new forces and new organs can come to life in us; it shows the way in which the soul can become an instrument for higher development. Just as the microscope and telescope have assisted the sense organs in increasing our knowledge of the external world and have become the instruments for this kind of scientific knowledge, so the soul can also become an instrument of spiritual science. A scientist considers this to be fantasy and denies that something like this is possible. Fichte, the great philosopher, once said: Imagine a gathering of many blind people, among whom are a few sighted people who talk to the blind about color and light. Will the blind be able to understand and believe these words? But if one were given the gift of sight, light and color would shine for him where there was darkness before. Our perception of the world around us depends on the organs we possess. New organs can open up new worlds, just as the microscope and the telescope have shown people new worlds.

And so spiritual science speaks of the spiritual world. The fact that man develops the organs contained in him in a germinal form and becomes familiar with higher worlds, the fact that this is possible, is how one can judge the whole of spiritual science. Because only experience counts. The experience in spiritual worlds is there; spiritual research is being done and the results of this research become the content of theosophy.

Of course, only those who have experienced enlightenment can research, just as only those who have done the necessary studies can do microscopic research. But the spiritual researcher's research is comprehensible to people when it is communicated in the usual way. And these communications are valuable to [them], even if not every soul immediately reaches a higher level of development. Every person can listen to these messages and ask themselves whether life provides evidence for what the researcher says, whether it proves to be true in life.

So let us talk about life and death and hear what the researcher says and what life says. The researcher says: To understand this great mystery, we must first understand the nature of man. We are dealing with a four-part entity. The first link is the physical body. Theosophy is completely on scientific ground when considering this. The physical body is one with nature. But only after death does it appear to us on its own, and then it follows its physical laws and forces and dissolves. Now, theosophy says: something else must be sought in order to understand the whole person; this cannot be the whole person. This other thing, which prevents the physical body from disintegrating during our lifetime, is a force, a second body that we call the life body or etheric body. This life body permeates the physical body. The researcher now sees this life body; it is therefore an experience. Man has this life body in common with all of nature, with plants and animals.

Let us imagine a human being. A part of space is filled with the physical body, and within that is the life body. But something else lives in this filled space that is very close to the human being. There lives something that he knows as lust and suffering, as joy and pain and passion. That lives there, and he cannot grasp it, cannot see it, but it is there, and the seer sees it as the astral body. Man has this in common with the animal world.

Now the fourth part, which makes man the crown of creation: every thing has a name given to it from outside. We call these names of things, of persons; these names sound to our ears from the outside. Now there is a name that cannot be used in this way, that only a mouth can pronounce, the mouth of the one person whose essence is to be described: we only say “I” about ourselves - each one for himself. We say “I” about no one else. And this little word describes the very core that we have in common with no other being on earth. No animal has an ego. This ego, which can only be heard in every single soul, has been called the “divine substance” by all deep worldviews. This fourth part of the human being is therefore its divine core. But just as a drop of water is not a sea, such a divine core is not a god.

But in this fourth link there is something that is of the same substance as that which the world lives and weaves through, this fourth link, through which man stands out above everything - every sensible poet has spoken wonderfully about this fourth link, for example Jean Paul, when he recognized as a child: “I am a I.” - If we know this, we can understand much of the riddles of life.

Furthermore, the juxtaposition of waking and sleeping on the one hand and life and death on the other is significant and profound. What does waking and sleeping mean? The waking person stands before us in such a way that his four limbs are interwoven and work together. When a person falls asleep, the outer world, the soul world, sinks into an indeterminate darkness. The I and the astral body detach themselves from the lower limbs and live in a spiritual world during sleep.

Why does man know nothing of this life in the spiritual world? Because he has no organs in his astral body and all his perceptions can only be made through his physical organs. And these cannot be applied in the spiritual world. To acquire such organs of the astral body, intimate soul processes are needed. My writing 'How to Know Higher Worlds' talks about this. But once the astral body has formed organs, it also possesses them during sleep. The eye was created by the light; in the same way, the soul can also create organs for itself through exercises, and we call a person with such higher organs a seer.

During the night, the human being draws the strength to be able to live at all. While awake, the astral body, which is completely immersed in the physical and etheric, gives its own powers to these. Now it has to replenish what it has used up, and it can only do so in the spiritual and astral worlds. The etheric body, which is the creator of the physical body, also needs a replacement for its powers. But it cannot leave the physical body as long as the physical body lives in the physical world. Now there is a law that was formulated many years ago by an Italian, Francesco Redi: “Living things come only from living things.” This seems obvious to us. At that time, however, it was not obvious, because it was believed that earthworms came from mud. Francesco Redi was considered a scientific heretic. Today, Theosophy says: spiritual things only come from spiritual things. Now the same thing happens as when Francesco Redi contradicted the common belief based on his more precise observation. Today's scientists think we are fools and fantasists. But theosophical belief that the soul-spiritual comes only from soul-spiritual will one day be as self-evident as Francesco Redi's view has become today. But for us, strength, confidence and consolation may arise from it. More precise observation proved the superstition, and only inaccurate observation can say that man comes only from his parents. No, the soul-spiritual comes only from soul-spiritual. And with that, the realization of re-embodiment is connected. That which lives in us as soul-spiritual is the repetition of soul-spiritual that was there before, and at the same time is the cause of what is to come. The two higher members thus work their way into the human being, and that gives abilities. But this happens in a very special way because it is of soul and spiritual origin.

While the two higher members leave the etheric body and physical body when falling asleep, at death the separation is extended to the etheric body as well, and only the physical body remains behind. Now accept something with the same faith that you have in scientific researchers. When the physical body is released at death, the memory tableau of the human soul comes to the fore, because the etheric body is the carrier of memory, and this power now works intensely without influencing the coarse physical substance; a similar thing can happen when someone is about to drown or in the event of a nervous shock.

This memory tableau of the whole life lasts only a short time, then the etheric body leaves the astral body, and only a summary of the acquired abilities of the past life joins the astral body and remains for eternity. This is followed by the time of purification, during which the soul relives the life again and gets to know every suffering it has caused to other people as an obstacle to development and feels it as its own suffering, and thereby receives the impulse to make amends. After that, the ego, now connected to the life fruits of the ether body and the impulses for reparation of the astral body, enters devachan, the kingdom of heaven, and dwells there for a long time until the will to enter reality becomes so powerful that a new embodiment occurs. [Gap in the text basis]

The world is interwoven with spirit – only from spirit can we create spirit. Human wisdom can be found out there in nature. Just as wasps make paper, swallows build walls, and bees build – we absorb spirit from the outside, we are fertilized by this spirit, we are always absorbing. Just as the whole life of a plant is concentrated in its blossoms and comes to fruition in its fruit, and just as so many plants die while producing seeds, developing germs for new plants, the same happens throughout life in humans. The soul of the human being unites with the spirit of the world, what has been brought from the past is like a scaffolding. The eternal self begins to connect with the outside world and becomes new. Gradually the scaffolding will lose its significance, the soul-spiritual contracts more and more and now ascends to a higher level. But the new needs the new, the old must fall away. The body, which is the result of the earlier, must fall. Nature in its spirituality has invented death in order to have much life. A necessity for development is the death of man – animal and plant death are something else. And so death becomes something that guarantees us the opportunity for development.

Under this condition, much that was previously dark is understood, including the Old and New Testaments, these supreme books of humanity. — Eating from the tree of life is forbidden to man, because otherwise he would have to stop in his development.

Death is only a transformation of the human form; external science cannot comprehend death because it eludes the external organs as it destroys them. But working on the astral body can create psychic organs, and the experiences of the seer are then the same as those of death:

Tell it to no one, only to the wise,
Because the masses immediately mock,
I will praise the living,
That longs for death by flames.

And so long as you do not have that,
This dying and becoming!
If you are only a gloomy guest
On the dark earth.

Theosophical knowledge, however, transforms human hearts; love revives in them, that love that is not only preached but is lived. Generalized expressions are nothing. We must penetrate step by step, seeking the spirit and understanding what it reveals. Man ascends ever higher—his life is eternal and is subject to the law of karma. This is not exactly translated by the law of cause and effect, when all experience is conditioned by previous ones.

You might ask: if this conditionality exists, why do you help one another? — Because we foresee the effect for the future, that is why human help is so consoling, and because we know that it has an eternal effect, that is why we must provide it wherever we can. We will be able to help a small number of people if we are an ordinary person. But a higher being will be able to help many people, and His love, which was revealed at Calvary, shows us the way we should go to become helpers to the many.

But the secret of death becomes for us the key of life, because the perishable must fall, so that the eternal can grow and develop to ever greater heights.

Many reasons have led us to consider how the age of intellectualism—which we have often also called the age of the fifth post-Atlantean culture—begins in the transition from the thirteenth to the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. In this age, human beings come to regard the intellect as the dominant factor in all their endeavours. We have often spoken of the way in which this intellectualism has come to develop in the various realms of inner life. Everything that is characteristic for human evolution has its more inward aspect through which it live:, more expressly in people's feelings, in their views, in their dominant will impulses, and so on. At the same time it also has an outward aspect which manifests in the conditions and circumstances which arise historically in human evolution. In this connection it has to be said that the most significant expression of the intellectualistic age so far has been the French Revolution, that great world-wide movement of the end of the eighteenth century.

For long ages before it took place, much in the life of mankind pointed to ways of striving for the very kind of social community which then came to be expressed so tumultuously in this French Revolution. And since then much has remained of the French Revolution, flickering into life here or there in one form or another in the external social conditions of mankind. Only consider that the French Revolution, in the way it manifested at the end of the eighteenth century, could not have been possible previously. For prior to those days human beings did not seek full satisfaction on this earth with regard to everything they were striving for.

You must understand that before the time of the French Revolution there was never a period in the history of mankind when people expected everything human beings can strive for, in thought, feeling and will, to find an external expression in earthly life. In the times which preceded the French Revolution, people knew that the earth can never provide for every single requirement of man's spirit, soul and body. Human beings always felt that they had links with the spiritual world and they expected this spiritual world to satisfy whatever requirements cannot be satisfied by the earthly world.

However, long before the French Revolution expressed itself in such a tumultuous fashion there were endeavours in many realms of the civilized world to introduce a social order which would allow as many human needs as possible to be satisfied here on earth. The fundamental character of the French Revolution itself was the endeavour to found a social environment which would be an expression here on earth of human thinking, feeling and willing. This is essentially what intellectualism seeks, too.

The realm of intellectualism is earthly existence. Intellectualism wants to satisfy everything that is present in the sense-perceptible physical world. So it wants to organize the social situation here on earth to be an expression of the intellectual element. The endeavour to create in social conditions something which man can strive for here on earth, even goes to the extent of the worship of the goddess of reason—which means, of course, the goddess of the intellect. So we can say: In very ancient times human beings ordered their lives according to the impulses which came to them from initiates and mystery pupils; through them they took into their social order the divine spiritual world itself. Then social conditions moved on to those of, let us say, Egypt, when the social order took in what the kings learnt from the priests about the will of human evolution as it was expressed, for instance, in the stars. Later still, in older Roman times, the times of the Roman kings, the endeavour was made to bring about social conditions based on research into the spiritual world. The meeting of Numa Pompilius with the nymph Egeria is an expression of this.¹ More and more out of this interweaving of the spiritual with the earthly, social realm came the requirement: Everything on earth is to be arranged in such a way as to be a direct expression of the intellect.

To express this in a diagram you would have to draw a downward curve. The French Revolution comes at the lowest point (see sketch), and from here onwards things had to start moving upwards once more. This upward movement was indeed immediately attempted as a reaction to the French Revolution. Read Schiller's Letters on the Aesthetic Education of Man (Aesthetical Essays). There we can see quite clearly, for instance, how he was stimulated by what was expressed in the French Revolution in an external way to seek a new connection to the spiritual world within man's inner being. For Schiller the question arose: If it is impossible to create a perfect social order here on earth, how can human beings achieve satisfaction with regard to their thinking, feeling and will? How can they achieve freedom here on this earth?

[IMAGE REMOVED FROM PREVIEW]

And Schiller answered this question by saying: If human beings live logically, in accordance with the dictates of reason, they are servants of the dictates of reason and not free beings. If they follow their physical urges and instincts alone, then in turn they are following the dictates of nature and are unfree. He then came to say: The human being is actually only free when he is working artistically or when he is enjoying something artistic. The achievement of freedom in the world can only come about when the human being works artistically or enjoys art. Artistic activity balances what is otherwise either a dictate of reason or a dictate of nature, as Schiller puts it. Living in the artistic realm, the human being feels the compulsion of thoughts less with regard to an artistic object than he does in the case of logical research. Similarly, what comes to him from the object of art through his senses is not a sensual urge. The sensual urge is ennobled by the spiritual seeing of something artistic. So inasmuch as a human being is capable of working artistically he is also capable of unfolding freedom within earthly existence.

Schiller seeks to answer the question: How can man as a social being achieve freedom? And the conclusion he reaches is that the human being can only achieve freedom if he is a being who is receptive to art. He cannot achieve freedom by being devoted to the dictates of reason or the dictates of nature.

At the time when Schiller was writing his Letters on the Aesthetic Education of Man (Aesthetical Essays) this came to expression in a wonderful way in the interaction between Goethe and Schiller. This is shown in the way Schiller perceived how Goethe was rewriting his Wilhelm Meister at that time. Schiller was full of enthusiasm for this way of writing and for this depiction of inner freedom, because Goethe as an artist was a creative spirit—not in his intellect but in the freedom of his thoughts—yet one who, on the other hand, still remained within a sensual experience of art. Schiller sensed this. He felt that Goethe in his artistic activity was as free as is a child at play. We see how Schiller is enthused by a free human artistic activity which is reminiscent of a child at play. His enthusiasm led him to say in one of his letters to Goethe: The artist is the true human being; in comparison even the best philosopher is a mere caricature.² But his enthusiasm also led him to say: The human being is only truly human when he is at play, and he only plays when he is truly human.³ Frivolous or merely entertaining play is not meant, but artistic activity and artistic enjoyment. The human being dwells within artistic experience, which means that the human being becomes truly free: This is what Schiller is saying.

At the point where the line starts to curve upwards from what had been—with regard to a social order—the goal of the French Revolution, towards something for which human beings have to wrestle inwardly and which cannot be given to them by institutions of the state; at this point, what price was the human being willing to pay for this social freedom? He was prepared to pay the price that it could not be given to him through logical thinking and that it could not be given to him through ordinary physical life, but that he could receive it only in the exclusive activity of artistic experience.

These feelings were indeed engraved within the best spirits of that age, in Schiller in a theoretical form, and in Goethe too, who actually practised this life in freedom. Let us look at the characters Goethe created out of life itself in order to reveal genuine humanity, the true human being. Look at Wilhelm Meister. Wilhelm Meister is a personality through whom Goethe wanted to depict the true human being. Yet seen from an overall view of life he is actually a layabout. He is not a person who is seriously searching for a world view which includes the human soul. Neither is he someone who can manage to hold down a job in external life. He loiters his way through life. This is because the ideal of freedom striven for in the work of Goethe and Schiller could only be achieved by people who had removed themselves from a thoughtful and hard-working way of life. It is almost as if Schiller and Goethe had wanted to point to the illusion of the French Revolution, to the illusory belief that something external, like the state, might make human beings free. They wanted to point out that human beings can only wrestle for this freedom within themselves.

Herein lies the great contrast between Central Europe and Latin western Europe. Latin western Europe believed in an absolute sense in the power of the state, and it still believes in it today. In Central Europe, on the other hand, came the reaction that the human ideal can only be found within. But the price for this would have to be the inability to stand squarely in life. Someone like Wilhelm Meister had to disentangle himself from life.

So we see that at the first attempt it proved impossible to find full humanity within a true human being. Naturally, if everybody is to become an artist so that, as Schiller put it, society can become entirely aesthetic, this may be all very well, but such an aesthetic society would not be very good at coping with life. I cannot imagine, for instance—let me be really down to earth for a moment—how in such an aesthetic society the sewers will be kept clear. Neither can I imagine how in this aesthetic society certain things will be achieved which ought to be achieved in accordance with strictly logical concepts. The ideal of freedom shone before mankind, but human beings were unable to strive for this ideal of freedom when they stood fully within life. It became necessary to search once more for an impetus upwards to the super-sensible world, but now this had to be done consciously, just as in former times there had been an atavistic downward impetus. A new upward impetus into the spiritual world had to be sought. It was necessary to hold on to the ideal of freedom but, at the same time, the upward impetus had to be sought. First it had to be made possible to secure freedom for human activity, for active involvement in life. It seemed to me that the only possible way was that described in my Philosophy of Freedom.⁴

If human beings can achieve the impetus to rise up to an inner constitution of soul which enables them to find moral impulses in pure thoughts, in the way I have just described, then they will be free beings even though they remain squarely within full, everyday life. This is why I had to introduce into my Philosophy of Freedom the concept of moral tact, which is otherwise not found in moralizing sermons, the concept of acting as a matter of course out of moral tact, by means of which moral impulses can flow over into habitual deeds.

Consider the role played by tact, by moral good taste, in my Philosophy of Freedom. There you see that in an aesthetic society true human freedom is only applied to the feelings, whereas it actually ought to be brought also into the will, that is, into every aspect of the human being. A human being who has achieved a soul constitution in which pure thoughts can live in his will as moral impulses, can enter fully into life, however burdensome it may be, and he will be able to stand in this life as a free being in so far as this life calls for actions, deeds.

Furthermore, with regard to the dictates of reasoning, that is, the grasping of the world in thoughts, a way also had to be sought of finding what it is that guarantees freedom for the human being, independence from external compulsions. This could only come about through anthroposophical spiritual science. Learning to find their way into what can be experienced in spirit with regard to cosmic mysteries and cosmic secrets, human beings live in thoughts with their humanness into a closeness with the inner spirit of the world. Through freedom they achieve knowledge of the spirit.

What is going on here is best demonstrated by the way in which people, with regard to this, are still strenuously resisting becoming free. This is a point of view from which opposition to Anthroposophy can very well be understood. Human beings do not want freedom in the spiritual realm. They want to be compelled, led, guided by something. And since every individual is free either to recognize or deny the spirit, most deny it and choose instead something which they are not free either to recognize or deny.

No free decision is required to recognize or deny thunder and lightning, or the combination of oxygen or hydrogen in some laboratory process. But human beings are free to recognize that angeloi and archangeloi exist. Or they can deny their existence. But those who truly possess an impulse for freedom come through this very impulse for freedom to the recognition of the spiritual in thinking. In Schiller's Letters on the Aesthetic Education of Man (Aesthetical Essays), in the whole of Goethe's creative work, the achievement of human freedom through inner effort and struggle was first attempted. But this can only be achieved if we recognize that to our freedom in the realm of artistic experience must be added a free experience in the realm of thinking and a free experience in the realm of the will. These are things which must be properly developed.

Schiller simply took what the age of the intellect had to offer. In Schiller's time art still arose out of this intellectualism. Within this, Schiller still discovered human freedom. But what intellectualism has to offer in the realm of thinking is something unfree, something which is subject to the dictates of logic. And Schiller failed to recognize the possibility that freedom might also hold sway here, just as little as it might hold sway in deeds, in ordinary, hard life. What we have had to achieve through the introduction of anthroposophical spiritual science is the recognition that freedom can also be recognized in the realm of thinking and in the realm of the will. Schiller and Goethe recognized freedom solely in the realm of feeling.

But the path to a full recognition of human freedom can only be trodden if human beings are able to achieve an inner vision of the connection between the spiritual realm they can experience in their soul, and the realm of nature. So long as two abstract concepts, nature and spirit, are seen by human beings as being mutually exclusive, it will not be possible for them to progress to a proper conception of the freedom I have been describing. But even those who do not work their way towards life in the spiritual world, by means of meditation, concentration exercises and so on, can certainly experience something, if they are willing to recognize, simply with their healthy commonsense, what has been found through Imagination, Inspiration and Intuition. Simply by reading in books or hearing in lectures what is brought to the fore in the world through Imagination—and provided they remain alert—people will soon need to approach these revelations from the spiritual world in a way that differs from their approach, say, to a book on physics or chemistry, or on botany or zoology, even though this different approach can just as much take a course which follows ordinary healthy common sense.

Without developing any great inner activity it is possible to absorb everything written today in a book about botany or zoology. But it is not possible to absorb what I have described, for instance, in my book Occult Science, without inner energy and activity such as that needed also for ordinary healthy common sense. Everything in this book can be understood, and those who maintain that it is incomprehensible are simply unwilling to think actively; they want to absorb it as passively as they absorb a film in the cinema. In the cinema there is certainly no need to think very much, and it is in this manner that people today want to absorb everything. What they find in the laboratory can also be absorbed in this way. But what is said in my book Occult Science cannot by absorbed in this way. Occasionally some professorial souls do attempt to absorb it in this way. In consequence, they then make the suggestion that those who perceive such things ought to be examined in psychological laboratories, as they are called today. This suggestion is just as clever as requiring someone who solves mathematical problems to be examined in order to ascertain whether he is capable of solving mathematical problems. To such a person it is said: If you want to find out whether these mathematical problems have been solved correctly, you will have to learn how to solve them, and then you will be able to check. Only if he were stupid would he retort: No, I don't want to learn how to check on the solutions; I shall go to a psychological laboratory in order to find out whether they are correct! These are the kinds of demands made today by some professorial souls, and their words are taken up by all sorts of ‘generals’⁵ and repeated parrot-fashion with evil intent. Such demands are foolish and stupid, but this does not prevent them from being made with the greatest aplomb.

But those who enter with inner activity into what comes from Imagination will certainly find that something bears fruit in their soul. It is not insignificant for the soul when an effort is made to understand something that has been discovered through Imagination. For instance, it is extremely difficult today to make medicines effective for the treatment of illnesses. But someone who has made the effort to understand something given through Imagination will have reactivated his vital forces to such an extent that medicines will once more be effective for him—provided they are the right ones—because his organism will no longer reject them.

It is stupidly suggested nowadays that anthroposophical medicines are supposed to heal people spiritually through hypnosis and the power of suggestion. You can read this in all manner of magazines which refer to remarks I have made on my lecture tours in recent months. But this is, in the first instance, not the point. The point is that today's medical knowledge needs to be advanced positively through spiritual knowledge. Of course it is not possible to heal somebody by inoculating him with an idea. Yet spiritual life, taken quite concretely, does have significance for the effectiveness of medicines. If a person endeavours to understand something given through Imagination, he makes his organism more receptive to medicines—provided they are the ones needed for his illness—than is the organism of a person who remains in the thought structure of today's external intellectualism, that is, of today's materialism.

Mankind needs to take in what can be given by Imagination, if only for the reason that the human physical body will otherwise succumb more and more to a condition in which it cannot be healed if it falls ill. Healing always requires assistance from the element of spirit and soul. All the processes of nature find expression not only in what takes place on the sense-perceptible plane. These processes on the physical plane are everywhere steeped in the element of spirit and soul. To make a sense-perceptible substance effective in the human organism you need the element of soul and spirit. The whole process of human evolution requires that the soul make-up of human beings should once more be filled with what can be grasped by soul and spirit.

It is true to say that amongst human beings there is certainly much longing for soul and spirit. But for the most part this longing remains within the unconscious or the subconscious realm. Meanwhile, what remains within human consciousness is no more than a mere remnant of intellectualism, and this rejects—indeed resists—anything spiritual. The manner in which spiritual things are resisted is sometimes quite grotesque. Before a performance of eurythmy I usually explain that eurythmy is based on an actual, visible language. Just as the language of sounds develops out of the way the physical organism is arranged, so it is with the visible language that is eurythmy. Just as—sound for sound—all vowels, all consonants struggle to be born out of the experience of the human organism, so in eurythmy is sound for sound gathered together, resulting in genuine language. You would think that on being introduced to eurythmy people might endeavour to find their way into the fundamental impulse which tells us that eurythmy is a language, is speech.

Of course it is perhaps not immediately obvious as to what is meant. But with serious intent it is not too difficult to find one's way quite quickly into what is meant. The other day someone read something really funny in a review of a eurythmy performance. The critic pointed out that the impossible nature of this eurythmy performance was revealed in the fact that the performers first gave a rendering of some earnest, serious items, and that they followed these with some humorous pieces. The extraordinary thing, said this witty critic, was that the humorous items were depicted with the same gestures as the serious ones. That is the extent to which he understood the matter. He thought that humorous things ought to be shown with sound gestures that are different from those used to depict serious matters. Now if you take seriously the fact that eurythmy is a visible language, then what this critic says would amount to saying that any language ought to have one set of sounds for serious things and another for humorous things! In other words, somebody reciting something in German or French would use sounds such as I or U, or whatever, but that on coming to a humorous item they would use other sounds. I don't know how many people noticed what utter nonsense this critic was writing in one of Germany's foremost newspapers; but this is what he was saying in reality. This shows that in such heads every capacity for thinking clearly has ceased; they are entirely unable to think any more.

This is the final consequence of intellectualism, which is gaining ground today in all realms of life. People begin by allowing their thoughts to become the dead inner content of their soul. How rigid, how dead are most thoughts which are produced these days; how little inner mobility they have, how much are they parroted from models created earlier on! There are extraordinarily few original thoughts in our present age. But something that has died—and thoughts today are mostly thoughts that have died—does not remain constantly in the same state. Look at a corpse after three days, after five years or after forty years. It goes on dying, it goes on decomposing. If somebody states that a eurythmy performance is impossible because it uses the same gestures for humorous and for serious items, this is a thought that is decomposing. And if this is not noticed it is simply because people are incapable of schooling their common sense by means of inspired truths such as those arising out of Anthroposophy. If people school their common sense by means of inspired truths, even if they do not undertake any spiritual development, then they acquire a delicate sense for the living truth, and for what is healthy and unhealthy in human thinking and in human endeavour. And then—if you will pardon my saying so—statements such as the one I have just quoted begin to stink. People acquire the capacity to smell the stench of such decomposing thoughts. This capacity, this sense of smell, is for the most part lacking amongst our contemporaries. Most of them do not notice these things, they read them without taking them in.

It is certainly necessary to look very thoroughly into what mankind needs. For human beings definitely need that freedom of thinking in their soul constitution which can only become possible if they raise themselves to a position in which they can take in spiritual truths. Without this we come to that decline of culture which is clearly to be seen all around us today. Healthy judgment, the right immediate impression—these are things which mankind has for the most part already lost. They must not be allowed to get lost, but only if human beings can press through to an acceptance of spiritual things will they not be lost.

We must pay attention to the fact that human beings can find in Anthroposophy a meaningful content for their lives if they turn with their healthy common sense to what can be won through Imagination, Inspiration and Intuition. By opening themselves to what can be discovered, for example, through Imagination, they can recapture that inner vitality which will make them receptive to medicines. Or, it may be that they will also become free personalities who are not prone to succumb to all sorts of public suggestions.

By entering in a living way into the truths revealed by Inspiration, they can gain a sure sense for what is true or false. And they can become skilful in putting this sure sense into practice in the social sphere. For instance, how few people today are able to listen properly! They are incapable of listening, for they react immediately with their own opinion. This capacity to listen to other human beings can be developed most beautifully by entering in a living way into the truths given by Inspiration.

And by entering in a living way into the truths given by Intuition, human beings can develop to a high degree something else which they need in their lives: a certain capacity to let go of their own selves, a kind of selflessness. Entering in a living way into the truths given by Imagination, Inspiration and Intuition, this gives human beings a meaningful content for their lives.

Of course, it is easier to say that people can gain a content for their lives out of what Ralph Waldo Trine⁶ promises. It is easier to say they need only read the content of something in order to gain a content for their lives, whereas it is more difficult to obtain a content for life in an anthroposophical way. For along this path you have to work; you have to work in order to enter in a living way into what research reveals through Imagination, Inspiration and Intuition. But then it becomes a content for life which unites intensely with the personality and with the whole human being. This secure life content is what is given by what wishes to enter the world as Anthroposophy.

• 1 . Numa Pompilius, 715-672 BC. Roman King. By tradition, the nymph Egeria was his wife and adviser.
• 2 . Letter to Goethe of 7 January 1795.
• 3 . Schiller, On the Aesthetic Education of Man, Letter 15.
• 4 . Rudolf Steiner, Philosophy of Freedom, Rudolf Steiner Press, London 1988.
• 5 . This is a reference to speeches given by General von Gleich.
• 6 . Ralph Waldo Trine, 1866-1958. In Tune with the Infinite, London 1915.