The Rudolf Steiner Archive

[Architect Schmid: We want to create the daily bread in the broadest sense, not a caricature of what it is supposed to be. Just as each column on the Johannesbau is the only, correct, best expression of what it is supposed to represent, so it should be with our entire environment. The aim is not to create cheap coffee and so on, but the right coffee, cocoa and so on. The name you choose is Maja; we should offer the right thing for the same money.

Many speakers spoke, then Mr. von Rainer: I had to ask the bread whether it wants to be sold like this. It told me: That's a sore point. - That doesn't suit the bread, the bread doesn't want to know anything about that either. The lowest possible prices, [that] doesn't suit the bread either. The bread is opposed to all these privileges because, in a sense, they violate the occult law under which it stands. That would just be another area of selfishness. Bread is very demanding and wants to be treated well and lovingly. It is against all modern business relationships and prefers a good wearer. Bread wants nothing to do with advertising. On the one hand, the matter must not take on fixed forms, but on the other hand, there is a desire to help others when the principle of altruism can be carried out in contrast to selfishness.

Rudolf Steiner: We should definitely avoid bringing something into the world in an indefinite way. Above all, we must be clear that it is necessary for us to proceed practically, to bring something viable into the world. Of course, some of the general principles that are developed are useful, and it is a practical matter. If we don't want to talk at cross purposes, we have to take something important into account. As unlikely as it seems, this touches on the practical side of the matter: Mr. von Rainer has stated that the bread feels offended, and Mr. Schröder has apologized. The bread cannot excuse anything by its very nature. It is necessary that we absolutely take into account the real factors.

In the moments after such a mistake as the one that has now been apologized for, but I think that when such a mistake is made later, it is important that it be translated into reality. In the moments when something like this is done, we are immediately dealing with the material consequences of it. We have to proceed practically; we talk about many points without any basis. What we should talk about would be: How can a trading company be established, how should it relate to those of our friends who produce something in some field or other and have something to sell, how can an understanding be reached with consumers? Basically, we cannot elect a commission; we cannot become a consumer association as an Anthroposophical Society. Things must develop in such a way that someone finds inspiration in their impulses and others go to them. It would be a mistake to choose a commission. We have to develop understanding and act on the basis of the original initiative. We can only be understanding consumers as an Anthroposophical Society. We can exchange our views. There are many things to consider. It is extremely important that this trade association does not take a purely materialistic point of view, but above all takes the point of view of offering support to good, appropriate production. The difficulties that arise from today's commercial nature, that those who are involved in material life cannot help but develop principles, however good a person they are, [that they] cannot help but develop the principles, as Mr. Schröder has described, that they apply in England, according to which a mistake would be worse than a crime.

But I ask you, what should the merchant, the mediator do today in the face of the fact that he has to reckon with the cheapness of the goods and not with the quality. People want cheap bread without the bread being properly right and good. Measures of value are basically false, and if we want to gain understanding, we must gain this understanding by not basing ourselves on a foundation that has not fundamentally improved the social order. Anthroposophy must advance humanity, and we must base ourselves on a foundation that advances. We can, of course, do such a thing quite properly, but we have to approach it practically; it has to yield something fruitful. We have nothing to do with patterns. We have to work from what is properly at hand; if we work according to old patterns, the only thing that can happen is that we achieve something old. We cannot establish a company to market Rainer bread, but we can spread understanding that we eat this bread! The trade association should be a mediator in the most practical way possible.

It would be completely impractical to proceed in the way we do for a purely idealistic cause, that we would organize collections. For a matter that is based on a material basis, it is not a matter of not having confidence in it from the outset, that would be an admission of failure from the outset, but rather of launching a matter that is actually well-founded, and it is a matter of the people who have an understanding of it participating with the prospect of interest and profitability. We did not want things to be based on material considerations that would fall apart after a few years, even though they had been justified several times. Capital should not be raised for an idealistic cause, but everything should be based on a practical foundation. These things must be taken into account; they are very beautiful when done right, but they should be understood in such a way that we stand vis-à-vis Mr. Schröder in such a way that we give him advice and he gives us advice, and should not talk about selfishness and altruism.

After a few other [speakers], Dr. Steiner takes the floor again and says after a few introductory words:

Of course, I take it for granted that everyone here is in favor of this trade association. We are in favor of everything good, and [it is also self-evident] that we consider Mr. Schröder to be a capable man for the job. It is very nice when there is such enthusiasm for the cause. However, I would like to emphasize right away: I am not here to

but I have experienced exactly the opposite of what Ms. Wolfram has claimed: the teaching of Saturn, Sun and Moon is quite easy to explain; people accept it readily. But if you tell them to have their shoes made by the shoemaker or to have a whole sack of Rainer bread delivered, that is more difficult than getting the teaching of Saturn, Sun and Moon across. Above all, it is necessary for the Theosophists to start thinking rationally and not just to be enthusiastic about practical things, but to persevere in the long run.

It is normal that everything is wrong at the beginning; it is usually very difficult to find understanding when this or that is wrong. The new thing about theosophists is that they should be aware that the good things are bound to appear with certain dark sides, which is self-evident. How often have we had to hear that what is based on an incorrect approach to the matter; some loaves of Rainer bread went moldy; that it is moldy is a sign that it is good, my dear theosophical friends, because vegetables only grow on good soil. It is only a matter of us working against such a thing. On the other hand, we must be clear that there are also difficulties inherent in the matter. I don't see why we can't look at the matter soberly. The story is nothing new, something we have always had in small circles. There have been many of us who said to others: Get your shoes made by this shoemaker, buy your bread here or there. There were also those who volunteered to get the necessities, to travel to cycles, order rooms and so on. All this has already been done.

Mr. Schröder has realized that something should be organized, and the newspaper is also just an expression of systematization, where it is best to turn, systematization of the matter, so that one can work more rationally when organizing a matter than when it is left to chance. Because we have the belief that when anthroposophists do something right, it will be a beautiful and ideal thing; they will do things quite differently, namely, the anthroposophists. I mean a connection between those who have something to offer - be it food, be it something else - they should connect with the trade association, where the thing is offered. It will be seen that the thing will flourish. I will be blunt: the only possibility is that it pays off in a rational sense. If someone can do or provide something well, the trade association will come to help them make a living. It is understandable that some of us producers have certain difficulties as such. A producer cannot count on a purely anthroposophical clientele. There are many details to be considered.

After further interjections, Dr. Steiner takes the floor again:

It is only necessary that this point of view be put into practice immediately, starting with the fact that what is there can be sold; and then adding more and more. We need what has been said today to be understood as nothing other than a statement from consumers to producers.

We do not need to postpone for the reason that the rest that needs to be done should come from the trade association itself. It should get in touch with our producers and get things moving. What we would like from our other friends is for them to get into the habit of taking things a little more seriously – the trade association can't do anything about that – and to be as well organized as possible when no one is buying from them. To do that, we need to talk a little, so that understanding is gained and not just among the small circle of those present, which is a small circle for 2,500 members. Try to spread understanding when you yourself agree with it, for this specific thing. Then we will actually make progress in this area, and then the matter is not so infinitely important, whether we say more or less: we take into account the other people or those who are among us. — Finally, it is quite true that we should carry anthroposophy out and not close ourselves off materially. But we shall also do what is necessary to support our materially productive friends; it is more important to accommodate a friend who is productive in some field and is part of society than to accommodate another who does everything he can to harm our movement just because it is more convenient for us. Altruism is not what moves us forward, but staying the course.

After further interjections, Dr. Steiner says the following:

Regarding Mr. Schröder's planned publication of a newspaper that is supposed to contain only an extract of the events of a certain period of time: It is not easy to publish such an extract. Just imagine: We were supposed to edit telegrams about the Balkan War that were supposed to be objectively true. One would have to proceed purely clairvoyantly – and that would be black magic in this case, [that] would not be a means of the physical plan to give a purely objective picture.

The advertising story is a questionable thing. We have to take the view that it is being done practically, that will gradually come out. Paid advertisements are not practical. And even if it is tried today, it will be different in a year. The advertising system will have to be different. It will do the newspaper good if it takes the approach of other newspaper companies. The big newspapers live from advertising, but that is also what they are like. A newspaper cannot help but take on a certain configuration if it lives from advertising. Take a large newspaper company. I would like to know how many readers there are who read these advertisements. Do you think that those who spend money on advertisements are unaware of the situation I have just described? Those who place these advertisements and pay for them with hard-earned money have very specific reasons for placing them. And even if these advertisements are not successful the first time, they still have an effect in a variety of indirect ways. It is natural that newspapers should be dependent on advertisements. In short, it will not prove to be practical at all. Only a newspaper that does not depend on advertisements, that can live on subscribers, can be in a position as it should be. A newspaper that relies on only one advertisement cannot possibly stand on solid ground. You may say that we anthroposophists are reforming the advertising business. I would like you to start with practical principles. The impractical people consider themselves the most practical because they are familiar with this subject. If they set up something new, they are not at all practical. It must be borne in mind that things must be done in a truly practical way. It will then become clear that a great many things that we imagine are not possible in practice.

Someone could easily say today: We are anthroposophists, we can easily organize things, everything should be put on a healthy basis. Certain things are in the nature of things. The advertising business cannot be reformed. If you base something on advertising, it cannot be reformed. Certain things are an inner necessity. So it is with many things that come into question in this matter, they cannot be reformed, they must be removed. Nothing can be reformed in the commercial sphere. The trade association would make no sense if it were to incorporate the principles of consumer associations and cooperatives. Our task is to ensure that what we receive is procured rationally and appropriately; commercial aspects must take a back seat. We must be sober and practical in our judgment. Our work must ensure that what is actually being implemented is that the paths of healthy, appropriate production are opened up to consumers. There is no reform in the commercial sphere. If you are dealing with a certain type of thing from the outset, you can only say: I don't want anything to do with the article, or I have to say that it is good. We must want to help healthy, appropriate production.

[Mr. Selling: draws attention to “Lucifer-Gnosis”, issues 30-32, where you can find the basics of understanding.

Dr. Steiner: The Rainer bread is just practical, that's what it's supposed to be eaten as.

H. Klepran: If not everyone can enjoy it, it's because it's living bread, in contrast to the dead bread we are used to eating.

Dr. Steiner: Found a very fine small handkerchief. Really nice! I believe it belongs to a lady.]

So, my dear friends, we have finally come to the end of our meeting, but we can highlight one fact in all of this. You see, my dear Theosophical friends, something extraordinarily important seems to have taken place. One might ask: Was it a general assembly? What was it actually? When it is talked about later, it will be said, “Once upon a time...” — just as it is said in fairy tales. We were still members of the Theosophical Society in Adyar when we arrived here, but now we are no longer members. Something earth-shattering seems to have happened, but in terms of the matter, one has not actually noticed it. We are again diverging in terms of the matter, as we used to diverge, and precisely this fact, that we can do that, that we do that, is a very important one. Perhaps this does testify to how serious we were about the spiritual, about the cultivation of spiritual culture, about the content of our cause; and if we were serious about that, no form will break this content, but this content will seek its new form if the old one is challenged.

As for myself, my dear Theosophical friends, I must confess that, with regard to the external events that have occurred, I have been so touched by the matter that I must say again: things actually only differ in degree. You see, Mrs. Besant has found it necessary to make the claim, which defies all facts, that I was educated in a Jesuit school. It is so that one must take it seriously, because it is a very strong accusation in the present, and effective if it were believed in relation to the inner, to the hateful motives.

And with regard to the other underlying motives of Mrs. Besant, I find only a slight difference compared to another accusation that came across my eyes, from a letter that is one of a whole series of letters. I received a letter from Hamburg in which a lady writes that she had always been persuaded not to go to the lectures, but now she had seen for herself, because before she never went because a pastor had said that I was a Satan. I have not yet read the other letters, but there is one coming every day, sometimes two. Shortly before the lecture here in this hall, a letter was brought to me – I should definitely read it before the lecture. In the letter, a lady wrote to me that she had heard some of my lectures that she liked. But now she looked me up in the dictionary of writers to find out how old I actually am, and she discovered that I carefully dye my hair, because people my age don't have black hair anymore! So she can't come to my lectures anymore, because it would be outrageous and speak to the prevalence of such a thing.

You hear all kinds of things and finally, the accusations are to be distinguished according to the motives for how they are made effective. The motives are human, all too human, whether one or the other makes them, whether one is accused by Mrs. Besant of having been educated in a Jesuit school or by another lady because of something else. That's how people act. There are many more stories I could tell.

Something that really did meet with the enthusiastic support of our friends – the printing of the cycles – is also being made the target of attacks. I am being reproached for the fact that it says: “According to a postscript not checked by the speaker.” But there is a very simple reason for this; I don't have time to check the postscripts. They would never see the light of day if I had to read them first. The person concerned says: He – Dr. Steiner – has not looked at the matter, so he always leaves himself a back door open if he were to be caught making mistakes.

In this way, one can suspect everything, while we have really only taken into account the energetic wishes of the members. We are dealing with serious, profound, and meaningful things, and so we must be able to fully distinguish between what is a serious and sacred matter and what is an external form, and we must not sleep and believe that we can always dream and talk about the content to get ahead. The worst things could happen to us if we were not on guard, if we did not take into account the need to remain vigilant. And in this respect, I was also able to tie in with what Dr. Peipers said today, the word about keeping watch. There is also a productive way of keeping watch. That is in our nature and not in that of our opponents.

I hope that we will part peacefully, with the feeling that we will remain united intellectually.

Goodbye!

My dear friends!

Before I come to today's reflection, please allow me a few words. It may not have remained unknown among our friends that it would correspond to my inclination to speak most gladly about the factual theosophical things from the very beginning, namely about the objective matters of the spiritual world. But sometimes it turns out to be necessary to address a word to our friends that does not belong to the matter at hand, but to our affairs. Much as I dislike it, it sometimes has to be done. It had to be done in the most diverse ways during the period when the affairs that led to the free-standing Anthroposophical Society; and unfortunately it is necessary from time to time, again and again. Therefore, allow me today to say a few words to you before we come to the subject of our consideration.

It is always the case, though, that you don't really know where to start. But it happens time and again that these or those misunderstandings, these or those things open to misunderstanding, creep into our ranks. The one who can understand this best, the one who can really understand this well, is really myself. But if nothing were said at all, it would not work either. I do not want to bother you with matters that have been discussed often enough. Because I feel, I would like to say, up to a kind of creepy feeling, I have been told more often by these or those lately: Thank God! Now that we have the Anthroposophical Society, we no longer have to worry about the matter, now we can have peace and quiet. It is a nice feeling to have peace and quiet. But it is creepy when there is this exaggerated need for peace and quiet if there is no peace from the other side. And there are enough other people around us to ensure that we do not give peace a chance! That is why I would like to make a heartfelt request to you not to live too much by this need for peace. Misunderstandings arise easily, understandably. And if I had always been understood since 1907, many things would not have come about that quite understandably did come about. If only they had had the will to represent what I tried to do with a certain clarity, to see it, to understand some of what was in what I tried to do, then they would have acquired a certain power of discernment since 1907, perhaps even earlier.

Please forgive me for discussing these matters in such a dry, seemingly presumptuous way; but it has to be done because no one else is saying it. I would rather not say it. If we had acquired the ability to distinguish between things wherever work was considered important for the further progress of our cause, then the case could not always arise that, in addition to what we are trying to do, which, as our friends know, we are trying to do out of seriousness, out of real seriousness about occultism on the one hand and about the occult situation at the time, which I I tried to characterize in a general way the day before yesterday, if one had acquired a proper sense of the seriousness with which we should actually take the matter, it would gradually have become self-evident that much of the selfish stuff – if you will allow the expression – even such selfish stuff that came from Adyar in the years mentioned would simply have been viewed in the right way.

It has caused me, I must say, a certain sadness - do not misunderstand the expression, the occultist in a sense knows no sadness - but yet I must say: It has caused me a certain sadness that in the way things are tried, the question could arise: How does the view presented here of the Christ problem or similar things square with what Miss Besant presents? It saddens me because it shows that the seriousness with which these matters are treated here is not appreciated in the right way, is not understood in the right way. Since no one else is saying it, I have to say this, although I would rather not because it could be misunderstood. I had hoped that people would not just look at the differences, but at the inferiority, the whole inferiority that is found in occult stuff, which has sometimes been taken up as if it were necessary to deal with it. I had hoped that discernment would arise for what one has discernment for in other fields! These are the words I would most like to avoid saying myself. If someone does something with seriousness and dignity and someone else does a botched job, you don't ask: How does what was done with seriousness and dignity deal with the botched job, with what openly bears its inability on its forehead!

Thus it was necessary, at the starting point of our anthroposophical movement, to address a heartfelt request to you not to live too much in the need for calm and indifference in the face of what is sufficiently done in the world to throw dust in the eyes of our contemporaries about what is reality. It is not enough for us to acquire knowledge of these or those things with a certain curiosity – but it is necessary because there are other people living around us to whom we must gain access with what needs to be done in the spirit of the time mission. It is not enough to inform oneself with a certain curiosity about the monstrous things happening in the Theosophical Society and otherwise rest on the cushion of the Anthroposophical Society, but it is necessary to gain the appropriate attitude in one's soul. Because if this appropriate attitude is not gained, what must be done as a highly necessary defense will always be distorted in the most outrageous way. One should not believe that those people who are now trying to distort everything that must come from us as a necessary defense, or who are trying to simply accept such outrageous attacks in a seemingly noble way, one should not believe that either of these people are right. What is being done against us often comes from people whose actions show the kind of spirit behind it. Therefore, I would like to ask you not to let old comradely feelings prevail where the truth is concerned. In the course of my endeavors in developing the German Section, I have always had to come into conflict with the increasing inability to distinguish. And even if our friends had developed more and more discernment between the stuff that is spreading and what is being tried here – it is unpleasant for me to say this – and even if our friends had tried to apply discernment, it would not have been possible to come to me with every piece of nonsense that comes from the other side.

Those who are familiar with the work that has been done by this side know that this is not based on intolerance, but on [painful] necessity. Inability has always had to be dealt with: examples can easily be given. For example, one should not have believed that so much was possible, as was expressed in the General Assembly, that something even more outrageous would be added to the outrageous! After the Jesuits were criticized from Adyar, one would have thought that these outrageous acts could not be surpassed. Miss Besant has made it possible to surpass these improprieties by managing, in her publication, which until recently was itself still being read in some of our lodges, not to retract the Jesuit accusation, but to reinforce it and justify it by referring to three people. The system is not to take back the untruths, but to refer to three others who have told the untruth.

We must find it within ourselves to respond to these outrageous acts, and to subsequent ones. At the beginning of the German Section's work, a certain personage wrote me a card containing the following words, which were meant to sound friendly: “We are all pulling in the same direction, after all.” I could not for a moment think of pulling with this personality in one direction; because it would have been a violation of our serious work to pull with this personality in one direction. So such personalities had to be shaken off; because they did not want help to improve their incompetence, but they wanted to push themselves forward with their incompetence. This personality is one of those who now raise the Jesuit accusation, one of those on whom Mrs. Besant relies, a personality who, like Mrs. Besant, upholds this Jesuit accusation.

As unpleasant as it is to talk about these things, it cannot be spared. The soul must find the opportunity to take a stand on these things. We cannot allow the belief that something is justified because it calls itself Theosophy to serve our contemporary world in this way.

Another person, who had once been introduced to me by a Theosophist, sent me a writing of his that had nothing to do with what had to be done out of the seriousness of our movement. I also had to reject this person, which this personality wrote about a series of writings that are published by a certain publisher; anyone with discernment could see from this preface how incapable such a personality is of rational thought. There are many such personalities. The matter required that the personality discussed be rejected. That is the second of the personalities on which Mrs. Besant relies. I must keep emphasizing such things. It should be understood that it is not a license for anything if a person calls himself a Theosophist. The rejection of the Jesuit accusations that originated in Germany and which Mrs. Besant has recently allowed herself to be guilty of was easily seen through. What I said in Berlin was easily seen through. One could have found that it is not a matter of thinking about a matter in one way or another, but that the whole matter is not true, that the whole matter is untrue! The person who has been designated by Adyar as the General Secretary of the German Section finds the opportunity to have the following printed: Dr. Steiner and his followers reject this with indignation. Why this indignation, actually? Is it dishonorable to have dealings with Jesuits, or is it criminal to be dogmatic?

So, my dear friends, the man who wrote this dares to write this to throw dust in people's eyes – I won't say he intends to, but it happens because of it. If someone says to me, “You broke stones in your youth,” and I say, “It's not true,” is it a retort when someone says, “Breaking stones is an honest occupation after all”? It doesn't matter if it's an honest occupation; what matters is that it's not true! We have to get into the habit of not engaging in such things. There are still people who say, “It's not meant to be so badly, he has justified himself.” It depends on the fact that it is not true! For this we must acquire a sense of discernment, so that we cannot see such stuff without inwardly taking a stand on it, without feeling how outrageous such things are. It is easy to carry out journalistic skirmishes over and over again if you leave what it is about undisturbed and write about something that has nothing to do with the matter, because people who do not feel the obligation to acquire discernment are deceived by it.

There is another page that I would like to read to you, but the whole brochure is like that again! I have included in the “Mitteilungen” in the General Assembly report that I was written to by the man who then became the General Secretary in Germany: It would be incomprehensible to him how Krishnamurti could have gone through all that he was supposed to have gone through, but that is not the point; people in the West have no understanding of what an adept is. That is why Mrs. Besant chose the path of calling the one with whom she parades – those are his words – the Christ. In response to this account, one dares to write: “Something else, a fourth way of using the word ‘Christ’ – I can only ever serve you with one use of the word, though – was the [my writing of July 4, 1911, that Mrs. Besant uses the word “Christ” occasionally, based on the idea of Paul, but in a more exact sense, namely for an “adept” or “master who has already reached the goal of human perfection. Since the present-day cultural world knows no other model for this than Jesus, it is justified to use the term 'Christ' under certain circumstances also for the human being in whom the Christ-being reveals itself in its full abundance. But the present time is such that people read this without thinking.

Much to my regret, I had to mention it here: because I must point out that it is part of the essence of the theosophical sentiment to feel that what is being done here under the flag of theosophy is actually the most outrageous thing! It would be the most outrageous thing if anyone harbored the belief that such people could still be converted! The question arises again and again: what could be done to teach this or that person a better opinion. The assumption arises again and again that it can be a matter of that at all! Those who have raised the Jesuit accusation in this way cannot be converted. It would be the most impossible undertaking to even want to negotiate with such a person!

This is one of the theosophical misunderstandings. The real issue is that we should not allow our fellow human beings to be put off by things that are said because of human laziness!

It was necessary for me to make these few remarks. I made them reluctantly. It never ceases to amaze me how even now, within the Anthroposophical Society, the belief can sometimes arise that some kind of work of initiation is to be developed on that side. I have learned many things about Adyar matters that I will not discuss here.

The founding of the Anthroposophical Society began with such accusations being made from the other side. I understand the love for the cushion. But we also have the obligation to represent our cause without camaraderie, without regard to the person, if that person is dominated by such motives, as is the case here. We see how it begins; it is not yet complete. We will have many opportunities to sit on our pillow of rest if we close our eyes. It is right that we only take care of our own business, represent our cause positively and do not look to the right or left; it is right when we are the aggressors. But when it comes to our defense, I have to admit that it saddens me – now that it is about our sacred cause – that the days are filled with dealing with individual personalities, but that I have no time to defend our sacred cause against such outrageous attacks. And since this sorrow sometimes really has to befall me within the most necessary activity for our individual members, it was probably necessary to talk about these things here once. It will not happen too often that these things are spoken about, because I will wait and see if souls find the opportunity to truly confess themselves, which actually lies in the fact that today, in our time of crass materialism, in this time when there is so little sense of duty to examine the truth, that a matter that is so seriously meant may be attacked in such a way. For the sake of the cause and for the sake of the path that the cause must take into the hearts and souls of our contemporaries, it is necessary to write such things into our hearts. This is truly our holy cause! And I would not have spoken these unpleasant words if I had not been urged on by the whole assessment of the matter. I would feel obliged to continue to do what I have been doing for years within the movement, undeterred by what can happen in such a way. But if one feels such an obligation, one may still direct one's attention to it, so that souls may find the possibility to find the unheard of also unheard of, to find a position to the unheard of, not to allow that our present is approached with such things.

My dear friends, with all my warmth, with the deepest friendship, I say to you: we will work, I will work with you on what needs to be done. When souls find the right position, the right thing happens in the outside world; all action develops out of the right attitude. I will wait.

Wilhelmstraße 92/93, House of Architects

Report in the “Mitteilungen für die Mitglieder der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft (Theosophischen Gesellschaft), herausgegeben von Mathilde Scholl”, No. 6/1914

At 10:30 a.m., Fräulein von Sivers opens the General Assembly with the following words:

My dear friends! On behalf of the Executive Council, I warmly welcome you to the second General Assembly, the first ordinary General Assembly of the Anthroposophical Society! For as long as we have held general meetings of the Theosophical Society, it has been customary for the General Secretary of the Theosophical Society to also chair the general meeting. However, it is the right of the general meeting to elect the chair. On behalf of the board, I propose that Dr. Steiner be elected to chair this general meeting. I ask you to vote on whether you agree to this.

The meeting unanimously accepts this proposal.

Dr. Steiner: My dear Theosophical friends! We are gathered here for the first time in a regular General Assembly of the Anthroposophical Society, and it is my duty to greet you most warmly and to express my joy at the large number of you who have come. I would also like to express the hope that this first General Assembly of our Society will be fruitful in all respects. My dear friends, you have surely brought with you hearts filled with an anthroposophical spirit for this day, hearts throbbing with the enthusiasm that is necessary if a spiritual current is to be brought into existence in the world, a spiritual current like ours, which can certainly, without being guilty of the slightest exaggeration, be said to have to be born in pain. And from the many antecedents that have befallen us in recent times, it will indeed become clear that we have a great need to approach our task with great seriousness and a certain urgency at this time.

Before I try to continue the train of thought that I have stimulated with a few words, I would like to dedicate the word to those who have left the physical plane since we last gathered here and, as members of our movement, which is so close to our hearts, now look down on our work from the spiritual world. I would like to take this opportunity to emphasize once again that those who have passed away from the physical plane will continue to be considered our members in the most beautiful sense of the word, and that we will feel united with them as we did when we were still able to greet them on this or that occasion on the physical plane.

First of all, we would like to remember an old theosophical personality, old in the sense that she was connected with what we call true, genuine theosophical life for the longest time of most of our ranks, Baroness Eveline von Hoffmann. She is one of those who have imbued their entire being and active will with what we call the theosophical attitude. Many have come to appreciate the deeply loving heart of this woman, if only because they have felt infinite strength flowing from this heart in times of suffering and adversity. Although little of this became known to the outside world, Mrs. von Hoffmann was a loyal and self-sacrificing helper to many. And we may consider it a particularly valuable thing that she, who had been involved in theosophical development for a long time, was last in our midst. And with her dear daughter, who is still with us, we will keep the memory of this loving, loyal, and helpful woman, who wants to be united with her in the spiritual world.

I also have to remember some old members who left us for the physical plane this year. I have to mention our dear old friend Edmund Eggert in Düsseldorf. If some of us perhaps know the great inner difficulties that our friend had to struggle with, the heroic strength with which he became involved in what we call our spiritual current, then those who knew the good, dear man will certainly join me in making unceasing efforts to continue to be loyal friends of our dear Eggert in the spiritual worlds. And those of the dear friends who hear this, what I say from a troubled heart, will faithfully send their thoughts to the one who has passed from the physical plane.

I also have to remember a dear, loyal member, a member who always gave us sincere, heartfelt joy when we were able to see her in our midst time and again, our dear Mrs. van Dam-Nieuwenhuisen from Nijmegen, who left the physical plane this last time, and who certainly was one of the most beloved personalities among those who were her close friends, who worked faithfully for our cause as long as we knew her, who in particular also did a great deal to ensure that our cause was appropriately represented among our Dutch friends.

I must also mention a loyal, if perhaps quieter member, who always gave me great joy when I was able to see her in the circle of our dear Nuremberg friends, Fräulein Sophie Ifftner. She was much appreciated in the circle of our Nuremberg friends, who will ensure that the way is created through their feelings so that we will always find her when we seek her in the spiritual worlds.

I would also like to mention another faithful friend who has been active within the circle of our worldview for many years. She has been tragically recalled from the physical plane to the spiritual worlds. I would like to mention one of those to whom she has become dear and precious, and who want to be and remain with her in their thoughts, Miss Frieda Kurze.

I would also like to mention our Julius Bittmann, who was torn away from his dear family and from us, until his last difficult days, the fixed point of his inner life, despite difficult external circumstances, in what we call Theosophy. It was a deep joy for me to be able to spend the evening before the death of our dear Bittmann at his side once more, and I am sure that those of our friends who were closer to this man will not fail to form the path here as well, on which the theosophical thoughts unite us with the friend in the spiritual world.

I must also mention Jakob Knotts in Munich, who was a man who, after all his various struggles in life, finally found his firm support and his definite point of reference in Theosophy, so that his friends will be his mediators in the same way.

I must also mention another friend who left the physical plane during this period. Mr. Eduard Zalbin, who had come to us from Holland, was sadly mourned by his wife and children when we saw him depart from the physical plane through a quick death. Shortly before this occurred, Zalbin was still at our last general assembly, and his departure from the physical plane had to be pointed out there.

I would like to remember an old friend of the Stuttgart Lodge, who had organized her innermost life in such a way that she associated everything she thought with Theosophy, and who will now certainly be surrounded by the thoughts of all those who knew her, Miss Duttenhofer.

I must also mention Miss Oda Wallers, who we felt was connected to our cause with all her soul, for a long time. She was one of those souls who was as loyal to the cause as a human soul on earth can be, so loyal that we not only saw this soul depart from the physical plane with deep sorrow – a sorrow that does not need to be particularly emphasized in this case because all those who knew Miss Oda Waller knew her, felt it with the deepest sympathy – but at the same time we looked up to her in the spiritual world with the most beautiful hopes, with those hopes that are justified in the case of such a faithful soul, who, like Oda Waller, has firmly established in her heart to remain connected to the theosophical cause for all time. There will be more than a few who, united with their dear sister Mieta Waller, will be in heartfelt contact with our dear Miss Oda Waller.

I have to remember our Munich friend Georg Kollnberger. Those who knew him will be our mediators when we reflect on him with our feelings and emotions.

I have to remember a dear friend in Bonn who left the physical plane not so long ago, Miss Marie von Schmid. Those who knew her feel deeply how closely connected Miss von Schmid's soul was to the spiritual life. Those who felt a close connection with Miss von Schmid, a soul so open to the spiritual life, have lost a great deal, as have those who felt a close connection with an outwardly shy and withdrawn nature. It is so pleasant to meet such a nature in life. Precisely because she was so reserved, we got to know her so little. Those who knew her understand what I mean by these words.

We have to remember a member who, in terms of his physical strength, was unfortunately taken from us all too soon, a man who was happy to put his physical strength at the service of our cause, but who will also be an esteemed member in the form in which he is now connected to us, Mr. Otto Flamme in Hannover.

I must also remember our friend Fräulein Munch, who was found in the circle of our Nordic friends in our midst, and who, after a long, heroically endured illness, despite the most careful and loving care, finally had to leave the physical plane. Perhaps those who were closest to her will have the most understanding for what I would like to say about this soul, when we consider how she clung to the theosophical cause, I would say with inner strength, and passed through the gate of death with it.

I would also like to mention a friend who had also become acquainted with our friends in Berlin and who, after long and severe suffering, has recently left the physical plane. She was fully aglow with the yearning to implement in practical life on the physical plane what shone so beautifully for her heart and soul. We are sure that she will now continue her work in other places in a way that we also assume for our dear friend Flamme from Hannover.

All those who have passed away, as well as those who have become less well known in the circles of our members, we remember in this solemn hour: Mr. Brizio Aluigi from Milan, Mrs. Julie Neumann from Dresden, Mrs. Emmy Etwein from Cologne, Mrs. E. Harrold from Manchester, and we affirm that we sense, we want to live with them in thought – with these dear departed members, who, after all, have only changed the form of their way of life for us – that we want to surround them with the forces and thoughts with which we are accustomed to connecting with those friends who have left the physical plane; we affirm this will and remembrance by rising from our seats.

Dr. Steiner continues:

My dear friends!

First of all, I have to read out some letters that have been sent to the General Assembly of the Anthroposophical Society.

To the General Assembly of the Anthroposophical Society. On behalf of the Swedish members, we send our fraternal greetings and wish that the coming year may bring good success for our spiritual striving. We also express our heartfelt gratitude to Dr. Steiner, Miss von Sivers and our German brothers and sisters for all that we have received in the past year.

Stockholm, January 15, 1914.
The board: Gustav Kinell, Gustaf Ljungquist,
Anna Wager Gunnarsson.

Zwolle, January 17, 1914.
Zwolle working group sends warm greetings and best wishes for the meeting.
[Gaston] Polak.

Prague, January 17, 1914.

The Prague working group sends its warmest greetings to the assembled members and asks the holy protecting powers to help us all so that we may work together to bring about a vibrant and harmonious development and prosperity of the high teachings and revelations entrusted to us. May our Society remain inwardly healthy and strong, and may it continue to be a spiritual brotherhood that brings help, consolation and blessing to all people for a long time.

Ptikryl

I am sure that you will all accept these very warm greetings with thanks.

My dear friends!

Perhaps I may, in accordance with the custom of earlier years, say something in advance to this assembly; something that is really meant not otherwise than as a kind of greeting from the bottom of my heart to your hearts and souls, a greeting that I feel so deeply this year because we are united in this way for the first time within our Anthroposophical Society. For in a sense, the constituent assembly that we had to hold last year was what we had to hold. But only this year have we been able to see how many souls want to walk with us. And it shows itself to us through your extraordinarily large attendance. Perhaps it is right, at the very point of origin of our anthroposophical endeavors, to bring ourselves face to face with what we actually want to be with our goals and endeavors. When we turn to these goals and endeavors with our thoughts, two feelings must prevail in our souls, side by side, for they can hardly go hand in hand. One is a deep awareness of the necessity and importance of the spiritual life, to which we want to be devoted in our time with seriousness and loyalty, a feeling that must be connected with the earnest desire and the striving for sufficient energy to participate in what can deepen our time spiritually. The other sentiment that must go hand in hand with the first is what one would call, not wanting to be sentimental, but precisely in order to express something quite serious: the humblest modesty. Only in the humblest modesty and in the feeling of our inability to accomplish the great task can the necessary counter-image be created in our souls to what could so easily lead to an overestimation of ourselves and to pride. Because that is precisely the most important thing: the seriousness, the importance and the dignity of spiritual striving on the one hand; on the other hand, we can only advance in the right way on the path we have chosen in the most humble modesty towards our inability. And, my dear friends, if I may now pick up on the first thought that was expressed, we must never lose sight of the need for true and honest spiritual striving in our present time.

What I would like to tell you, I must summarize here in a few words. But there are some things I do not want to leave unspoken. What is connected with the serious feelings is what must make us attentive to the whole course of the spiritual life of our time in the broadest sense. In particular, this makes it my task time and again to point out, in a way that I certainly do not seek from a different point of view, these or those other spiritual currents, which should truly not be fought in a superficial way, but only to show how little they are suited to meet the deep, serious longings of the souls of our time. But people do not yet know about most of the deep longings that are present in the souls. Unconsciously, they rest in the depths of the souls. But the spiritual scientist tries to dive down into these depths of the soul. He knows how necessary it is to make progress in this area and to integrate spiritual science into the currents of life as far as possible. People today do not always admit that there is something in the depths of the soul like the call for these spiritual necessities. But anyone who clearly sees in the eye of the mind what souls strive for without knowing it in their innermost being can find this silent, silent call for spiritual life everywhere. And this call becomes a duty in our soul: to work together on spiritual work in order to make progress in this area.

One symptom is shown of how these or those personalities fight us, how they refute us and describe the things that come to our attention through our teaching as fantastic and unscientific. Sometimes, however, they give themselves away in the way they reject something, and by rejecting us they show that in fact they agree with us at the deepest level. Perhaps one of the most daring assertions that I have often made is that the materialism of our time, the monism in [contemporary] intellectual life, is based on fear. I have had to experience it that people from the audience, especially after such statements, approached me after the lecture and were horrified by such a grotesque assertion. I will not mention any names, I will only mention one man who has already achieved a great deal for our present intellectual life, who bears a revered name in connection with the name of our great Schiller, Alexander von Gleichen-Rußwurm, who belongs to the descendants of Friedrich Schiller, and who has already achieved a great deal. I will quote his words, which—one might perhaps call it “coincidence” if one were not a theosophist—yesterday “karma” delivered to my desk:

Balzac once dared to express the wish that a professorship in occultism would be established at the University of Paris. Such a professorship, however, is not about to be established, nor is the laboratory for the purpose of researching occult things, which Schrenck-Notzing presents as a desideratum. Even today, most people, and not only the devoutly religious, feel uneasy, afraid, horrified, and physically and psychologically repelled by any study of such things. This is usually only manifested in attempts to ridicule these things and to deny their reality. It is what Madame de Staël so beautifully calls 'Le côté nocturne de notre nature', and hand on heart: we are all afraid in this nocturnal darkness.

Please pay particular attention to these words: “We are all afraid.” Here you have expressed the opposite point of view to our own, which has been expressed again and again as a result of decades of research: that all clinging to materialism arises out of fear. So, sometimes people betray themselves by saying things that show how right we are with our views. We hear, when people betray themselves, especially when they put their hand on their heart, affirmations such as: “We are all afraid in this nocturnal darkness...”. One must look at what is going on between the lines of present life. Then one will feel the justification that is emphasized by the necessity of our spiritual work.

And, my dear friends, however slowly it may proceed, we do see fruits that show us how what is sought in spiritual heights can be implemented in practical life. I would remind you of a saying that I have taken the liberty of saying and writing often in the course of the striving of our German Section: on the one hand, our task is to search for the secrets of the spiritual worlds, to make that which we can explore , to make it our spiritual heritage and to care for it among those who belong to us; on the other hand, our task is to make fruitful in the right way what we are exploring in the spiritual life in our lives, wherever we can. And we see fruits in this respect too - I would like to mention just one symptom. Souls are maturing in our midst who, we may say, are willing to carry into the place in life where they are placed, what can be won on our ground, even outside the circle of our Anthroposophical Society. Among many beautiful phenomena, let me mention one because it was deeply satisfying for me. Our young friend Karl Stockmeyer wrote a significant essay in a journal for the Baden school system about the impossibility and impracticality of what is being striven for from many sides: to use the cinematograph to teach mathematics in schools. It is wonderful to be able to guide the soul along such paths through the problems of life, where something can be gained if one engages with the way we have to approach the matter. This is exemplified by our dear young friend Karl Stockmeyer, who in such a modest way allows what has become his to be exemplary for what is meant when I have repeatedly said and written: In addition to cultivating the wisdom treasures, one should also make practical use in life of what we can gain in our souls from these wisdom treasures. I would like to sincerely request that as many of our friends as possible familiarize themselves with the unpretentious but very valuable essay.

I always want to speak only symptomatically about such things, I want to speak so that it can be seen from the example how the things are meant. What we strive for from spiritual heights can be fruitfully applied in the particular. So when we try to bridge the gap between our spiritual values and the demands of practical life, we will gain the opportunity in many ways to let real theosophical-spiritual striving, anthroposophical spiritual life, flow into the life of the present. And such a task we have, we have a task! I would like to place all the emphasis I am capable of on this simple word: we have a task to carry into the world in a proper and correct way what we recognize as being right, what we are able to research.

The mood in the world is not one that makes such a task easy. There are people who call themselves theosophists and who have done much to tarnish the reputation of the name “theosophy”. All the more reason for us to take on this task when people who believe they are at the height of spiritual culture repeatedly condemn us for giving a bad name to theosophy. For example, in a German journal, 'Die Tat', Giuseppe Prezollini uses strange words. In a lengthy essay, he describes what he means by theosophy. He starts by talking about all kinds of philosophical schools and characterizes them - one might say - wittily. Then we have the following sentence:

Theosophy and spiritualism are becoming more popular and enjoying the increased attention that all cheap imitations receive when the real product rises in price. Of course, women are not missing either, because women go wherever the wind blows, and their presence is both a sign and the best guarantee of success.

My dear friends! It is symptomatic that such things are written by people who are taken very seriously in their field. We must really bear in mind that what presents itself to our soul as a duty, that we have to regard a sacred belt in such a way that we have to stand up for it. The direct transition is made in this essay from philosophical education to the university. I would like to make the transition to the German university.

All kinds of cheap books are appearing today. There is a collection; “Bildung der Gegenwart”; in it there is the following chapter on modern theosophy:

In Germany, the Theosophical Society in Leipzig (founded in 1897) is a center of the movement. It is a branch of the “International Theosophical Fraternity,” which considers its main purpose to be “to form a nucleus of a general brotherhood that spiritually encompasses all of humanity, without distinction of race, nationality, creed, class and sex, around which the theoretically already recognized ideas of universal human love and human brotherhood crystallize, and the highest ideals of humanity can be realized.

This direction particularly appreciates the writings of the former physician Franz Hartmann, who spent a long time in India with H. Blavatsky († 1912).

Rudolf Steiner can be considered the spiritual leader of another (more aristocratic) theosophical group based in Berlin. He draws particularly on Goethe and the Romantic period. He wants to give Germanic-Christian mysticism a modern form that will also stand up to the criticism of scientific thought. In contrast to the Buddhist disdain for our world of experience, which can easily lead to quietism, he values Christianity as a source of positive life-enhancement and a powerful way of shaping life. The existence of supersensible powers is a fact that can be grasped by direct, intuitive insight. He believes that everyone can acquire this ability of intuition through training. On the basis of such inspirational insight, he gives teachings on the cosmic development of the planets and the epochs of human history, which, however, descend into wild fantasies. (Prophecies of major events, especially of violent wars and other catastrophes, are also common in theosophical circles).

Steiner regards the soul, the actual “higher self”, as an immortal force that comes from the Godhead and returns to it. (This is reminiscent of the doctrine of the nus poetikos in Aristotle and his Arabic interpreters, cf. vol. I, p. 68, 109; vol. II, p. 4.) From here, Steiner arrives at the doctrine of the re-embodiment of the soul (to which Lessing and Goethe also tended, and which Schopenhauer, in line with Buddhism, advocates).

So now anyone can educate themselves about Theosophy for little money. But what is distressing is that this is in a treatise on the “History of German Philosophy from the Beginning of the Nineteenth Century to the Present”. What is distressing is that the man who writes this refers, for example, to something that I certainly never quoted as a source: a Buddhist catechism, a superficial compilation that no serious person can use. He goes on to quote the “Secret Doctrine”. But then he gives the sources from which he has informed himself; he mentions Hans Freimark's (!) “Moderne 'Theosophie” (1912). But that is not yet the distressing thing, because if an ordinary writer had done that, it would not have meant anything for our culture. But this is written by the full professor at the University of Giessen, Dr. Messer. We learn from it how official representatives of the highest intellectual life judge us. We must conclude: this is how men who teach our youth today write.

With such conscientiousness, a licensed professor of philosophy, an official representative of science, teaches himself about things. Is one not entitled to conclude from this: if this man writes and teaches about Kant, Fichte, and Schelling, how is our youth taught today?

I do not want to say anything against the views that Messer presents against Theosophy. It is not this opposing criticism that concerns me, but how the man who writes such things informs himself about the things. What value can his explanations of Fichte, Schelling, Hegel, etc. have if this is how the man informs himself? How, then, did that which is currently being disseminated as “science” and so accommodatingly believed by many come about? Can one not see the bleakest of circumstances here!? I am not talking about the fact that Messer is our opponent; I am talking, independently of that, about the nature of his “scientific conscience.” The final sentence in Messer's account reads:

Undoubtedly valuable ethical and religious tendencies are at work in this Theosophical movement, but only critical reflection will be able to prevent it from lapsing entirely into arbitrary and fantastic enthusiasm.

Undoubtedly, there is sometimes good will and the belief that something is known associated with what today calls itself philosophy and the like. Nevertheless, it will take a great deal of serious and genuine spiritual striving to put the incredible arbitrariness and ignorance that is spreading today into the right perspective for our time. I do not wish to shrink from pointing this out in a fitting manner, in order to show how deeply significant what I understand by seriousness and dignity is, and how it must be taken if we want to help what we call our spiritual heritage today to find its appropriate place in the world. Those who know how I avoid saying such things on all other occasions will forgive me if I put these things in their proper light on this occasion, in order to show how things stand and what tasks we must take on.

My dear friends! If, on the one hand, we link these considerations to the feeling of how serious and necessary our task is, then on the other hand, we should never forget how incapable we are, how modest we must be, how we must know how little we are actually capable of in the face of our great task. I am convinced that those who understand me will always adhere to this most humble modesty. So we must endeavor to bring our spiritual knowledge to people in such a way that we never lose the most humble modesty. If we were to take pleasure in the fact that we are compelled to speak such words, if we were to let ourselves be carried away by a feeling of superiority for a moment, it would be bad for us. We do not want to do that! We want to strive for our spiritual good in all seriousness and dignity, but we want to do so in such a way that this striving is carried by the most humble modesty, and that we carefully keep every trace of self-esteem, every trace of arrogance, away from our souls. Let this, what Karma has brought me, let this be kept in mind. I did not seek out the symptoms; they forced themselves on me. I was obliged to take Messer's book in my hands because I am obliged to inform myself about these things at the moment when I am working on a philosophical book myself. In the same way, the journal 'Die Tat' was also sent to me. This is a social monthly for German culture. I bought this, as they say, by chance from a newsagent. I really wasn't looking for these things. But I want to avoid telling you something else that I found in the farthest reaches of my mind that was similar to what I've been describing. I'll leave it at that.

I wanted to address these words as a first greeting to your souls. I think it is the best greeting I can offer you, when I speak those words that also touch me deeply, and that can contribute to our being together in the right spirit in these days, and to give an impulse for what we decide in our souls for the Anthroposophical Society, if we all decide it in the right spirit.

We come to the second item on our agenda, the report of the members of the Executive Council.

Fräulein von Sivers: The membership movement is as follows: The total number of working groups and centers is 107; of these, 47 are in Germany and 60 in other countries. The number of new members is 3,702. Of these, 19 have died and 36 have left. The total number is therefore 3,647. Of these, 2,307 belong to the working groups in Germany.

Dr. Steiner: Does anyone wish to comment on this report? Since this is not the case, we will move on to the third item on the agenda, the financial report.

Mr. Seiler: The financial statements can be described as favorable, on the one hand because voluntary donations have been received, and on the other hand because two large items have ceased to apply, namely contributions to Adyar and contributions to congresses.

Cash report

The financial statements of the Anthroposophical Society from February 2, 1913 to August 31, 1913 are as follows [in Marks and Pfennigs]:

Dr. Steiner: Does anyone wish to comment on this financial report?

Mr. Tessmar: The meeting has just heard the figures that make up the final result. The two auditors commissioned to audit the books have done so and dutifully checked the accounts. It is to be said that we found everything to be correct and in order, and we can testify that the sum of 5,340 Marks 32 Pfennigs is deposited at the savings bank; the proof of this was presented to us. I would like to emphasize that this cash report covers the period from February to August 1913, and that this year was particularly difficult because three financial statements had to be prepared. The accounts have been properly and correctly prepared. I therefore take the liberty of proposing that the treasurer be granted discharge for the period from February to August.

Mr. Seiler: I would like to point out that a large number of members are unclear about the contributions. Each member has to pay five marks in entrance fees and at least six marks in annual dues. If a member belongs to a lodge or a group, they will be registered with us by the group. In this case, the group is then obliged to pay a contribution of three marks to the central fund. It is up to the individual lodges or groups to decide what contribution they charge their members. Members who do not belong to a group have to pay six marks to the central fund. The question has now arisen as to how much should be demanded from a regional group – foreign country, section. Basically, this issue is hardly acute, since the need for regional groups is hardly present. It only exists in one case. It has now been proposed to raise one mark from the members of such a regional group. At present, the dues for foreigners have been reduced to one mark to support the group. I would also like to mention that in previous years, the individual groups had to pay a fee for the charter diploma. A fee of ten marks was charged for these diplomas.

Dr. Steiner: Does anyone wish to comment on the financial report?

Fräulein Scholl: You have heard that it has been considered whether only one mark should be paid to the central fund by the individual lodges abroad for the member. However, as long as there are no national associations (no sections), there can be no reason for foreign lodges to pay only one mark in membership fees. This is simply for the reason of sending the “Mitteilungen”. In any case, it turned out that postage costs of around 80 to 100 marks had to be paid from Berlin for each issue. In 1913, seven issues were published, which resulted in additional postage costs of around 600 to 700 marks, a large portion of which was for shipments abroad. For the “Mitteilungen”, a standard rate, an annual contribution of at least two marks from each member, should also be levied. Relatively speaking, that is still very, very cheap, since a lot of the work is done for free. In other societies, much more is levied. I would like to propose levying two marks annually as a standard rate for the “Mitteilungen”.

Mrs. Geelmuyden: If it should be necessary to translate the “Mitteilungen” into foreign languages, then it might be appropriate to set the contribution so low. As long as we enjoy the same rights, it is only fair that we foreigners also bear the costs.

Mrs. von Ulrich: I would like to agree to change the membership fee and maybe make it an occult number, so that seven marks would have to be paid as a membership fee.

Mrs. van Hoek: I would like to ask whether sending the “Mitteilungen” would not be simplified by sending the “Mitteilungen” only in one package abroad, and then having the respective lodges take over the mailing to the individual members themselves?

Fräulein von Sivers: But in the future it will probably be even more necessary to address the mail personally to the individual members. The possibility has been created that a member belongs to several working groups: This also means a complication of the management. It will be necessary to start from a registry of personalities, not from branches, when sending messages and communications of any kind.

Mr. von Rainer: If I understand Mr. Seiler correctly, there are two types of members. Those who belong to a working group and those who do not belong to a working group, the latter pay six marks to the central fund. If Fräulein Scholl's proposal is accepted, each member who is directly connected to the headquarters would have to pay eight marks. I would like to propose that we accept Ms. Scholl's proposal. Each member is managed by the working group in which they pay.

Dr. Steiner: It would be a great help for the registry if each member were registered at the time of their registration and in all correspondence at the headquarters: “Member so-and-so, managed by working group so-and-so, belonging to working groups so-and-so.”

Fräulein Stinde: If we could call the working groups that are dedicated to specific studies study groups, then there would be no confusion. Dr. Steiner: But groups could also be formed that are not dedicated to a specific study. Perhaps we could just say “group” to indicate the difference. So let's note this for once, that we say “group” and call the others “working groups” to distinguish them.

Mr. Hubo: I would like to support Miss Scholl's proposal.

Miss von Sivers: Even if this proposal is accepted, the clause can remain in place that a reduction could be granted if necessary and at the request of the student.

Mr. Tessmar: Couldn't a conflict arise from the fact that it would be very difficult to account for the costs of sending the “Mitteilungen” in Mr. Seiler's account? Let's just drop the “Mitteilungen” and simply say: the contribution will be increased. That might be assumed. If the motion passes, then it must also be determined from when this increase should be introduced.

Mr. Meebold: But if one group claims the right to a discount, difficulties will easily arise. Our group in London would have nothing against an increase in dues. But they are doing it with sacrifices, and it will be more difficult for them to continue if other groups have discounts. The “Mitteilungen” thing isn't really fair, because the foreign members receive it in German.

Fräulein von Sivers: Perhaps the dues could just be increased by two marks for all German-speaking members.

Mr. Baster: I would like to ask whether it is necessary to increase the contribution at all, since the cash balance was quite favorable. One must not forget that individual lodges already have a lot to pay for. Could not those members who receive the “Mitteilungen” directly from headquarters contribute to this?

Fräulein von Sivers: I would like to point out that we are trying very hard to reduce expenses and that it would be necessary to enlarge the office space. We are forced to work under very uncomfortable external conditions at Motzstraße 17; our rooms there are quite inadequate in the long run. It is equally necessary to increase the number of employees as our society continues to grow. This year, we received a particularly large sum of voluntary contributions from the collection in Cologne before the Anthroposophical Society was founded, and we cannot count on this in the future. We have not touched them yet, in order to have something in the coffers for future cases, but we may soon be forced to make use of them because we do have to adapt external circumstances to the rapid growth of the movement.

Mr. von Rainer: If in the future it should turn out that the contribution of two marks is too much, then that can be changed again at any general assembly.

Mr. Bauer: It does not seem entirely practical to me that the two marks should be taken especially for the “Mitteilungen”; one could then do without the “Mitteilungen”. We may certainly make the request in the interest of simplifying the work: for German members, an annual contribution of five marks will be levied for the central fund; for foreigners, a contribution of three marks. If perhaps some fear that our current increase in contributions will not be met with entirely friendly feelings, I believe the matter can be smoothed over if we decide to introduce the increased contribution only for the year 1915. That is so far away that no one will be upset.

Ms. Scholl: Mr. Bauer will excuse me if I do not agree with him on this. I find this last suggestion unjustified. I would consider it right to pay an additional two marks for the past year, for the “Mitteilungen” that have already appeared. After all, one can look back on work that has already been done. You know what had to be published in the interest of our movement, and how so many members abroad in particular were able to be informed about the true events within the Theosophical movement. When you look back on it, you have to say that it has a value that cannot be paid for with two marks today. That should encourage us to pay later rather than postpone it. I propose that we stick with the first motion to raise the dues by two marks. If individual members are unable to pay these dues, then there are certainly wealthier members in the individual lodges who could step in for them. This way, no one will be harmed.

Fräulein von Sivers: Although I can understand Fräulein Scholl, who empathizes with the difficult external conditions under which work often has to be done in the cramped rooms on Motzstraße, I would still like to ask you to accept Mr. Bauer's proposal. 1915 is a normal point in time. The building in Dornach is standing, and the huge sacrifices that had to be made for the Johannesbau have been overcome. Of course, we have received proposals in which members propose an increase in contributions. Although they show a complete lack of knowledge of the situation, they are nevertheless very well intentioned. These proposals would now have to be read out.

Dr. Steiner: My dear friends! It is sometimes in the nature of such discussions that they expand endlessly. But the whole matter can be simplified. Before deciding whether to accept the more rigorous approach of Miss Scholl or the more liberal approach of Mr. Bauer, and before voting on the Sivers motion – which would create the possibility that after some time members will be happy to pay again – we must first read two motions from our Tübingen friends.

Fräulein von Sivers:

Tübingen, January 3, 1914
for Sunday, January 18, 1914,
three proposals from the plenum.
Proposal Tübingen, regarding membership fees.

A letter dated October 15, 1913, signed by Mr. Franz Seiler and attached to the membership statistics, informed the chairmen of the groups, lodges and branches of the Anthroposophical Society that our fiscal year would be changed from the September period to the calendar year and requested the advance payment of a four-mark membership fee for 16 months. This request directly contradicts the membership fee of six marks per year stated on page 6 of the draft of the principles of the Anthroposophical Society, according to which eight marks should have been charged for the aforementioned 16 months. These six marks annual contribution must be considered as intended only for the Anthroposophical Society and do not include any local membership fees.

In the interest of improving our financial situation, with due regard to our steadily growing income and expenses, the following motion is proposed:

Motion 1: The annual contribution to the Anthroposophical Society should be maintained at six marks in accordance with the draft principles, and the corresponding four-mark contribution should be levied retroactively for each member for the 1913/1914 financial year.

Furthermore, it should be noted that until the Anthroposophical Society was founded, we were obliged to pay three marks per capita membership fee to Adyar each year. This obligation to pay dues to Adyar has expired for each member upon their entry into the Anthroposophical Society.

Almost at the same moment, we have decided to regard the execution of the Johannesbau as a sacred duty, and to do our best to make it possible. Therefore, it must be considered a matter of course and unavoidable that the three marks of annual membership dues that have now been freed up by breaking away from Adyar should be donated to the Johannesbauverein.

This leads to proposal 2:

The annual membership fee of the Anthroposophical Society in the amount of six marks should be increased by a further three marks for the Johannesbau and collected retroactively for the 1913/1914 financial year.

Rudolf Schenkel.

In principle, the above motions to increase
membership dues are supported by
Christian Schuler, Bertha Hauff, Johanna Hauff, Paul Hauff.

Motion Tübingen in favor of the
Theosophical-artistic fund

The news that this year's Munich festival made a loss of around 15,000 marks, which was only whispered and only became known in a roundabout way, aroused deep indignation in many circles of our Anthroposophical Society, especially since, according to reports, previous festivals had also ended with at least a similar deficit.

However, it must be noted that such unofficial information, which gradually leaks out, is increasingly likely to arouse suspicion about the management or financial management of an organization. It should therefore come as no surprise that otherwise generous members everywhere are very reluctant to donate through their foundations.

The unfortunate consequence of such administrative techniques is the annually recurring recourse to the capital strength of individual members who are well-to-do.

This practice must be rejected out of hand in the interest of our Anthroposophical Society, because every participant in the festival would have been willing, without further ado, to pay an entrance fee that was more in line with the expenses, even double the amount, if properly informed in a manner consistent with the spirit of truthfulness.

It must therefore be deeply regretted that following the request to exchange any incorrectly issued tickets during the last days of the Munich festival, no member entrusted or charged with managing the Theosophical-Artistic Fund reported on the deficits that were growing larger every year. And if there had been even the slightest suggestion that the reimbursement of ticket prices could be waived in favor of covering the deficit, then practically minded members would certainly have gone so far as to propose that they would rather contribute to covering the previous and also the expected deficit by paying a voluntary contribution.

This would have had two practical advantages:

1. the costs incurred by the events would have been passed on to the participants to a much greater extent – and quite justifiably – and

2. the capital of the financially strong members, who were exceptionally called upon to cover the deficit, would have been reserved for our more extensive endeavors, such as the Johannesbau.

From the above considerations arises

Proposal 3: For future festival or similar events organized by the Theosophical Artistic Fund, an admission fee should be charged that is more appropriate to the value of these events and more commensurate with the costs incurred, if possible based on the previous year's financial statements.

Furthermore, consideration should be given to how, in the future, participants in such events can be made aware of the occurrence of such deficits in a dignified way and be asked to help cover them, although ideally only while they are gathered at the event and are therefore most willing to contribute financially. This will, frankly, cause many a prejudice and other thing against the management at our events to fall away and open many a hand more willingly to further donations in support of our efforts, but above all in favor of the Johannesbau.

Rudolf Schenkel.
In principle, the above motion to increase
entrance fees for the performances is supported by
Christian Schuler, Bertha Hauff, Johanna Hauff, Paul Hauff.

Dr. Steiner: You can now include these motions in the discussion.

Mr. Schuler: The author of the motion is solely responsible for the wording of the two motions. The other signatories have only endorsed them in principle. The contributions alone should create a certain basis. We have had exceptionally low contributions so far. I take the view that the lower the contributions, the lower the efficiency. The dues would surely have to be increased bit by bit. In my experience, the truly needy and poor people are the ones most willing to pay all dues and increases. Regarding the opinion on increasing the dues, I would like to say: Those who can pay three marks can also pay five marks. The individual lodges would have the opportunity to demand higher dues on their own initiative.

Dr. Unger: It was to be expected that Dr. Schuler would present a justification for these Tübingen proposals. These proposals are a serious matter. In the final analysis, it is not a question of payment here; after all, everything is moving towards the same goal. However, it is a different matter when it comes to creating clarity about the conditions that actually exist. It is not that the proposals contain truly strange things, but rather that these things are present due to a misunderstanding of the situation. We must pay particular attention to this at our Annual General Meeting, because such things are likely to cause confusion, which then proliferates again and again. These proposals speak of mistrust arising and so on. Furthermore, these Tübingen proposals show a tremendous confusion of the most diverse things. One should gradually start to distinguish between the Anthroposophical Society, the Theosophical Artistic Fund and the Johannesbau Association. In this proposal, the Theosophical Artistic Fund is placed in a kind of opposition to the Johannesbau Association and the Society itself. It is important to point this out because one should not actually base proposals on ambiguity. The matters of the Theosophical-Artistic Fund have been treated in this application out of complete ignorance of the facts. One really has no right to stick one's nose into such things. The point is that in recent years everyone has felt a sense of deepest gratitude, of deepest respect for all that is behind the Theosophical-Artistic Fund. We would never have had mystery plays today if these plays had been based on any kind of income. This is a pure gift that we accept in the appropriate way. Income and expenses do not and cannot play a role. It is a matter of course that an entrance fee is charged, but this should certainly not give anyone the right to interfere in these matters; we can only look up and accept this gift with the deepest gratitude.

The Johannesbau Association is now endeavoring to create a framework for these mystery plays. So when people talk about the fact that funds are being withdrawn from the Johannesbau through the Theosophical-Artistic Fund, it is a gross distortion. We would not need a Johannesbau if we did not have the Mystery Plays, the gift from the spiritual worlds. It is deeply regrettable that these motions have been tabled with the best of intentions. That is precisely why they are completely unacceptable.

Fräulein von Sivers: I would just like to add to what Dr. Unger said that it is one of the greatest ironies I have experienced in my working life within the Theosophical Society, which has been so rich in experiences, that what is being discussed here in this proposal has become possible. So a gift is made out of the purest, most unselfish motives, a personal, private gift. If two months of the year were not set aside for these performances, given the demands that the members place on Dr. Steiner's time, the mysteries would probably never be written at all. And it would never be possible to put on a performance in this short time if one had to ask society whether a worker could be given 50 pfennigs more or less in tips, or whether an artist could be compensated in this or that way. Anyone who knows just a little about everything that goes into a venture would give up from the outset under such conditions. The project was born out of personal initiative, and it was not even considered to ask society for contributions. How can one speak of a deficit when only expenses are calculated! How could such a low entrance fee even cover the expenses? Out of pure enthusiasm for art, to make possible something that is considered a gift, not only for society but for all humanity, the funds are given.

The Mystery Plays have been enthusiastically received, and a worthy setting had to be created for them. The Johannesbau was created from this idea. So it cannot be said that it is the more enduring. Many of us are convinced that these dramas will live longer than a building made of wood and stone.

Now it has proved expedient for the Theosophical Artistic Fund to provide an address for donations for the building. These will be receipted with the note “Theosophical Artistic Fund for the Johannesbau”. So they have nothing at all to do with the performances and are kept strictly separate from them.

Fräulein Stinde: The Theosophical Artistic Fund was set up so that the mystery plays could be performed and only secondarily for the Johannesbau. Of course, we older members who set up the fund find it easier to understand all this than the younger members. That would be an excuse. But they could still know what it is about. Of course, most people don't appreciate the monetary value of art and performances; they don't realize that when a new play is performed in a theater, the costs amount to 60,000 to 80,000 marks. Thanks to the great willingness of our artists to make sacrifices, we are only able to make such performances possible; it would be impossible if we had to pay our artists. The entrance fee that is charged cannot be counted against the costs.

Mr. Bauer: One more comment! It would be easy to say at first that a good opinion underlies the request, and therefore the rest could be overlooked. But we don't want to cloud the issue ourselves; we have to look at this opinion at its core. It may be well meant, but if we look closely, this good feeling has a heavy shadow. Otherwise this proposal would not be possible, because it could only come about from a bad opinion of others. One does not assume a sense of truthfulness in others. We must also be clear about this; specifically, he presents a good opinion based on mistrust.

Dr. Steiner: My dear friends! We still have a great deal of work to do in the so-called business part of our General Assembly. Now, however, we must allow the time to come when some refreshment must be taken for the less intellectual organs. This point cannot be postponed any longer, because our stomachs would not be able to appear in such a way with the tea that is offered to us here at six o'clock that we would be able to achieve as much as possible. So we will now take a break and meet again here at four o'clock this afternoon to continue our negotiations.

Adjourned at 1:30.

The negotiations adjourned at 1:30 will resume at four o'clock.

Fräulein von Sivers: The many arguments about the financial situation were perhaps quite useful in order to be able to know what the situation is. But since we have to make such strong demands on the willingness of the members of the Johannesbau this year, I hereby make the request that the assembly refrain from increasing the membership fee this year and break off negotiations on this point.

The proposal is adopted.

Mr. Walther: I propose that we also not enter into negotiations on the two Tübingen proposals, but rather assign them to the Executive Council of the Anthroposophical Society for resolution.

Mr. Schuler: I have no objection to this, but I would like to emphasize that these are not “Tübingen proposals”. The proponent is responsible for the proposals. The others have only agreed to the increase in contributions.

Dr. Steiner: The term “Tübingen motions” was not intended to refer to the Tübingen working group; it was meant only geographically, just so that the motions came from the city of Tübingen.

The proposal is accepted.

Dr. Steiner: We now come to the proposal of our auditor, Mr. Tessmar, to grant discharge to the treasurer and cashier.

The assembly grants this discharge.

Dr. Steiner: It will be necessary to deal with the Boldt proposal as the next proposal. I am obliged to present this Boldt proposal and to provide a little background information so that we are able to discuss this proposal in a reasonably objective manner.

Mr. Ernst Boldt, a member of the Munich I working group, wrote a paper in 1911 that was published by Max Altmann in Leipzig at the time: “Sexual Problems in the Light of Natural and Spiritual Science”. I would like to explain Mr. Boldt's intentions with a few words from the brochure that was sent out by the publishing house at the time and from which I will read a few passages:

This book stands out from the abundance of modern sex literature in a unique and purposeful way. It occupies a special position in that it seeks to establish the scientific basis and framework of an independent philosophy of sex and thus to open up new perspectives on life, independently of contemporary research. The inadequacy of the relevant literature, which mostly only gropes around the outside and surface of these problems and not infrequently speculates on the hidden lustfulness of the reader, prompted the creation of this thoroughly honest and solemnly written book. It can therefore lay claim to attention in the widest circles, because it offers the thinking person, who must be highly dissatisfied by the common vituperation of this topic, a wealth of new perspectives and rich thought content.

This is indeed a new publication that will, over time, provide the most important impetus and will truly break new ground for all sexual research. It is a fundamental work of sexual philosophy that literature has yet to match.

The author initially bases his ideas on the results of modern science, but in order to do full justice to his subject, he finds it necessary to supplement and deepen these with the little-known and much-misunderstood extrasensory or occult findings of spiritual or secret science (theosophy). Despite his spiritual research methods, Boldt agrees with the monists insofar as they remain on the firm ground of true science and do not stray into the barren swamps of materialism through vague hypotheses; but he turns with implacable severity against the dualists and their culturally backward tendencies. The author himself stands beyond monism and dualism, since both mean only stages of human knowledge to him. Seen from a higher vantage point and illuminated by the light of spiritual research, 'the world reveals itself in a completely new form. And the author had to base his explanations on this in order to enable a real solution to such profound problems.

Boldt has a calm and confident command of his subject and thus does justice to a great task. In seven concise treatises, he reveals the deepest mysteries of the past, present and future of human nature in terms of sexuality. It is precisely these broad views of the past and the future that sharpen the eye tremendously for the present state of things. Certainty about the “where from” and “where to,” which has always been the greatest concern of the deeper thinker, also sheds light on the “why,” allowing people to most clearly recognize their most pressing tasks. In this

sense, Boldt gets to the root of the problems. The simple and clear style facilitates understanding of the complicated, occult facts, which have so far remained inaccessible to both the layman and the academic, and which are presented and explained in the strangest of images. Although the reader must initially accept these “facts” without question, the explanations that Boldt bases on them meet the requirements of a self-contained, strictly logical thought process that can withstand any criticism. The author provides more detailed information about the sources from which the occult ideas in his book are drawn in the introduction and in a corresponding appendix.

The book is of equal interest to men and women, scholars and laymen.

This is what is known in the book trade as a “blurb”, which is always added to books when they are first published. I don't know who wrote this particular blurb; sometimes authors write their own. But I don't want to claim that in this case, I just want to mention a very common usage in this instance, because not all of our members are informed about the practices of book distribution.

If I were to tell the story of how I came to write this book, which culminates in my arguments, I would have to keep you waiting a very long time. I don't want to do that, but I would like to mention that Mr. Ernst Boldt originally intended to cover this subject, which was then condensed into his 1911 book of 148 pages, in a great many volumes. Then various things led him to make this short extract from his so-called “research”. I may well admit that long before this book was written, Mr. Boldt's various views and pretensions were brought to my attention by Mr. Boldt himself, according to various practices existing in our society, and that I was not in a position to Mr. Boldt made to me at the time – with the exception of the obvious, which is to tell a younger man: He should move in this or that direction in the field of thought so that he can move forward and also to give this or that piece of advice that you yourself consider good. Then, after this advice had been given, Mr. Boldt came to write this book. He also wrote me a letter of many pages, while the book was actually already in print. I am really not always able to respond to all such requests and to deal with all the details of what is in the literary intentions of our members. I also think it better if someone has the pretension to appear scientifically literary that he proves less in need of support in such a case. Now the book was published. Mr. Boldt had the obvious requirement that not only our various Theosophical working groups should display the brochure for this book – I have read it out so that you can judge it – in the lodge rooms in order to do their part for this book, but he also had the requirement, which is evident from his current behavior, that I should recommend the book in our circles; indeed, even assumes that the various measures or lack of measures that he criticized so sharply can be traced back to the fact that I did not recommend this book, and that I—despite Mr. Boldt's statement that I personally often asked how things were going with his book—never gave any information other than one that was “neither warm nor cold” when he asked me about it. You can understand that an author may easily feel that a piece of information is neither warm nor cold to him if it is not given to him exactly as he had imagined it. But not only did I have reasons not to deviate from a judgment that is “neither warm nor cold,” but I also had my good reasons, which I did not conceal from Mr. Boldt, in a gentle way, not to recommend the book. There will be more to say about some of this later, so I will mention the main reason I gave to Mr. Boldt first. I told him, roughly, that the book still has a very immature, amateurish character, and that this is especially evident from the fact that the whole execution is such that you can't do anything with it if you really want to get involved with the subject. Despite the cover, which says that it is a new publication that will change the whole of sex research over time, the book is actually such that, in my humble opinion, no one, even if they are responsive to the issues at hand, can really learn much from it.

There would have been only one reason – I don't know if anyone of those who know me better could see this as a reason for me in this case – to recommend this book: it contains many praiseworthy and laudatory things about myself. But that is no reason for me to recommend the book just because Mr. Boldt praises me. And I must confess that I would have preferred it if what I have endeavored to produce over decades in various fields of knowledge had not been presented in such a way in a book. The fact that someone pays all kinds of adulation that refers to me will never be a reason for me to give a special recommendation about anything; the only reason for this can be the quality of the performance.

So I did something for which, in addition to all the reasons I have given, there was another reason that could perhaps be appreciated: that it is my right to remain silent about something! I don't know if anyone doubts that I am entitled to do so? If one were to doubt that I am entitled to remain silent about anything, I would have to regard that as the worst kind of tyranny. If someone, as in this case, comes to me with the assumption that I am obliged to recommend this or that and would be acting incorrectly if I did not do so, I would have to regard that as the harshest and most terrible imposition that can possibly be placed on a human being. For I would like to know what would become of the freedom of mankind if a society were founded in which the person to whom some people adhere is obliged to recommend a book or other article by a member? You can imagine the tyranny that could result. So it happened that I could not give such a recommendation. I could give you many reasons for this; perhaps that could be done in the course of the negotiations. But our friends – perhaps with the exception of the 25 percent to which Mr. Boldt refers – did not particularly enjoy this work either. So it was left out of consideration. The great “injustice” has been done: this book has been ignored, let us say, has not been bought! My friends! In the past few days, a large number of us have received a brochure that now reads as follows:

Please pass this on!
Munich, January 1914.

Dear Members of the Anthroposophical Society! The undersigned respectfully takes the liberty of personally informing the esteemed members of his recently self-published work “Theosophy or Anti-Theosophy? - A Free Word to Free Theosophists”. In it, the author seeks, in the interest of our great cause, to shed light on various abuses within our circles and to bring them up for discussion at the upcoming second general assembly. The writing is of an intimate nature and therefore cannot be published by a bookshop. It is “printed as a manuscript” and is addressed exclusively to the members of the Anthroposophical Society, for whom this topic is likely to be of particular interest.

With theosophical greetings
Ernst Boldt, Munich, Adelheidstraße 15/111

Then, at the bottom, is the order form. A few days after the brochure appeared, I received the pamphlet “Theosophy or Antisophy? — A Free Word to Free Theosophists” from Ernst Boldt. The brochure contains the following words:

The writing is of an intimate nature and therefore cannot appear in bookstores. It is “printed as a manuscript” and is addressed exclusively to the members of the Anthroposophical Society, for whom this topic is likely to be of particular interest.

In the “preliminary remarks” of the brochure, I immediately read the words:

The following observations are taken from the manuscript of a larger work in the process of being written. They formed the first introductory chapter. However, since the completion and publication of this extensive work may be delayed for years due to the unfavorable economic and health conditions of the author, it seemed advisable to publish these observations now as an independent work, initially within our circles. Whether these remarks will be taken up in the Anthroposophical Society or not will determine whether they should later be included in the work intended for the general public, which has been temporarily set aside by this announcement.

So, it is said, if the members are well-behaved and accommodating, it will be refrained from being carried out to the wider public; but if the members do not behave well, this printed “manuscript” may perhaps be presented to the wider public after all. However, it is very strange that this was only learned after the booklet had been purchased. I did not buy it, because it was sent to me for free. This booklet – which is not to be read out because it is not desired – contains many accusations against the backwardness and ignorance of the members of our “Anthroposophical Society”, who, in their developmental naivety, ignore such things that address the most important problems of the present.

My dear friends, had the whole matter come to me before the program of our present General Assembly was sent out, I would have had – not exactly because of Boldt's proposal, which has more symptomatic significance, but for other reasons that could arise from the negotiations - I would have had reason enough not to give the four lectures announced, “The Human and the Cosmic Idea”, and instead to speak about the inferiority of some scientific work in the present day. For there is much that can be said about the subject that is called “sexology and related subjects”, which could one day provide an opportunity to say a few necessary words to those who hold many dubious views on this point at the present time, not to say it to our members, but so that our members can counter many of the corresponding pretensions in the present day by advancing the thought processes presented through their own research.

In the brochure “Theosophy or Antisophy?” the author relies heavily on Nietzsche as a fighter against ascetic ideals, and Mr. Boldt finds that he needs to tell our members the truth quite bluntly. On page 28, he writes:

It is entirely in the interest of keeping the Christian-Theosophical blood of life pure when we seriously warn against its parasites.

However, Mr. Boldt does not look for these “parasites” among the 25 percent who are in favor of him, but among the other 75 percent.

However “occult” they may behave, these “believers” are nothing more than a lively swarm, a lot of love, a lot of folly, a lot of non-bearded worship... anyone who knows the fleeting, cowardly human race should not believe in these springtimes and colorful meadows!

Woe betide if these half-wits spoil everything here too – there is no lack of tendency in that regard! For the intellectual posing as a Theosophist, to whom Theosophy means little more than a fashion, a kind of sport, is undoubtedly more dangerous to the anthroposophical movement than the monist who is disappointed in Theosophy. If the yearning flirtation with ascetic ideals, which is already “good form” in Theosophical circles, also becomes dogma and an epidemic, then we can no longer refrain from exclaiming indignantly with Nietzsche: “All our ‘reverence for the ascetic ideal, provided it is honest!’ But we may 'all these coquettish...

here the printer was probably unaware that he should have used a z instead of a g; for Nietzsche writes “Wanzen” and not “Wangen”, and since I do not believe that Mr. Boldt wanted to speak of the “flirtatious cheeks” of our members, I assume that the printer stumbled here.

... cheeks whose insatiable ambition is to smell of the infinite, until the infinite smells of bugs.

One cannot demand that the members of the Anthroposophical Society always be treated politely; nor can it be said that the least has been done here to be reasonably polite. There is not much politeness in the other sentence either:

In the interest of the great cause, which seems to me to be endangered by this behavior, I long for the day when Dr. Steiner will say with Nietzsche's Zarathustra: “Let them go and fall... and do not complain! Better still blow with rustling winds among them, - blow among these leaves,... that all that is withered may flee from you even faster!

(“On the Renegades.”)

So much for the tenor of how – and I am addressing the other 75 percent – you are addressed yourself. I myself am addressed in a peculiar way. If I put before me the figure in which I appear, then allow me to characterize it with an expression that is perhaps better understood in Berlin and the surrounding area than in the circles further outside this narrower country – that I say: the person who appears under the name “Dr. Steiner” seems to me like a “Konzessions-Schulze in the disguise of a superman”. That is more or less how I must appear after what I am portrayed as in this book. I don't know how widely this expression will be understood; but members who live further away and don't understand it can ask their friends in Berlin what a “Konzessions-Schulze in the disguise of a superman” is. Among other things, it is said that I have a right to do everything I do, but that because I have to make a pact with the 75 percent of the backward ones - those who are supposed to run away and who will contribute to the fact that infinity will one day smell of bugs - I am forced to say what my true opinion is. What I should actually have said about Mr. Boldt's book, I don't know; but in any case, I am the one who wears masks and has to rely not on telling the truth, but on saying what is pleasant for his 75 percent followers. So I appear in a very peculiar light:

I repeat: a philosopher as a great educator may and must be reserved with his true thoughts and judgments; he has the right and the duty to use masks and gestures. But should there not be a limit that must not be exceeded? The logical fictions and false judgments, which are undoubtedly necessary and fruitful for the theosophical movement in a certain initial phase of development, must have a hindering and paralyzing effect as soon as this development enters a second, higher phase. In other words, if these fictions and false judgments are part of the conditions of the former group and current, they must be felt by the second as a paralyzing poison.

Then it is said that it would indeed be necessary to gradually change tack, with the following words:

But in The Will to Power there is also an essay (980) that sheds even more light on this subject and can be applied to Dr. Steiner's powerful personality: “Let us imagine a philosopher as a great educator, powerful enough to draw long chains of generations up to him from a lonely height, then we must also grant him the uncanny prerogatives of the great educator. A great educator never says what he himself thinks, but only what he thinks about a matter in relation to the benefit of the person he is educating (and wants to be thought about it, I might add). In this pretense, he must not be guessed at; it is part of his mastery that one believes in his honesty. He must be capable of all means of discipline and punishment: he can only bring some natures forward by lashes of the whip of scorn, others, the indolent, the indecisive, the cowardly, the vain, perhaps with exaggerated praise. Such an educator is beyond good and evil; but no one must know it.

It's strange: what you have had to experience over the years! I must say: I do not want to expand the term “concessionary school in the disguise of the superman” any further, but only state a few things about how the 75 percent of the members who do not belong to Mr. Boldt are treated, and how I myself am treated, so that you may know a few things even if you have not been prompted by the brochure to read it. The brochure was sent to me together with the following letter:

Munich, January 9, 1914,br> Adelheidstraße 15/III

Dear Dr.

Since summer 1911, I have repeatedly asked you for a factual statement about my book (“Sexual Problems in the Light of Natural Science and the Science of the Spirit”), which was published at the time. Since you have given me only inadequate, contradictory, evasive and confusing answers to my private questions and have repeatedly promised me “critical marginal notes” on my book but have repeatedly promised me, I saw myself compelled, for reasons of spiritual and intellectual self-preservation, to deal with this embarrassing and distressing subject in a pamphlet (“Theosophy or Anti-Theosophy? - A Free Word to Free Theosophists”) and to submit it to you as my contribution to the second General Assembly, with the urgent request that you take a stand on it in the next few days. I have announced the publication of my writing by sending 2,500 brochures to all branches of the Anthroposophical Society and have already sent out a number of copies; I may therefore assume that the content of the brochure is known at the General Assembly. Although the dam of cold objectivity may be breached here and there by the stream of feelings in my remarks, I know that you will have to call me to order strictly for this, but I would still ask you to always separate the factual content from the jagged form and not to give the latter too much weight. In any case, I ask for leniency as far as the form is concerned; not everything is meant as badly as it may appear in the rigid print on paper. I have not named any personalities and certainly did not want to offend anyone. It is in itself quite unimportant who said this or that, but the fact that it was said is what I could not get over. Should anyone feel offended, however, well, he may justify himself as best he can, or apologize and regret his behavior. I will certainly not be unreceptive to it. Whoever knows how much I have suffered from these things over these years will understand that I could not remain silent any longer. And you, dear Doctor, should know first that it was only pain that guided my pen. If freedom and independence, truth and truthfulness are not to remain empty phrases or abstractions in our circles, then these words, wherever they take on concrete life, must also be respected and duly appreciated; otherwise, the same applies to us as to what Lykophron of Phrygius says (pages 24-25): “You are all shadows without life, larvae without will” and so on. But we want to be free men indeed, over whom the sun of Christ can rejoice. I still remember exactly your wonderful words in Düsseldorf (1909) about the praise of the ability to make “first judgments”. At the time, you lamented finding this ability so undeveloped in our circles, where you would so much like to encounter it. Well, I did not wait to be shown the way to take a step – I did not need to be seduced or goaded – I had the strength, the courage and the good conscience for my “first judgment”! – I hope it is not misunderstood and held against me as a crime – I passed it with the best of intentions.

Since it is financially and physically impossible for me to come to Berlin myself, I kindly request that this letter be read at the general assembly.

With deepest admiration yours, Ernst Boldt.

In the last few days, the explicit request has been made to discuss this letter first and to add the following:

Munich, January 15, 1914.
To the General Assembly of the Anthroposophical Society, Berlin.

Dear Doctor!

As was to be expected, my brochure has caused a storm to rage against me, especially here in Munich. This is also expected to continue in Berlin at the upcoming general assembly. Since it is unfortunately not possible for me to attend the meeting for the reasons mentioned, and to defend myself against any attacks and distortions of my intentions, I would like to kindly ask you, dear Doctor, to read this written material yourself in the order given, or to have it read.

The evening before yesterday, Director Sellin delivered to me the order of our lodge board to declare my resignation from the local lodge I, otherwise I would have to consider myself already excluded. From this I may well conclude that our board feels offended by my pamphlet. It is therefore to be assumed that he will speak in his defense at the general assembly, and in the sense in which he has already spoken here. He has claimed that I have besmirched him and a number of members from top to bottom with dirt, that I have severely insulted Dr. Steiner and accused him of moral cowardice, as reported to me by Director Sellin, who also made these claims.

I must protest in the strongest possible terms against this understandable but nevertheless outrageous distortion of the facts, against these objective untruths. It is not true that I threw mud at the ladies; I only pointed out facts in strong words and castigated the excesses that will have to get out of hand if we do not work energetically against them in time. In saying this, I was only expressing the convictions of about 25 percent of our members; if they now also have the courage to openly stand up for their convictions, this would certainly be in the interest of our great cause. It is also untrue that I severely insulted Dr. Steiner and accused him of moral cowardice. Only very superficial thinking, unacquainted with deeper psychology, can make such unfounded assertions. Those who are sensitive to nuances and have eyes for true greatness of mind and character will have to admit that this serious accusation does not apply to me in any way; rather, I have fully and completely done justice to the great mind and character of this superhuman personality, who, for his extraordinary purposes and goals, must also make use of extraordinary means and methods. Even if at one point, on pages 25-26, I asked for clarification regarding some points that had long weighed heavily on me, I believe that this is my good human and intellectual right.

On pages 25-26 of the brochure, the words can be read:

My question pains me deeply, but it must nevertheless be asked: Does Dr. Steiner do the “in the field of theosophy working”, who have not only made the cultivation and dissemination of the existing treasure of extrasensory knowledge their mission, but also “wherever it can be, observe where life needs and can experience a deepening by the theosophical way of thinking' - does Dr. Steiner not do them an injustice when he ignores their honest striving, apparently as a result of their compromising with backward groups and currents, as inadequate or inadmissible? And further I ask: Theosophy, which disregards every possibility of “making the highest realizations fruitful for the most everyday things of life”, as certain circles have proved by their behavior, does not lead in the best way “to things to which it should least lead to: the formation of sects, narrow-minded dogmatics and so on, which leads to a theosophical priesthood and sisterhood, which I already warned against so energetically in Düsseldorf, because I saw it coming for sure? Dr. Steiner, forgive me for asking this last question: If he is inclined to preserve the Theosophical Society in its primitive, initial stage by suppressing efforts of my kind, then he seems to me to be cutting off the lifeblood of this movement in its progressive impulses and thus falling into an unfathomable contradiction with himself.

Should the anthroposophical movement ever need a Luther in the future, which is likely, he can refer to me as his modest forerunner, who is willing to be fried for his convictions, mindful of the words: “Here I stand - I cannot do otherwise - God help me - Amen!”

That is there, as required by “good human and intellectual law.” I continue to read the letter to you:

Not everything is immediately clear and transparent to me, because I am not concerned with mere allegiance, which is certainly very cheap. As we know from him, Dr. Steiner has to defend himself against the blind adoration of these followers, as if they were astral clouds that block his work. I don't want any part in the formation of these astral clouds, I don't have the talent for that. I have no doubt that Dr. Steiner does not feel at all offended or accused of moral cowardice by my profound remarks. I am also convinced that Dr. Steiner will take the serious questions and honest striving of an independent thinker seriously again. Those who, like me, strive to understand rather than to admire, will best protect themselves against desertion and subsequent opposition. After all, “we should not show external reverence and admiration for our teachers, but we should strive for their understanding.” (Messages No. X, p. 3.)

This “aspiration” is quoted from the messages no. X, page 3, where the sentence is: “We want to be praised less, but understood more diligently.” - Now Mr. Boldt continues:

And that is the great crime of which I am accused by the blind admirers and admirers. “O sancta simplicitas!” - If only the Theosophists would take their Theosophy more seriously, they would not have so much time to admire and criticize, and would not compromise themselves so embarrassingly with their accusations...

Anyone who was present at the cycle in Düsseldorf in 1909 will know that it was Dr. Steiner himself who drew my attention to this $4 in Nietzsche's “Beyond Good and Evil,” with the words: ” The questioner (who was none other than me) once quoted 2sche; now, he should also be familiar with $4 in Beyond Good and Evil, where Nietzsche posits the sentence: “The falsity of a judgment...” and so on. This just needs to be understood correctly, and the questioner will understand me if he understands Nietzsche. This sentence also applies to the theosophical movement: if it is to be fruitful in a certain sense, then it does not depend on the pure truth, but... and so on, as I have reproduced almost literally on p. 16 of my writing.

There are the words that a great educator can tie up anything to people if they only believe in his honesty.

Well, I have understood Nietzsche and through him Dr. Steiner better than my indignant accusers. If they want to make up for what they have neglected and work their way to a deeper understanding of their great teacher, then they will also have to acquit me of the offence of which they now accuse me. So much for now in this point for my justification.

Furthermore, I am accused of vindictiveness due to hurt vanity as a writer because the ladies did not do any propaganda for my book. I understand this argument perfectly in view of the mentality of my judges; but nevertheless I must acquit myself of this accusation in every sense. I therefore expressly repeat that I have a completely impersonal interest in these conditions and processes. When I wrote my brochure, I was well aware that the personal impact and the sharpness of my speech would make it easy for my opponents to twist it into a rope. And yet I could not bring myself to change my mind; after all, I am addressing my writing only to free and insightful Theosophists, and I expect them to be able to distinguish between the factual content of my writing and its sharp form. In this sense, the board of a larger lodge wrote to me today, whom I do not know personally, but who addresses me in the name of his lodge or in the name of the few free and insightful: “Our dear Mr. Boldt”: “Your brochure is a painful call! But the good in it will be drowned out by the reproach that will be made to you by those who think they are “chosen”: that the non-acceptance of your book is to blame!” - This, however, was the starting point of my considerations; as such and in itself it is quite unessential and accidental. Only the conditions and events that attached themselves to it as an independent event were essential and necessary. Just as I do not feel personally attacked and hurt by this rejection, so it is not my intention to attack or hurt anyone personally, which is also criticized, and to which I can only reply with Nietzsche: “I never attack people; I only use the person as a kind of powerful magnifying glass with which one can make visible a general, but insidious, and hardly comprehensible state of emergency.” – (“Ecce homo” 1.7.) So much in general; in particular, I have the following to add. After I sent out the brochures, I was asked in writing in the most amiable way by our board to pin them up in the hallway and put them on the library table or distribute them to the members at the door themselves. Nothing else could be arranged without favoritism. I then enclosed the following lines with my brochure mailing:

Munich, January 10, 1914.

Dear Countess, dear Miss Stinde!

I was pleasantly touched by your willingness to help with the publication of my last brochure. I was actually quite surprised, all the more so because I still had feelings about you that you had caused about 2.5 years ago with the brusque way in which you responded to my request to announce the first brochure. While you have given me enough time to think about the step I have now taken, you have done nothing to make up for what you neglected to do, nor to apologize for it. If you had shown me even half as much kindness back then, this brochure, dictated by pain, could have remained unwritten. I deeply regret that it had to be written, but I also hope that it will not be without effect. This in response to your kind words. More details about this matter will be discussed at the upcoming general assembly in Berlin.

Kind regards, sincerely, Ernst Boldt.

In response to this, I received the following letter, which I can share here without incurring the accusation of indiscretion, due to its factual content:

Munich, January 11, 1914.

Dear Mr. Boldt!

Even before I can read your brochure, I would like to answer your card, which arrived earlier, to avoid any misunderstandings. According to this, you are surprised that we are accommodating you regarding the announcement of your last brochure, while we had to refuse to announce your first brochure. Perhaps you missed a lodge evening about 18 months ago, when we announced the following. We said then that it had always been our custom not to publicize any programs for works or lessons or other matters of our members in the lodge, that we had never hung any programs or brochures or the like in the library or in the hallway because it could have opened the floodgates to all manner of extolling of the work, leading many of our members to believe that we or even Dr. Steiner endorsed it. (Unfortunately, we have had more than enough experiences of this kind.) We were then asked by another lodge to provide the addresses of our members so that they could send a brochure. However, since we consider giving out our members' addresses to be an indiscretion, but still wanted to accommodate our friendly lodge, we decided, albeit very reluctantly, to display these brochures in the library and to pin them up in the hallway, thereby overturning an old principle and now also allowing all our members to display their programs and brochures in the library or pin them up in the hallway. Since then, our members have made much use of this permission, as they must have noticed, right? So displaying your brochure was not a concession on our part, but simply the result of the decision made by the lodge's board at the time. This from the board. – Personally, I would add that for me, there is no reason to apologize to you and I would not want to go back to that tone and manner. If you had donated your work to the library with an inscription stating that it was given by the author, as other writers do, that would have been the best way for the members to have read the book and commented on it.

Yours sincerely,
Countess Pauline Kalckreuth.

I am enclosing my response to this letter (copy) with the urgent request that it be read at the general assembly. It touches on a topic that urgently needs to be discussed in the interest of our cause and complements the content of my brochure. This letter was not read here on the last evening of the lodge, and I had to take the severe attacks by Director Sellin upon myself without being able to refute them or defend myself because I had already been expelled from the lodge. Therefore, I ask once again, politely but urgently, that this letter also be made known.

Finally, I would like to repeat my request for leniency regarding the harshness of my writing, which I condemn in a sense myself. After all, it has helped to hit the nail on the head and provide an unambiguous description of the hardships and events discussed. But let uncompromising severity and objectivity prevail as regards the content of my writing. Here I claim no mercy, no compassion; here I want to find an incorruptible judge. Should my expulsion from the Anthroposophical Society really be necessary in the interest of our cause, then I will submit to it, for I do not wish to serve myself but the cause, and in this case I am happy to sacrifice myself for the benefit of your great work. That is, after all, the fate of the firstlings. At least I will have the satisfaction of having set the ball rolling and thus achieved what I set out to do. May I be judged on the basis of my sharp polemics – after me there will come someone who will say the same thing and much more in terms of content, but who will not take a personal starting point for doing so and will avoid all polemics on principle. I would like to have broken the ice for him and paved the way – and this too is entirely in the interest of our great and lofty cause.

I remain in the most sincere veneration and unchanging loyalty,

Yours sincerely, Ernst Boldt

Munich, January 14, 1914.

To the board of the Munich branch of the Anthroposophical Society

Frau Gräfin Pauline von Kalckreuth Munich.

Dear Countess!

Please allow me to offer a few thoughts in response to your esteemed letter of the 11th of this month. Based on this, it could appear as though you are entirely in the right and I, beset by error, have taken hasty action. To superficial thought and appearances, this seems obvious. On the basis of deeper reflection, however, this is not the case at all, as I will show.

I knew very well that some time after my first prospecting affair, such a decree was announced in the lodge, and I also noticed the application of this new decree. But I also knew that this break with the old principle was not a free, insightful act of our board. You yourself admit that you were only “very reluctant” to decide to overturn this old principle. Ideologically, in spirit, you still represent this backward principle today, and that is the crucial point – formally, outwardly, you had to break with it because the spirit of freedom and progress cannot be kept in chains in the long run. As everywhere, and at all times, it had to enforce its just rights here too, since it is never voluntarily granted.

At the time, I complained to various quarters about this restrictive principle, which is unworthy of the free spirit of our movement, and this will not have remained without effect. I knew very well that nothing more should stand in the way of the publication of this second brochure, since the same rights apply to everyone. I was only extremely gratified and surprised by your kind offer, without my having asked for permission to distribute the brochure in the lodge, because I had no intention of making use of this favor this time, since I had already sent about 300 brochures to about 50 addresses of our Munich members. I therefore expressly repeat: it was not the permission to distribute my brochure that I addressed as an unexpected concession, but only the unsolicited willingness, the kind invitation to do so, which should be very understandable. This on my part to avoid any misunderstandings.

To stay with the matter at hand, I would like to briefly discuss why I called the old principle, which you only “very reluctantly” overthrew, backward and incompatible with the free spirit of our movement. First, a preliminary question: Don't you have any sense that there is something hurtful for these members in the assumption that our members could make the “most conceivable recommendations” to us in the lodge? But let us assume that not everything that is announced is theosophically tenable; how can we develop our independence and judgment if the executive committee anxiously withholds from us everything that could help us to develop our ability to make “first judgments”; if, in other words, we are so carefully patronized. Eating alone makes you fat, thinking alone strengthens the mind. I am reminded of the unrefined way in which we were recently patronized in the case of Fidus, the lecture. An approach that caused widespread outrage - but, as so often, many fists remained in their pockets. As adults, members should be left to form their own opinions about the things that come up to them. If they are not considered capable of it, “then away with all hypocrisy of freedom and independence. Just say: the Theosophists have to wait ‘to take a step that you can ’show them the way and so on. (Based loosely on Steiner: ‘Philosophy of Freedom’, pp. 155-156, and Schur &: ‘The Children of Lucifer’, pp. 24-25).

Returning to your letter, I would like to continue. Regarding the tone and nature of your rejection at the time, to which you do not wish to go back, I maintain my view that you, as the board, were at fault on this point and should therefore have apologized to me. I would like to remind you of the inappropriate phrases you used at the time: “I cannot possibly mention such a dirty subject in the lodge” and “We do not do any propaganda for theosophical books in the lodge”. These are two objective untruths; firstly, the area of procreation and reproduction, the area of human sexuality, is neither dirty nor clean in itself; it is a neutral area of nature that we simply have to take into account in the interest of our racial and spiritual development. As a lodge executive committee, you should be clear about this. Perhaps you could find out about the nature of this area from Dr. Steiner: “Lucifer-Gnosis, first edition, issue 23, page 345, where it says, among other things: ”In fact, noble divine powers are at work in this (dirty?) area, regulating and organizing... Refinement... but not destruction... of this whole area... is what occult science teaches,” and what I too have taught and advocated in my book in a way that cannot be misunderstood. According to Dr. Steiner, their tendency to regard this area as ‘dirty’ can ”only be the result of occult principles that have been misunderstood and distorted into misleading asceticism.

From this explanation it follows that my book cannot be un-Theosophical, which any unbiased reader will confirm. Since you have not corrected these two prejudices to date, I must assume that you still hold this untenable point of view for a lodge board, which makes me feel offended and insulted in my Theosophical honor. Formally, everything would have been fine if you had simply informed me objectively about your lodge principle, which was still unknown to me at the time, but not in such a harsh, insulting way, without having read my work. I make this accusation not to you personally, but to you in your capacity as a lodge board member, as a member.

I find your belated suggestion that I should have donated my book to the library to be bluntly naive. You can't seriously be trying to persuade me that the library would have accepted my book – and even if it had, that it would then have been lent to members. If such “dirty behavior” could not be mentioned in the lodge, then it could not have found a place in the Theosophical library either. This in response to your error-correcting lines.

Director Sellin discharged his duties to me yesterday evening. In response, I have to say that I am not inclined to resign from the lodge, for the reason already stated in my brochure, because I do not want to voluntarily deprive myself of Dr. Steiner's great wisdom, because I can no longer do without it. But should my expulsion be demanded, I must resign myself to it.

I request that this letter be read at the lodge this evening, but I leave it entirely to your discretion. Had I not already been denied entry, I would have read it myself, since it is not personal but entirely factual.

Yours sincerely, Ernst Boldt.

Munich, January 20, 1914.
To the General Assembly of the Anthroposophical Society, Berlin.

Dear Dr. Steiner!

Please be so kind as to also communicate the enclosed lines to the General Assembly. I have received another letter, but I do not yet know whether I am allowed to make use of it.

With the highest regard,
Yours truly, Ernst Boldt.

Munich, January 19, 1914.

Dear Mr. Boldt!

We read your brochure with great interest. We fully support your endeavors, all the more so since we had already read your book “Sexual Problems” with great benefit.

With best regards,
Karl Pschorn, Hedwig Pschorn, Emmy Zormaier, Heinrich Perri,
Deisenhofenerstr. 8/0.

My reply:

Munich, January 19, 1914.

Dear Mr. Pschorn,

Thank you for your kind words. I am pleased about them in the interest of our good cause. I have already received a letter of appreciation from the board of a larger lodge. Please let me know immediately whether I can present your letter to the General Assembly in Berlin if necessary and whether you and the other three want to stand up for your convictions there with your names. Only recently I had to experience a severe disappointment with a theosophist who reserves the right to put me in the dock because I had included in the brochure his opinion, which he had communicated to me in a letter, about my “sexual problems”. According to this, there are theosophists who have two opinions about a matter, one private and one public. Such experiences could seriously displease one about belonging to this society.

Yours sincerely,
Ernst Boldt.

The reply to this letter is:

Mr. Ernst Boldt, Munich,
Adelheidstraße 15/111.

Of course agreed.

On behalf of:
Pschorn.

In addition, Ms. von Sivers will read a letter from Mr. Horst von Henning, because Mr. Horst von Henning is mentioned in the brochure “Theosophy or Antisophy?” in a special way that may be considered symptomatic. It says on page 10:

Mr. Horst von Henning writes to me: “The reading of your writing interested me all the more to a high degree, since I am one of the oldest students of Dr. Steiner and head of the local (Weimar) branch of the Anthroposophical Society: I will remain concerned about doing my part to spread your book in serious circles.

Fräulein von Sivers: Mr. Horst von Henning writes regarding the Boldt affair:

Weimar, January 13, 1914.
Luisenstraße 19.

Dear Fräulein von Sivers!

You have so often kindly represented the members of our small Weimar branch at the general Meetings that I would like to ask you to do so at the upcoming General Meeting as well. Please find enclosed the relevant power of attorney.

Furthermore, however, I would like to address a personal request to you, as unfortunately I have to refrain from coming to the general assembly myself for financial reasons and therefore have no opportunity to counter any misunderstandings that may arise with regard to myself in the event of a discussion of the recently published brochure by Mr. Ernst Boldt, Munich.

Some time ago, Pastor Wendt here gave me a writing by Mr. Boldt about “Sexual Problems in the Light of Natural and Spiritual Science” to read, which interested me all the more because the author professed to be a follower of Dr. Steiner and also let it be seen in the brochure that he believed he could base his views on Dr. Steiner's teachings or bring them into line with them. Even after studying the paper, I couldn't shake the impression that Mr. Boldt was stretching this assumption a bit far and I didn't want to identify with Mr. Boldt's views at all. However, the paper encouraged me to pursue the problems developed in it, which is why I turned to Mr. Boldt with the request to help me with the further material mentioned in his writing and to tell me where to find the relevant literature.

Under the impression of the writing, which, as already mentioned, I could not approve of in all its parts and up to the conclusions drawn in it, but which interested me in some respects and took me for the author because of the frank language, I gained the impression that the problems raised in it could well be discussed by serious anthroposophists at some point, which is why I wrote to Mr. Boldt: “The reading of your writing interested me all the more, as I am one of the (I believe I said) older students of Dr. Steiner and lead the local branch of the Anthroposophical Society. I will do my part to spread the word about your book in serious circles.”

I then received a letter from Mr. Boldt, from which I gained the impression that he had interpreted my words more in his favor than I had intended, and that I was dealing with a personally annoyed man. I therefore refrained from any further correspondence with him and also refrained from recommending his writing, since I had second thoughts, despite all the recognition of the good intentions, it does not provide a suitable basis for the proper discussion of this extremely difficult problem. But now, a few days ago, I received several copies of the following announcement of another of Mr. Boldt's writings, which I had sent to me in order to be informed about everything, but otherwise refrained from further promoting the writing. I only mentioned it to Pastor Wendt, who had lent me Mr. Boldt's first writing at the time.

How great was my surprise and astonishment to see the above-mentioned sentence from my letter to Mr. Boldt reproduced on page 10. Although I now have the honor of being mentioned alongside the highly esteemed gentlemen Edouard Schuré, Ludwig Deinhard and Friedrich Lienhard, I believe that these gentlemen, like myself, will not be pleased to be named in the brochure as Mr. Boldt's supporters, so to speak. In any case, I will make it clear to Mr. Boldt that I consider it to be a lack of tact to have published parts of my private letter without my prior knowledge. The entire content of the new brochure is now such that I must strongly object to being associated with it in any way. I suspect, and not without good reason, that when Messrs Schure, Deinhard and Lienhard wrote approvingly about Mr Boldt's first book, they only wanted to make it known to me that they found it commendable to discuss the sexual problem in connection with our movement, they will certainly also reject the conclusions drawn by Mr. Boldt and, in particular, strongly condemn the recent attempt to force Dr. Steiner to make a public statement. It is unfortunately often the case that writers confuse the interest shown in their work with full approval of their statements, and I would never have revealed my personal relationship with Dr. Steiner to Mr. Boldt if I had suspected that he would make such an unpleasant use of it – or rather, misuse it. In any case, this unpleasant incident will serve as a warning to me and cause me to exercise the utmost restraint in disclosing my student status to Dr. Steiner. But one can certainly recommend a book for study without identifying with the content of the same; indeed, one can do so in order to get the discussion flowing and to see the errors corrected. It was with this latter in mind that I wrote the lines already mentioned to Mr. Boldt, but not to appear as an unconditional supporter of his views. After these explanations, you will understand that I am extremely annoyed to see my name misused in this brochure, the content and overall tendency of which I am very far removed from. I would like to ask you to take the opportunity of the general assembly to make this known in a way that you consider appropriate, so that the members attacked by Mr. Boldt do not consider me to be one of Mr. Boldt's supporters. I am not ashamed to admit that I would not consider it a mistake if the sexual problems, which have such a profound impact on human development, were to be properly examined by a serious party, and that I would deeply I would express a deep desire for understanding if he found it right to step out of his reserve, which he has certainly observed for good reason up to now. However, I must absolutely condemn any desire to exert the slightest pressure on the resolutions of our great teacher in this direction. Likewise, I am willing to admit that, due to my current state of mind, I may have shown more interest in Mr. Boldt's remarks than would be the case today. However, I strongly object to being considered Mr. Boldt's partisan and attach particular importance to the statement that I never authorized Mr. Boldt to consider me as such, much less to publish my private lines in a brochure.

I am taking a keen interest in the proceedings of the General Assembly. Please extend the special greetings of the Weimar branch to those gathered. I remain with the expression of loyal sentiments and warmest thanks for your efforts

as always, your very devoted
Horst von Henning.

A second letter, which arrived on January 15, reads:

Weimar, January 15, 1914
Luisenstraße 19

Dear Miss von Sivers!

Please forgive me for bothering you a second time with a request regarding the Boldt matter.

I thought it right to address the following circular to Messrs Ludwig Deinhard, Edouard Schuré and Friedrich Lienhard, and I have already received the same, along with the attachment, back from Mr. Deinhard, who writes to me that he, too, finds it an unparalleled lack of tact that Mr. Boldt, without asking him, printed in his brochure a statement that was only made orally and which, in his (Deinhards opinion) is full of tactlessness. Unfortunately, however, Mr. Deinhard does not have Mr. Schuré's address, and since I do not know it either, I would kindly ask you to forward the circular letter and its attachment to Mr. Schur&, with the request that he then also forward it to Mr. Lienhard. I enclose a stamped envelope for your convenience and would also ask you to take note of the copy of my letter to Mr. Boldt attached to the enclosures. With warm regards to you and all dear friends there, I remain always

Your grateful
Horst von Henning

Fräulein von Sivers says: It would probably also turn out that Mr. Schure and Mr. Lienhard, like Mr. Deinhard, only gave Mr. Boldt a verbal assurance; after all, a well-meaning man like Mr. Schuré would hardly want to say anything other than, “Quite interesting!” to a young writer.

Dr. Steiner: Ms. Wolfram has asked to speak first.

Mrs. Wolfram: One could indeed just shrug off the Boldt case with a smile, and wave the application away with a hand gesture into the waste paper basket, and get on with the agenda. But since this “Boldt case” is a typical case, since there is not just one Boldt, but unfortunately many “Boldtes”, and it can happen to us again and again that our precious time is taken up and stolen in this truly unqualifiable way, I would like to present some of the facts of this case and conclude with an appeal to you, so that this Boldt case remains the only one of its kind and is not repeated. After all, we have better things to do than to waste our time on these matters, which are as tragic as they are comical.

To avoid appearing to be concerned only with what Mr. Boldt said out of annoyance at the fact that his book was not accepted, and to avoid giving the impression that the book might not have been all that bad after all, and its author might have had some reason to write his pamphlet, then I would like to quote a few passages from the book to prove that we are dealing with a work that is as stupid as it is brazen and shamefully dishonest. From this it will be clear that if Mr. Boldt had read this book in 1911, he would no longer be with us today. Because if someone could write such a book, then he no longer belongs in our midst. We want to develop a sense of who belongs in our society and who does not. On page 2 of his book, Mr. Boldt says:

The publication of this book may now bear witness to the fact that the Theosophical movement has made some progress in these six years, even if it is only a small one at first. We want this little book to be seen as a modest attempt to incorporate the theosophical truths into one of the practical areas of life. We believe that we have sufficiently trained our thinking, feeling and willing in the “eternal laws of existence” to be able to step out into life and promote the cultural process in a proper, timely manner by solving the problems at hand.

The sexual area is one of the most fundamental areas of life, in which, because it was shrouded in night and fog and held in awe and fear by the most dreadful ignorance, it has been possible to sin in quite appalling dimensions; it therefore most urgently needs the light and its spiritual reforming idea. And the naturalist and spiritual researcher who, free of all materialistic and moral blinkers, seeks to plow up this field overgrown with weeds in the spirit of Schiller's “Aesthetic Letters,” Steiner's “Philosophy of Freedom,” and in the spirit of theosophy, must necessarily arrive at the present results through logical, appropriate thinking. If the mission of the spiritual researcher is now mainly to seek out and proclaim the occult truths and eternal laws of existence as the primary foundations of all life reform, then it is our task to work on the secondary development of the individual spheres of life in the sense of these truths and laws, and to build on the existing abilities of the given human material with full understanding of the tasks of the Theosophical movement within our cultural epoch, and to raise it by one step.

* * *

In the introductory words to the essay on the “Education of the Child”, Steiner set out the program for social reform work at a higher level. Since the existing sex literature does not meet these high standards, we felt compelled to establish a new one.

Yes, what impression do you get from that? The author is not a bit megalomaniac! He speaks of himself in the greatest conceivable modesty! I say this above all to show you that these accounts are teeming with examples of the impotence of consistent thinking. But the author does not notice any of this himself; on the one hand, he contradicts what he has said on the other. This only needs to be stated once. Because it is important to me to point out: we do not want to do it like our dear Mr. Horst von Henning, who may have read the book briefly. We want to approach the book with one thing in mind: whether it is sound or not. In this day and age, it is not difficult to publish a book teeming with mistakes – it is almost painful to listen to the chaos that it presents. And everyone who values logical thinking should get used to listening to this chaos. The young man continues (p. 4):

The monistic-spiritualistic literature on this subject, as attempted for the first time in this book, contains new, future-oriented values of a higher order and leads the herd-man out of the present dilemma of the sexual Scylla and Charybdis onto the only real path of the mountain-man to the goal of his highest perfection in the super-man.

We call the tendency of this book monistic-spiritualistic because, independently of contemporary sexual literature and overcoming it, it seeks to establish new foundations for life.

In his brochure, however, he says (p. 4):

As an occultist, I stand beyond monism and dualism...

In the book, however, he says “monistic-spiritualistic,” and then it continues:

It treats this material by drawing on occult, spiritual scientific research results, without therefore leaving the real ground of monism.

Just think about this tangle of thoughts! And on this ground, Mr. Boldt now wants to graft everything that the seer gives in terms of spiritual science! This is now amalgamated by Mr. Boldt and the further ground is created from it, on which we - we “bugs” - can develop further. Furthermore:

With its head in the sky, it seeks to gain a firm foothold on earth and vice versa: rooted in the physical world, it strives with its blossoms and fruits into the spiritual world. - For this reason, we too will not be able to please any of the contemporary parties, because our premises are also - since they are theosophical - “far beyond all party politics”.

When it comes to the various issues of the day, there is no reason to ignore the gender issue in favor of the other cultural issues, for it asserts itself in all its harrowing scope. The theosophist must therefore not withdraw his attention from it. He must also allow the light of his spirit to fall on this area of life and fertilize it with the spiritual reform ideas of Theosophy. This has been admirably stimulated by Steiner's two lectures on 'Man and Woman' and 'Man, Woman and Child in the Light of Spiritual Science'. Our task was now to treat this subject in a broader developmental-historical sense and to bring together all occult knowledge about it.

Where are the Theosophists, one might ask, who have so far dared to approach the reform of sexual life in the spirit of Theosophy? And how many are there who are able to bring the necessary interest and understanding to such endeavors? It is understandable that a pioneering undertaking like this one must meet with great resistance, especially from the partisans of the dualistic and monistic schools. But if such resistance also arises in part from the theosophical movement itself, this is merely due to the immaturity of the majority of its “followers”. But this movement is certainly not concerned with followers; it needs free spirits and big hearts that see through the life of the present with a bright, clear gaze and find the right points of attack for social action.

It is really not that difficult to see that this is written by a young, rather self-confident man, in whose head it not only looks quite chaotic, but also hovers in a rather ominous way the spirit of megalomania. And it must be said that during the time this young man has been our member, he has not only forgotten nothing of his megalomania, but has also profited nothing from the teachings of spiritual science. What does the insistence that we must deal with sexual problems mean to anyone who reflects on the facts of developmental history that have been given us through spiritual scientific research? The frequent references to sexual problems are somewhat superfluous. If one has only studied and thought about what has been communicated to us, for example, about the development of the human being, about the course of development of the world and humanity, from the fact of the influence of the spirit into the world and so on, then everyone will have to say to themselves: How foolish it would be if we Theosophists were now to coin a very specific formula for how we wanted to deal with this sexual issue. After all, this is about the most personal area of each of us, and everyone will know that it is self-evident how a person should behave in their particular case. It is a different matter if we wanted to know what foolish views prevail in scientific circles. In the case of Mr. Boldt's book, however, one can only conclude that it is a stupid and brazen book; but it is also a shamefully dishonest book. And I will prove this to you.

If one wanted to say that this Mr. Boldt was not aware of the terrible things he is saying and doing, that is no excuse. It only makes it much worse that in our circles, where enough can be learned, it is possible that a person writes, dares to write, that he lies and is not supposed to know it himself. So such things are growing in our circles. I still have to show you that there are other “Boldtes”, which is why I want to treat this case as a typical one. Mr. Boldt then talks about the “sources” of his book, cites works by Dr. Steiner and then says page [7-8]:

The elementary, ethical-aesthetic content of this writing is the author's own. Nevertheless, it should not go unmentioned that it is fully in line with what Steiner has set down in his brilliant “Philosophy of Freedom” and in the magnificent book on “Friedrich Nietzsche.

If you are not careful, you will not notice anything, not notice what the “ethical-aesthetic content of ideas” is. I must confess that I could not believe my eyes when I saw where Mr. Boldt finally ended up as a result of his interesting and valuable research, what he considers to be right for the sexual life of our time (p. 54 of his book). One can only describe it: that the ideal of asceticism should already be recognized, but that it should hover over people like a very distant ideal for the future. We humans are not yet so far that we could think of realizing such an ideal. When Mr. Boldt wants to think, he always quotes Nietzsche, and then he explains what is the only right thing for our time. It is remarkable that I, of all people, always have to say such things: the unrestricted freedom of the individual to experience lovingly sexually whatever he desires; and Mr. Boldt then presents the “Oneida practice” as something worthy of imitation. He says that what he quite openly proclaims as the conclusion of his ideal, his ethical-aesthetic idea, must be based on what Dr. Steiner himself says. In the remarks that follow $135 - as is the case with all profound works, there must be a commentary on them - things are said to explain why Dr. Steiner says the same thing as what Mr. Boldt proclaims as the ideological content of this book, which is his own soul property:

11) When Foerster often finds a “hymn to the powers of procreation” in the sexual education literature of recent years and thereby “really gets the feeling that religion has not disappeared, but has been transferred from the soul to the sexual sphere, and that God no longer reveals himself in conscience, but in the organs of procreation...”, he is by no means mistaken; spiritual science fully confirms the accuracy of this feeling. God reveals Himself not only in the free, thinking human spirit, but also in the organs of procreation. The wisdom of Foerster, “that sex itself is a street urchin,” is vigorously rejected by modern spiritual research. In his journal “Lucifer - Gnosis,” issue 23 “From the Akasha Chronicle,” Steiner comments on this as follows:

And now you shall see what it is capable of when we let all those into our circles who brutally and dirtyly exploit everything for themselves.

His (the human being's) entire lower half – that which is often called the lower nature – has now come under the intellectually shaping influence of the higher beings (the Jehovah-Elohims)... One can also say that those noble spiritual powers... have now descended to unfold their power in the area of reproduction. In fact, noble divine powers have a regulating and organizing effect in this area.

But all this is done in such a way that the reader thinks that Dr. Steiner said it.

And with that, an important sentence from The Secret Doctrine is expressed, which reads: The higher, noble divine powers are related to the seemingly lower powers of human nature.

And so on:

12) To supplement this thought, read Steiner: “The Secret Doctrine”, $. 65 to 75. There is talk of a “hidden spiritual” that “works in the revelations of the body”. Because “in everything that the senses perceive, they also receive a spiritual... The lowest pleasures can be revelations of the spirit. The satisfaction that the hungry being gets from eating is a revelation of the spirit. For through the intake of food, that is brought about, without which the spiritual could not find its development in a certain respect... Sensual pleasures the I must have as long as it lives in the body, even insofar as it is spiritual. For in the sensual the spirit reveals itself; and the I enjoys nothing but the spirit when it surrenders to the light of the spirit in the sensual world... This sensual world is a revelation of the spiritual hidden behind it. The ego could never enjoy the spirit in the form in which it can only reveal itself through the bodily senses if it did not want to use these senses to enjoy the spiritual in the sensual.

And what does Boldt make of it? He reinterprets everything in a sexual way!

As long as a person is moderate in his enjoyment, “sensual enjoyment as an expression of the spirit means elevation, development of the ego”; on the other hand, if “reasoned enjoyment increases to excess and debauchery,” it has an impoverishing, desolating and destructive effect on the ego.

What has been said here regarding the satisfaction that the hungry being derives from ingesting food also applies to the pleasure that loving beings experience through sexual union; for hunger and love grow on the same wood, as Schiller also indicates in his poem “The World Sages”.

The reader can find more details about enjoyment in “Lucifer - Gnosis”, issue 13 (“How to Know Higher Worlds?”), as well as in “Theosophy” (“The Path of Knowledge”).

There are still some passages that mean an increase.

The assembly has expressed its will to refrain from further reading!

Mrs. Wolfram, continuing: What do we have here? You cannot make even more unscrupulous use of another person's intellectual property! If Mr. Boldt had read the book thoroughly, he would no longer be in our ranks.

And now I would like to make an appeal to you, after first adding something to what I said earlier: that there are many Boldtes, and that this one is just a typical case. Unfortunately, there is a view among far too many people that our movement is there to support all those who do not want to help themselves. Our society would be such a large aid institution, and one would be obliged, if one is the head of a branch, to support such and such a person in his outer life. In short, the greatest demands are placed on society. Those who now enter society with a state of mind like Mr. Boldt, for example, and who believe that they can do everything with their heads, although they can do nothing at all, these only form a choir of the discontented. It was people like that who could not play a role; they have now done what they could - which then led to their exclusion from our society.

In order to give you a proper foundation, I would like to read a few words from No. 7/8, Volume IV, 1914 of Theosophy, edited by Dr. Vollrath, part of which is edited by Casimir Zawadzki. A year ago, he wrote me a letter asking me to do whatever I could to restore the old, good relationship between him, Dr. Steiner and the Society. This Zawadzki was a member of our Society for a while, and not a very comfortable member at that. I did what I could until he plagiarized Dr. Steiner's work in an outrageous manner, until he was expelled and threw himself into the arms of Dr. Vollrath, where he still is. He then thought that since he is Polish, it would be nice if he could perhaps become Secretary General in Warsaw. But when he realized that under Besant's aegis the matter was becoming shaky, he thought he would do better if he could work under Dr. Steiner again. And now I would like to point out how really not that much is needed to know whether someone fits into our society or not. Sometimes something like an impotence of logical thinking manifests itself in a single word. The letter reads:

Leipzig, January 31, 1913.

Dear Madam!

I must thank you most sincerely for the friendly welcome you gave me last Sunday and at the same time I would like to kindly request you once more to talk to Dr. Steiner about my matter and then give me news. As I said, I would like to be a disinterested co-worker in Dr. Steiner's work, because I have never stopped deeply admiring him.

My separation from Dr. Vollrath is imminent, I will hasten the matter myself as best I can. Perhaps Dr. Steiner will be so kind as to grant me an interview, through which the old good relationship between him and me, for which I long so much, can be restored. First of all, I definitely want to become a member of the German Section, which is under Dr. Steiner's leadership, but then I want to start work in Poland in line with Dr. Steiner's thinking. ... I would like to become a member of the lodge again, also without any interest, just for the sake of the cause and unity in the spirit, if I am to remain in Leipzig for some time. ...

Anyone who can write this has not just lost their marbles, they have lost several screws!

It is completely hopeless to believe that someone who is capable of writing such a thing can deserve to be taught by us. He lacks any possibility of correct thinking when he writes this in a letter in which he wants to present himself in the best possible light. This gentleman then launched a sensational advertisement about a teaching course – again about sexual matters. I then wrote in reply to his letter that it was not acceptable, and the matter was dropped. Now Zawadzki is writing an article in No. 7/8 of Theosophy that is linked to No. III of the Mitteilungen für die Mitglieder der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft (Communications for the Members of the Anthroposophical Society). So it is possible that a person like that could have had this No. III!

This number must be judged with a sense of history. It has value for the literary historian. Today's common sense has no way of verifying the facts stated here. Only those who have been able to distill the events that are documented in it through their own sense of truth would be able to criticize; the way in which they would do so would show their attitude. Today's educated person, who has risen above domestic morality and ethics, already regards his neighbor's private life as something sacred, untouchable, as a legal sphere that is none of his business, as a circle whose author is responsible for its weal and woe.

This is now attributed to Dr. Steiner because he published the letters of Dr. Hübbe-Schleiden.

Even higher than this person is the educated man who has gone through the training of some theosophical system of stories or is still in it. For him, not only the private but also the public duties of his neighbor are something untouchable, something sacred.

Can you understand this? I can't! And I would like to point out that there must be no confusion where it is not possible to see at first glance what is important. It continues:

Dr. Steiner settles the score with Dr. Hübbe-Schleiden. He has changed his style in a gratifying way since earlier. He used to get his words from the language of the servant when he couldn't find reasons.

He goes on to discuss Dr. Steiner's “servant manner” and the complete lack of feeling for human dignity and reverence, talks about Dr. Unger and Mrs. von Reden, and then talks about the “Esoteric Section”:

It was precisely this strange thing that Dr. Steiner did that made him unpopular in the Theosophical Society. Now at last people recognize the poison of this institution; they recognize the tremendous moral dangers associated with such a theosophical circle. One must distinguish between the abuse of the Esoteric Section and the institution itself. Institutions are neither good nor bad.

Now he is slobbering again, something is going around in his mind, and so is Mr. Boldt.

It is only use that falls under the law of karma and makes them bad and good tools. Mrs. Wolfram in Leipzig has often emphasized that Dr. Steiner, as head of the Esoteric School, should be given the vow of obedience by handshake. Now the “Mitteilungen” make the following statements about the Esoteric School: “The vow of unconditional and immediate obedience, as required in the Esoteric School, is a sign of a degenerate mind. It is self-aggrandizing presumptuousness towards God and man. An act that calls down the wrath of the God within man. ...

There is no other way to say this about the Besant institutions. — Another gentleman also wrote to me, saying that I should do everything I could to help him meet Dr. Steiner again; but in the same issue of Vollrath's Theosophy, he is at it again.

And now I would like to say the following. Everything must be done to counter the infiltration of certain elements by nurturing certain attitudes and feelings. There is a concept of tolerance within our society, of course we should be tolerant; but what do we mean by that?

That we have recognized that there is an unspeakably valuable teaching material that can be handed down to us, and for which we feel a responsibility. We can still be tolerant of those who appear beautiful, but not of those for whom the sensation of what is true or untrue, what is beautiful or hypocritical, is no longer there in the brain. Observe what is first presented in the cases of Fidus, Hübbe-Schleiden, Prellwitz and others, and then how it is said, “That is not at all so,” and then they still write, “... with deepest reverence,” and so on. It is not true that we are a hospital. And by this I mean that we want to make a little front against the intrusion of such elements into us! Because that means being tolerant of what is most precious to us! The lodge boards could be granted more rights – which is only right and proper vis-à-vis a lodge board. There is so much debate about what a lodge board can and cannot do, but nothing is said about the rights it should have. I do not see a lodge committee as a “jack of all trades” who only has to ensure that the lodge rooms are clean, that lectures are available – and has nothing further to say. I think that a lodge committee should above all have the freedom for the waste paper basket once they have been trusted by being elected. The patronage of all possible products of the various Theosophical members must stop. In ordinary life, I am not legally obliged to read or buy something that someone sends me; and yet the lodge boards are supposed to be obliged to display something in the lodge rooms if someone has produced it, and you get a cold if you don't do it? In this regard, every lodge board must be able to ensure the most meticulous cleanliness of the atmosphere. If he can ensure the cleanliness of the lodge rooms, he must also be able to do the other. And it is really not that difficult to know who belongs to our ranks and who does not. If only we could get rid of the eternal judging according to emotional values, according to what someone “says”! A person is not what he says – he may believe it of himself; a person is what he does. And if he has done this or that on the physical plane as an expression of his being, then I judge by his deed. If a Hübbe-Schleiden, a Boldt and so on have done this or that, I know what they have done. And if he wants to be taken up again, he must bring forth a different deed as a metamorphosis of his being.

The various lodge boards and the general board must at least have one resolution in the soul of each of them: from now on, everything must be done to ensure that the kind of people we have heard about today are the very last of their kind among us. If that were possible, then the matter could have been dealt with at our board meeting. If the Executive Council of the Anthroposophical Society is so sure of the trust that is so often mentioned, then it would be a matter of course that such documents as the Boldt case, when they arrive, are simply consigned to the wastepaper basket!

I would like to propose that the board be given the right, on the basis of the trust placed in it by the election, to dispose of such matters as it sees fit, so that we do not waste our time on such things, as is the case now.

Dr. Steiner: Perhaps something else would happen if the “concession Schulze in the disguise of the superman” would dare to stand up for Mr. Boldt's book. If I were to be as bold as Mr. Boldt wants me to be and recommend his book to the 75 percent of our members who are lagging behind, what would happen then? On page 14 of his brochure, Mr. Boldt says:

The probable consequence of this would be that in a few weeks the most tender friendships with an erotic touch could be seen developing among Theosophists of both sexes. Of course, the tendency towards this has always been present, and not exactly weakly, and here and there many an immoral yearning has found satisfaction – as it also happens in other circles; for nature is always true and life is always right. But the situation would only become embarrassing if those living in free love could invoke the authority of Dr. Steiner. Like Ellen Key in Sweden, he would be held responsible in Germany for every illegitimate Theosophist offspring. This could have the most disastrous consequences and seriously endanger the living conditions of the Theosophical Society.

This is just an appetizer. And now I ask you to enjoy the other dishes as fully as possible!

The meeting is suspended for tea; the negotiations will be continued on Monday, January 19, 1914.

The continuation of the protocol will be published in the following issue of Mitteilungen.

When children come to the age of puberty, it is necessary to awaken within them an extraordinarily great interest in the world outside of themselves. Through the whole way in which they are educated, they must be led to look out into the world around them and into all its laws, its course, causes and effects, into men's intentions and goals—not only into human beings, but into everything, even into a piece of music, for instance. All this must be brought to them in such a way that it can resound on and on within them—so that questions about nature, about the cosmos and the entire world, about the human soul, questions of history—so that riddles arise in their youthful souls.

When the astral body¹ becomes free at puberty, forces are freed which can now be used for formulating these riddles. But when these riddles of the world and its manifestations do not arise in young souls, then these same forces are changed into something else.

When such forces become free, and it has not been possible to awaken the most intensive interest in such world-riddles, then these energies transform themselves into what they become in most young people today. They change in two directions into urges of an instinctive kind: first into delight in power, and second into eroticism.

Unfortunately pedagogy does not now consider this delight in power and the eroticism of young people to be the secondary results of changes in things that, until the age of 20 or 21, really ought to go in an altogether different direction, but considers them to be natural elements in the human organism at puberty. If young people are rightly educated, there should be no need whatsoever to speak about love of power and eroticism to them at this age. If such things have to be spoken about during these years, this is in itself something that smacks of illness. Our entire pedagogical art and science is becoming ill because again and again the highest value is attributed to these questions. A high value is put upon them for no other reason than that people are powerless today—have grown more and more powerless in the age of a materialistic world-conception—to inspire true interest in the world, the world in the widest sense ...

When we do not have enough interest in the world around us, then we are thrown back into ourselves. Taken all in all, we have to say that if we look at the chief damages created by modern civilization, they arise primarily because people are far too concerned with themselves and do not usually spend the larger part of their leisure time in concern for the world but busy themselves with how they feel and what gives them pain ... And the least favorable time of life to be self-occupied in this way is during the ages between 14, 15 and 21 years old.

The capacity for forming judgments is blossoming at this time and should be directed toward world-interrelationships in every field. The world must become so all-engrossing to young people that they simply do not turn their attention away from it long enough to be constantly occupied with themselves. For, as everyone knows, as far as subjective feelings are concerned, pain only becomes greater the more we think about it. It is not the objective damage but the pain of it that increases as we think more about it. In certain respects, the very best remedy for the overcoming of pain is to bring yourself, if you can, not to think about it. Now there develops in young people just between 15, 16 and 20, 21, something not altogether unlike pain. This adaptation to the conditions brought about through the freeing of the astral body from the physical is really a continual experience of gentle pain. And this kind of experience immediately makes us tend towards self-preoccupation, unless we are sufficiently directed away from it and toward the world outside ourselves ...

If a teacher makes a mistake while teaching a 10 or 12 year old, then, as far as the mutual relationship between pupil and teacher is concerned, this does not really make such a very great difference. By this I do not mean that you should make as many mistakes as possible with children of this age ...

The feeling for the teacher's authority will flag perhaps for a while, but such things will be forgotten comparatively quickly, in any case much sooner than certain injustices are forgotten at this age. On the other hand, when you stand in front of students between 14, 15 and 20, 21, you simply must not expose your latent inadequacies and so make a fool of yourself ...

If a student is unable to formulate a question which he experiences inwardly, the teacher must be capable of doing this himself, so that he can bring about such a formulation in class, and he must be able to satisfy the feeling that then arises in the students when the question comes to expression. For if he does not do this, then when all that is mirrored there in the souls of these young people goes over into the world of sleep, into the sleeping condition, a body of detrimental, poisonous substances is produced by the unformulated questions. These poisons are developed only during the night, just when poisons ought really to be broken down and transformed instead of created. Poisons are produced that burden the brains of the young people when they go to class, and gradually everything in them stagnates, becomes “stopped up.” This must and can be avoided. But it can only be avoided if the feeling is not aroused in the students: “Now again the teacher has failed to give us the right answer. He really hasn't answered us at all. We can't get a satisfying answer out of him.” Those are the latent inadequacies, the self-exposures that occur when the children have the feeling: “The teacher just isn't up to giving us the answers we need.” And for this inability, the personal capacities and incapacities of the teacher are not the only determining factors, but rather the pedagogical method.

If we spend too much time pouring a mass of information over young people at this age, or if we teach in such a way that they never come to lift their doubts and questions into consciousness, then the teacher—even though he is the more objective party—exposes, even if indirectly, his latent in-adequacies ...

You see the teacher must, in full consciousness, be permeated through and through with all this when he deals with the transition from the ninth to the tenth grades, for it is just with the entire transformation of the courses one gives that the pedagogy must concern itself. If we have children of six or seven, then the course is already set through the fact that they are entering school, and we do not need to understand any other relationship to life. But when we lead young people over from the ninth to the tenth grade, then we must put ourselves into quite another life-condition. When this happens, the children must say to themselves: “Great thunder and lightning! What's happened to the teacher! Up to now we've thought of him as a pretty bright light who has plenty to say, but now he's beginning to talk like more than a man. Why, the whole world speaks out of him!”

And when they feel the most intensive interest in particular world questions and are put into the fortunate position of being able to impart this to other young people, then the world speaks out of them also. Out of a mood of this kind, verve (Schwung) must arise. Verve is what teachers must bring to young people at this age, verve which above all is directed towards imagination; for although the students are developing the capacity to make judgments, judgment is actually borne out of the powers of imagination. And if you deal with the intellect intellectually, if you are not able to deal with the intellect with a certain imagination, then you have “mis-played,” you have missed the boat with them.

Young people demand imaginative powers; you must approach them with verve, and with verve of a kind that convinces them. Scepticism is something that you may not bring to them at this age, that is in the first half of this life-period. The most damaging judgment for the time between 14, 15 and 18 is one that implies in a pessimistically knowledgeable way: “That is something that cannot be known.” This crushes the soul of a child or a young person. It is more possible after 18 to pass over to what is more or less in doubt. But between 14 and 18 it is soul-crushing, soul-debilitating, to introduce them to a certain scepticism. What subject you deal with is much less important than that you do not bring this debilitating pessimism to young people.

It is important for oneself as a teacher to exercise a certain amount of self-observation and not give in to any illusions; for it is fatal if, just at this age, young people feel cleverer than the teacher during class, especially in secondary matters. It should be—and it can be achieved, even if not right in the first lesson—that they are so gripped by what they hear that their attention will really be diverted from all the teacher's little mannerisms. Here, too, the teacher's latent inadequacies are the most fatal.

Now if you think, my dear friends, that neglect of these matters unloads its consequences into the channels of instinctive love of power and eroticism, then you will see from the beginning how tremendously significant it is to take the education of these young people in hand in a bold and generous way. You can much more easily make mistakes with older students, let us say with those at medical school. For what you do at this earlier age works into their later life in an extraordinarily devastating way. It works destructively, for instance, upon the relationships between people. The right kind of interest in other human beings is not possible if the right sort of world-interest is not aroused in the 15 or 16 year old. If they learn only the Kant-Laplace theory of the creation of the solar system and what one learns through astronomy and astrophysics today, if they cram into their skulls only this idea of the cosmos, then in social relationships they will be just such men and women as those of our modern civilization who, out of anti-social impulses, shout about every kind of social reform but within their souls actually bring anti-social powers to expression. I have often said that the reason people make such an outcry about social matters is because men are antisocial beings.

It cannot be said often enough that in the years between 14 and 18 we must build in the most careful way upon the fundamentally basic moral relationship between pupil and teacher. And here morality is to be understood in its broadest sense: that, for instance, a teacher calls up in his soul the very deepest sense of responsibility for his task. This moral attitude must show itself in that we do not give all too much acknowledgement to this deflection toward subjectivity and one's own personality. In such matters, imponderables really pass over from teacher to pupil. Mournful teachers, un-alterably morose teachers, who are immensely fond of their lower selves, produce in children of just this age a faithful mirror picture, or if they do not, kindle a terrible revolution. More important than any approved method is that we do not expose our latent inadequacies and that we approach the children with an attitude that is inwardly moral through and through ...

This sickly eroticism which has grown up—also in people's minds—to such a terrible extent appears for the most part only in city dwellers, city dwellers who have become teachers and doctors. And only as urban life triumphs altogether in our civilization will these things come to such a terrible—I do not want to say “blossoming” but to such a frightful—degeneracy. Naturally we must look not at appearances but at reality. It is certainly quite unnecessary to begin to organize educational homes in the country immediately. If teachers and pupils carry these same detrimental feelings out into the country and are really permeated by urban conceptions, you can call a school a country educational home as long as you like, you will still have a blossoming of city life to deal with ...

What we have spoken about here today is of the utmost pedagogical importance and, in considering the high school years, should be taken into the most earnest consideration.

• 1. A term used to designate all that is sentient in man and in animals.

Before the conference began, Rudolf Steiner addressed the participants gathered in the White Hall of the Goetheanum:

Ladies and Gentlemen, before beginning this lecture course, allow me to bring up an administrative matter. Originally, this course was meant for a smaller group, but it has drawn such a response that it has become clear that we cannot gather in this tightly-packed hall. It would be impossible, and you would soon realize this if you were to attend both the lectures and the translations. Consequently, I have decided to present the lectures twice—the first each day at ten A.M. and again at eleven, for those who wish to hear it translated into English. For technical reasons this is the only way to proceed. Therefore, I will begin the earlier lectures exactly at ten and second at eleven o’clock. I will ask those who came from England, Holland, and Scandinavia to attend the later lectures and everyone else to attend the first.

First of all I would like to express my great joy at meeting so many of you here in this hall. Anyone whose life is filled with enthusiasm for the movement centered here at the Goetheanum is bound to experience happiness and a deep inner satisfaction at witnessing the intense interest for our theme, which your visit has shown. I would therefore like to begin this introductory lecture by welcoming you all most warmly. And I wish to extend a special welcome to Mrs. Mackenzie, whose initiative and efforts have brought about this course. On behalf of the anthroposophic movement, I owe her a particular debt of gratitude.

I would like to add that it is not just a single person who is greeting you here, but that, above all, it is this building, the Goetheanum itself, that receives you. I can fully understand if some of you feel critical of certain features of this building as a work of art. Any undertaking that appears in the world in this way must be open to judgment, and any criticism made in good faith is appreciated—certainly by me. But, whatever your reactions may be to this building, it is the Goetheanum itself that welcomes you. Through just its forms and artistic composition, you can see that the aim here was not to erect a building for specific purposes, such as education, for example. The underlying spirit and style of this building shows that it was conceived and erected from the spirit of our time, to serve a movement and destined to play its part in our present civilization. And because education represents an integral part of human civilization, it is proper for it to be nurtured here at this center.

The close relationship between anthroposophic activities and problems of education will occupy us in greater detail within the next few days. Today, however, as part of these introductory remarks, I would like to talk about something that really is a part of any established movement. In a sense, you have come here to familiarize yourselves with the various activities centered here at the Goetheanum, and in greeting you most warmly as guests, I feel it right to begin by introducing you to our movement.

The aims of this anthroposophic movement, which has been in existence now for some twenty years, are only gradually beginning to manifest. It is only lately that this movement has been viewed by the world at large in ways that are consistent with its original aims. Nevertheless, this movement has gone through various phases, and a description of these may provide the most proper introduction.

Initially, the small circle of its adherents saw anthroposophy as a movement representing a very narrow religious perspective. This movement tended to attract people who were not especially interested in its scientific background and were not inclined to explore its artistic possibilities. Nor were they aware of how its practical activities might affect society as a whole. The first members were mainly those dissatisfied with traditional religious practice. They were the sort of people whose deepest human longings prompted them to search for answers to the problems inherent in the human soul and spirit—problems that could not be answered for them by existing religious movements.

For me it often was quite astonishing to see that what I had to say about the fundamentals of anthroposophy was not at all understood by members who, nevertheless, supported the movement with deep sympathy and great devotion. When matters of a more scientific nature was discussed, these initial members extracted what spoke to their hearts and appealed to their immediate feelings and sentiments. And I can truly say that it was the most peaceful time within the anthroposophic movement, though this was certainly not what I was looking for. Because of this situation, during its first phase the anthroposophic movement was able to join another movement (though only outwardly and mainly from an administrative perspective), which you might know as the Theosophical Society.

Unless they can discern the vital and fundamental differences, those who search with a simple heart for knowledge of the eternal in human nature will find either movement equally satisfactory. The Theosophical Society is concerned primarily with a theoretical knowledge that embraces cosmology, philosophy, and religion and uses the spoken and printed word as its means of communication. Those who are satisfied with their lives in general, but wish to explore the spirit beyond what traditional doctrines offer, might find either movement equally satisfying. But (and only a few members noticed this) once it became obvious that, in terms of cosmology, philosophy, and religion, anthroposophic goals were never intended to be merely theoretical but to enter social life in a direct and practical way according to the demands of the spirit of our times—only then did it gradually become obvious that our movement could no longer work within the Theosophical Society. For in our time (and this will become clear in the following lectures), any movement that limits itself to theories of cosmology, philosophy, and religion is bound to degenerate into intolerable dogmatism. It was the futility of dogmatic arguments that finally caused the separation of the two movements.

It is obvious that no one who is sensible and understands western culture could seriously consider what became the crux of these dogmatic quarrels that led to this split. These quarrels were sparked by claims that an Indian boy was the reincarnation of Christ. Since such a claim was completely baseless, it was unacceptable.

To waste energy and strength on theoretical arguments is not the way of anthroposophy, which aims to enter life directly. When it became necessary to work in the artistic, social, scientific, and—above all—in the educational realm, the true aims of anthroposophy made it necessary to separate from the Theosophical Society. Of course, this did not happen all at once; essentially, all that happened in the anthroposophic movement after 1912 demonstrated that this movement had to fight for its independence in the world, if it was going to penetrate ordinary life.

In 1907, during a Theosophical Society congress in Munich, I realized for the first time that it would be impossible for me to work with this movement. Along with my friends from the German section of the Theosophical Society, I had been given the task of arranging the program for this congress. Apart from the usual items, we included a performance of a mystery play by Edouard Schuré (1841–1929), The Sacred Drama of Eleusis. We decided to create a transition from the movement’s religious theories to a broader view that would encourage artistic activity. From our anthroposophic perspective, we viewed the performance as an artistic endeavor. But there were people in the movement who tried to satisfy their sometimes egotistical religious feelings by merely looking for a theoretical interpretation. They would ask, What is the meaning of this individual in the drama? What does that person mean? Such people would not be happy unless they could reduce the play to theoretical terms.

Any movement that cannot embrace life fully because of a lopsided attitude will certainly become sectarian. Spiritual science, on the other hand, is not the least inclined toward sectarianism, because it naturally tends to bring ideals down to earth and enter life in practical ways.

These attempts to free the anthroposophic movement from sectarianism by entering the artistic sphere represent the second phase of its history. Gradually, as membership increased, a need arose for the thought of philosophy, cosmology, and religion to be expressed artistically, and this in turn prompted me to write my mystery plays. And these must not be interpreted theoretically or abstractly, because they are intended to be experienced directly on the stage. To bring this about, my plays were performed in ordinary, rented theaters in Munich, from 1910 to 1913. And this led to an impulse to build a center for the anthroposophic movement. The changing situation made it clear that Munich was inappropriate for such a building, and so we were led to Dornach hill, where the Goetheanum was built as the right and proper place for the anthroposophic movement.

These new activities showed that, in keeping with its true spirit, the anthroposophic movement is always prepared to enter every branch of human life. Imagine that a different movement of a more theoretical religious character had decided to build a center; what would have happened? First, its members would collect money from sympathizers (a necessary step, unfortunately). Then they would choose an architect to design the building, perhaps in an antique or renaissance style or in a gothic or baroque or some other traditional style.

However, when the anthroposophic movement was in the happy position of being able to build its own home, such a procedure would have been totally unacceptable to me. Anything that forms an organic living whole cannot be assembled from heterogeneous parts. What relationship could any words, spoken in the spirit of anthroposophy, have had with the forms around a listener in a baroque, antique, or renaissance building? A movement that expresses only theories can present only abstractions. A living movement, on the other hand, must work into every area of life through its own characteristic impulses. Therefore, the urge to express life, soul, and spirit in practical activity (which is characteristic of anthroposophy) demanded that the surrounding architecture—the glowing colors of the wall paintings and the pillars we see—should speak the same language that is spoken theoretically in ideas and abstract thoughts. All of the movements that existed in the world previously were equally comprehensive; ancient architecture was certainly not isolated from its culture, but grew from the theoretical and practical activities of the time. The same can be said of the renaissance—certainly of the gothic, but also of the baroque.

To avoid a sectarian or theoretical ideology, anthroposophy had to find its own architectural and artistic styles. As mentioned before, one may find this style unsatisfactory or even paradoxical, but the fact is, according to its real nature, anthroposophy simply had to create its own physical enclosure. Let me make a comparison that may appear trivial but may, nevertheless, clarify these thoughts. Think of a walnut and its kernel. It is obvious that both nut and shell were created by the same forces, since together they make a whole. If anthroposophy had been housed in an incongruous building, it would be as if a walnut kernel had been found in the shell of a different plant. Nature produces nut and shell, and they both speak the same language. Similarly, neither symbolism nor allegory was needed here; rather, it was necessary that anthroposophic impulses flow directly into artistic creativity. If thoughts are to be expressed in this building, they must have a suitable shell, from artistic and architectural points of view. This was not easy to do, however, because the sectarian tendency is strong today, even among those looking for a broadening of religious ideals. But anthroposophy must not be influenced by people’s sympathies or antipathies. It must remain true to its own principles, which are closely linked to the needs and yearnings of our times, as will be shown in the next few days.

And so anthroposophy entered the practical domain—as far as this was possible in those days. At the time, I surprised some members by saying, “Anthroposophy wants to enter all walks of life. Although conditions do not allow this today, I would love to open banks that operate according to anthroposophic principles.” This may sound strange, but it was meant to show that anthroposophy is in its right element only when it can fertilize every aspect of life. It must never be seen merely as a philosophical and religious movement.

We now come to the catastrophic and chaotic time of the World War, which produced its own particular needs. In September 1913, we laid the foundation stone of this building. In 1914, when war broke out, we were building the foundation of the Goetheanum. Here I want to say only that, at a time when Europe was torn asunder by opposing nationalistic aspirations, here in Dornach we successfully maintained a place where people from all nations could meet and work together in peace, united by a common spirit. This was a source of deep inner satisfaction. Those war years could be considered as the second phase in the development of our movement.

Despite efforts to continue anthroposophic work during the war, the outer activities of the anthroposophic movement were mostly paralyzed. But one could experience how peoples everywhere gradually came to feel an inner need for spiritual sustenance, which, in my opinion, anthroposophy was able to offer. After 1918, when the war had ended, at least outwardly, there was an enormous, growing interest in spiritual renewal, such as anthroposophy wished to provide. Between autumn 1918 and spring 1919, numerous friends—many from Stuttgart—came to see me in Dornach. They were deeply concerned about the social conditions of the time, and they wanted the anthroposophic movement to take an active role in trying to come to terms with the social and economic upheavals. This led to the third phase of our movement.

It happened that Southern Germany—Württemberg in particular—was open to such anthroposophic activities, and one had to work wherever this was possible. These activities, however, were colored a little by the problems of that particular region, problems caused by the prevailing social chaos. An indescribable misery had spread over the whole of Central Europe at the time. Yet, seen in a broader context, the suffering caused by material needs was small compared to what was happening in the soul realm of the population. One could feel that humanity had to face the most fundamental questions of human existence. Questions once raised by Rousseau, which led to visible consequences in the French Revolution, did not touch the most basic human yearnings and needs as did the questions presented in 1919, within the very realms where we wished to work.

In this context, awareness of a specific social need began to grow in the hearts of my friends. They realized that perhaps the only way to work effectively toward a better future would be to direct our efforts toward the youth and their education. Our friend Emil Molt (who at the time was running the Waldorf- Astoria Cigarette Factory in Stuttgart) offered his services for such an effort by establishing the Waldorf school for his workers’ children, and I was asked to help direct the school. People were questioning everything related to the organization of society as it had developed over the past centuries from its tribal and ethnic elements. This prompted me to present a short proclamation concerning the threefold social order to the German people and to the civilized world in general, and also to publish my book Towards Social Renewal.

Many other activities connected with the social question also occurred, at first in South Germany, which resulted from this general situation and prevailing mood. It was essential then, though immensely difficult, to touch the most fundamental aspirations of the human soul. Despite their physical and mental agony, people were called upon to search, quite abstractly, for great and sublime truths; but because of the general upheaval they were unable to do so. Many who heard my addresses said to me later, “All this may be correct and even beautiful, but it concerns the future of humanity. We have faced death often during the last years and are no longer concerned about the future; we must live from day to day. Why should we be more interested in the future now than when we had to face the guns every day?” Such comments characterize the prevaling apathy of that time toward the most important and fundamental questions of human development.

Before the war, one could observe all sorts of educational experiments in various special schools. It was out of the question, however, that we would establish yet another country boarding school or implement a certain brand of educational principles. We simply wished to heal social ills and serve the needs of humankind in general. You will learn more about the fundamentals of Waldorf education during the coming lectures. For now, I merely wish to point out that, as in every field, anthroposophy sees its task as becoming involved in the realities of a situation as it is given. It was not for us to open a boarding school somewhere in a beautiful stretch of open countryside, where we would be free to do as we pleased. We had to fit into specific, given conditions. We were asked to teach the children of a small town—that is, we had to open a school in a small town where even our highest aspirations had to be built entirely upon pragmatic and sound educational principles. We were not free to choose a particular locality nor select students according to ability or class; we accepted given conditions with the goal of basing our work on spiritual knowledge. In this way, as a natural consequence of anthroposophic striving, Waldorf education came into existence.

The Waldorf school in Stuttgart soon ceased to be what it was in the beginning—a school for the children of workers at the Waldorf-Astoria Cigarette Factory. It quickly attracted students from various social backgrounds, and today parents everywhere want to send their children. From the initial enrollment of 140 children, it has grown to more than 600, and more applications are coming in all the time. A few days ago, we laid the foundation stone for a very necessary extension to our school, and we hope that, despite all the difficulties one must face in this kind of work, we will soon be able to expand our school further.

I wish to emphasize, however, that the characteristic feature of this school is its educational principles, based on knowledge of the human being and its ability to adapt those principles to external, given realities. If one can choose students according to ability or social standing, or if one can choose a locality, it is relatively easy to accomplish imaginary, even real, educational reforms. But it is no easy task to establish and develop a school on educational principles closely connected with the most fundamental human impulses, while also being in touch with the practical demands of life.

Thus, during its third phase, our anthroposophic movement has spread into the social sphere, and this aspect will naturally occupy us in greater depth during the coming days. But you must realize that what has been happening in the Waldorf school until now represents only a beginning of endeavors to bring our fundamental goals right down into life’s practicalities.

Concerning other anthroposophic activities that developed later on, I would like to say that quite a number of scientifically trained people came together in their hope and belief that the anthroposophic movement could also fertilize the scientific branches of life. Medical doctors met here, because they were dissatisfied with the ways of natural science, which accept only external observation and experimentation. They were convinced that such a limited attitude could never lead to a full understanding of the human organism, whether in health or illness. Doctors came who were deeply concerned about the unnecessary limitations established by modern medical science, such as the deep chasm dividing medical practice into pathology and therapy.

These branches coexist today almost as separate sciences. In its search for knowledge, anthroposophy uses not just methods of outer experimentation—observation of external phenomena synthesized by the intellect—but, by viewing the human being as body, soul, and spirit, it also utilizes other means, which I will describe in coming days. Instead of dealing with abstract thoughts, spiritual science is in touch with the living spirit. And because of this, it was able to meet the aspirations of those urgently seeking to bring new life into medicine. As a result, I was asked to give two courses here in Dornach to university-trained medical specialists and practicing doctors, in order to outline the contribution spiritual science could make in the field of pathology and therapy. Both here in Dornach and in nearby Arlesheim, as well as in Stuttgart, institutes for medical therapy have sprung up, working with their own medicines and trying to utilize what spiritual science can offer to healing, in dealing with sickness and health. Specialists in other sciences have also come to look for new impulses arising from spiritual science; thus, courses were given in physics and astronomy. In this way, anthroposophic spirit knowledge was called upon to bring practical help to the various branches of science.

Characteristic of this third phase of the anthroposophic movement is the fact that gradually—despite a certain amount of remaining opposition—people have come to see that spiritual science, as practiced here, can meet every demand for an exact scientific basis of working and that, as represented here, it can work with equal discipline and in harmony with any other scientific enterprise. In time, people will appreciate more and more the potential that has been present during these past twenty years in the anthroposophic movement.

Yet another example shows how the most varied fields of human endeavor can be fructified through spiritual science, through the creation of a new art of movement we call eurythmy. It uses the human being as an instrument of expression, and it aims toward specific results. So we try to let anthroposophic life—not anthroposophic theories—flow into all sorts of activities—for example, the art of recitation and speech, about which you will hear more in the next few days.

This last phase with its educational, medical, and artistic impulses is the most characteristic one of the anthroposophic movement. Spiritual science has many supporters as well as many enemies—even bitter enemies. But now it has entered the very stage of activities for which it has been waiting. And so it was a satisfying experience during my stay in Kristiania [Oslo], from November twenty-third to December fourth this year to speak of anthroposophic life to educators and to government economists, as well as to Norwegian students and various other groups. All of these people were willing to accept not theories or religious sectarian ideas, but what waits to reveal itself directly from the spirit of our time in answer to the great needs of humanity.

So much for the three phases of the anthroposophic movement. As an introduction to our course I merely wanted to acquaint you with this movement and to mention its name to you, so to speak. Tomorrow, we will begin our actual theme. Nevertheless, I want you to know that it is the anthroposophic movement, with its deep educational interests, that gladly welcomes you all here to the Goetheanum.

The art of education (about which we will say a great deal during this course of lectures) is based entirely on knowledge of the human being. If such knowledge is to have a deep foundation, however, it must be based on knowledge of the entire universe, because human beings, with all their inherent abilities and powers, are rooted in the universe. Therefore true knowledge of the human being can spring only from knowing the world in its entirety. On the other hand, one can say that the educational attitudes and ideas of any age reflect the general worldview of that age. Consequently, to correctly assess current views on education, we must examine them within the context of the general worldview of our time. In this sense, it will help to look at the ideas expressed by a typical representative of today’s worldview as it developed gradually during the last few centuries. There is no doubt that, since that time, humankind has been looking with great pride at the achievements accomplished through intellectuality, and this is still largely true today.

Basically, educated people today have become very intellectualized, even if they do not admit to it. Everything in the world is judged through the instrument of the intellect. When we think of names associated with the awakening of modern thinking, we are led to the founders of modern philosophy and of today’s attitudes toward life. Such individuals based all their work on a firm belief in human intellectual powers. Names such as Galileo, Copernicus, and Giordano Bruno come to mind, and we easily believe that their mode of thinking relates only to scientific matters; but this is not the case.

If one observes without prejudice the outlook on life among the vast majority of people today, one finds a bit of natural scientific thinking hidden almost everywhere, and intellectuality inhabits this mode of thinking. We may be under the impression that, in our moral concepts or impulses and in our religious ideas and experiences, we are free from scientific thinking. But we soon discover that, by being exposed to all that flows through newspapers and popular magazines into the masses, we are easily influenced in our thinking by an undertone of natural science.

People simply fail to see life as it really is if they are unaware that today’s citizens sit down to breakfast already filled with scientific concepts—that at night they take these notions to bed and to sleep, use them in their daily work, and raise their children with them. Such people live under the illusion that they are free from scientific thinking. We even take our scientific concepts to church and, although we may hear traditional views expressed from the pulpit, we hear them with ears attuned to natural scientific thinking. And natural science is fed by this intellectuality.

Science quite correctly stresses that its results are all based on external observation, experimentation, and interpretation. Nevertheless, the instrument of the soul used for experiments in chemistry or physics represents the most intellectual part of the human entity. Thus the picture of the world that people make for themselves is still the result of the intellect.

Educated people of the West have become quite enraptured by all the progress achieved through intellectuality, especially in our time. This has led to the opinion that, in earlier times, humankind more or less lacked intelligence. The ancients supposedly lived with naive and childish ideas about the world, whereas today we believe we have reached an intelligent comprehension of the world. It is generally felt that the modern worldview is the only one based on firm ground. People have become fearful of losing themselves in the world of fantasy if they relinquish the domain of the intellect. Anyone whose thinking follows modern lines, which have been gradually developing during the last few centuries, is bound to conclude that a realistic concept of life depends on the intellect.

Now something very remarkable can be seen; on the one hand, what people consider the most valuable asset, the most important feature of our modern civilization—intellectuality—has, on the other hand, become doubtful in relation to raising and educating children. This is especially true among those who are seriously concerned with education. Although one can see that humanity has made tremendous strides through the development of intellectuality, when we look at contemporary education, we also find that, if children are being educated only in an intellectual way, their inborn capacities and human potential become seriously impaired and wither away. For some, this realization has led to a longing to replace intellectuality with something else. One has appealed to children’s feelings and instincts. To steer clear of the intellect, we have appealed to their moral and religious impulses. But how can we find the right approach? Surely, only through a thorough knowledge of the human being, which, in turn, must be the result of a thorough knowledge of the world as a whole. As mentioned, looking at a representative thinker of our time, we find the present worldview reflected in educational trends. And if one considers all relevant features, Herbert Spencer could be chosen as one such representative thinker.

I do not quote Spencer because I consider his educational ideas to be especially valuable for today’s education. I am well aware of how open these are to all kinds of arguments and how, because of certain amateurish features, they would have to be greatly elaborated. On the other hand, Spencer, in all his concepts and ideas, is firmly grounded in the kind of thinking and culture developed during the last few centuries. Emerson wrote about those he considered representative of the development of humankind—people such as Swedenborg, Goethe, and Dante. For modern thinking and feeling, however, it is Herbert Spencer above all who represents our time. Although such thinking may be tinged with national traits according to whether the person is French, Italian, or Russian, Spencer transcends such national influences. It is not the conclusions in his many books on various aspects of life that are important, but the way he reaches those conclusions, for his mode of thinking is highly representative of the thinking of all educated people—those who are influenced by a scientific view and endeavor to live in accordance with it.

Intellectualistic natural science is the very matrix of all he has to say. And what did he conclude? Herbert Spencer, who naturally never loses sight of the theory that humankind evolved gradually from lower life forms, and who then compares the human being with animals, asks this question: Are we educating our youth according to our scientific ways of thinking? And he answers this question in the negative.

In his essay on education, he deals with some of the most important questions of the modern science of education, such as, Which kind of knowledge is most valuable? He critically surveys intellectual, moral, and physical education. But the core of all considerations is something that could have been postulated only by a modern thinker, that we educate our children so they can put their physical faculties to full use in later life. We educate them to fit into professional lives. We educate them to become good citizens. According to our concepts, we may educate them to be moral or religious. But there is one thing for which we do not educate them at all: to become educators themselves. This, according to Spencer, is absent in all our educational endeavors. He maintains that, fundamentally, people are not educated to become educators or parents. Now, as a genuine natural scientific thinker, he goes on to say that the development of a living creature is complete only when it has acquired the capacity of procreating its own species, and this is how it should be in a perfect education; educated people should be able to educate and guide growing children. Such a postulate aptly illustrates the way a modern person thinks.

Looking at education today, what are Spencer’s conclusions? Metaphorically, he makes a somewhat drastic but, in my opinion, very appropriate comparison. First he characterizes the tremendous claims of education today, including those made by Pestalozzi. Then, instead of qualifying these principles as being good or acceptable, he asks how they are implemented in practice and what life is actually like in schools. In this context, he uses a somewhat drastic picture, suggesting we imagine some five to six centuries from now, when archeologists dig up some archives and find a description of our present educational system. Studying these documents, they would find it difficult to believe that they represent the general practice of our time. They would discover that children were taught grammar in order to find their way into their language. Yet we know well that the grammar children are taught hardly teaches them to express themselves in a living way later in life. Our imaginary archeologists would also discover that a large portion of students were being taught Latin and Greek, which, in our time, are dead languages. Here, they would conclude that the people of those documents had no literature of their own or, if they did, little benefit would be gained by studying it.

Spencer tries to demonstrate how inadequately our present curricula prepare students for later life, despite all the claims to the contrary. Finally, he lets these archeologists conclude that, since the document could not be indicative of the general educational practice of their time, they must have discovered a syllabus used in some monastic order. He continues (and of course this represents his opinion) by saying that adults who have gone through such educational practice are not entirely alienated from society, behaving like monks, because of the pressures and the cruel demands of life. Nevertheless, according to our imaginary archeologists, when having to face life’s challenges, those ancient students responded clumsily, because they were educated as monks and trying to live within an entirely different milieu. These views—expressed by a man of the world and not by someone engaged in practical teaching—are in their own way characteristic of contemporary education.

Now we might ask, What value do people place on their lives after immersion in a natural scientific and intellectualistic attitude toward the world?

With the aid of natural laws, we can comprehend lifeless matter. This leads us to conclude that, following the same methods, we can also understand living organisms. This is not the time to go into the details of such a problem, but one can say that, at our present state of civilization, we tend to use thoughts that allow us to grasp only what is dead and, consequently, lies beyond the human sphere. Through research in physics and chemistry, we construct a whole system of concepts that we then apply to the entire universe, albeit only hypothetically. It is true that today there are already quite a few who question the validity of applying laboratory results or the information gained through a telescope or microscope to build a general picture of the world. Nevertheless, a natural scientific explanation of the world was bound to come and, with it, the ways it affects human feelings and emotions. And if one uses concepts from laboratory or observatory research to explain the origin and the future of the earth, what happens then? One is forced to imagine the primeval nebulae of the Kant-Laplace theory, or, since views have changed since their time, something similar. But this notion of primeval nebulae makes sense only when we apply to it the laws of aeromechanics. Such laws, however, contain nothing of a soul or spiritual character. People who long for such a soul and spiritual element, therefore, must imagine that all sorts of divine powers exist along side the aeromechanical view of the universe, and then these spirit beings must be somehow blended skillfully into the image of the nebulae. The human being, in terms of soul and spirit, is not part of this picture, but has been excluded from that worldview. Those who have gotten used to the idea that only an intellectually based natural science can provide concrete and satisfactory answers find themselves in a quandary when looking for some sort of divine participation at the beginning of existence.

Education Based on Knowledge of the Human Being 21 A hypothetical concept of the end of the cosmos is bound to follow the laws of physics. In this context, we encounter the socalled second fundamental law of thermodynamics. According to this theory, all living forces are mutually transformable. However, if they are transformed into heat, or if heat is transformed into living forces, the outcome is always an excess of heat. The final result for all earthly processes would therefore be a complete transformation of all living forces into heat. This destruction through heat would produce a desert world, containing no forces but differences of temperature. Such a theory conjures up a picture of a huge graveyard in which all human achievements lie buried—all intellectual, moral, and religious ideals and impulses. If we place human beings between a cosmic beginning from which we have been excluded and a cosmic end in which again we have no place, all human ideals and achievements become nothing but vague illusions. Thus, an intellectual, natural scientific philosophy reduces the reality of human existence to a mere illusion. Such an interpretation may be dismissed simply as a hypothesis, yet even if people today do not recognize the way science affects their attitudes toward life, the negative consequences are nevertheless real. But the majority are not prepared to face reality. Nor do such theories remain the prerogative of an educated minority, because they reach the masses through magazines and popular literature, often in very subtle ways.

And, against the background of this negative disposition of soul, we try to educate our children, True, we also give them religious meaning, but here we are faced above all with division. For if we introduce religious ideas alongside scientific ideas of life, which is bound to affect our soul attitude, we enter the realm of untruth. And untruth extracts a toll beyond what the intellect can perceive, because it is active through its own inner power. Untruth, even when it remains concealed in the realm of the unconscious, assumes a destructive power over life. We enter the realm of untruth when we refuse to search for clarity in our attitudes toward life. This clarity will show us that, given the prevailing ideas today, we gain knowledge of a world where there is no room for the human being.

Let us examine a scientific discovery that fills us with pride, as it should. We follow the chain of evolution in the animal world, from the simplest and most imperfect forms via the more fully developed animals, right up to the arrival of the human being, whom we consider the most highly developed. Does not this way of looking at evolution imply that we consider the human being the most perfect animal? In this way, however, we are not concerned with true human nature at all. Such a question, even if it remains unconscious, diminishes and sets aside any feeling we might have for our essential humanity.

Again I wish to quote Herbert Spencer, because his views on contemporary education are so characteristic, especially with the latest attempts to reform education and bring it into line with current scientific thinking. In general, such reforms are based on concepts that are alien to the human spirit. Again, Spencer represents what we encounter in practical life almost everywhere. He maintains that we should do away with the usual influences adults—parents or teachers—have on children. According to him, we have inherited the bad habit of becoming angry when a child has done something wrong. We punish children and make them aware of our displeasure. In other words, our reaction is not linked directly to what the child has done. The child may have left things strewn all over the room and we, as educators, may become angry when seeing it. To put it drastically, we might even hit the child. Now, what is the causal link (and the scientific researcher always looks for causal links) between hitting the child and the untidy child? There is none.

Spencer therefore suggests that, to educate properly, we should become “missionaries of causal processes.” For example, if we see a boy playing with fire by burning little pieces of paper in a flame, we should be able to understand that he does this because of his natural curiosity. We should not worry that he might burn himself or even set fire to the house; rather, we should recognize that he is acting out of an instinct of curiosity and allow him—with due caution, of course—to burn himself a little, because then, and only then, will he experience the causal connection. Following methods like this, we establish causal links and become missionaries of causal processes.

When you meet educational reformers, you hear the opinion that this principle of causality is the only one possible. Any open-minded person will reply that, as long as we consider the intellectualistic natural scientific approach the only right one, this principle of causality is also the only correct approach. As long as we adhere to accepted scientific thinking, there is no alternative in education. But, if we are absolutely truthful, where does all this lead when we follow these methods to their logical extremes? We completely fetter human beings, with all their powers of thinking and feeling, to natural processes. Thoughts and feelings become mere processes of nature, bereft of their own identity, mere products of unconscious, compulsory participation. If we are considered nothing more than a link in the chain of natural necessity, we cannot free ourselves in any way from nature’s bonds.

We have been opposed by people who, in all good faith, are convinced that the ordinary scientific explanation of evolution can be the only correct one. They equate the origin of everything with the primeval nebulae, comprehensible only through the laws of aeromechanics. They equate the end of everything with complete destruction by heat, resulting in a final universal grave. Into this framework they place human beings, who materialize from somewhere beyond the human sphere, destined to find that all moral aspirations, religious impulses, and ideals are no more than illusions. This may seem to be the very opposite of what I said a few minutes ago, when I said that, when seen as the last link in evolution, human beings loses their separate identity and are therefore cast out of the world order. But because human identity remains unknown, we are seen only as a part of nature. Instead of being elevated from the complexities of nature, humankind is merely added to them. We become beings that embody the causal nexus. Such an interpretation casts out the human being, and education thus places the human being into a sphere devoid of humanity; it completely loses sight of the human being as such. People fail to see this clearly, because they lack the courage. Nevertheless, we have reached a turning point in evolution, and we must summon the courage to face basic facts, because in the end our concepts will determine our life paths.

A mood of tragedy pervades such people. They have to live consciously with something that, for the majority of people, sleeps in the subconscious. This underlying mood has become the burden of today’s civilization. However, we cannot educate out of such a mood, because it eliminates the sort of knowledge from which knowledge of the human being can spring. It cannot sustain a knowledge of the human being in which we find our real value and true being—the kind of knowledge we need if we are to experience ourselves as real in the world. We can educate to satisfy the necessities of external life, but that sort of education hinders people from becoming free individuals. If we nevertheless see children grow up as free individuals, it happens despite of our education, not because of it.

Today it is not enough just to think about the world; we must think about the world so that our thinking gradually becomes a general feeling for the world, because out of such Education Based on Knowledge of the Human Being 25 feelings impulses for reform and progress grow. It is the aim of anthroposophy to present a way of knowing the world that does not remain abstract but enlivens the entire human being and becomes the proper basis for educational principles and methods.

Today we can already see the consequences of the materialistic worldview as a historical fact. Through a materialistic interpretation of the world, humankind was cast out. And the echo of what has thus lived in the thoughts of educated people for a long time can now be heard in the slogans of millions upon millions of the proletariat. The civilized world, however, shuts its eyes to the direct connection between its own worldview and the echo from the working classes. This mood of tragedy is experienced by discerning people who have decided that moral ideas and religious impulses are an illusion and that humanity exists only between the reality’s nebulous beginning and its ultimate destruction by heat. And we meet this same mood again in the views of millions of workers, for the only reality in their philosophy is economic processes and problems.

According to the proletarian view of life, nothing is more important than economics—economic solutions of the past, labor and production management, the organization of buying and selling, and how the process of production satisfies the physical needs of people. On the other hand, any moral aspirations, religious ideas, or political ideals are viewed as an illusory ideologies and considered to be an unrealistic superstructure imposed on the reality of life—the processes of material production. Consequently, something that was theoretical and, at best, a semi-religious conviction among certain educated social circles has, among the proletariat, become the determining factor for all human activity. This is the situation that humankind faces today. Under these conditions, people are trying to educate. To do this task justice, however, people must free themselves of all bias and observe and understand the present situation.

It is characteristic of intellectuality and its naturalistic worldview that it alienates people from the realities of life. From this perspective, you only need to look at earlier concepts of life. There you find ways of thinking that could very well be linked to life—thoughts that people of the past would never have seen as mere ideologies. They were rooted in life, and because of this they never treated their thinking as though it were some sort of vapor rising from the earth. Today, this attitude has invaded the practical areas of most of the educated world. People are groaning under the results of what has happened. Nevertheless, humankind is not prepared to recognize that the events in Russia today, which will spread into many other countries, are the natural result of the sort of teaching given at schools and universities. There one educates and while the people in one part of the earth lack the courage to recognize the dire consequences of their teaching, in the other part, these consequences ruthlessly push through to their extremes. We will not be able to stop this wheel from running away unless we understand clearly, especially in this domain, and place the laws of causality in their proper context. Then we shall realize that the human being is placed into a reality tht will leave him no room for maneuvering as long as he tries to comprehend the world by means of the intellect only. We will see that intellectuality, as an instrument, does not have the power of understanding realities.

I once knew a poet who, decades ago, tried to imagine how human beings would end up if they were to develop more and more in a onesided, intellectualistic way. In the district where he lived, there was a somewhat drastic idea of intellectual people; they were called “big heads” (grosskopfet). Metaphorically, they carried large heads on their shoulders. This poet took up the local expression, arguing that human development was becoming increasingly centered in the intellect and that, as a result, the human head would grow larger and larger, while the rest of the body would gradually degenerate into some sort of rudimentary organs. He predicted only rudimentary arms, ending in tiny hands, and rudimentary legs with tiny feet dangling from a disproportionately large head—until the moment when human beings would move by rolling along like balls. It would eventually come about that one would have to deal with large spheres from which arms and legs were hanging, like rudimentary appendages. A very melancholic mood came over him when he tried to foresee the consequences of one-sided intellectual development.

Looking objectively at the phenomenon of intellectuality, we can see that it alienates people from themselves and removes them from reality. Consequently, an intellectual will accept only the sort of reality that is recognized by the proletariat—the kind that cannot be denied, because one runs into it and suffers multiple bruises. In keeping with current educational systems (even those that are completely reformed), such people believe that one can draw conclusions only within the causal complex. On the other hand, if they must suffer from deprivation, again they limit their grasp of the situation to the laws of causality. Those who are deprived of the necessities of life can feel, see, and experience what is real only too well; but they are no longer able to penetrate the true causes. While distancing themselves from reality in this way, people become less and less differentiated. Metaphorically, they are, in fact, turning into the poet’s rolling sphere. We will need to gain insight into the ways our universities, colleges, and schools are cultivating the very things we abhor when we encounter them in real life, which, today, is mostly the way it is. People find fault with what they see, but little do they realize that they themselves have sown the seeds of what they criticize. The people of the West see Russia and are appalled by events there, but they do not realize that their western teachers have sown the seeds of those events.

As mentioned before, intellectuality is not an instrument with which we can reach reality, and therefore we cannot educate by its means. If this is true, however, it is important to ask whether we can use the intellect in any positive way in education, and this poignant question challenges us right at the beginning of our lecture course.

We must employ means other than those offered by intellectuality, and the best way to approach this is to look at a certain problem so that we can see it as part of a whole. What are the activities that modern society excels in, and what has become a favorite pastime? Well, public meetings. Instead of quietly familiarizing ourselves with the true nature of a problem, we prefer to attend conferences or meetings and thrash it out there, because intellectuality feels at home in such an environment. Often, it is not the real nature of a problem that is discussed, because it seems this has already been dealt with; rather, discussion continues for its own sake. Such a phenomenon is a typical by-product of intellectuality, which leads us away from the realities of a situation. And so we cannot help feeling that, fundamentally, such meetings or conferences are pervaded by an atmosphere of illusion hovering above the realities of life. While all sorts of things are happening down below at ground level, clever discourses are held about them in multifarious public conferences. I am not trying to criticize or to put down people’s efforts at such meetings; on the contrary, I find that brilliant arguments are often presented on such occasions. Usually the arguments are so convincingly built up that one cannot help but agree with two or even three speakers who, in fact, represent completely opposite viewpoints. From a certain perspective, one can agree with everything that is said. Why? Because it is all permeated by intellectuality, which is incapable of providing realistic solutions. Therefore, life might as well be allowed to assume its own course without the numerous meetings called to deal with problems. Life could well do without all these conferences and debates, even though one can enjoy and admire the ingenuity on display there.

During the past fifty or sixty years, it has been possible to follow very impressive theoretical arguments in the most varied areas of life. At the same time, if life was observed quietly and without prejudice, one could also notice that daily affairs moved in a direction opposite to that indicated by these often brilliant discussions. For example, some time ago, there were discussions in various countries regarding the gold standard, and brilliant speeches were made recommending it. One can certainly say (and I do not feel at all cynical about this but am sincere) that in various parliaments, chambers of commerce, and so on, there were erudite speeches about the benefits of the gold standard. Discriminating and intelligent experts—and those of real practical experience—proved that, if we accepted the gold standard, we would also have free trade, that the latter was the consequence of the former. But look at what really happened; in most countries that adopted the gold standard, unbearable import tariffs were introduced, which means that instead of allowing trade to flow freely it was restricted. Life presented just the opposite of what had been predicted by our clever intellectuals. One must be clear that intellectuality is alien to reality; it makes the human being into a big head. Hence it can never become the basis of a science of education, because it leads away from an understanding of the human being. Because teaching involves a relationship between human beings—between teacher and student—it must be based on human nature. This can be done only by truly knowing human nature. It is the aim of anthroposophy to offer such knowledge.

If you take what was presented to you yesterday and study it in greater depth, you will find that today’s interpretation of the world cannot lead to a real understanding of the human being. And if you go into further detail in your study of what could be only briefly described here and relate it to specific problems of life, you will find confirmation of all that was postulated in yesterday’s lecture.

Now, strangely, exponents of the modern worldview seem unaware of what it means that they cannot reach the specifically human sphere. Nor are they willing to admit that, in this sense, their interpretation of the universe is incomplete. This fact alone is more than enough to justify all the efforts made by spiritual scientific research. We can understand this all the more clearly by observing characteristic examples. When quoting Herbert Spencer, I did not intend to prove anything but only wanted to illustrate modern thinking. Spencer had already formulated his most important and fundamental ideas before Darwinism spread. So-called Darwinism aptly demonstrates how scientific, intellectualistic thinking approaches questions and problems that result from a deep-seated longing in the human soul.

Charles Darwin’s Origin of the Species, published in 1859, certainly represents a landmark in modern spiritual life. His method of observation and the way he draws conclusions are exemplary for a modern conceptual discipline. One can truly say that Darwin observed the data offered to his sense perceptions with utmost exactitude; that he searched for the underlying laws in a very masterly way; and he considering everything that such observations could bring to his powers of comprehension. Never did he allow himself to be deflected, not to the slightest degree, by his own subjectivity. He developed the habit of learning from the outer world in a way commensurate with the human intellect.

Observing life in this way, Darwin found links between the simplest, least developed organisms and the highest organism on earth—humankind itself. He contemplated the entire range of living organisms in a strictly natural scientific way, but what he observed was external and not part of the essential nature of human beings. Neither the true human being nor human spiritual aspirations were the object of his enquiry. However, when Darwin finally had to face an impasse, his reaction was characteristic; after having formulated his excellent conclusions, he asked himself, Why would it have pleased the Divine Creator any less to begin creation with a small number of relatively undeveloped and primitive organic forms, which would be allowed to develop gradually, than to miraculously conjure fully developed forms right at the beginning of the world?

But what does such a response imply? It shows that those who have made the intellectual and naturalistic outlook their own, apply it only as far as a certain inner sensing will allow and then readily accept these newly discovered boundaries without pondering too much over whether it might be possible to transcend them. In fact, they are even prepared to fall back on traditional religious concepts. In a subsequent book, The Descent of Man, Darwin did not fundamentally modify his views. Apart from being typical of the time, Darwin’s attitude reveals certain national features, characteristic of Anglo American attitudes and differing from those of Central Europe. If we look at modern life with open eyes, we can learn a great deal about such national traits.

In Germany, Darwinism was initially received with open enthusiasm, which nevertheless spread to two opposite directions. There was, first of all, Ernst Haeckel, who with youthful ardor took up Darwin’s methods of observation, which are valid only in nonhuman domains. But, according to his Germanic disposition, he was not prepared to accept given boundaries with Darwin’s natural grace. Haeckel did not capitulate to traditional religious ideas by speaking of an Almighty who had created some imperfect archetypes. Using Darwin’s excellent methods (relevant only for the non-human realm) as a basis for a new religion, Ernst Haeckel included both God and the human being in his considerations, thus deliberately crossing the boundary accepted by Darwin.

Du Bois-Reymond took up Darwinism in another way. According to his views, naturalistic intellectual thinking can be applied only to the non-human realm. He thus remained within its limits. But he did not stop there, unquestioning and guided by his feelings; he made this stopping point itself into a theory. Right there, where Darwin’s observations trail off into vagueness, Du Bois-Reymond postulated an alternative, stating that either there are limits or there are no limits. And he found two such limits.

The first limit occurs when we turn our gaze out into the world, and we are confronted with matter. The second is when we turn our gaze inward, toward experiences of our consciousness and find these also finally impenetrable. He thus concluded that we have no way of reaching the supra-sensory, and made this into a theory: one would have to rise to the level of “supernaturalism,” the realm where religion may hold sway, but science has nothing to do with what belongs to this religious sphere. In this way, Du Bois-Reymond leaves everyone free to supplement, according to personal needs, everything confirmed by natural science with either mystical or traditionally accepted forms of religious beliefs. But he insists that such supernatural beliefs could never be the subject of scientific scrutiny.

A characteristic difference between the people of Central Europe and those of the West is that the latter lean naturally toward the practical side of life. Consequently, they are quite prepared to allow their thoughts to trail off into what cannot be defined, as happens in practical life. Among Central Europeans, on the other hand, there is a tendency to put up with impracticalities, as long as the train of thought remains theoretically consistent, until an either/or condition has been reached. And this we see particularly clearly when fundamental issues about ultimate questions are at stake.

But there is still a third book by Darwin that deals with the expression of feeling. To those who occupy themselves with problems of the soul, this work seems to be far more important than his Origin of the Species and Descent of Man. Such people can derive great satisfaction from this book—so full of fine observations of the human expression of emotions—by allowing it to work in them. It shows that those who have disciplined themselves to observe in a natural scientific way can also attain faculties well suited for research into the soul and spiritual sphere of the human being. It goes without saying that Darwin advanced along this road only as far as his instinct would allow him to go. Nevertheless, the excellence of his observations shows that a training in natural scientific observation can also lead to an ability to go into the supra-sensory realm. This fact lies behind the hope of anthroposophic work, which, in any task that it undertakes, chooses not to depart by a hair’s breadth from the disciplined training of the natural scientific way of thinking. But, at the same time, anthroposophy wishes to demonstrate how the natural scientific method can be developed, thus transcending the practical limits established by Darwin, crossed boldly by Haeckel’s naturalism, and stated as a theory by Du Bois-Reymond. It endeavors to show how the supra-sensory world can be reached so that real knowledge of the human being can finally be attained.

The first step toward such higher knowledge does not take us directly into the world of education, which will be our central theme during the coming days. Instead, we will try to build a bridge from our ordinary conceptual and emotional life to suprasensory cognition. This can be achieved if—using ordinary cognition—we learn to apprehend the basic nature of our sense-bound interpretation of the world.

To do this, first I would like you to assume two hypotheses. Imagine that, from childhood on, the world of matter had been transparent and clear to our understanding. Imagine that the material world around us was not impermeable to our sight, but that with ordinary sensory observation and thinking we could fully penetrate and comprehend its nature. If this were the situation, we would be able to comprehend the material aspect of the mineral kingdom. We would also be able to understand the physical aspect of human nature; the human body would become completely transparent to our sight.

If such a hypothesis were reality, however, you would have to eliminate something from your mind that real life needs for its existence; you would have remove from your thinking all that we mean when we speak of love. For what is the basis of love, whether it is love for another person, for humankind in general, or for spiritual beings? Our love depends on meeting the other with forces that are completely different from those that illuminate our thinking. If transparent or abstract thoughts were to light up as soon as we met another being, then even the very first seeds of love would be destroyed immediately. We simply would be unable to engender love. You need only to remember how in ordinary life love ceases when the light of abstract thought takes over. You need only to realize how correct we are to speak of abstract thoughts as cold, how all inner warmth ceases when we approach the thinking realm. Warmth, revealing itself through love, could not come into being if we were to meet outer material life only with the intellect; love would be extinguished from our world.

Now imagine that there is nothing to prevent you from looking into your own inner structure; that, when looking inward, you could perceive the forces and weaving substances within you just as clearly as you see colors and hear tones in the outer world. If this were to happen, you would have the possibility of continuously experiencing your own inner being. However, in this case, too, you would have to eliminate something from your mind that human beings need to exist in the world as it is. What is it that lights up within when you turn your sight inward? You see remembered imagery of what you have experienced in the outer world. In fact, when looking inward, you do not see your inner being at all. You see only the reflection, or memory, of what you have experienced in the world.

On the one hand, if you consider that, without this faculty of memory, personal life would be impossible, and, on the other, consider that to perceive your own inner life you would have to eliminate your memory, then you realize the necessity of the built-in limits in our human organization. The possibility of clearly perceiving the essence of outer matter would presuppose a person devoid of love. The possibility of perpetually perceiving one’s own inner organization would presuppose a human being devoid of memory. Thus, these two hypotheses help us to realize the necessity of the two limits placed on ordinary human life and consciousness. They exist for the development of love and because human beings need personal memories for an inner life. But, if there is a path beyond these boundaries into the suprasensory world, an obvious question arise. Can we walk this path without damaging our personal life, on the one hand, and shunning a social life with others, on the other?

Anthroposophy has the courage to say that, with the ordinary established naturalistic approach, it is impossible to attain suprasensory knowledge. At the same time, however, it must ask, Is there any way that, when applied with the strict discipline of natural science, will enable us to enter suprasensory worlds? We cannot accept the notion that crossing the threshold into the supernatural world marks the limit of scientific investigation. It is the goal of anthroposophy to open a path into the suprasensory, using means equally as exact as those used by ordinary science to penetrate the sensory realm. In this way, anthroposophy merely continues along the path of modern science. Anthroposophy does not intend to rebel against present achievements, but it endeavors to bring something that is needed today and something contemporary life cannot provide from its own resources.

If we look at Darwin’s attitude as I have presented it, we might be prompted to say, If science can deal only with what is perceptible to the senses, then we have to fall back on religious beliefs to approach the suprasensory, and we simply have to accept the situation as inevitable. Such a response, however, cannot solve the fundamental, urgent human problems of our time.

In this context, I would like to speak about two characteristics of contemporary life, because, apart from supplementing what has been said, they also illuminate educational matters. They may help to illustrate how modern intellectual thinking—which is striving for absolute lucidity—is nevertheless prone to drift into the dark unconscious and instinctive domains.

If you observe people’s attitudes toward the world in past ages, you will find that ancient religion was never seen as mere faith—this happened only in later times—but that religions were based on direct experience and insight into spirit worlds. Knowledge thus gained was considered to be as real as the results of our modern natural scientific research. Only in subsequent ages was knowledge confined to what is sense perceptible, and suprasensory knowledge was, consequently, relegated to the religious realm. And so, the illusion came about that anything pertaining to metaphysical existence had to be a matter of faith. Yet, as long as religions rested on suprasensory knowledge, this knowledge bestowed great power, affecting even physical human nature. Modern civilization cannot generate this kind of moral strength for people today. When religion becomes only a matter of faith, it loses power, and it can no longer work down into our physical constitution. Although this is felt instinctively, its importance is unrecognized. This instinctive feeling and the search for revitalizing forces have found an outlet that has become a distinctive feature of our civilization; it is a part of all that we call sports.

Religion has lost the power of strengthening the human physical constitution. Therefore an instinctive urge has arisen in people to gain access to a source of strength through outward, Education Based on Knowledge of the Human Being 39 physical means only. As life tends toward polarity, we find that people instinctively want to substitute the loss of invigoration, previously drawn from his religious experiences, by cultivating sports. I have no wish to harangue against sports. Neither do I wish to belittle their positive aspects. In fact, I feel confident that these activities will eventually develop in a healthy way. Nevertheless, it must be said that sports will assume a completely different position in human life in the future, whereas today it is a substitute for religious experience. Such a statement may well seem paradoxical, but truth, today, is paradoxical, because modern civilization has drifted into so many crosscurrents.

A second characteristic of our intellectual and naturalistic civilization is that, instead of embracing life fully, it tends to lead to contradictions that destroy the soul. Thinking is driven along until it becomes entangled in chaotic webs of thought and contradictions, and the thinker remains unaware of the confusion created. For example, a young child in a certain sense will go through the various stages than humankind has passed through, from the days of primitive humanity up to our present civilization, and this fills certain naturalistic intellectuals with admiration. They observe the somewhat turned-up nostrils of a young child and the position of the eyes, which lie further apart than in later life. They observe the formation of the forehead with its characteristic curvature and also the shape of the mouth. All these features remind people of those found in primitive tribes, and so they see young children as “little savages.” Yet, at the same time, sentiments such as those expressed by Rousseau are trying to rise to the surface—sentiments that completely contradict what has just been said. When contemplating educational aims, some people prefer to “return to nature,” both from a physical and a moral aspect. But, being under the influence of an intellectual atmosphere, they soon aim at arranging educational ideas according to the principles of logic, for intellectuality will always lead to logic in thinking. Observing many illogical features in education today, they want to base it on principles of logic, which, in their eyes, are entirely compatible with a child’s natural development. Logic, however, does not meet the needs of children at all. One close look at primitive races will make one quickly realize that members of such tribes hardly apply logical thinking to their ways of life.

And so some reformers are under the illusion that they are returning to nature by introducing a logical attitude in educating the young, who are supposed to be little savages, an attitude that is completely alien to a child. In this way, adherents of Rousseau’s message find themselves caught in a strange contradiction with an intellectualistic attitude; striving toward harmony with nature does not fit with an intellectualistic outlook. And, as far as the education of the will is concerned, the intellectualistic thinker is completely out of touch with reality. According to this way of thinking, a child should above all be taught what is useful in life. For example, such people never tire of pointing out the impracticability of our modern mode of dress, which does not satisfy the demands of utility. They advocate a return to more natural ways, saying that we should concentrate on the utilitarian aspects of life. The education of girls is especially subjected to sharp criticism by such reformers.

So now they are faced with a paradox; did primitive human beings—the stage young children supposedly recapitulate—live a life of utility? Certainly not. According to archeologists, they developed neither logical thinking nor utilitarian living. Their essential needs were satisfied through the help of inborn instincts. But what captivated the interest of primitive people? Adornment. They did not wear clothing for practical reasons, but through a longing for self-adornment. Whatever the members of such tribes chose to wear—or not to wear, in order to display the patterns on their skin—was not intended for utility, but as an expression of a yearning for beauty as they understood it. Similar traits can be found in the young child.

Those who perceive these contradictions and imperfections in modern life will be ready to look for their causes. They will increasingly recognize how lopsided and limited the generally accepted intellectualistic, naturalistic way of thinking is, which does not see the human being as a whole at all. Usually only our waking state is considered, whereas in reality the hours spent in sleep are just as much part of human life as those of daytime consciousness. You may object by saying that natural science has closely examined the human sleeping state as well, and indeed there exist many interesting theories about the nature of sleep and of dreams. But these premises were made by people while awake, not by investigators who were able to enter the domains of sleep. If people who are interested in education think in rational and logical ways and in terms of what is practical and useful in life, and if, on the other hand, they feel pulled in the direction of Rousseau’s call to nature, they will become victims of strange contradictions. What they really do is pass on to children all that seems of value to themselves as adults. They try to graft onto the child something that is alien to the child’s nature. Children really do seek for beauty—though not in the ways suggested by Rousseau—which for them expresses neither goodness nor utility, but simply exists for its own sake.

In the waking state, human beings not only have consciousness but also experience an inner life and actively participate in life. During sleep, on the other hand, people loses their ordinary consciousness, and consequently they examine sleep while awake. A proper study of this phenomenon, however, requires more than abstract theories. Entering sleep in full consciousness is essential for understanding it.

By experiencing both wonder and astonishment when studying the phenomena of sleep, a serious and unbiased investigator is not likely to advance in ways that, for example, Greek philosophy considered important. According to an ancient Greek adage, every philosophy—as a path toward cognition—begins with wonder. But this indicates only the beginning of the search for insight. One must move on. One must progress from wonder to knowledge.

However, the first step toward suprasensory knowledge must be taken not with the expectation of being able to enter the spiritual world directly, but with the intent of building a bridge from the ordinary sensory world to suprasensory knowledge. One way of achieving this is to apply the discipline we use to observe the phenomena of the sensory world to the phenomena we encounter from the realms of sleep and dreams. Modern people have certainly learned to observe accurately, but in this case it is not simply a matter of observing accurately. To gain insight, one must be able to direct observations toward specific areas.

I would like to give you an example of how this can be done when studying dream phenomena, which infiltrate our waking life in strange and mysterious ways.

Occasionally one still encounters people who have remained aware of the essential difference between waking and sleeping, but their awareness has become only a dim and vague feeling. Nevertheless, they are aware that an awake person is an altogether different from one who is asleep. Therefore, someone tells them that sleep is a waste of time and sleepers are idle and lazy, these simple minds will say that, as long as we sleep, we are free from sin. Thus, they try to say that people, whom they consider sinful while awake, are innocent while asleep. A good instinctive wisdom is hidden in this somewhat naive attitude. But to reach clarity, we need to train our own observation. I would like to give you an example.

Surely there are some here—perhaps every one of you—who have had dreams reminiscent of what might have happened to you in daily life. For example, you may have dreamed that you were taken to a river and that you had to get across somehow. So you searched for a boat, which, after a great deal of trouble, you managed to get hold of. Then you had to work hard to row across. In your dream you might have felt the physical exertion of plying the oars, until at last you managed to get across, just as you might have in ordinary life. There are many such kinds of dreams. Their contents are definite reminiscences of our physical, sensory lives. But there are also other kinds of dreams that do not echo waking life. For instance, someone again may dream that it is necessary to get across a river. Wondering how this urge could possibly be fulfilled, the dreamer is suddenly able to spread wings and—presto!—simply fly across and land safely on the opposite bank. This sort of dream is certainly not a memory of something that could happen in waking life, because, to my knowledge, this is hardly the way ordinary mortals transport themselves across a river in real life. Here we have something that simply does not exist in physical life.

Now, if we accurately observe the relationship between sleep and being awake, we discover something very interesting; we find that dreams in which we experience the toil and exhaustion of waking life, which reflect waking life, cause us to awake tired. On waking, our limbs feel heavy and tiredness seems to drag on throughout the day. In other words, if strains and pains of a life of drudgery reappear in our dreams, we awake weakened rather than refreshed. But now observe the effects of the other kind of dream; if you managed to fly—weightless and with hearty enthusiasm, with wings you do not possess in ordinary life—once you have flown across your river, you awake bright and breezy, and your limbs feel light. We need to observe how these differing dreams affect the waking life with the same accuracy we use to make observations in mathematics or physics. We know quite well that we would not get very far in these two subjects without it. Yet dreams do not generally become the object of exact observations and, consequently, no satisfactory results are achieved in this field. And such a situation hardly encourages people to strive for greater powers of insight into these somewhat obscure areas of life.

This is not just a case of presenting isolated glimpses of something that seems to confirm previous indications. The more we ponder over the relevant facts, the more the reciprocal links between sleep and waking life become evident. For example, there are dreams in which you may see some very tasty food that you then enjoy with a hearty appetite. You will find that usually, after having thus eaten in your dreams, you wake up without much appetite. You may not even eat during the following day, as though there were something wrong with your digestion. On the other hand, if in your dream you had the experience of speaking to an angel, and if you entered fully into a dialogue, you will awake with a keen edge to your appetite, which may persist during the whole day. Needless to say, partaking of food in one’s dream represents a memory from waking life, for in the spiritual world one neither eats nor drinks. Surely you will accept this without further proof. Therefore, enjoying food in a dream is a reminiscence of physical life, whereas speaking to an angel—an event unlikely to occur to people these days—cannot be seen as an echo of daily life.

Such an observation alone could show even an abstract thinker that something unknown happens to us in sleep—something that nevertheless plays into our daily lives. It is wrong to surmise that it is impossible to gain exact and clear concepts in this realm. Is it not a clear discovery that dreams echoing earthly reality—the kind so popular among naturalistic poets, ever eager to imitate earthly life, never ready to enter the suprasensory realms—have an unhealthy effect on our waking lives? If impressions from ordinary life reappear in dreams, these dreams have an injurious effect upon our health. On the other hand, if unrealistic dream images appear—the kind scornfully dismissed as mystical rubbish by an intellectualistic philistine—they make us feel bright and fresh upon awaking in the morning. It is certainly possible to observe the strange interplay and the reciprocal effects between dreaming and sleeping.

And so we can say that something independent of the human physical condition must be happening during sleep, the effects of which we can observe in the person’s physical organism. Dreams cause astonishment and wonder to ordinary consciousness, because they elude us in our waking state. The more you try to collect such examples, the more you will find a real connection between the human sleeping and waking state.

You only need to look closely at dreams to see that they are different from our experiences during waking life. When awake, we are able to link or separate mental images at will, but we cannot do this when dreaming. Dream images are woven as objective appearances beyond the influence of our will. In dreams, the activities of the soul become passive, numb, and immobile.

If we study dreams from yet another aspect, we find that they can reveal other secret sides of human existence. Observe, for instance, your judgment of people with whom you may have a certain relationship. You might find that you keep your full inner feelings of sympathy or antipathy from arising to consciousness, and that your judgment of people is colored by various facts, such as their titles or positions in social life. However, when you dream about such a person, something unexpected may happen; you may find yourself giving someone a good beating. Such behavior, so completely at odds with your attitude in waking life, allows you to glimpse the more hidden regions of your sympathies and antipathies, some of which you would never dare admit, even to yourself, but which the dream conjures up in your soul. Subconscious images are placed before the dreaming soul. They are relatively easy to watch, but if you deeply investigate someone’s inexplicable moods of ill temper or euphoria that seem unrelated to outer circumstances, you find that they, too, were caused by dreams, completely forgotten by those concerned. Experiences in sleep and the revelations of dreams work into the unconscious and may lead to seemingly inexplicable moods. Unless we consider this other side of life, the hidden domain of our sleep life, by making exact investigations, we cannot understand human life in its wholeness.

All these reciprocal effects, however, happen without human participation. Yet it is possible to lift what happens subconsciously and involuntarily into a state of clear consciousness equal to that of someone engaged in mathematics or other scientific investigations. When achieving this, one’s powers of observation are enhanced beyond the indeterminate relationship between waking and sleeping to the fully conscious states of imagination, inspiration, and intuition.

Only through these three capacities is it possible to attain true knowledge of the human being. What life vaguely hints at through the phenomenon of sleep can be developed in full consciousness by applying methods given by anthroposophy, which strive toward a real knowledge of the universe and the human being.

When trying to understand the world through a natural scientific interpretation of its phenomena, whether through cognition or through everyday life, people tend to consider conditions only as they meet them in the moment. Such a statement might seem incorrect to those who merely look at the surface of things, but as we proceed, it will become evident that this is indeed true. We have grown accustomed to investigate the human physical organism with the accepted methods of biology, physics, and anatomy, but (though this may appear wrong at first) in the results we find only what the present moment reveals to us.

For example, we might observe the lungs of a child, of an adult, and of an older person, in their stages from the beginning to the end of life, and we reach certain conclusions. But we do not really penetrate the element of time at all in this way, because we limit ourselves to spatial observations, which we then invest with qualities of time. We are doing the same thing, to use a simile, when we read the time by looking at a clock. We note the position of the hands in the morning, for example, and positions in space indicate the time for us. We may look at the clock again at noon and deduce the passage of time from the spatial changes of its hands. We take our bearing in the course of time from the movements of the clock’s hands from point to point in space. This has become our way of judging time in everyday life. But through this method we cannot experience the true nature of time. Yet only by penetrating time with the same awareness we use to experience space can we correctly assess human life between birth and death. I would like to illustrate these theoretical remarks with examples to show the importance of living into the dimension of time, especially if you want to practice the art of education.

Let us take as our example a child who is full of reverence toward adults. Anyone with a healthy instinct would consider such an attitude in a child as something wholesome, especially if such reverence is justified, as indeed it should be on the part of the adult. However, people usually think no further, but merely attribute a feeling of reverence toward adults to certain aspects of childhood and leave it at that. But we cannot recognize the importance of such reverence unless we include the entire course of a human life in our considerations.

As we grows older, we may have the opportunity to observe old people. We may discover that some of them have the gift of bringing soul comfort to those who need it. Often it is not what they have to say that acts as balm on a suffering soul, but just the tone of voice or the way they speak. If now you follow this old person’s life back to childhood, you find that, as a child, that individual was full of reverence and respect for adults. Naturally, this attitude of reverence will disappear in later life, but only on the surface. Deep down, it will gradually transform, only to reemerge later as the gift of bringing solace and elevation to suffering and troubled minds.

One could also say it this way: If a young child has learned to pray and has learned to develop an inner mood of prayer, this mood will enter the subconscious and transform into the capacity of blessing in the ripeness of old age. When we meet old people whose mere presence radiates blessing upon those around them, you find that in their childhood they experienced and developed this inner mood of prayer. Such a transformation can be discovered only if one has learned to experience time as concretely as we generally experience space. We must learn to recognize the time element with the same awareness with which we experience space. Time must not be experienced only in spatial terms, as when we look at a clock. What I have been trying to illustrate regarding the moral aspects of life needs to become very much a part of our concept of the human being—certainly if we are going to develop a true art of education. I would like to elaborate this in greater detail.

If we compare human beings with the animals, we find that from the moment of birth, animals (especially the higher species) are equipped with all the faculties needed for living. A chick leaving its shell does not need to learn to walk and is immediately adapted to its surroundings. Each animal’s organs are firmly adapted to the specific needs of its species. This is not at all true, however, of human beings, who come into this world completely helpless. Only gradually do we develop the capacities and skills needed for life. This is because the most important period in our earthly life is between the end of childhood and the beginning of old age. This central period of maturity is the most important feature of human life on earth. During that time, we adapt our organism to external life by gaining aptitudes and skills. We develop a reciprocal relationship to the outer world, based on our range of experience. This central period, when human organs maintain the ability to evolve and adapt, is completely missing in the life of animals. The animal is born in a state that is fundamentally comparable to an old person, whose organic forms have become rigid. If you want to understand the nature of an animal’s relationship to its surroundings, look at it in terms of our human time of old age.

Now we can ask whether an animal shows the characteristics of old age in its soul qualities. This is not the case, because in an animal there is also the opposite pole, which counteracts this falling into old age, and this is the animal’s capacity of reproduction. The ability to reproduce, whether in the human or animal kingdom, always engenders forces of rejuvenation. While animal fall prey to the influences of aging too quickly on the one hand, on the other they are saved from premature aging because of the influx of reproductive forces until maturity.

If you can observe an animal or an animal species without preconceived ideas, you will conclude that, when the animal is capable of reproduction, it has reached a stage equivalent to that of old age in a human being. The typical difference in the human being is the fact that both old age and childhood (when the child’s reproductive system is slowly maturing) are placed on either end of the human central period, and during this period the human organism remains flexible, enabling human beings to relate and adapt individually to the environment. Through this arrangement, a human being will be a child at the right time, then leave childhood at the right time to enter maturity. And a person leaves maturity when it is time to enter old age.

If you look at human life from this aspect of time, you also understand certain abnormalities. You may encounter people who (if I may put it this way) slip prematurely into old age. I am not thinking so much of the obvious features typically associated with old age, such as grey hair or baldness; even a bald-headed person may still be childish. I am thinking of the more subtle indications, detectable only by more intimate observations. One could call such features the signs of a senile soul life, manifesting in people who should still be in the central period of flexibility and adaptability. But the opposite may also happen; a person may be unable to leave the stage of childhood at the right time and carry infantile features into the central stage of life. In this case, strange things may happen in the life of that person—the symptoms of which we can only touch on today. When we include the time element in our picture of the human being, we can diagnose aberrations in human behavior.

We know that, as we approach old age, we lose flexibility especially in the head. Consequently, all the capacities that we have acquired during life attain more of a soul and spiritual quality. But this is possible only at the expense of the head as a whole assuming certain animal-like qualities. From a physical point of view, an old person goes through conditions similar to those of a newborn animal. To a certain extent one becomes “animalized.” Thus old people gain something that they may preserve for the rest of their lives, provided their education was right. Their spiritual, soul experiences of the outer world no longer enter fully into the human organization. The cranium becomes ossified and fixed. Old people thus depend more on soul and spiritual links with the surrounding world. They are no longer able to transform outer events into inward qualities as well as they once did. Thus, a kind of animalization of the upper regions takes place.

It is possible for this animalization of the head structure to occur prematurely—during the middle period of life—but because we remain human despite such a tendency, we do not encounter external symptoms. Rather, we must look for certain changes in the soul realm. If the characteristic relationship of the older person to the outer world manifests prematurely—and this can happen even during childhood—a person’s experiences is drawn too much into the physical system, since the general flexibility of the rest of the human organization, typical of the younger age, naturally retains the upper hand. In this case, a person will experience inwardly, and too early, a relationship to the outer world typical of old age. Interaction between inner and outer world would thus be linked too much to the physical organization, bringing about soul properties more like that in the animal world than in normal human beings.

One can say (if you want to express it in this way) that animals have the advantage of a certain instinct over human beings, an instinct that links them more directly and intimately to the environment than is true of the normal human being. It is not simply a myth, but completely reflects the peculiarities of animal life, that certain animals will leave a place that is in danger of a natural catastrophe. Animals are gifted with certain prophetic instincts of self-preservation. It is also true that animals experience far more intensely the changing seasons than do human beings. They can sense the approaching time for migration, because they have an intimate and instinctive relationship with the environment. If we could look into an animal’s soul, we would find—although entirely unconsciously—an instinctive wisdom of life that manifests as the animal’s ability to live entirely within the manifold processes and forces of nature.

Now, if a person falls victim to encroaching age too early, this animal-like instinctive experience of the surroundings begins to develop, though in a sublimated form because it is lifted into the human sphere. Lower forms of clairvoyance, such as telepathy, telekinesis and so on—described correctly or wrongly—occur abnormally in human life and are simply the result of this premature aging in the central period of life. When this process of aging occurs at the proper time, people experience it in a healthy way, whereas if it appears in the twenties, a person gains clairvoyance of a low order. The symptoms of premature aging represent an abnormality in life that does not manifest outwardly but in a more hidden way. If these forms of lower clairvoyance were studied from the aspect of premature aging, a people would gain far deeper insight into these phenomena. This is possible, however, only when people observe life in a more realistic way. It is not good enough to investigate what we see with our eyes at the present moment. People must learn to recognize indications in these symptoms of a time shift from later to earlier stages of life.

We will see in the next few days how healing processes can occur through exact insight into human nature. It is possible that a kind of animalization could manifest not as an outwardly visible aging process but as a close, instinctive relationship to the environment encroaching on the lower regions of the human being and otherwise characteristic of an animal. The resulting phenomena of telepathy, telekinesis, and so on do not become less interesting because they are recognized for what they really are—the intrusion of a later stage of life upon an earlier, not manifestations of the spirit world. By developing time consciousness, we can fathom the very depths of human nature. To live in the dimension of time is to survey the course of time until we can see into both the past and future from the present moment.

You can get a sense of how present-day observation (though externally it may appear otherwise) is very remote from this more inward means of observation, which is more concurrent with time and its flow. Inadequate interpretation of what we encounter in life is the result of modern methods of observation. Contemporary scientific explanations and their effects on life are full of anemic interpretations.

Looking at the course of human life, we discover that the opposite of what we just described can also happen when childishness is carried into maturity. It is characteristic of children that they not only experience the external world less consciously than adults, but their experiences are also much more intimately connected with metabolic changes. When children see colors, their impressions strongly affect the metabolic processes; a child takes in outer sensory impressions all the way into the metabolism. It is not a mere metaphor to say that children digest their sensory impressions, because their digestion responds to all of their outer experiences. An old person develops certain animal characteristics within the physical, but a child’s entire life is filled with a sensitivity toward the vegetative organic processes that also affect the child’s soul life. Unless we are aware of this, we cannot understand a child’s nature.

In later years, human beings leave the digestive and metabolic processes more or less on their own; experiences of the external world are more independent of those processes. They do not allow their soul and spiritual reactions toward the outer world to affect the metabolism to the extent that a child does. The response of adults to their surroundings is not accompanied by the same liveliness of glandular secretion as in children.

Children take in outer impressions as if they were edible substances, but adults leave their digestion to itself, and this alone makes them adults under normal circumstances. But there are cases where certain vegetative and organic forces, which are properly at work during childhood, continue to work in an adult, affecting the psyche as well. In this case, other abnormal symptoms are also liable to occur. An example will make this clear. Imagine, for example, a girl who comes to love a dog that has made a deep impression on her nature. If she has carried childishness into later life, this tenderness will work right into the metabolism. Organic processes that correspond to her feelings of affection will be established. In this situation, digestive processes occur not only after eating or as the result of normal physical activities, but certain areas within the digestive system will develop a habit of secreting and regenerating substances in response to the strong emotions evoked by the love for the animal. The dog will become indispensable to the well-being of her vegetative system. And what happens if the dog dies? The connection in outer life is broken; the organic processes continue by force of inertia, but they are no longer satisfied. Her feelings miss something they had gotten used to, and inner troubles and strange disturbances may follow. A friend may suggest getting a new dog to restore the previous state of health, since the inner organic processes would again find satisfaction through external experiences. We will see later, however, that there are better ways to cure such an abnormality, but anyone may reasonably try to solve the problem this way.

There are of course many other examples, less drastic than a deep affection for a dog. If an adult has not outgrown certain childhood forces that absorb external impressions into the digestive system, and if that adult can no longer satisfy this abnormal habit, certain cravings within the vegetative organism will result. But there are other things that may have been loved and lost that cannot be replaced; then a person remains dissatisfied, morose, and psychosomatic. One must try to find the true causes of the seemingly inexplicable symptoms that arise from the depths of the unconscious. There are people who can sense what needs to be done to alleviate suffering caused by unsatisfied emotions that affect inner organic processes. They manage to coax and to bring to consciousness what the patient wants to recall, and in this way they can help a great deal.

Because of the present condition of our civilization, there are many who have not progressed from childhood to adulthood in the normal way, and the ensuing symptoms, both light and serious, have been widely noted. Whereas this led naturally to conversations in ordinary life among helpful, interested people, the situation has stimulated—in many respects rightly so—psychological research, and a new scientific terminology has sprung up. The patient’s psyche is examined through investigation of dreams or by freely or involuntarily giving oneself away. In this way, unfulfilled urges arise from the subconscious into consciousness. This new branch of science is called psychology or psychoanalysis, the science of probing the hidden regions of the soul. However, we are not dealing with “hidden regions of the soul,” but with the remains of vegetative organic processes left behind and craving satisfaction. When thwarted desires have been diagnosed, one can help patients readapt, and here lies the value of psychoanalysis.

When judging these things, anthroposophy, or spiritual science, finds itself in a difficult position. It has no quarrel with the findings of natural science; on the contrary, spiritual science is quite prepared to recognize and accept whatever remains properly within its realm. Similarly, spiritual science accepts psychoanalysis within its proper limits. But spiritual science tries to see all problems and questions within the widest context, encompassing the entire universe and the whole human being. It feels it is necessary to broaden the arbitrary restrictions laid down by natural science, which even today often investigates in an unprofessional and superficial way. Anthroposophy has no wish and no intention to quarrel and only puts what is stated in a lopsided way into a wider perspective. Yet this approach is distasteful and unacceptable to those who prefer to wear blinders, and, consequently, furious attacks are made against anthroposophy. Spiritual science must defend itself against an imbalanced attitude, but it will never be aggressive. This has to be said regarding the present currents of thought, as we find in psychoanalysis.

A person may draw the last period of life too much into middle age and, with it, experience abnormal relationships with the external world, manifesting as lower forms of clairvoyance, such as telepathy. In this case, one’s horizon extends beyond the normal human scope in an animal-like fashion. It is important to distinguish the two opposing situations, since a person may also move in the other direction by pushing what properly belongs to childhood into later periods of life. As a result, one becomes enmeshed too strongly with the physical organism, with the result that organic surges swamp the psyche, causing disturbances and inner abnormalities. Such a person suffers from a relationship that is too close to one’s own organic system. This relationship has been diagnosed by psychoanalysis, which should nevertheless direct its attention toward the human organs to understand the roots of this problem.

If we desire a comprehensive knowledge of the human being, it is absolutely necessary to include the entire human life between birth and death in our considerations. It is essential to focus on the effects of passing time and to inwardly live with and experience those effects. Spiritual science pursues knowledge of the whole human being by penetrating the suprasensory, using its own specific methods and fully considering the time element, which is generally ignored completely in our present stage of civilization. Imagination, inspiration and intuition, which are the specific methods of spiritual scientific work, must be built on an experience of time.

Imagination, inspiration and intuition, the ways leading to suprasensory cognition, should not be seen as faculties beyond ordinary human life but as a continuation, or extension, of ordinary human capacities. Spiritual science dismisses the bias that maintains we can attain this sort of cognition only through some special grace; spiritual science holds that we can become conscious of certain faculties lying deep within us and that we have the power to train them. The usual kind of knowledge gotten through modern scientific training and in ordinary practical life must certainly be transcended.

What happens when we try to comprehend the world around us—not as scientifically trained specialists but as ordinary people? We are surrounded by colors, sounds, varying degrees of warmth, and so on, all of which I would like to call the tapestry of the sensory world. We surrender to these sensory impressions and weave them without thoughts. If you think about the nature of memories rising in your soul, you will find that they are the result of sensory impressions woven into our thoughts. Our whole life depends on imparting this texture of sensory impressions and thoughts to our soul life. But what really happens? Look at the diagram. Let the line a to b represent the tapestry of the sensory world around us, consisting of colors, sounds, smells, and so on. We give ourselves up to our observation, this tapestry of the senses, and weave its impressions with our thinking (indicated here by the wavy line).

When living in our senses, we unite all our experiences with our thoughts. We interpret the sensory stimuli through thinking. But when we project our thoughts into our surroundings, this tapestry becomes a barrier for us, a metaphorical canvas upon which we draw and paint all our thoughts, but which we cannot penetrate. We cannot break through this incorporeal wall with ordinary consciousness. As the thoughts are stopped by this canvas, they are inscribed upon it.

The only possibility of penetrating this wall is gained by raising one’s consciousness to the state of imagination through systematic and regular meditation exercises. It is equally possible to undergo an inner training in meditation as a method of research in an outwardly directed study of chemistry or astronomy. If you read my book How to Know Higher Worlds and the second part of An Outline of Esoteric Science, you can convince yourselves that, if you want to reach the final goal, the methods for such meditative exercises are certainly not simple and less time-consuming than those needed to study astronomy or chemistry. On the other hand, it is relatively easy to read books giving information about such exercises and, using one’s common sense, examine the truths of spiritual scientific research. You do not have to take these on authority. Even if you cannot investigate the spiritual world yourself, it is possible to test given results by studying the specific methods employed.

Meditative practice is based on freeing ourselves from outer sensory impressions. In meditation, we do not surrender to sensory impressions, but to the life of thinking. However, by dwelling again and again in meditation on a given thought or mental image—one that is easily and fully comprehensible—we gradually bring our life of thought to such a strength and inner substance that we learn to move in it with the same certainty we have in our sensory impressions. You have all experienced the difference between the striking effects of outer sensory impressions and the rather limp and pale world of our thoughts during ordinary consciousness. Sensory impressions are intense and alive. We give ourselves up to them. Thoughts, on the other hand, turn pale and become abstract and cold. But the very core of meditating is learning, through regular practice, to imbue thoughts with the same intensity and life that normally fills our sensory experiences. If we succeed in grasping a meditation with the same inner intensity that we experience through the stimulus of a color, for example, then we have enlivened, in the right way, the underlying thoughts of a meditation. But all this must happen with the same inner freedom employed in the normal weaving of thoughts or ordinary sense perceptions. Just as we do not allow ourselves to be taken over by nebulous moods or mystical dreaming, or become fatuous visionaries when observing the external world, we must not lose our firm ground when meditating in the right way. The same sane mood with which we perceive the world around us must also take hold when we meditate.

This attitude of taking outer sensory perceptions as an example for one’s conduct when meditating is characteristic of the anthroposophic method. There are plenty of vague mystics who disparage sensory perceptions as inferior and advise leaving them behind. They claim that, when you meditate, you should reach a state of mystic dreaming. The result, of course, is a condition of half sleep, certainly not meditation. Spiritual science pursues the opposite goal, considering the quality, intensity, and liveliness of sensory perception as an example to be followed until the meditator moves inwardly with the same freedom with which one encounters sensory perceptions. We need not fear we will become dried up bores. The meditative content (which we experience objectively in meditative practice) saves us from that. Because of the inner content that we experience while freeing ourselves from ordinary life, there is no need to enter a vague, trance-like state while meditating.

Correct meditation allows us to gain the ability to move freely in our life of thinking. This in turn redeems the thoughts from their previous abstract nature; they become image-like. This happens in full consciousness, just as all healthy thinking takes place. It is essential that we do not lose full consciousness, and this distinguishes meditation from a hallucinatory state. Those who give themselves up to hallucinations, becoming futile enthusiasts or visionaries, relinquish common sense; on the other hand, those who wish to follow the methods advocated here must make sure common sense accompanies all their weaving thought imagery. And what does this lead to? Though fully awake, we experience the pictorial quality of the dream world. The significant difference between imagination and dream images is that we are completely passive when experiencing the imagery of dreams. If they arise from the subconscious and enter our waking state, we can observe them only after they have occurred. When practicing imagination, on the other hand, we initiate them ourselves; we create images that are not mere fantasy, but differ in intensity and strength from the fantasy as do dream images. The main point is that we initiate the images ourselves, and this frees us from the illusion that they are a manifestation of the external world. Those given up to hallucinations, however, always believe that what comes to them represents reality, because they know that they did not create what they see. This is the cause of the deception. Those who practice imagination through meditation cannot possibly believe that the images they create represent external reality. The first step toward suprasensory cognition depends on freeing ourselves from the illusion that the images we have created—having the same intensity as those of the dream world—are real. This, however, is obvious, because the meditator remains fully aware of having initiated them in complete freedom. Only the insane would mistake them for outer reality.

Now, in the next step in meditation we acquire the ability to allow these images to vanish without a trace. This is not as easy as one might expect, because, unless the one meditating has created them in full freedom, the images become quite fascinating and fix themselves on the mind like parasites. One has to become strong enough to let such pictures disappear at will. This second step is equally important as the first. In ordinary life, we need the ability to forget; otherwise we would have to go through life with the total of all our memories. Similarly, the complete extinction of meditative images is as important as their initial creation.

When we have thoroughly practiced these exercises, we have done something to our soul life that might be compared to the strengthening of muscles through repeated bending and stretching. By learning to weave and form images and then to obliterate them—and all this is done in complete freedom of the will—we have performed an important training of the soul. We will have developed the faculty of consciously forming images that, under normal circumstances, appear only in dreams, during a state that escapes ordinary consciousness and is confined to the time between falling asleep and awaking. Now, however, this condition has been induced in full consciousness and freedom. Training in imagination means training the will to consciously create images and to consciously remove them from the mind. And through this, we acquire yet another faculty.

Everyone has this faculty automatically—not during sleep, but at the moments of awaking and falling asleep. It is possible that what was experienced between these two points in time comes to us as remnants of dreams, often experienced as though they come from the beyond. Naturally, it is equally possible that what we encounter on awaking surprises us so much that all memories of dreams sink below the threshold of consciousness. In general, we can say that, because dream imaginations are experienced involuntarily, something chaotic and erratic that normally lies beyond consciousness finds its way to us. If, while fully awake, we develop the ability of creating and of obliterating imaginations, we may reach a condition of emptied consciousness. This is like a new awakening, then, from beyond the tapestry of the sensory world; spiritual entities pass through the tapestry to reach us on paths smoothed by the meditation content (see the circle in the diagram). While thus persevering in emptied consciousness, we push through the barrier of the senses, and images come to us from beyond the sensory world, carried by inspiration. We enter the world beyond the sensory world. Through imagination, we prepare for inspiration, which involves the ability to experience consciously something that happens unconsciously at the moment of awaking. Right at the moment of awaking, something from beyond our waking soul life enters consciousness, so that something beyond the conscious sensory world enters us if, through imagination, we have trained our soul as described.

In this way, we experience the spiritual world beyond the world of the senses. The faculties of suprasensory cognition are extensions of those naturally given to us in ordinary life. It is one of the main tasks of spiritual science to train and foster the development of these higher faculties. And grasping the time element in human life is fundamental to such development.

If you look at the preparatory exercises for imagination, inspiration, and intuition as given in How to Know Higher Worlds or An Outline of Esoteric Science, you find that everything said there aims at one thing: learning to experience the flow of time. The human being goes through the various stages of experience in the world, first as a child, then as a mature person, and finally as an old person; otherwise, one may suffer from an abnormal overlap of one stage into the other. It is not imagination itself, but the meditative preparation, that should give the possibility of developing the full potential and of learning how to give ourselves to the world out of the fullness of life. To this end harmony must be brought about between the specific contributions to the world of childhood, middle age, and old age. These must flow together harmoniously into a worldview capable of reaching the spiritual world. Human beings in their wholeness, which includes the domain of time, must be actively engaged in work in the world. To achieve a worldview that reaches beyond the barriers of the sensory world, human beings must preserve the freshness of experience proper to youth; the clarity of thought and the freedom of judgment proper to the central period of life; and the power of loving devotion toward life that can reach perfection in old age. All these qualities are a necessary preparation for the proper development of imagination, inspiration, and intuition.

As described in the previous lecture, cognition through imagination can be attained by lifting into consciousness what is active subconsciously and involuntarily in dreaming. To be more precise, it is the activity behind our dreaming and not the dreaming itself with its content that is lifted into consciousness, since if this were to happen, we should remain in the realm of unreality. (For the moment I will leave this activity behind our dreaming undefined.) It is this activity—lifted into consciousness by controlled will power—that becomes the basis for cognition through imagination, and this conscious activity is very different from that of dreaming. In dream activity, because we are not active participants, we have the feeling that our experiences are real. But when we lift the activity that produces dreams into consciousness, we realize very well that we are seeing images we ourselves made. It is this awareness that saves us from falling into hallucinations instead of doing research through spiritual science.

This first meditative activity of creating images must now be superseded by a second step that involves obliterating those images, thus leading to empty consciousness. If you have been able, in full consciousness and under full control, to enhance your soul powers in this way, you will have in fact entered the spiritual world. You will then be able to engage in an activity that, being solely soul and spirit, is independent of the physical body; you no longer perceive with your physical organs. While thinking becomes freed from the body, your conscious experience becomes purely spiritual.

Yesterday I showed that, for spiritual scientific investigators, dreamlike experience is not to be seen as a model for spiritual perception. Only fully controlled experiences, similar to those of our sensory perceptions, are valid. Obviously there is no possibility of sensory perception in suprasensory cognition. Nevertheless, we can see definite capacities in our ability to move freely when surrounded by sensory perceptions and in our independence from our personal makeup while perceiving. An example will clarify my meaning.

Let us look at one of our most characteristic and representative sensory organs, the human eye. We recognize the relative independence of this organ by the way it rests in its cavity, attached to the remaining organism by insubstantial links. Forgetting for the moment what happens in the act of seeing, we find another, more external process. Near the eye are the lachrymal glands, which, while we are awake, continually secrete a liquid composed mainly of salt water. This liquid flushes the whole eyeball, especially the part exposed to the outer air when the eye is open. Through this glandular activity, the eye is constantly bathed so that dust entering the eye from the outside is washed away through tear ducts entering the nose. This process, which forms part of the normal function of our organ of sight, is hidden from ordinary consciousness.

Now this wisely ordained (though completely unconscious) activity of the lachrymal glands can be accelerated by the various stimuli of pressure or cold, for example, or through exhaustion, either in the eye or in the organism in general. The lachrymal glands thus become more active, and the cause of secretion and the secretion of tears itself begins to enter our consciousness. However, a further increase of this activity may occur in a very different way; when sadness makes us weep, tears flow as a result of a purely emotional stress or because our feelings have been deeply moved. Here we see how, under normal circumstances, the lachrymal liquid is constantly secreted in complete unconsciousness, and how outer irritants will lead to an increase in our consciousness of this activity. But when a person cries because of soul distress, this lachrymal activity is lifted into the sphere of consciousness only through soul or moral issues, not through physical causes.

This simple fact can help to illustrate what happens when, through meditation, we are able to lift ourselves into a bodyfree state of consciousness, in which we can live entirely in soul and spiritual experiences. If you shed tears because you receive a letter that makes you unhappy, you must admit that the cause of your tears has nothing to do with your physical eyes. Nevertheless, it affects your physical eyes. The fact that tears are not connected with the physical act of reading the letter is easily proved if someone else reads the letter to you and you experience the same tearful consequences. Something non-physical has set an organic process in motion.

Now imagine you have gained such mastery over yourself that you can suffer great sorrow without shedding any tears. Of course, this does not imply that your anguish would be any less intense than when you weep. In this situation, soul experiences do not directly affect the bodily functions. This example may illustrate how, through self-development, we can achieve a state of soul and spirit, emancipated from the physical organism. It may help you to form some idea of how imagination, inspiration, and intuition as methods of spiritual science can open the gates into the suprasensory world. If you take the proper steps, you will be able to describe experiences from beyond the tapestry of the senses, experiences that may be seen as an enhanced continuation of what a person experiences in normal life. This, however, is possible only through the practice of specific soul and spiritual exercises.

If now, through continued spiritual training, you have reached the stage where you can suppress previous imaginations of your own creation, and if in the ensuing stage of emptied consciousness you are able to experience real soul and spiritual content, the first thing that comes to meet you is a tableau sort of image of your earthly life, approximately from birth until the present. You will be unable to see your physical body in that picture, because it vanishes when you reach bodyfree perception. And there before you, ready to meet your soul, is everything you have experienced, everything that belongs to your stream of memory, which normally remains unconscious, with only individual images occasionally arising. It confronts you as an entity, as a kind of time organism full of its own inner movement.

If you look at the physical body as it appears spatially, you find that its members are interdependent, all together making up the whole. What happens in the head has a certain relationship with the stomach and vice versa. All the processes in an organism are interrelated. The same is true of an organism existing in time; later events depend on earlier ones, and the past lives in the present. At such a moment, you are all at once confronted by a tableau of your whole life.

Now, if you are able to consciously suppress the tableau of these memory pictures—not just the body but the entire life tableau—you reach the stage where you are able to perceive experiences prior to birth, or rather, prior to conception. The realm of soul and spirit that you inhabited before entering this earthly existence remains part of your inner being, even during life on earth. It works and lives in us in a way similar to the way hydrogen lives with oxygen after they form water. One cannot examine hydrogen separately from the oxygen while they form water; similarly, one cannot examine the human soul and spirit separately while we live on earth. Just as the oxygen must first be isolated from water before we can examine the remaining hydrogen, the soul and spiritual parts of the human being must first be isolated. When this happens, we are led not into the present time but into our pre-earthly existence. Thus, you really can perceive what has descended from the spirit world to assume earthly form. The realm where we lived before entering earthly life is revealed to us.

It is understandable if some are unprepared to go to such lengths to investigate the eternal human being. Certainly, everyone is free not to follow these paths. But to think it is possible to examine the human soul and spirit using ordinary methods of cognition is like believing naively that we could examine hydrogen while it forms a part of water, without first isolating it. One must recognize that ordinary consciousness is unable to enter the realm of soul and spirit. If you are unprepared to accept the results of spiritual investigation, you will have to remain silent about suprasensory realities. And in this case, you will have to be content with involvement only within material existence. The truth may be irksome to some, but there are certain facts in life that one must simply accept.

Continuing along this path of spiritual training, we gradually reach knowledge through inspiration. We become inspired by something that does not normally enter consciousness but permeates our being as does the oxygen we breathe in from the outer air. In full consciousness, we are filled with inspirational cognition and the experience of our pre-earthly life, just as in respiration we are filled with physical oxygen. We breathe with our soul and spiritual being, rising to the stage of inspiration. This word was not chosen arbitrarily, but with the nature of this type of cognition in mind.

Inspirational cognition has yet another characteristic. You will find more about it in How to Know Higher Worlds. In order to develop this higher cognition, another faculty is necessary: presence of mind. It is this faculty that enables us to act spontaneously during any given life situation. In order not to miss the right moment, we may have to act without waiting until we have time to assess an issue properly. We should really use these moments in life to practice swift and decisive action, learning to quickly grasp the moment, because whatever comes through inspiration passes in a flash. As soon as it appears, it has already vanished. One must be able to catch such fleeting moments with the utmost attentiveness.

The ordinary world of the senses appears to us be spread out in space. But when we are confronted by our life tableau, we see it existing in time. However, during inspirational cognition, we are outside the realm of time. We depend on being able to perceive in the flash of a moment; time loses its meaning as soon as we experience inspiration.

If we penetrate this life tableau, we find something far more real than the ordinary memory pictures can give us. The images of memory are neutral and lack inner strength; they are there, and we are free to take them up, but in themselves they have no strength. When viewing our life tableau, on the other hand, we see that it is full of its own life and strength and contains the very forces that form the human being. These are the suprasensory, formative forces that are active, for example, in forming the brain of a young child before the final structure has been finished. It is these formative forces that we begin to recognize, for they are contained within this life tableau. We do not apprehend something abstract, but a full reality, encompassing the course of time and full of power. It is the refined nonmaterial body of forces that we also call the ether body, or body of formative forces. This body presents only momentarily a well-defined appearance in space, for it is in constant motion. If we were to try to paint a picture of it, we would paint something unreal, because the ether body is in a constant flow. Its subsequent stage would be very different again, just as a former stage was different. This ether body is a time organism through and through, and is the basis for the growing processes and the forces active in the human metabolism.

Once we have advanced far enough in imaginative cognition, consciously living in the realm of soul and spirit beyond the physical, and once we have progressed far enough to see our life tableau—or ether body—at will, then we have truly experienced a complete transformation of our cognition. We find that experiences in the etheric world are similar to, and yet very different from, what happens in the world of artistic activity. To experience this, one has to develop a more creative way of thinking, one very different from abstract naturalistic thinking. Although in certain respects this kind of thinking resembles that of a creative artist, in other ways it is quite different. An artist’s creations have to reach a certain finality within the realm of fantasy. The artist’s creativity remains bound to the physical; it is not freed from corporeality. But the activity practiced in imaginative cognition is freed entirely from the physical and, therefore, is capable of grasping spiritual reality. For example, when we look at the Venus de Milo, we hardly have the feeling that this statue will move and walk toward us; an artistic creation does not embody outer realities. If you saw the devil painted on canvas, you would not be afraid that he was coming after you. The important thing is the way an artist, bound to physical reality, deals with material reality. But artists do not plunge into the reality of soul and spirit. What has been achieved in imaginative cognition, on the other hand, is immersed in ultimate reality, the reality of spiritual processes.

Now someone might argue that pure cognition should be kept separate from artistic activities. It is easy to prove by logic that cognizing means moving from one concept to the next in logical sequence and that, if we enter the sphere of art, we are in fact transgressing the realm of cognition. One can argue for a long time about the laws of cognition. But if nature herself is an artistic creator, she will never reveal herself to mere logical thinking. Logic alone will never reach her true being. Therefore, however much logic might prove that cognizing should not be confused with artistic activities, we cannot enter the reality of the etheric world without an artistic mode of cognition. What matters is the way things are and not what the laws of cognition should be. Even when certain suppositions are logically tenable, they may only prevent us from reaching our goal. Therefore it is proper to maintain that an artistic element must become part of our efforts if we wish to raise our ordinary cognition to the level of imagination.

When we reach the stage of inspiration, we may again compare our experiences with something they resemble, yet differ from greatly: moral experiences and the comprehension of moral ideas. Viewed qualitatively, inspirations are like moral ideas. Yet they are totally different, since any moral ideal we may have does not, in itself, have the power to realize itself on its own; in themselves, moral ideals are powerless. We must make them effective through our own physical personality, placing them in the world by means of our physical existence. Otherwise, they remain only thoughts. But this cannot be said of an inspiration. Though qualitatively similar to moral ideas, or moral impulses, inspiration manifests as a reality, existing in its own right. It is a powerful force that works like the elemental forces in nature. Thus we enter a world that, whereas we have to imagine it as similar to the world of moral ideas, has reality because of its primal power.

If one can take a stand in the world of soul and spirit, having advanced far enough in the state of inspiration, then something else is still needed to experience its content. We have to carry something into this realm that does not exist at all in our abstract world of thoughts: complete devotion to our chosen objective. It is impossible to come to know a being or power in the spiritual world unless we surrender lovingly and completely to what we encounter during the state of inspiration. At first, inspiration remains only a manifestation of the spiritual world. Its full inner nature reveals itself only when, with loving devotion, we pour ourselves out into its substance. And only after experiencing the reality of soul and spirit in this way—full of life and with heightened consciousness—do we enter the realm of inspiration.

And this is intuitive cognition. Shadow forms of intuition can be found in ordinary life, where they exist in religious feelings and moods. However, a religious feeling remains a purely inner experience that does not lift us into outer spirituality. Intuition, on the other hand, is an experience of objective spiritual reality. In this way, intuition is similar and yet again very different from a purely religious experience.

If you want to arrange these levels of higher knowledge in a more or less systematic order, we can say, first of all, that in ordinary life we have knowledge of the material world, which we could call naturalistic knowledge. Then we come to knowledge gained through imagination, which has a kind of artistic nature. The next step is knowledge attained through inspiration, which is, in essence, a moral one. Finally we reach knowledge through intuition, which is like religious experiences, but only in the sense just described.

These suprasensory experiences of an artistic, moral, and religious sort work on and transform the whole human being. Although ordinary consciousness knows nothing of them, they nevertheless form part of the human being. Therefore suprasensory knowledge gained through imagination, inspiration, and intuition enables us to know the whole human being. And because these powers streaming from the spiritual world into earthly existence work in an especially strong way in children, higher cognition, in particular, allows us to understand the nature of a child. It is important, however, to recognize how suprasensory forces are related to physical forces.

This can be illustrated particularly well if we take memory as an example, because active memory definitely depends on the functioning of physical organs. Even commonplace experiences can demonstrate how our body must play its part when we use our powers of memory. For instance, we may wish to memorize part of a play or a poem, only to find that the lines simply refuse to become imprinted on the mind. Yet, after sleeping on them overnight, we may suddenly remember them without difficulty. This happens because, during the sleep, our body has regenerated so that we are able to use its renewed vitality the following morning for the task of remembering the lines.

One can also prove anatomically and physiologically that, through paralysis or the separation of certain areas within the nervous system, specific areas of memory may be wiped out. In other words, we can see that memory depends on the functioning of the physical organization and that physical organs are active during the process of remembering. However, this kind of memory activity is completely different from what we experience in heightened consciousness through imagination, inspiration, and intuition. For these suprasensory experiences simply must not be involved in any way in the functions of physical organs. This tells us why such experiences cannot be remembered in the ordinary way; they do not impress themselves into ordinary memory.

Anyone engaged in spiritual scientific research must allow ordinary memory to run its course alongside what one experiences in the suprasensory realm. Ordinary memory must remain intact. In a way, a student of anthroposophy has to maintain a second personality that represents ordinary life and is always present. But the researcher knows full well that there is this other, first personality engaged in suprasensory knowledge that will not allow itself to become imprinted on the memory. In ordinary life we can retain only a memory image of a fish we have seen, not the fish itself. In suprasensory cognition, we have direct perceptions—not mental images—and thus we cannot carry them in our memory. Consequently one has to return to them again and again. However, it is possible to remember the process we used to gain suprasensory cognition, and if we repeat those efforts, suprasensory sight will reemerge, albeit only passively, since it cannot live in the memory. It can be attained only through renewed inner activity. The fact that these higher faculties are beyond the reach of memory is a characteristic of suprasensory cognition. One can regain it, but only by following a route similar to the one traveled earlier. One can remember the path taken previously, but not the suprasensory experience itself.

It is this fact that distinguishes suprasensory experiences from those of ordinary life. It must be emphasized again and again, however, that a healthy memory goes hand in hand with true suprasensory experiences. If you lose the stream of common memory while engaged in suprasensory experiences, you will pour your subjective personality into them. Then you would not be a student of spiritual scientific research but live in hallucinations and personal visions. It is important to understand that all forms of hallucinations should be strictly excluded from suprasensory cognition and that such cognition must be developed along with a normal, healthy soul life. Anyone who argues that imagination and inspiration attained through anthroposophy might simply be hallucinations does not understand the nature of the spiritual scientific path and talks only out of ignorance.

It is essential to recognize this difference between suprasensory cognition and memory, since both are real in life. Suprasensory substance gained through imagination and inspiration has its own separate existence, and we can become aware of it through our own effort. Memory, on the other hand, is not just the result of our own effort, because the subconscious also plays a role. What we experience through imagination remains in the spirit world, as though it comes to unite with us. But memory flows right through us, entering the physical body and causing it to participate; it penetrates the physical human being. Comparing memory with imagination helps us appreciate the difference between everything related to the physical body and the suprasensory forces that live in us eternally, even between birth and death. But, because this eludes ordinary consciousness, it must be shown through spiritual scientific investigation.

We come to know the whole human being only by immersing ourselves in this relationship between the suprasensory aspect of the human being and physical existence. If we penetrate the knowledge gained through suprasensory cognition, we come to know the child and the growing human being in such a way that we can develop a true art of education. This example of the relationship between the suprasensory human being and the activity of memory helps shed light on this problem.

Let us imagine that a teacher is introducing a subject to a class. First he approaches it in a somewhat general way and may have the impression that all was going well. But after a time, he notices that a child in the class is becoming pale. Pallor is not always obvious and might easily go unnoticed by those not trained in exact observation. Ideally, however, teachers should remain fully aware of each student’s condition. The symptoms I will describe could have many causes. But when teachers deepen their knowledge of the human being through anthroposophic training, they awaken and enhance their ordinary pedagogical instincts so they are able to diagnose and address other causes as well. If a science of education establishes fixed and abstract rules, it affects teachers as though they were constantly stepping on their own feet while trying to walk; it robs them of all creative spontaneity. When teachers always have to wonder how to apply the rules prescribed by educational science, they lose all ingenuity and their proper pedagogical instincts. On the other hand, the educational principles based on spiritual science have the opposite effect. They do not allow inborn pedagogical sense to wither away but enliven and strengthen the teacher’s whole personality. At least, this is the intention of the practical educational principles that spring from anthroposophy.

However varied external symptoms may be (life, after all, is full of surprises), our imaginary teacher, whose pedagogical sense has been stimulated and sharpened by anthroposophy, might suddenly realize that this child is growing pale because he was overfed with memory content. Of course, there might be many other reasons for such a symptom, which a gifted teacher would also be able to discover. I am giving you this example, however, to illustrate one of the fundamental tasks of spiritual science: to make people aware of how the human soul and spirit interacts with the physical, material nature of the human being. Anthroposophy does not want to simply reveal spiritual knowledge; most of all, it endeavors to open people’s eyes to the way living spirit works and reveals itself in matter. Such knowledge enables us to deal correctly with the practical problems of life, and it places us firmly in the world where we have to fulfill our tasks.

If this pallor, caused by the overburdening of the student’s memory, is not recognized in time, a perceptive teacher will notice a further change in the child—this time psychological—as an anxiety complex develops. Again, this symptom may not be conspicuous and might be detected only by teachers for whom intense observation has become second nature. And, finally, overtaxing a student’s memory can eventually have the effect of retarding the child’s growth forces; even physical growth can be affected.

Here you have an example of how soul and spirit interact with what is physical. It shows us how important it is for teachers to know how to deal with children’s tendencies toward health and sickness. Of course, illnesses have to be treated by medical doctors, but educators are always confronted by inherent trends toward health or sickness in children, and they should learn to recognize these tendencies. They should also be aware of how illnesses can come out later in life and how, often, they can be traced back to what happened in school. Such knowledge makes teachers far more circumspect in choosing their teaching methods. In the example given, the teacher would certainly avoid placing too much stress on the student’s memory, and he might see a healthier complexion return to the child’s face. He could bring about such a change by showing his student something beautiful that would give pleasure. The next day he might again show the child something beautiful or a variation of the previous object, thus bypassing mere memory.

A teacher may also discover the opposite symptoms in a child. For example, a teacher notices a girl whose face appears permanently flushed, even if only slightly. She may discover that this change is not at all the result of embarrassment, but represents a shift in the girl’s health. Again, this symptom may be so slight that it would go unnoticed by a less perceptive teacher. And this condition could have many other causes, and these would not escape our teacher’s notice either. It could be that this student has a tendency to blush because the teacher did not appeal sufficiently to the child’s memory. Realizing this, she would try to rectify this condition by giving the student more memorizing to do. If not addressed, this irregularity could intensify and spread to the girl’s psyche, where it would manifest in mild but significant outbursts of temper.

This connection between slackness in memorizing and slight but unhealthy fits of temper is certainly a possibility. The general repercussions of such a condition would be injurious to a student’s health. In such cases, the mutual effects between soul and spirit on the one hand, and the body on the other, could lead to breathing and circulatory problems. Thus, teachers who are unaware of such links may unwittingly plant illnesses in their students, and these can remain dormant for many years and then, triggered by other causes, lead to serious illnesses. For this reason, any teacher worthy of the title should be aware of these connections and characteristics in human nature.

As mentioned previously, acute illnesses must be dealt with by medical doctors, but during their developmental stages, children are always moving either toward health or illness. The art of education demands that teachers be conversant with these indications and have the ability to perceive them, even in their more subtle manifestations.

To illustrate this point even more drastically, I will give you one more example that, I realize, may be open to argument, but life presents us with a great number of situations. Consequently, the case I will describe may also be the result of completely different causes. If you live with what anthroposophy offers to teaching, you become used to looking around for the most varied causes when confronted with a particular problem. But the following connections between symptom and cause are certainly possible.

Let us imagine that a boy in a class has followed the lessons attentively and to the satisfaction of the teacher. However, one day he suddenly appears somewhat blasé; he is no longer inclined to pay attention, and much of the subject matter seems to pass unnoticed. Depending on the experience and outlook of the boy’s teacher, he might even resort to corporal punishment or some other form of correction to bring about greater participation. However, if this teacher is aware of the interplay between spirit and matter that manifests in health and illness, he would approach this in a very different way. He might say to the boy, “You shouldn’t allow your finger- and toenails grow too long. You ought to cut them more often.” Outer signs of growth, such as fingernails and toenails, are also permeated by soul and spirit. And if fingernails and toenails grow too long, these growth forces become blocked. Being held back in this way, those forces are no longer able to flow into the nails. This obstruction to the flow of growth forces, which is removed when the nails are cut, similarly affects the soul and spiritual counterpart and manifests as difficulties in concentration. The ability to pay attention can be developed only with a free and unlimited flow of the life forces that permeate the whole organism. In most cases, this kind of change in powers of concentration may pass unnoticed. I give this example to show that anthroposophic principles and methods of education in no way neglect the physical aspects of life. Nor do they lead to a vague kind of spirituality; spirit is taken fully into account, so that life can be understood and treated appropriately.

Educators who gradually learn to understand human nature can learn how to deal correctly with matters related to their students’ health and illness.