The Rudolf Steiner Archive

The Goetheanum ^NoteNum in the Swiss town of Dornach, near Basel, is intended to be a place of higher learning for the cultivation of a science and art rooted in the spirit. All sectarian aspirations are to be excluded here. It is not intended as a new religion; but religious deepening, which is not hostile to any confession, can be promoted by an understanding of the spiritual world and by the practice of a spirit-filled art.

The construction of the Goetheanum already serves this purpose. It is not a building constructed in a historically handed-down art form. Here one beholds a new style, which may be found to be still imperfect in its kind, perhaps even still burdened with artistic errors; but it has emerged from the striving of the present day, which is directed towards a new style just as the human spirit once longed for Greek or Gothic or Baroque forms. Today there are many people in all parts of the civilized world who are convinced of the necessity of such a renewal of style. These convictions should find a center at the Goetheanum.

The architecture, painting and sculpture of this building are all inspired by this idea. The dynamics and symmetry of ancient architecture were to be brought out of the mathematical-mechanical sphere and into that of an organic-living building concept. The plastic form was to be fertilized from the world of exact observation, and the color harmony was to be transformed into a revelation of the spiritual through the experience of such observation. What was striven for in this way may account for the still imperfect character of the Goetheanum building today, but it can also become the starting point for a comprehensive will in this direction in the future.

This building provides the setting for scientific, artistic, educational and social work. The science cultivated here aims at a true spiritual knowledge. It does not stand in opposition to the recognized sciences of the present day; it allows them to express their insights where their legitimate methods must speak. But it comes to the conclusion that there are true spiritual scientific methods alongside the natural scientific ones. These do not consist of external experimental work, but in a development of the powers of the human soul that are hidden from ordinary consciousness. But this method does not lead to nebulous mysticism, but to abilities that work just as precisely as mathematical-geometric ones. That is why one can speak of an exact supersensible seeing. The mathematical ability works exactly; it develops in an elementary way in the human soul; this seeing works just as exactly; it must be attained by the human being through self-education.

For anthropology, this vision progresses scientifically from the knowledge of the transitory human nature to the immortal essence of the human being; for cosmology, the same occurs for the spiritual laws of world evolution. A comprehensive literature of the anthroposophical movement provides information about the details of the development of exact supersensible vision. There one finds the paths from anthropology to anthroposophy, from cosmology to cosmosophy.

Of the arts, only eurythmy and some declamatory and dramatic arts can be cultivated alongside music. Eurythmy, which is already being cultivated at the Goetheanum and in many other places, is not to be confused with the mimic or dance-like arts. It is based on drawing movements from the depths of the human being. These movements are drawn from human nature in the same way that nature draws language. Eurythmy is a visible language and can be artistically shaped in the same way as audible language by the poet. It then accompanies declamation, recitation and music. Poetry and music thus receive a revelation that they do not yet have through sound and tone alone.

Efforts are also being made to cultivate other arts at the Goetheanum. In particular, mystery plays are to be performed soon.

The Goetheanum also has an educational impact on young people. In Dornach itself, only children who are beyond compulsory school age can be given individual lessons. However, there is the prospect that a complete primary school can soon be established in Basel. We have such a school in Stuttgart through the Waldorf School. This was founded in 1919 by Emil Molt with about 150 children. Today it has around 700 pupils. There are about 35 teachers. Children are accepted there from the age of six, and the teaching and education is intended to continue until they are accepted into university. So far, eleven classes have been set up. The intention is to add another class each year. If conditions permit, a kind of kindergarten will be added later.

The education and teaching are based on the complete knowledge of the human being that can be provided by a true spiritual science. This pedagogy does not contradict the principles of proven educators of the most recent times. It is in full agreement with them. But it works with the knowledge that a true science of the spirit can provide. No one dogmatic direction, not even anthroposophy, should be given undue emphasis; instead, spiritual knowledge should flow into the pedagogical methodology; everything that the teacher can know through spiritual knowledge should become an art of teaching and educating. In each school year, exactly what the human nature of the child requires is cultivated. Spirit, soul and body develop in complete harmony. For example, in the early school years, it is necessary to steer pedagogical methods away from the abstract and intellectual and towards an artistic approach to teaching reading and writing. In this way, the children's capacity for concentration is far better utilized than in the conventional teaching methods.

In the Waldorf school there are children from all classes of the population; they receive a general human education and instruction.

How the spiritual science of the Goetheanum would like to influence social life can be seen in my book “The Core Points of the Social Question in the Necessities of Life Today and in the Future”. The educational work is a beginning of this effectiveness. It will depend on the understanding that the Dornach idea finds in wider circles how it will prove effective for the most diverse areas of life.

The willingness of many individuals to make sacrifices has been needed to bring about what can be found in Dornach so far. But the sacrifices that these personalities have made in abundance seem to be coming to an end in the near future; and the work in Dornach should be able to continue. To do this, it is urgently necessary that the beautiful interest that the Dornach idea has so far found in a not inconsiderable circle should extend to very wide circles, and that it should be recognized by them as a necessity of the time. This will only be possible if the Goetheanum in Dornach becomes a center where the spiritual, artistic and educational work characterized here can be carried out continuously in such a way that people will gather there from time to time to learn about the Goetheanum idea in theory and in practice. Then it will be independently cultivated by them in other places and, from its imperfect beginning, can be brought to ever more perfect stages in the civilized world. Such centralization and dissemination will be necessary if the activity of the personalities working in Dornach and Stuttgart, who are now called to the most diverse places to speak about the Goetheanum idea, is not to be too fragmented.

• NoteNum. This essay has been published before in the English journal “Anthroposophy”.

Anthroposophy strives for an understanding of the world and humanity that it can apply in a fruitful way to the art of teaching and educating. Its knowledge of human nature is not compiled from random observations made about human beings. It goes to the very foundations of the human being. She sees the human being in general in each individual human individuality. But she does not turn into abstract theory that dissolves the human being into general forces in her desire to understand him. Her thoughts about the human being are experiences of the human being. Her insights enliven the feelings for the human being. They reveal the secrets not only of the human being in general, but also of each particular human nature before the soul's gaze.

Anthroposophy unites theoretical world observation with direct, vital insight. It does not need to artificially apply general laws to the individual phenomena of life; it remains in the fullness of life from the very beginning, in that it sees the universal itself as life.

In this way, it is also a practical understanding of the human being. It knows how to help when it perceives this or that quality in the growing human being. It can form an idea of where such a quality comes from and where it points. And it strives for such an understanding of the human being that the knowledge also provides the skill to treat such a quality. In the knowledge of the human being, the insight into the human nature is conveyed.

One need only fully develop the views that anthroposophy comes to about the human being, and they will naturally become the art of education and teaching.

An abstract knowledge of the human being leads away from the love of humanity that must be the fundamental force of all education and teaching. An anthroposophical view of the human being must increase love of humanity with every advance in knowledge of the human being.

If we wish to study the living organism, we must direct our attention to the relation of each individual part to the life of the whole, and also to the way in which the whole is effectively manifested in each part. We cannot understand the brain unless we have a clear insight into the workings of the heart. But it is the same in the life of man as it unfolds in time. One cannot understand the phenomena of childhood without also seeing in them the characteristics of the adult human being. The life of man is a whole; it is an organism in time. The child learns to look up to the adult with reverence. It learns veneration for human beings. This reverence, this veneration for human beings, is imprinted on the being; but it also changes in the course of life. For life is transformation. Reverence for human beings, veneration for human beings, which take root in the human soul during childhood - they appear in later life as the strength in the human being that can effectively comfort another human being, that can give him strong advice. No man of forty-five will have the warmth of comfort and counsel in his words who has not been brought as a child to look at other people with shy reverence, to honor them in the right way. And so it is with everything in human life. It is the same with the physical and the soul-spiritual. One understands the physical only if one grasps it in each of its members as a revelation of the spiritual. And one gains insight into the spiritual only if one is able to observe its revelations in the physical correctly.

Childhood cannot reveal its essence through that which it only allows to be observed in itself. Human life is a whole. And only a comprehensive knowledge of the human being leads to an understanding of the child's life. In the abstract, this is easily admitted. But anthroposophy wants to develop this view into a concrete knowledge and art of life. It must develop into an art of education and teaching that feels responsible for the whole of human life by being entrusted with the growing human being.

It sounds very nice to say: develop the child's individual abilities, get everything you do in your education and teaching out of these abilities. You cannot do anything with such beautiful principles as long as you do not carry in your own soul an understanding of the whole course of human life. And anthroposophical knowledge of the human being strives for such an understanding.

When this is stated, one often hears the retort: you don't need anthroposophy for that. Surely all that is already contained in the principles of modern education. It is there, to be sure, in their abstract principles. But the point is that a real knowledge of the human being in body, soul and spirit leads to the transformation of abstract demands into real, life-filled art. And for this practical implementation, knowledge of the human being is necessary, which, although based on the good foundations of modern scientific knowledge, advances from these to a spiritual understanding of the human being. Anyone who approaches the human being with the ideas that the study of nature gives them may well come to the view that one develops this or that human disposition; but this view remains an abstract demand as long as one does not see the disposition as a partial revelation in the whole human being, in body, soul and spirit.

One would like to say: the world view that is recognized today makes demands on education and teaching; but it lacks the possibility of fulfilling these demands through a practical knowledge of life: anthroposophy wants to provide this practical knowledge of life. Anyone who sees this will not find in anthroposophy an opponent of modern views and developmental forces in any area, but can hope for it to fulfill what lies abstractly in these views and forces.

Humanity will have to admit that much of what it currently considers practical must be relegated to the realm of life illusions; and much of what it considers idealistic and impractical must be seen as the real thing. Such a change of perspective will be particularly necessary in the field of education and teaching. The great questions of human life lead to the children's and schoolroom.

The art of pedagogy ¹ can only be based on genuine knowledge of human nature. And this cannot be complete if it is limited to mere observation. One does not get to know the human being through passive knowledge. At least to a certain extent, what one knows about the human being must be experienced as sensed by the creative part of one's own being; one must sense it in one's own will as a knowing activity.

A passive knowledge of the human being can only lead to a lame educational and teaching practice. For the transition from such knowledge to practice must consist of external instructions for activity. Even if one gives oneself these instructions, they remain external.

Knowledge of the human being as the basis of pedagogy must begin to live by being absorbed. One must immediately experience every thought about the human being as one's own nature, just as one experiences proper breathing and proper blood circulation as one's own health.

When faced with the task of educating and teaching a child, knowledge of the human being must flow naturally into action. And love must live in this naturalness. There is no such thing as passive knowledge of the human being, and then the external consideration: because this or that is so and so in the child, therefore you must do this or that. There is only direct experience, which is what it recognizes in its own existence. And then the educational treatment of the child becomes an activity that arises in love and takes on its necessary character because it is experienced through the child. A knowledge of the human being that is woven into life takes up the child's essence like the eye takes up color.

Knowledge of nature can remain theory; for the healthy feeling person, knowledge of the human being as theory is like having to experience oneself as a skeleton. There is no sense in speaking of a difference between theory and practice in the knowledge of the human being. For a knowledge of the human being that cannot become active in life practice is a sum of ideas that hover shadow-like in the mind but do not reach people. A life practice that is not illuminated by knowledge of the human being gropes uncertainly in the dark.

If the teacher has the right attitude, then he has the prerequisite for developing his humanity in front of his pupils in a way that is full of life and invigorating, and for encouraging the emerging human being to reveal himself.

And the right educational attitude is the essential thing in all pedagogical work.

This attitude draws attention to the child's expressions of life, which appear as germinal states of the developing human being. The human being must be active in his work without losing himself in a mechanism of work. The child's nature demands that preparation for work be based on the revelation of the human being. The child wants to be active because activity is part of human nature. The harsh world demands that adults produce finished work. In the child, the developing human being demands activity, which, if guided correctly, develops the seed of work.

Those who, with genuine insight into the human being, can eavesdrop on the child's being on the way from play to life's work will overhear the nature of teaching and learning at this intermediate stage. For in childhood, play is the serious revelation of the inner urge to activity, in which the human being has his true existence. It is a careless way of putting it to say that children should “learn by playing”. A teacher who organized his work accordingly would only educate people for whom life is more or less a game. But the ideal of educational and teaching practice is to awaken in the child a sense of learning with the same seriousness with which it plays, as long as playing is the only emotional content of life.

An educational and teaching practice that sees this through will give art the right place and its cultivation the right extent.

Life is often a strict teacher for the educator as well. It makes its demands on the training of the mind. Therefore, one will do too much rather than too little in relation to this training. It is the moral that truly makes man human. An immoral person does not reveal the full human being within himself. Therefore, it would be a sin against human nature not to cultivate the moral development of the child to the fullest extent. Art is the fruit of man's free nature. One must love art if one is to recognize its necessity for the full human being. Life does not compel love. But it thrives only in love. It wants to be in the unconstrained element.

Schiller was the only one who sensed this; and this perception led him to write his “Letters on the Aesthetic Education of Man”. Schiller sees the most important element of all educational art in the penetration of man with the aesthetic state of mind. Man should permeate the cognitive drive with cognitive love in such a way that he behaves like the creative artist or the aesthetically receptive person in his activity. And he should experience duty as the expression of his innermost human nature, as he feels in aesthetic experience. (On this occasion, reference may be made to the excellent presentation of Schiller's intentions in Heinrich Deinhardt's writing “Beiträge zur Würdigung Schillers”, which was recently published by Kommenden Tag Verlag in Stuttgart).

It is a pity that Schiller's “Aesthetic Letters” have had such a limited effect on pedagogy. A stronger impact would have had a significant effect on the place of art in educational and teaching practice.

Art, both visual and poetic-musical, is required by children's nature. And there is an engagement with art that is appropriate even for children when they reach school age. As an educator, one should not talk too much about this or that art being 'useful' for the development of this or that human ability. Art is there for art's sake, after all. But as an educator, one should love art so much that one does not want to deprive the developing human being of the experience of it. And then you will see what the experience of art does for the developing human being – the child. It is only through art that the mind comes to true life. The sense of duty matures when the urge to be active artistically conquers matter in freedom. The artistic sense of the educator and teacher brings soul into the school. It allows one to be happy in earnest and full of character in joy. Nature is only understood through the intellect; it is only experienced through artistic perception. The child who is taught to understand matures into 'ability' when understanding is practised in a lively way; but the child who is introduced to art matures into 'creativity'. In 'ability', the human being expresses himself; in 'creativity', he grows with his ability. The child who models or paints, however clumsily, awakens the soul in himself through his activity. The child who is introduced to the musical and poetic senses the sense of being moved by an ideal soul. He receives a second one to his humanity.

All this will not be achieved if art is taught only on the side, if it is not organically integrated into the other forms of education and instruction. All instruction and education should be a unified whole. Knowledge, life training, and practice in practical skills should lead to the need for art; artistic experience should foster a desire for learning, observing, and acquiring skills.

• 1. Outline of a lecture for the “Artistic-pedagogical conference of the Waldorf School”, 25-29 March 1923.

The tasks of the educator and teacher ¹ culminate in what he can achieve for the moral conduct of the youth entrusted to him. He faces great difficulties in this task within the elementary school education. One of these difficulties is that moral education must permeate everything he does for his students; a separate moral education can achieve much less than the orientation of all other education and all other teaching towards the moral. But this is entirely a matter of pedagogical tact. Because roughly formulated “moral applications” in all possible cases, even if they are still so forceful at the moment they are applied, do not achieve what is intended in the further course. - Another difficulty is that the child who enters elementary school has already formed the basic moral attitudes of life.

The child lives completely absorbed in its surroundings until the period around the seventh year, when it undergoes the change of teeth. One could say that the child is completely absorbed in its surroundings. Just as the eye lives in colors, so the child lives entirely in the expressions of life in its surroundings. Every gesture, every movement of the father and mother is experienced in a corresponding way in the child's entire inner organism. The brain of the human being is formed during this period. And during this period of life everything that gives the organism its inner character emanates from the brain. And the brain reproduces in the finest way what takes place through the environment as a revelation of life. The child's learning to speak is based entirely on this.

But it is not only the external aspects of the behavior of the environment that resonate in the child's being and imprint the character on its inner being, but also the spiritual and moral content of these external aspects. A father who reveals himself to his child through expressions of anger will cause the child to develop a tendency to express anger in gestures, even in the finest organic tissue structures. A timid and hesitant mother implants organic structures and movement tendencies in the child that cause the child to have a tool in its body that the soul then wants to use in a timid and hesitant way.

During the phase of life when the teeth change, the child has an organism that reacts spiritually and morally on the soul in a very specific way.

It is in this state, with an organism oriented towards the moral, that the child is received by the teacher and educator of the elementary school. If he does not see through this fact, he is exposed to the danger of imparting moral impulses to the child, which are unconsciously rejected by the child because it has the inhibitions of the nature of its own body to accept them.

The essential thing, however, is that when the child enters primary school, he has the basic tendencies acquired by imitating his environment, but that these can be transformed with the right treatment. A child who has grown up in an environment of violent temper has received its organic formation from it. This must not be left unnoticed. It must be taken into account. But it can be transformed. If one takes it into account, one can shape it in the second phase of childhood, from the change of teeth to sexual maturity, in such a way that it provides the soul with the basis for quick-wittedness, presence of mind, and courage in those situations in life where such qualities are necessary. A child's organization, which is the result of a fearful, timid environment, can also provide the basis for the development of a noble sense of modesty and chastity. Genuine knowledge of the human being is therefore the basic requirement for moral education.

Those who educate and teach must, however, bear in mind what the child's nature requires for its development in general between the change of teeth and sexual maturity. (These requirements can be found in the pedagogical course I have outlined and described in this weekly journal and which Albert Steffen has now published in book form). The transformation of basic moral principles and the further development of those that must be regarded as right can only be achieved by appealing to the emotional life, to moral sympathies and antipathies. And it is not abstract maxims and ideas that appeal to the emotional life, but images. In teaching, one has ample opportunity to present images of human existence and behavior, and even of non-human existence and behavior, to the child's mind, by which moral sympathies and antipathies can be aroused. Emotional judgment of the moral should be formed in the period between the change of teeth and sexual maturity.

Just as the child, until the change of teeth, is devoted to imitating the immediate expressions of life in the environment, so in the period from the change of teeth to sexual maturity, it is devoted to the authority of what the teacher and educator say.

The significance of the educational impulse contained in such learning can be seen when one seeks the right relationship to the child after the first third of the second phase of life, roughly between the ninth and tenth birthdays, in true human insight. A most important point in life is reached there. One notices that the child, half unconsciously, is going through something essential in a more or less dark feeling. The ability to approach the child in the right way is of incalculable value for his or her entire later life. If we wish to express consciously what the child experiences in its dream-like feelings, we must say: the question arises in the soul: where does the teacher get the strength that I, believing in him with reverence, receive? As a teacher, one must prove before the unconscious depths of the child's soul that one has the authority that comes from being firmly grounded in the world order. With true knowledge of human nature, one will find that at this point in time some children need few words, spoken correctly, while others need many. But something decisive must happen then. And only the being of the child itself can teach what has to happen. And for the moral strength, moral security, moral attitude of the child, unspeakably important things can be achieved by the educator at this point in life.

If moral judgment has been properly developed with sexual maturity, it can be incorporated into free will in the next stage of life. The young person leaving elementary school will carry with them the feeling, from the psychological after-effects of their school days, that the moral impulses in social interaction with fellow human beings unfold from the inner strength of their human nature. And after sexual maturity, the will will emerge as morally strong if it has previously been cultivated in the rightly nurtured moral judgment of feeling.

• 1. Outline of a lecture for the “Artistic-Pedagogical Conference of the Waldorf School”, 25-29 March 1923.

Eurythmy ¹ Eurythmy is said to be an art that uses movement forms of the human organism in and out of space, as well as moving groups of people, as its means of expression. However, it is not about mimic gestures or dance movements, but about a real, visible language or song. When speaking and singing, the human organs shape the air stream in a certain way. If one studies the formation of sound, vowels, consonants, sentence structure, verse formation, and so on, in a spiritually alive way, one can form very definite ideas about the plastic forms that arise during the corresponding speech or song revelations. These can now be recreated by the human organism, especially by the most expressive organs, the arms and hands. This makes it possible to see what is heard when singing or speaking.

Because the arms and hands are the most expressive organs, eurythmy consists primarily of the shaped movements of these organs; then the movement forms of the other organs are added in a supportive way, as with ordinary speech, facial expressions and ordinary gestures. The difference between eurythmy and dance can be seen particularly clearly by looking at the eurythmic accompaniment of a piece of music. In this case, what appears to be dance is only a secondary matter; the main thing is the visible singing that is created by the arms and hands.

One should not think that a single form of movement in eurythmy is arbitrary. At a particular moment, a certain form of movement must be created as an expression of something musical or poetic, just as a certain tone must be created in singing or a certain sound in speech. In the language of movement of eurythmy, the human being is as bound as in singing or speaking to tone and sound. But he is equally free in the beautiful, artistic design of eurythmic movement forms as he is in language or song.

This enables us to present a piece of music that is being played in eurythmy, in a visible song, or to present a recited or declaimed poem in a visible language at the same time. And since language and music come from the whole human being, their inner content appears all the more vivid when the audible is accompanied by the visible. For everything that is sung and spoken actually moves the whole human being; in ordinary life, the tendency to movement is only held back and localized in the organs of speech and song. Eurythmy only reveals what is always inherent in these human expressions of life as a tendency to move, but which remains hidden in the disposition. - A kind of orchestral interaction of the audible and visible is achieved by adding eurythmy to instrumental music performance and to recitation or declamation.

For recitation and declamation to be presented in connection with eurythmy, it is important to note that these must occur in a truly artistic form of language. Reciters or declaimers who only emphasize the prose content of the poem cannot participate in eurythmy. True artistic poetry arises only through the imaginative or musical shaping of language. The content of prose is not the artistic element; it is only the material through which the pictorial aspect of language, or also the beat, rhythm, verse structure and so on, should reveal itself. All poetic language is already a hidden eurythmy. The reciter or declaimer must bring out of the poem what the poet has put into it through the pictorial, plastic or musical aspect of language. Dr. Steiner has been specially training this art of recitation and declamation for years. Only such a language art can be performed together with eurythmy, because only then can the reciter offer the ear what the eurythmist presents to the eye in the way of sound formation and sound sculpture. It is only through such interaction that what really lives in poetry is brought before the soul of the listener and spectator.

Eurythmy is not intended for an indirect understanding of the intellect, but for direct perception. The eurythmist must learn the visible language form by form, just as a human being must learn to speak. But the effect of eurythmy accompanied by music or speech is one that is felt directly through mere contemplation. Like music, it also has an effect on people who have not learned the forms themselves. For it is a natural, an elementary revelation of the human being, while language always has something conventional about it.

Eurythmy has arisen in the present day in the same way as all the arts arose in their corresponding epochs. These arose from the fact that one brought a soul content to revelation through corresponding artistic means. When a certain artistic means had been mastered to such an extent that it could be used to reveal to the senses what the soul experiences, an art was created. Eurythmy is created by learning to use the most noble of artistic means, the human organism, this microcosm, itself as a tool. In the art of mime and dance, this only happens in relation to parts of the human organism. Eurythmy, however, uses the whole human being as its means of expression. But before such a performance, the audience's forbearance must always be appealed to. Every art had to go through an initial stage. This also applies to eurythmy. It is at the beginning of its development. But because it uses the most perfect instrument imaginable, it must have unlimited possibilities for development. The human organism is this most perfect instrument; it is in reality the microcosm, containing in concentrated form all the secrets and laws of the world. If, through the shaping of movements in eurythmy, we can bring to manifestation what is contained in the essential nature of the organism as a language that physically expresses the whole experience of the soul, then we must be able to express the secrets of the world artistically in a comprehensive way.

What eurythmy can offer at present is only the beginning of what is possible in the direction indicated. But because it makes use of means of expression that can have such a relationship to the nature of the world and of man, it may be hoped that in its further development it will prove itself to be a fully-fledged art in its own right alongside the others.

• 1. These “introductory words” were spoken before the eurythmy performances that took place in connection with my lecture series during my English tour to Ilkley, Penmaenmawr and London.

I

The remains of the Goetheanum now cover the Dornach hill. Its construction was the result of an initiative by members of the Anthroposophical Society. Anthroposophy is the name I used when, twenty years ago in Berlin, I gave a lecture cycle on the world view that I believe is a direct continuation of Goethe's way of thinking. I chose the name in memory of a book by the Herbartian Robert Zimmermann, “Umriß einer Anthroposophie” (Outline of an Anthroposophy), which appeared decades ago. The content of this book, however, has nothing to do with what I presented as “anthroposophy”. It was modified Herbartian philosophy in the most abstract form. I wanted to use the word to express a world view that, through the application of the spiritual organs of perception of the human being, brings about the same knowledge of the spiritual world as natural science brings about through the sensory organs of perception of the physical.

About a year and a half before the lecture cycle mentioned above, I had already given lectures on another area of this anthroposophical world view at the invitation of Countess and Count Brockdorff in the “Theosophical Library” in Berlin at the time. The content of these lectures is published in my book “Mysticism in the Dawn of Modern Spiritual Life”. As a result of these lectures I was invited to join the Theosophical Society. I accepted this invitation with the intention of never advocating anything but the content of what had presented itself to me as the anthroposophical world view. It was always my view that I should lecture to all people who wanted to hear me, regardless of the name of the party under which they had joined together in any group, or whether they came to my lectures without any such preconception.

At the same time that I was invited to join the Theosophical Society, a number of members of that society founded a German section of it. I was invited to become its General Secretary. Despite serious misgivings, I accepted. I did not change my intention to present the Anthroposophical worldview to the world. What I myself call “Theosophy” is clearly evident from my book “Theosophy”, which I wrote shortly afterwards. This Theosophy emerges as a special field of Anthroposophy.

At the same time that the members of the Theosophical Society were inaugurating the German section in Berlin with speeches by Annie Besant, I was giving the series of lectures on anthroposophy that I have just mentioned.

I was now invited to give lectures to members of the Theosophical Society quite often. But basically, from the very beginning of this activity, I was opposed by those members of the Theosophical Society who were dogmatically attached to the teachings of some of the older leaders of that society. The circle of those personalities who found something in the Anthroposophical worldview increasingly formed itself as an independent one. In 1913, these leaders expelled them from the Theosophical Society when I called the consequences drawn from the teachings of these leaders and presented to the world absurd and declared that I did not want to have anything to do with such absurdities.

The Anthroposophical Society was founded in 1912 under the influence of these events. With the help of those personalities who later held leading positions in the Society, I was able to add the performance of “mysteries” to my lecturing activities even before that. As early as 1907, the anthroposophically oriented members in Munich performed Schuré's adaptation of the Eleusinian mystery at the Theosophical Congress. In 1909, he presented the play “Children of Lucifer” by the same author, which was followed by the presentation of “The Children of Lucifer” by the same author in Munich in 1909. As a result, in the following years, 1910-1913, my four own, very modern mystery dramas were performed for the members of the anthroposophical circle, also in Munich.

This expansion of anthroposophical activity into the field of art was a natural consequence of the nature of anthroposophy. The reasons for this have been frequently presented in this weekly publication.

Meanwhile, the circle that had become the Anthroposophical Society had grown so much that the leading figures within it were able to build Anthroposophy a home of its own. Munich was chosen as the location for this, because most of the supporters of the building intention were located there and had developed a particularly dedicated activity at that time.

I myself saw myself only as the representative of these supporters of the building intention. I believed that I had to concentrate my efforts on the inner spiritual work of Anthroposophy and gratefully accepted the initiative to create a place of work for it. But at the moment when the initiative was realized, the artistic design was for me a matter of inner spiritual work. I had to devote myself to this design. I asserted that if the building was to truly frame the anthroposophical world view, then the same principles from which the thoughts of anthroposophy arise must also give rise to the artistic forms of the building. The fact that this should not be done in the manner of a straw-and-stone allegory of building forms or of a symbolism tainted by thought is inherent in the nature of anthroposophy, which, in my opinion, leads to real art.

The idea of building the structure in Munich could not be carried out because influential artistic circles there objected to the forms. Whether these objections would have been overcome later is not worth discussing. The supporters of the building intention did not want the delay and therefore gratefully accepted the gift of Dr. Emil Grossheintz, who had already purchased a piece of land on the Dornach hill for the building.

So the foundation stone was laid in 1913 and work began immediately.

The supporters of the building project named the building the “Johannesbau” in reference to a character in my mystery dramas named Johannes Thomasius. During the years of construction, I often said that I started from the study of Goethean forms of thought in the construction of the anthroposophical worldview many years ago, and that for me their home is a “Goetheanum”. As a result, non-German members of the Anthroposophical Society in particular decided to continue to give the building the name “Goetheanum”.

Since anthroposophy, at the time when the building was started, had already found members with academic training and experience in the most diverse fields, and therefore stood in prospect of applying spiritual scientific methods in the individual sciences, I was allowed to suggest adding to the name of the building: “Freie Hochschule für Geisteswissenschaft” (Free University for Spiritual Science).

Friends of anthroposophy have been working on this building for almost ten years. Difficult material sacrifices came from many sides: artists, technicians and scientists worked together in the most dedicated way. Anyone in the anthroposophical circle who had the opportunity to work on the project did so. The most difficult tasks were willingly taken on. The spirit of the anthroposophical world view worked through enthusiastic hearts on the “Goetheanum”. To my great joy, the construction workers, who at first were at least indifferent to anthroposophy, have been of the opinion since 1922 that the misgivings about anthroposophy that were expressed in such wide circles are unfounded.

My colleagues and I had turned our thoughts to the continuation of our work. We had planned a science course for the end of December and the beginning of January. Friends of the anthroposophical cause from many countries were present again.

In addition to the artistic activities, eurythmy and declamation had been added years ago, under the direction of Mrs. Marie Steiner, who has made this one of her many fields of work. On New Year's Eve, we had a eurythmy performance from 5 to 7 p.m. My lecture began at 8 p.m. and ended half an hour after 9 p.m. I had spoken about the connection between human beings and the phenomena of the course of the year in an anthroposophical way. Shortly thereafter, the Goetheanum went up in flames; by New Year's morning 1923 it had burned down to the concrete substructure.

II

When I had the honor of inaugurating the first course of lectures held at the Goetheanum in September and October 1920, it seemed to me to be of primary importance to point out how spiritual-scientific knowledge, artistic form and religious inwardness are sought from a single source in anthroposophy. In the opening speech I briefly pointed this out, and in lectures on the building idea in Dornach I wanted to show how art in the Goetheanum was drawn from the same spirituality that seeks to reveal itself in ideas when anthroposophy appears in the form of knowledge.

In this respect, the attempt that was made with the Goetheanum has been misunderstood by many. It has been said that the work here is done in symbolism. Those who have spoken in this way always seemed to me to be people who had visited the Goetheanum but had not really looked at it. They thought: a particular world view is presented here. The people who produce it want to create symbols of what they teach in the building forms and in the rest of the artistic work that they add inside and out. With this dogma, one often visited the Goetheanum and found it confirmed, because one did not look at it and because one judged the matter as if anthroposophy were nothing more than a rational science. Such a science, however, if it wants to express itself artistically, will usually achieve nothing more than symbolism or allegory.

But at the Goetheanum, no abstract ideas were embodied. The shaping of ideas was completely forgotten when form was created from artistic perception, line from line and surface from surface. When colors were used on the wall to depict what was also seen directly in the color picture.

When I occasionally had the opportunity to personally show visitors around the Goetheanum, I said that I actually dislike “explaining” the forms and images, because the artistic should not be suggested by thoughts, but should be accepted in direct contemplation and perception.

Art that arises from the same soil as the ideas of true anthroposophy can become real art. For the soul forces that shape these ideas penetrate into the spiritual realm from which artistic creativity can also come. What one forms in thought out of anthroposophical knowledge stands for itself. There is no need to express it symbolically in a semi-artistic way. On the other hand, through the experience of the reality that anthroposophy reveals, one has the need to live artistically in forms and colors. And these colors and forms live for themselves again. They do not express any ideas. No more or no less than a lily or a lion expresses an idea.

Because this is related to the essence of anthroposophical life, anyone who used their eyes and not their dogmatizing minds when visiting Dornach will not have become aware of symbols and allegories, but of real artistic attempts.

But there was one thing I always had to mention when speaking of the architectural idea of the Goetheanum. When the time came to carry out this building, one could not turn to an artist who was supposed to create a home for Anthroposophy in the antique, Renaissance or Gothic style. If anthroposophy were mere science, mere content of ideas, then it could have been so. But anthroposophy is life, it is the grasping of the universal human and the world in and through man.

The initiative of the friends of this world view to build the Goetheanum could only be realized if this building, down to the last detail of its design, was created out of the same living spirit from which anthroposophy itself springs. I have often used an image: look at a nut and the nutshell. The shell is certainly not a symbol of the nut. But it is formed out of the same laws as the nut. Thus the structure can only be the shell, which artistically proclaims in its forms and images the spirit that lives in the word when Anthroposophy speaks through ideas.

In this way, every style of art is born out of a spirit that has also revealed itself ideationally in a world view.

And in a purely artistic sense, a style of building has been created for the Goetheanum that had to move from symmetry, repetition and so on to that which breathes in the forms of organic life. The auditorium, for example, had seven columns on either side. Only one on the left and right had capitals of the same shape. In contrast, each following capital was the metamorphic development of the previous one. All this resulted from artistic intuition; not from a rational element. It was not possible to repeat typical motifs in different places; rather, each structure was individually designed in its place, just as the smallest link in an organism is individual and yet designed in such a way that it necessarily appears in its formation in the place where it is. Some people have taken the number seven of the columns as an expression of something mystical. This too is a mistake. It is precisely a result of artistic perception. By allowing one capital form to arise artistically from the other, one arrived at the seventh with a form that could not be exceeded without falling back on the motif of the first.

It may be said, without indulging in illusions, that the building at the Goetheanum was not the only one to be confronted with the prejudices just mentioned. Gradually, quite a number of people came forward who wanted to look with unprejudiced eyes at what had arisen from unprejudiced perception.

Goethe speaks from his artistic feeling the words: “He to whom nature begins to reveal her secret, feels an irresistible longing for her most worthy interpreter, art,” and “Beauty is a manifestation of secret natural laws that would have remained hidden forever if it had not appeared.” According to the forms that the human concept of knowledge has taken in modern times, it is believed that the essence of natural things and natural processes can only be expressed by formulating laws (natural laws) in a conceptual way. But what if there were an artistic basis to nature's creative activity? Then the person who starts from the prejudice that it can only be expressed intellectually would not come close to the full essence of nature. And so it is. When one has penetrated to the secrets of nature through the realm of ideas, full of the life of the world, then one experiences: there is still something that does not yield to thought, that one can only reach when one tunes the soul into the realm of ideas through artistic contemplation. Goethe felt this when he wrote the sentences quoted. And the Goetheanum was shaped out of such a feeling. Anyone who sees a sect in people who practice anthroposophy will easily explain the symbolism of a sectarian view into the architectural forms of the Goetheanum. But anthroposophy is the opposite of all sectarianism. It strives for the purely human in full impartiality.

The small domed room of the Goetheanum was painted in such a way that it was not started from an ideational figurative, to which colors were glued, but rather a color experience was there first; and from this the figurative was born. In devotion to the essence of the color, the soul's creative power is strengthened to the figurative that the experienced colors demand. When painting, one feels as if there were nothing in the world but living, weaving colors, which are creative and generate essence out of themselves.

When one has to speak about the intentions behind the creation of the Goetheanum, one feels the pain of its loss, for which words are not there. For the whole essence of this building was geared towards contemplation. The memory hurts unspeakably. For one remembers soul experiences that urge towards contemplation. But the possibility of contemplation has been taken away since that New Year's Eve.

III

At the Goetheanum, an artistic sense could lead one to the insight that anthroposophy is not a sect or a religion. You can't build a church or a temple in this style. Two cylinder casings, with different sized bases, interlocked on the sides where they were cut out. They were closed at the top by a larger and a smaller dome. The domes were hemispherical and also interlocked, with sectors cut out where they touched.

The small domed room was to serve as a stage for mystery plays when it was completely finished. But it had not yet been set up for that purpose. Until now, only eurhythmy performances had taken place in this room. — The larger domed room enclosed the rows of spectators and listeners. There was nothing that would have given this two-part room the character of a temple or cult building.

The bases of the twelve columns around the small domed room had been converted into twelve chairs. One could recognize a meeting room for a limited number of participants; but not something church-like. Between the columns there was to be a sculptured group in the center of which was to be a figure in which one could recognize Christ. It was to be the emblem that genuine spiritual knowledge leads to Christ, thus uniting with the content of religion.

Those who entered through the main portal should be addressed by the whole in an artistic way: “Recognize the true human being.” The building was designed to be a home of knowledge, not a “temple.

The two rooms were separated by a curtain. In front of the curtain was a lectern that could be lowered when the stage area was used.

One need only look at the shape of this lectern to see how little was thought of it in terms of a church. All these forms were artistically drawn from the overall design of the building and from the meeting of the designs that led to the place where the speaker stood.

These forms were not an architectural and sculptural temple interior, but the framing of a place of spiritual knowledge. Anyone who wanted to see something else in them had to first interpret artistic untruth into them. But it was always satisfying for me when I was allowed to hear from those who were authorized to say: these forms speak in the true way of what they want to be. And that I was able to hear such words, that happened several times.

But it should not be denied that some things about the building must have been strange to those who approached it with familiar ideas about architecture. But that was in its essence; and it could not be otherwise.

When people become acquainted with anthroposophy, some of them also experience something of this kind of alienation. It initially appears as knowledge of the human being. But as it develops its knowledge of the human being, it expands into knowledge of the world. The human being recognizes his own nature; but this grasping is a merging with the content of the world.

When you entered the Goetheanum, you were surrounded by walls. But the treatment of the wall in its sculptural design had something that contradicted the character of the wall. We are accustomed to seeing the wall treated in such a way that it closes off a space from the outside. Such a wall is artistically opaque. The walls of the Goetheanum, with their protruding column forms and the designs that were supported by these columns, were intended to be artistically transparent. They were not meant to shut out the world, but to catch the eye with their artistic formations in such a way that the observer felt connected to the vastness of the universe. If one could not immediately focus one's attention on this peculiarity, these forms appeared as if one suddenly became aware of an incomprehensible window where one had expected an opaque blackboard.

The glass windows set into the outer wall were also adapted to this character of the wall. These were visible between two columns. They were made of monochrome glass, into which the artistic motifs were engraved. It was a kind of glass etching. The image was created by the different thicknesses that the monochrome glass acquired through the etching. It could only be seen as an image in strong sunlight. Thus, what had been artistically conceived in terms of form for the rest of the wall was also physically achieved in these windows. The image was only there when the wall interacted with the outside world. Two windows on the left and right were the same color. The windows from the entrance to the beginning of the stage were different colors, arranged in such a way that the colors in their sequence created a color harmony.

At first, what was seen in the windows might have been incomprehensible. But for those who had absorbed the anthroposophical world view, the strangeness would have been revealed purely through contemplation, not through intellectual or symbolic interpretation. And the whole was a home for those who sought anthroposophy. Anyone who claimed to understand these pictures without an anthroposophically oriented view resembled someone who wanted to enjoy a poem in a language artistically without first understanding the language.

The same applied to the pictorial motifs that covered the inner two dome surfaces. But it is wrong to say that one should first have a worldview in order to understand the images and forms. One did not need to read books or listen to lectures in order to have an anthroposophical orientation for these images, but one could also gain this orientation without the preceding word by simply looking into the images. But one had to come to it. If one did not want to, one stood before it, as – without, of course, even remotely suggesting an artistic comparison of values – before Raphael's Disputa, if one did not want to orient oneself to the mystery of the Trinity.

The auditorium was designed for nine hundred to one thousand people. At the western end of the auditorium, there was a raised space for the built-in organ and other musical instruments.

This entire wooden structure stood on a concrete substructure that was larger in plan, so that there was a raised terrace around the outside of the auditorium. In this substructure, under the auditorium, were the places for depositing clothes, and under the stage area were machines. It must have seemed amusing to those who had seen the contents of this concrete substructure when they heard that opponents of the anthroposophical worldview were talking about all sorts of mysterious things, even about underground meeting places in this concrete building. The Goetheanum had goals that truly did not require dark, mysterious meeting places or magic instruments. Such things would not have fitted into the architectural concept of the whole. They would have been artistically unmotivated.

The domes were covered with Nordic slate from the Voß slate quarries. The bluish-grey sheen in the sunlight combined with the color of the wood to create a whole that many a person who has made their way up the Dornach hill to the Goetheanum on a bright summer's day has welcomed with sympathy.

Now they encounter a pile of rubble with a low concrete ruin rising up out of it.

IV

The art of eurythmy seemed to come into its own at the Goetheanum. It is visible speech or singing. The individual performs movements with his limbs, especially the most expressive movements of the arms and hands, or groups of people move or take up positions in relation to each other. These movements are like gestures. But they are not gestures in the usual sense. These relate to what is presented in eurythmy as the child's babbling to the developed language.

When a person reveals himself through language or song, then he is there with his whole being. He is, so to speak, in the system through his whole body in motion. But he does not express this system. He captures this movement in the making and concentrates it on the speech or sound organs. Now, through sensual-supersensible observation – to use this Goethean expression – one can recognize which movement of the whole physical human being underlies a tone, a speech sound, a harmony, a melody, or a formed speech structure. In this way, individuals or groups of people can be made to perform movements that express the musical or linguistic element in a visible way, just as the speech and singing organs express it aurally. The whole person, or groups of people, become the larynx; the movements speak or sing as the larynx sounds.

Just as in speech or song, nothing in eurythmy is arbitrary. But it makes just as little sense to say that momentary gestures are preferable in eurythmy as it does to say that an arbitrary tone or sound is better than those that lie within the lawful formation of speech or sound.

But eurythmy is not to be confused with dance either. Musical elements that sound simultaneously can be eurythmized. In this case, one is not dancing to music but visibly singing it.

Eurythmic movements are derived from the human organism as a whole in the same orderly way as speech or song.

When poetry is eurythmized, the visible language of eurythmy is revealed on stage and at the same time the poetry is heard through recitation or declamation. One cannot recite or declaim to the eurythmy as one often likes to do, by merely pointing out the prose content of the poetry. One must really treat the language artistically as language. Meter, rhythm, melodious motifs and so on, or even the imaginative aspect of sound formation, must be worked out. For every true poetry is based on a hidden (invisible) eurythmy. Mrs. Marie Steiner has tried to develop this kind of recitation and declamation, which goes hand in hand with the eurythmic presentation. It seems as if a kind of orchestral interaction of the spoken and visibly presented word has really been achieved.

It turns out to be inartistic for one person to recite and perform eurythmy at the same time. These tasks must be performed by different people. The image of a person who wanted to reveal both in themselves would fall apart for the immediate impression.

The development of the art of eurythmy is based on insight into the expressive possibilities of the human body, insight that draws on both the senses and the supersensory. As far as I know, there is only scant evidence of this insight from earlier times. These were times when the soul and spirit were still able to shine through the human body to a greater extent than they are today. This scant tradition, which incidentally points to quite different intentions than those present in eurythmy, was of course used. But it had to be independently developed and transformed, and above all, it had to be completely reshaped into an artistic form. I am not aware of any tradition in the formal movement of groups of people that we have gradually developed in eurythmy.

When this eurythmic art appeared on the stage of the Goetheanum, one should have the feeling that the static forms of the interior design and the sculpture related to the moving human beings in a completely natural way. The former should, so to speak, accept the latter pleasantly. The building and the eurythmic movement should merge into a single whole. This impression could be heightened by accompanying the sequence of eurythmic creations with lighting effects that flooded the stage in harmonious radiance and sequence. What is attempted here is light eurythmy.

And if the forms of the stage took up the eurythmic designs as something belonging to them, so did those of the auditorium take up the recitation or declamation that occurred in parallel with the eurythmy, which sounded from a seat on the side of the stage, where it meets the auditorium, through Marie Steiner. Perhaps it is not inappropriate to say that the listener should feel in the building itself a comrade in the understanding of the word or tone heard. If one does not want to claim more than that such a unity of building form and word or music was striven for, then what has been said will not sound too immodest. For no one can be more convinced that all this has been achieved only in a highly imperfect way than I myself. But I have tried to shape it in such a way that one could feel how the movement of the word naturally ran along the forms of the capitals and architraves.

I would only like to suggest what can be tried for such a building: that its forms do not merely enclose what is depicted in them on the outside, but contain it in a living unity in themselves in the most direct impression.

And if I were to express my opinion on this, I would hold back. But I have heard what has been said from others.

I also know that I have shaped the forms of the building sensitively, out of the state of mind from which the eurythmy images also come.

The fact that the forms of eurythmy were continuously shaped in the experience of what could be experienced in the creation of the building forms will not be perceived as a contradiction of what has been said. For the harmony between the two was not achieved by intellectual intention, but arose out of a homogeneous artistic impulse. Probably eurythmy could not have been found without the work on building. Before the building idea, it existed only in its first beginnings.

The instructions for the soul-based shaping of the moving speech forms were first given to the students in the hall built into the south wing of the Goetheanum. The interior architecture of this hall in particular was intended to be a resting eurythmy, just as the eurythmic movements within it were moving plastic forms, shaped by the same spirit as these resting forms themselves.

It was in this hall that the smoke was first detected on December 31, which came from the fire that destroyed the entire Goetheanum when it grew up. One feels, when one has been lovingly connected with the building, the merciless flames painfully penetrating through the sensations that poured into the resting forms and into the work attempted within them.

V

Of course, some objections can be raised against the stylistic forms of the Goetheanum. I have always described them as a first attempt to undertake something artistic in the direction characterized in the preceding remarks.

Those who refuse to accept any transition from the cognitive representation of the nature of the world and of world processes through ideas to pictorial artistic embodiment must reject these forms of expression. But what is it ultimately based on, this desire to visualize something of the world's content through knowledge in the soul? But only because in the experience of the ideas of knowledge one becomes aware of something in which one knows the outer world to be continuously active within oneself. Through knowledge the world speaks in the human soul. He who merely imagines that he has formed his own ideas about the world, he who does not feel the world pulsating within him when he lives in ideas, should not speak of knowledge. The soul is the arena in which the world reveals its secrets.

But anyone who thinks of knowledge in such a realistic way must ultimately come to the conclusion that his thinking must pass over into artistic creation if he wants to experience the content of the world in certain areas within himself. One can close one's mind to such a view. One can demand that science must stay away from artistic visualization and express itself only in the formation of ideas that are demanded by logical laws. But such a demand would be mere subjective arbitrariness if the creative process of nature were such that it could only be grasped artistically in certain areas. If nature proceeds as an artist, then man must resort to artistic forms in order to express it.

But it is also an experience of knowledge that in order to follow nature in its creative work, the transition of logically formed ideas into artistic images is necessary.

For example, up to a certain point it is possible to express the human physique through logical thinking. But from this point onwards, one must allow the process to enter into artistic forms if one does not want a mere ghostly image of the human being, but rather the human being in his or her living reality. And one will be able to feel that in the soul, by experiencing the form of the body in artistic and pictorial terms, the reality of the world is revealed in the same way as in the logically formed ideas.

I believed I was presenting Goethe's view of the world correctly when, at the end of the 1980s, I described his relationship to art and science as follows: “Our time believes it is doing the right thing when it keeps art and science as far apart as possible. They are said to be two completely opposite poles in the cultural development of humanity. Science should, so it is thought, sketch out for us a world view that is as objective as possible; it should show us reality in a mirror or, in other words, it should adhere purely to what is given, divesting itself of all subjective arbitrariness. The objective world is decisive for its laws; it must submit to it. It should take the standard of truth and falsity entirely from the objects of experience. The two creations of art are to be completely different. The self-creative power of the human mind gives them their laws. For science, any interference by human subjectivity would be a falsification of reality, a transgression of experience; art, on the other hand, grows on the field of ingenious subjectivity. Its creations are the product of human imagination, not reflections of the outside world. Outside of us, in objective being, lies the origin of scientific laws; in us, in our individuality, that of aesthetic ones. Therefore, the latter have not the slightest cognitive value; they create illusions without the slightest reality factor. Anyone who understands the matter in this way will never gain clarity about the relationship between Goethean poetry and Goethean science. But this means that both are misunderstood. The world-historical significance of Goethe lies precisely in the fact that his art flows from the source of being, that it contains nothing illusory, nothing subjective, but appears as the herald of the lawfulness that the poet has overheard in the depths of natural activity to the world spirit. At this level, art becomes the interpreter of the secrets of the world, as science is in another sense. This is how Goethe always understood art. For him, it was a revelation of the primal law of the world; science was the other. For him, art and science arose from the same source. While the scientist delves into the depths of reality to express the driving forces of reality in the form of thoughts, the artist seeks to incorporate these same driving forces into his material. Goethe himself puts it this way: “I think that science could be called knowledge of the general, abstract knowledge; art, on the other hand, would be science applied to action. Science would be reason and art its mechanism, which is why it could also be called practical science. And so, finally, science would be the theorem, art the problem.” And Goethe expresses something similar with the words: ”Style rests on the deepest foundations of knowledge, on the essence of things, insofar as we are allowed to recognize it in visible and tangible forms.” (See my introduction to Goethe's scientific writings, which will soon be published as an independent book by the Stuttgarter Kommenden Tag-Verlag.)

What I meant at the time: that Goethe is right when he thinks of the relationship between art and science in this way; that seems right to me today too. That is why what was expressed in his work in the form of knowledge could be presented in artistic form at the Goetheanum.

Anthroposophy has the supersensible content of the world for its representation, insofar as it is accessible to human contemplation. One feels that every expression of this content through logically formed ideas is only a kind of thought-gesture that points to this content. And the artistic form appears as the other gesture through which the spiritual world responds to the thought-gesture; or perhaps the other way around, the world reveals the idea in response when one asks it through the artistic image.

The stylistic forms of the Goetheanum could not, therefore, be a naturalistic imitation of any inanimate or animate object in the world around us. The experience of what is happening in the spiritual world had to guide the hand that formed the sculpture and applied the paint to the surface. The spiritual content of the world had to be allowed to flow into the lines and reveal itself in the color.

No matter how many objections are raised against these stylistic forms of the Goetheanum, the attempt that was made was to create an artistic home for a striving for knowledge in the sense of Goethe's intentions, a home that was from the same spiritual source as the knowledge cultivated in it. The attempt may have been imperfectly successful; it was there as such: and the Goetheanum was built in the spirit of Goethe's view of art.

Thus one came to feel that the Goetheanum was the home of Anthroposophy; but after the disaster of December 31, after the one side, one also feels, with Anthroposophy, homeless. Sympathetic visitors came to the scene of the fire on January 1st, saying: we want to keep alive in our hearts what we have experienced in this building.

VI

The Goetheanum has only experienced nine major events. In September and October 1920, lecture series took place over three weeks on a wide range of scientific topics. The impetus for this came from the circle of scientists working in the Anthroposophical Society. The entire organization of the lecture cycles was also in their hands. Teachers from the Free Waldorf School and other personalities with training in various fields of knowledge — including artists — were involved. The idea behind the event was to show how the individual scientific fields can be illuminated by the anthroposophical method of research.

It struck me at the time, as I witnessed these cycles, that not everything appeared as if it had been born out of the spirit of the Goetheanum. When individual insights into nature or history were illuminated out of the spirit of anthroposophical concepts as a whole, one felt harmony between the structure and the presentation of knowledge. When individual questions were discussed, this was not the case.

I had to think of how, during the construction, the anthroposophical work had grown beyond the stage it was at when construction began. In 1913, the idea of those personalities who had decided to build it was to create a place for the anthroposophical work in the narrower sense and for those artistic performances that had grown out of the anthroposophical perception. At that time, the individual scientific fields were only included in the anthroposophical work of knowledge to the extent that they naturally integrated into the broader presentations of spiritual scientific observation.

The building was conceived as an artistic vessel for this spiritual content. This relationship was the basis for the design of the building. It was allowed to be so. For it was important to express artistically how anthroposophy should be placed in the context of human life as a whole. If the treatment of individual scientific fields was considered later, this should be done in separate extensions.

A different approach is needed for the reconstruction of the Goetheanum. The construction of a central place for anthroposophy in the narrower sense was obvious because it was the will of the personalities who advocated its construction to build this place out of wood. Such a central place can be artistically imbued with this material. Another material would then have been considered for the extensions. A second wooden structure is out of the question. Before the Goetheanum was tackled, I told the leading personalities what artistic feelings for wood and for another material would be considered. They decided on wood because at that time they took the view that they should proceed as idealistically as possible. This idealism bore the beautiful fruit that understanding souls had before them, at least for a short time, a home for anthroposophy that could not have been built in another material with such verve in the lines and such expressiveness in the forms. Today, this fruit is a tragic memory. There are no words for the pain of loss. The idealism of those who commissioned me to build in wood must therefore be given all possible credit.

The building is closely connected with the fate of anthroposophical development in recent years, precisely because of the lack of the marked harmony at the first event. The first series of lectures as a whole reveals itself as something that did not grow quite organically out of the same idea as the building itself. It was as if something had been carried into the purely anthroposophical building. In the outer reality of human coexistence, things do not always follow the path demanded by the inner workings of a spiritual context. Anthroposophy is absolutely predisposed to extend its developmental tendencies to where they also lead into the most specialized fields of knowledge. But that is not how it happened in the Anthroposophical Society. A different path has been taken. Scientifically educated personalities have become members of the Society. Science was their way of life and their education. Anthroposophy has become a matter of the heart for them. They have allowed themselves to be inspired by it for their science. Thus we have received scientific explanations from anthroposophically minded personalities before the individual fields of knowledge were born out of anthroposophy itself. Much has been achieved by the fact that, when the need arose, lecture cycles were held in front of small groups from the most diverse fields of knowledge, inspired by the anthroposophical spirit. What came out of this is not to be presented here as something that was hasty or the like. But just as, for example, in the pedagogical field, educational methods have emerged directly from anthroposophy, as is the case in the artistic field with eurhythmics, so it has not been destined by fate for the Anthroposophical Society to do so in other fields. In certain areas, a faster pace was demanded of anthroposophy out of a well-seen contemporary necessity. This requires that individual scientific fields that are already being worked on and anthroposophical development must first grow into each other.

This was also expressed in the disharmony of the first event in 1920, as described. If a reconstruction comes about, it will be able to contain - in a different material - individual rooms - for example on the first floor - for scientific events and artistic work, and thus the space for the anthroposophical in the narrower sense. On the one hand, such a building will correspond to its material, and on the other hand to the development that anthroposophical endeavors have taken in recent years.

The disharmony was only an expression of the endeavor to create a home for anthroposophy in the narrower sense that was artistically appropriate to its stage of development up to 1918. Perhaps I may cite this as proof of how Anthroposophy as a spiritual content and its home as an artistic unity were felt during the elaboration of the latter.

But today, in a strange harmony with this architectural idea of the Goetheanum, I feel what was then in me, when the first event was set up in it, to open the Goetheanum itself in a festive manner. The program of that series of lectures could not be taken as the occasion for such a celebration. It should only take place when an event had become possible whose whole would be in complete harmony with the original building idea. It did not come to that. The Goetheanum died away before then. In the hearts of those who loved it, there was a lasting funeral service.

The next essay will deal with the further events that could still take place in the dear building.

VII

Even if it was not possible for us to reveal the opening ceremony, the building idea and the event of the Goetheanum in full harmony, we were still able to make attempts in various directions over the course of more than two years to bring the anthroposophical spirit to bear.

The first three-weekly lecture cycle was followed by a second one-weekly cycle in April 1921. The aim was to show how the individual fields of human knowledge can be significantly expanded if their paths of research are continued into the spiritual realm.

On this occasion, it gave me particular satisfaction to be able to point out such a possible expansion for a number of fields of knowledge through my own lectures.

During these events, I was also always given the task of showing visitors around the building and talking about the artistic aspects of the Goetheanum. On the one hand, I was reluctant to say anything theoretical about art. Art is meant to be looked at. But these tours had another side to them. One could avoid wanting to 'explain' art in an unartistic way. I did that too, as far as it seemed permissible to me from those who were looking at the building. But there were plenty of opportunities to talk about anthroposophical matters in a free, fragmentary, aphoristic way, linking it to the forms and images that could be seen. And the lectures could then be woven into a whole with what was said during the tour. Then one felt very intimately how good the anthroposophically oriented word was when spoken at a pillar or under a picture that came from the same spirit as the word itself.

These events always included eurythmy performances. They made it clear how the building demanded that the insights presented in it had to be shaped into a whole by artistic means. The inner space of the Goetheanum seemed to brook no lecture cycle that was not rounded off by artistic elements. I believe it was felt to be a necessity when Marie Steiner added her art of recitation and declamation to the lecture events from the organ room.

We also had the joy of hearing Mrs. Werbeck-Svärdström unfold her wonderful art from this organ room, sometimes together with her three sisters. What the participants were able to hear there will certainly be unforgettable.

Personally, it always gave me the greatest joy to hear Albert Steffen speak from the Goetheanum podium. What he says is always meant to be felt in plastic forms. He is like a sculptor of language; a sculptor who carves in wood. I perceived a harmony between the building forms and his language sculptures, which he placed in the building at once deliberately and confidently.

In August 1921, we were able to hold an event that was thanks to the English painter Baron von Rosenkrantz. This event felt particularly at home in the building. The band stepped before the soul's eye, connecting spiritual-scientific research and spirit-revealing art. It is understandable that attention was drawn to what the building was intended to be an experiment for, on this occasion in particular.

At the end of September and the beginning of October, a number of German theologians who carried the impulse for a Christian religious renewal gathered at the Goetheanum. What was worked out here came to a conclusion in September 1922. I myself must count among the festivals of my life what I experienced with these theologians in September 1922 in the small hall of the south wing where the fire was later discovered. Here, with a group of nobly enthusiastic people, it was possible to follow the path that leads spiritual knowledge into religious experience.

At the end of December and beginning of January 1922, a group of English teachers gathered at the Goetheanum. That this was possible was due to the dedicated efforts of Prof. M. Mackenzie. She and Prof. Mackenzie had taken part in the course organized by Baron von Rosenkrantz in August. On this occasion, the distinguished English educationalist decided to invite English teachers to visit the Goetheanum during the Christmas holidays. Together with a number of teachers from the Stuttgart Waldorf School, I was invited to speak again in the hall of the south wing about pedagogy, education and teaching practice. The English educators were joined by others from Scandinavia, Switzerland, the Netherlands, Germany and so on.

In September 1922, I was invited to give ten lectures on “Cosmology, Philosophy and Religion from the Point of View of Anthroposophy”. Once again, the cycle of my lectures was rounded off by teachers from the Waldorf School and other personalities from the Anthroposophical Movement, through their lectures and the discussions they held with the participants. I went to each of my lectures and came away from them with a deep sense of gratitude to those who initiated the building of the Goetheanum. For it was precisely in these lectures, in which I had to cover a wide range of knowledge from an anthroposophical point of view, that I had to feel the benefit of being able to express ideas that had been given artistic form in the building.

Events such as the “Dramatic Course”, given by Marie Steiner in July 1922, and a National Economic Course, which I myself held in July and August 1922, did not take place within the rooms that were lost to us on New Year's Eve. But they belong to the circle of what the Goetheanum has inspired.

Eurythmy performances have been taking place at the Goetheanum for many years. I have tried to describe their close connection with the nature of the building in an earlier article.

A cycle of lectures on natural science was planned for the end of December and beginning of January 1922 to 1923. Once again, personalities working in the field of anthroposophy were to give lectures and hold discussions with me. I added other lectures on purely anthroposophical subjects to the lectures on knowledge of nature. Only the first part of this event could still take place at the Goetheanum. After the eurythmy performance and my lecture on New Year's Eve, the flames took the building in which we would have liked to continue working.

The lectures had to be continued in an adjoining room, while outside the flames consumed the last remains of the Goetheanum, which we loved so much.

Anyone who has studied the forms that make up the living structure of the Goetheanum could see how Goethe's ideas on metamorphosis were incorporated into the architectural ideas. These metamorphosis ideas became clear to Goethe when he wanted to embrace the diversity of the plant world in spiritual unity. To achieve this goal, he searched for the archetypal plant. This was to be an idealized plant form. In it, one organ could be developed to particular size and perfection, while others could be small and unattractive. In this way, one could also devise an immense number of special forms from the ideal original plant; and then one could let one's gaze wander over the external forms of the plant world. One found this realized in one form, that in the other, derived from the original plant. The whole plant world was, so to speak, one plant in the most diverse forms.

But with this, Goethe assumed that a formative principle prevails in the diversity of organizations, which is recreated by man in the inward mobility of thought forces. He thus ascribed something to human knowledge whereby it is not merely an external observation of world beings and world processes, but grows together with them into a unity.

Goethe had applied the same principle to the understanding of individual plants. In the simplest way, he saw an entire plant in the leaf. And in the multiform plant he saw a leaf developed in a complicated way; so to speak, many leaf-plants combined again according to the leaf principle into a unity. — Likewise, the various organs of animal formation were transformations of a basic organ for him; and the whole animal kingdom the most diverse forms of an ideal “primordial animal”.

Goethe did not develop the idea in all its aspects. His conscientiousness led him to stop on unfinished paths, especially in relation to the animal world. He did not allow himself to go too far in the mere formation of thoughts without repeatedly having the ideational confirmed by the sensuous facts.

One can have a twofold relationship to these Goethean metamorphoses of ideas. One can regard them as an interesting peculiarity of the Goethean spirit and leave it at that.

But one can also attempt to bring one's own activity of ideas in the Goethean direction. Then one will find that in fact secrets of nature are revealed, to which one cannot gain access in any other way.

More than forty years ago, I believed I had realized this (in my introductions to Goethe's scientific writings in Kürschner's Deutsche National-Literatur) and called Goethe the Copernicus and Kepler of the science of the organic. I proceeded from the view that for the inanimate, the Copernican act consists in noticing a material connection independent of man; but that the corresponding act for the animate lies in discovering the right mental activity by which the organic can be grasped by the human mind in its living mobility.

Goethe accomplished this Copernican feat by introducing the spiritual activity through which he worked artistically into knowledge. He sought the path from artist to knower and found it. The anthropologist Heinroth therefore called Goethe's thinking a representational one. Goethe spoke with deep satisfaction about this. He took up the word and also called his poetry a concrete one. He thus expressed how close the artistic and cognitive activities were in his soul.

Immersing oneself in Goethe's spiritual world could give courage to lead the view of the metamorphoses back to the artistic. This helped to develop the architectural idea of the Goetheanum. Wherever nature unfolds in living activity, she creates forms that grow out of each other. One can come close to nature's creative activity through artistic-sculptural work, if one lovingly and empathetically grasps how she lives in metamorphoses.

It is now possible to call a building the “Goetheanum” which has been created in such a way, both architecturally and sculpturally, that the assimilation of Goethe's metamorphic view of life has dared to attempt to be realized in its forms.

And in the same way, anthroposophy itself is also the direct further development of Goethe's views. Anyone who embraces the idea of the transformation not only of the sensory forms – in which Goethe, in accordance with his particular soul character, remained – but also of what can be grasped in soul and spirit, has arrived at anthroposophy. This is only a very elementary observation. In the human soul, we see thinking, feeling and willing at work. Anyone who is only able to see these three forms of soul life side by side or in their interaction cannot penetrate deeper into the essence of the soul. But anyone who gains clarity about how thinking is a metamorphosis of feeling and willing, feeling a metamorphosis of thinking and willing, and willing a transformation of thinking and feeling, connects themselves with the essence of the soul. If Goethe, who wanted to be oriented towards the sensually descriptive, was highly satisfied to hear that his thinking was called objective, then a spiritual researcher can find a similar satisfaction when he realizes how his thinking becomes “spiritually animated” through the metamorphosis view. Thinking is “representational” when it can become so entwined with the essence of sense perceptions that this essence is experienced as resonating within it. Thinking becomes “spirit-animated” when it is able to absorb the spirit into its own currents and movements. Then thinking becomes spirit-bearing, just as perception, directed to the sense world, becomes color- or sound-bearing. Then thinking metamorphoses into intuition.

With this metamorphosis, however, thinking has been freed from the body. For the body can imbue thinking only with sense-perceptible content.

One conquers the living through the contemplation of metamorphosis. One thereby enlivens one's own thinking. It is transformed from a dead to a living one. But in this way it becomes capable of absorbing the life of the spirit by contemplation. Anyone who, on the basis of what Goethe's writings contain, wants to form the judgment that Goethe himself would have rejected anthroposophy may be able to cite external reasons for doing so. And one may concede that Goethe would have been very cautious in such a case, because he himself would have felt uncomfortable pursuing the metamorphosis into areas where it lacks the control of sensory phenomena. But Goethe's world view merges with anthroposophy without artifice.

Therefore, that which rests securely on Goethe's world view could be cultivated in a building that bore the name Goetheanum in memory of Goethe.

Anyone who looks at the building in the neighborhood that is dedicated to the so-called Goetheanum, a free university for spiritual science that aims to serve the spiritual and cultural interests of the future, may initially be struck by the peculiar forms and style that confront them. One might have various objections to what one sees there. Those who are involved in the construction will be able to understand such objections, that it is a preliminary attempt, if they arise from goodwill. But a certain question must be raised about this building, which is characteristic of everything that the spiritual movement wants and strives for, of which this building is supposed to be a representative. If it had been necessary, in the usual way, to erect an independent building somewhere for a certain spiritual movement, for a certain kind of spiritual activity, then one would probably have turned to this or that architect, to this or that artist, and one might have conferred with them about what was to be done in such a building, and then a building would have been erected in some antique, Renaissance or other style, in which this spiritual-scientific activity was to find its home. There would only have been an external relationship between the forms within and around the building dedicated to this spiritual activity, and the activity itself. This was not possible with this spiritual movement. The aim here was to create an outer shell for a particular spiritual current that, in its entirety and in every detail, even the most insignificant, seemed to have been born out of the entire thinking, feeling and willing of this spiritual movement itself. The point was to create something in the external forms, down to the most minute detail, which is an external expression of the inwardly willed in the same way as a word or anything else that is intended to express the content of this spiritual movement itself. In this matter one could not turn to some existing style, to some formal language that has been handed down historically. What is visible to the eye in the structures had to be created from the same spiritual foundation from which the content of the world view is drawn. This is not only the innermost motivation of the spiritual-scientific movement, which also calls itself anthroposophical, but also of the whole way in which this movement conceives of its task, its paths and its goals in relation to the great demands of the present civilized world.

This spiritual movement does not want some abstract theory, a science that only occupies the intellect; it does not want to be something that can only serve the one-sided satisfaction of the inner soul's interests; it wants to be something that can indeed give the most intimate satisfaction to those longings of the human soul that go to a world view. But it wants to anchor this Weltanschhauung so firmly in reality that it can intervene in all practical life. And so it is that what we were able to achieve alone at first was the direct creation of building and art forms for our cause, which are characteristic of this whole movement. In this particular sphere it has intervened in the most practical matters; but this spiritual movement will seek ways and indicate goals which will have an effect on all social and moral aspects of human coexistence, in the widest sense. Those who build on this spiritual science should not be unworldly idealists, but should become idealists who can allow what arises from their soul to flow directly into their practical life. And all that often goes so strangely in the thoughts of man should be harmonized with what is in man's innermost soul striving. The outer practice of life should become one with that through which man seeks his moral impulses, develops his social instincts, and engages in his religious worship. With such a view, however, this spiritual-scientific movement still stands today quite far removed from that which is striven for, willed, and even considered right by the broadest circles of today's educated people.

That this must be so, but also that it is necessary for such a spiritual movement to take its place in our modern civilization, can be seen when we turn our gaze to the way in which our whole life, in which we live today, has actually come together out of the most diverse currents. Today I would like to speak first of two main currents in our civilized life. We have today what we call our spiritual education, in which our religious convictions are rooted, in which our moral ideals arise, but in which our entire higher spiritual life is also rooted. We have that through which man is to educate his abilities and strengths for a spiritual education beyond the ordinary manual work. And we have, in addition to this, the practical activity of life, which has received such intensive impulses in recent centuries. We have around us a technology that has been inspired by our science but that also reaches deeply into social life. This technology has transformed modern civilized life in a way that would certainly have been completely incomprehensible to a person eight or nine centuries ago.

If we now ask ourselves where our intellectual and cultural life comes from, a life that not only dominates our higher schools but also unfolds its impulses down to our elementary schools, and where, on the other hand, our practical life, permeated by such an extensive technology, comes from, we get an answer that the man of the present still gives little account of. But one need only – and we will discuss this in more detail in the third lecture – consider what, so to speak, forms the basis of our Western civilization, especially its higher spiritual part, one need only look at Christianity in the broadest sense, so one will be able to say, even from a superficial world-historical point of view, If we look for the origin of our Christian views and convictions, which have shaped so much of our general intellectual outlook and convictions, and if we look for the origin of these beliefs and convictions, much more than we are willing to admit today, we will eventually come across the path that Christianity took from the Orient to the Occident. And one can continue to look around for the thread that one has gained in such a way, and one will find that those paths that arise when one traces back our spiritual education - those paths that lead into Latin-Roman, into Greek, from which our spiritual education still clearly shows its inner — that these paths ultimately lead to the special state of mind, to the special constitution of the soul, through which, millennia ago, before prehistoric times, our educational life, which is more directed towards the inner, the soul-spiritual, originated from the Orient. Only because this educational life, this inner spiritual view, has changed so much over the centuries and millennia, we no longer notice today how it derives its origin from what, as I said, took its origin before pre-Christian millennia from a state of mind that has become quite alien to today's civilized man. To understand this long journey, we must not only go back to what external historiography, which can be proven by documents, offers, we must go beyond what this historiography can say, and go back to prehistoric times. This is quite difficult for the modern man. For he thinks in his innermost being that he has “made such wonderful progress” in spiritual things in the course of the last few centuries, perhaps only in the very last century, that everything that lies in the times just mentioned must be referred to the realm of the childlike, the primitive.

But anyone who is able to see the ancient culture of the Orient clearly, without being clouded by such prejudices, will see that, although civilization and intellectual development were substantially different in pre-Christian times in the Orient, they offered human souls very intense spiritual content. But these were achieved in a completely different, I would say radically different, way than what is achieved today to influence people who are to acquire a higher education at secondary schools.

In the ancient Orient, anyone who was to acquire a higher intellectual culture had to undergo a complete transformation of their entire human being after being chosen by the leaders and directors of the educational institutions concerned. I am speaking of the educational institutions of this ancient Orient. They are cognitively accessible to the spiritual science that is being discussed here; but if one is unprejudiced enough, if one has a certain courage of thought and cognition, then one can also deduce from what has been handed down historically what was there prehistorically. One must speak of these educational institutions in such a way that what appears separately in us has an inner unity there. These educational institutions, to which everything that we actually still carry within us today refers, but in a significantly transformed form, were at the same time what we call a church today, but also what we call a school today, and were at the same time what we call an art institution today. Art, science, and religion formed a unity in the older human civilizations. And anyone who was to be developed in these educational institutions had to bring their whole being to development. They had to transform their whole being. They had to adopt a different form of thinking from the one that is effective in everyday life. He had to devote himself to contemplative thinking. He had to get used to dealing with thinking in the same way as one otherwise deals with the external world. But he also had to get used to transforming his entire emotional and volitional life. It is difficult to imagine today what was striven for in this direction. For how do we actually think about our lives? We admit: the child, that must be developed. The abilities and powers with which it is endowed when it comes into the world must be developed through education. Now, the child cannot educate itself; the others, the adults, initially have the view that the child's abilities and powers must be developed. And we also make the child different in terms of his thinking, feeling and will than when he is born into the world. But if we now expect the human being to continue this development even when he has already come into his own will, when others no longer take care of his development out of their own views, then the present human being finds this a strange expectation; for one should only be developed as long as one cannot take charge of this development oneself, cannot take it into one's own hands. Once one comes to a certain freedom with regard to one's own development, then one abandons evolution. This is the intellectual arrogance in which we live today. We think in the moment when we would be in a position to take our development into our own hands, we are already finished, and we place ourselves in the world as finished people.

Such a view did not exist within that civilization, but rather, the human being was developed further and further. And just as the child is able to recognize, feel, and do more and more after going through a certain training, as if there were a kind of awakening in the soul, so there is also such an awakening for the further development that the human being can now take into his own hands. The oriental mystery school student was educated for this awakening in soul activities, which were higher than the ordinary ones in the same sense that the higher abilities of adults are higher than those of a child. And it was believed that only the one who has gone through this later awakening in the best sense of the word in life is capable of judging the highest matters of life. And one was not prepared there merely to be a person who, when he reflects, when he develops a certain inner feeling and perception, feels satisfied through the knowledge of his connection with a spiritual world. No, it was not only the ability to develop a worldview that was developed there, but also those abilities through which social and outwardly technical life was guided, through which human coexistence was directed. The whole of life was influenced by spiritual education and development.

It is so difficult for us to place ourselves back in the prevailing situation in the Orient thousands of years ago, at the starting point of our more recent human development, because our whole soul constitution has changed with the further development of humanity, because we have come to different feelings and views about life. For those people who were steeped in the spiritual development I have just hinted at, it was instinctive to move towards such a transformation of the human being. These people's instincts were different. They tended towards such a vision of spiritual life after a certain transformation. Those who did not themselves undergo such training looked up, by virtue of the instincts that were also present in them, to what those who had been trained could give them. They followed them in the training of their inner soul life. But they also followed them in the ordering of their social life, in their attitude to the life of the whole.

The instincts that led to such a life have been transformed just as much as the special soul instincts of the child have been transformed in the adult in the context of today's overall culture of humanity. But through these instincts, in connection with what had been absorbed from the teachings of those educational institutions that can truly be called mysteries, there arose a human soul-disposition that could not but lead to seeking what is at the core of the human being, not here in the sphere of life that includes the human body, but to direct this whole view of life, also to rise, as it were instinctively, in the popular consciousness, to the higher man in man, to that in man which is essentially spiritual-soul-like, to that in man which, although it appears in the sensual body for the time between birth and death, is eternal in itself and belongs to a spiritual world, into which one instinctively looked. Something superhuman, if I may use this expression, which has become somewhat questionable through the followers of Nietzsche, something superhuman was seen as the essence of man. What man looked at as his own nature was something that went beyond this ordinary human being. In this respect, education was great: seeking out the human being in his essence in a spiritual-soul realm, which finds expression only in the physical, reaching out from the spiritual-soul world into the whole human being, directing this human being in his most material expressions from the spiritual-soul realm.

In many metamorphoses, through many transformations, what came about as the content of spiritual education was then worked out in the Orient and came to Greece in many transformations. There it appears, I might say, filtered. While in the oldest Greek period, which Friedrich Nietzsche called the tragic age of the Greeks, we can still see something of such a directing of the whole human being to the higher human being, in the later Greek period what can be called, in a more comprehensive sense, the dialectical, the purely intellectual essence of the human being emerges. The whole rich and intensely all-human content of an original culture was, as it were, filtered and further and further filtered, and in the most diluted state it came over into our age. And so it forms the one current of our life, which went right up to the spiritual and soul-filled human being and gave the human being an awareness through which he felt, in every moment of life, in the presence of the giver and in the most menial of tasks, as an external expression of the spiritual and soul-filled human being.

We shall see in the third lecture that the Mystery of Golgotha, from which Christianity emerged in its development on this earth, stands as a fact in itself, which can be grasped in different ways in different ages. But that from which the next understanding of this Mystery of Golgotha was shaped was what had been brought over from the Orient in the form of education. And in fact, in all that we still summon up today to comprehend Christianity, there lives that which is the last, albeit intellectually diluted, experience of the Orient. There is a certain idiosyncrasy to this entire soul configuration, which lives in us only in its final metamorphosis. And this idiosyncrasy must be sought in what follows.

As great and powerful as this world view is in terms of rising to the superhuman in man and descending to what Western civilization has risen to and become great in, this oriental civilization could never have done so. It could produce the superhuman, the spiritual-soul, it could not produce anything else. It is something I have already hinted at in other contexts here. Just at the time when the last metamorphosis of Oriental spiritual life began to take root in the West, a new spiritual life began to take shape, a spiritual life that has indeed produced enormous blossoms in our time, but blossoms of a completely different kind than the Oriental spiritual life just described. Let us look at these other blossoms.

I would like to point out the following fact again. As I said, I have already mentioned it here from other points of view. If we look through the current handbooks to see how many people live on the earth, we are told that about 1500 million people inhabit the earth. If we look at what is being worked on within human civilization, if we look at the human resources that are active in our human being and human life, then, strangely enough, we have to say something different. We would actually have to say that the Earth works as if it were inhabited not just by 1500 million people, but by 2200 million people. For three to four centuries, our world of machines has been working in such a way that work is being done that could also be done by people. We are replacing human labor with machine power. And if you convert what our machines achieve into human labor, you find, based on an eight-hour working day, that our work on earth involves seven to eight times a hundred million people, that is, not real people, but human labor, which is raised by machines.

This is something that is being introduced into human civilization by those spiritual forces that have arisen from the Western world, those spiritual forces that could never have developed in a straight line from that inner culture of spirit and soul that had so magnificently risen to the superhuman, to the higher human in the human, to the spiritual-soul human being. This culture remained at the level of certain heights of the soul. It did not penetrate what we call practical life today. It could never have brought dead metal or other material into such a context that a man would work among people, not a superman, but an underman, a man who is actually a homunculus compared to people of flesh and blood, a mechanism that introduces into human culture what otherwise people could introduce. This is the essence of our Western intellectual life. It is all the more characteristic of this Western intellectual life the farther west we go, where the mechanical man, the sub-human, has emerged from this intellectual life, just as the spiritual man, the super-human, has emerged from the Oriental intellectual life.

The fact that such a thing could be created in the West is not an isolated phenomenon of civilization. It is connected with the whole development of perception, feeling and thinking. The people who brought this homunculus into being are, in their whole state of mind, of course, greater in the other direction than the Oriental man. Today, one cannot understand life if one cannot see through this contrast in all its intensity. For on the one hand, this modern man still carries within him the last metamorphosis of that which came to him from the Orient, and on the other hand, he has been absorbing for centuries what is most essential to Western spiritual life. A balance has not yet been achieved. They stand there like two separate currents flowing apart: the current of the superman, though much changed, and the current of the subhuman, though only in its beginning. And the modern man, the man of the present, when he awakens to the consciousness that in his soul these two currents live abruptly, he suffers mentally, spiritually and probably also physically from the discord that arises from it. These are matters that become so deeply entwined in the unconscious and subconscious that something quite different from the actual cause enters not only into the consciousness of the person, but even into the constitution of his body. The modern human being finds himself nervous, finds himself dissatisfied with circumstances. There are hundreds of ways in which modern man feels a discord between himself and his surroundings, and how this discord is also expressed in his physical health. What has been mentioned is behind this. Behind this lies the great question: How can we, for the civilization of the future, harmonize what produced the subhuman with what lives in us in its last phase as the legacy of a civilization that has led to the spiritual-soul human being?

The spiritual science oriented towards anthroposophy seeks to take on board what is contained in the forces of our civilization, as I have just mentioned. It sees as a necessary goal, borne by the most significant demands of the time, a balancing between the soul forces that have led in one direction and the soul forces that have led in the other direction. And it is aware of how tremendously necessary and significant it is for humanity to find the paths to this goal. Instinctively, I have named the oriental spiritual life.

This spiritual life was born out of the instincts of ancient man. We have received it as an heirloom. But we have received it in an already intellectualized state; it has lived its way into our civilization in concepts and ideas of a rather abstract nature. For we no longer have the instincts that the former bearer of this spiritual life had. No matter how much one may fantasize about it, the fact remains that the present-day human being should return to naivety, that he should become instinctive again. In one respect, one is right to make such a demand. But naivety will express itself in a different way than before. The instinctive life will go in different directions. And to demand that we should become like people of previous millennia is the same as demanding that adults should play like children. No, we cannot go back to satisfy our deepest soul needs, into the civilization of past millennia, nor can we, if we do not want to fall into decadence, call out as Westerners “ex oriente lux”; no, we must not call out, the light comes to us from the Orient. For the light that is there today has also undergone many metamorphoses, and we cannot indulge in the illusion that what can still be found somewhere in the Orient today represents a spirituality that could somehow fruitfully reach into our civilization. It was a decadence of the worst kind when a theosophical movement asserted itself out of the religious and cultural needs of the Occident, out of the machine age, which had also formed a mechanistic world view that cannot satisfy man. It was decadence of the worst kind that one went into the area that today's decadent oriental succession of an intellectual life of earlier times has. When Indian culture was sought out today in order to incorporate it into Western theosophy, it showed just how barren one had become, how the creative powers no longer stir from one's own spiritual life, how one could only be great in the mechanistic, but how one could not find one's own way into those areas that the soul needs for its view of the true spiritual essence of man.

This tendency, by the way, underlies today's life all too much. Do we not see how those who are dissatisfied with present-day Christianity often inquire: What was Christianity like in the past? What was early Christianity like? Let us do it again as the early Christians did. As if we had not progressed since then, as if we did not need a new understanding of Christianity! Oh, the characteristic of infertility is everywhere, the impossibility of one's own creation. No, that is not what anthroposophically oriented spiritual science wants: borrowing from some ancient culture or from the present-day succession of an ancient culture.

Particularly when one grasps the concrete reality of the roots of anthroposophically oriented spiritual science, it is easy to see what has been said. You can hear how the present-day Oriental, I would even say, how old methods are reproduced, seeks the path to the spiritual in a certain breathing process, in a regulation of breathing, seeks to develop the human constitution through which one finds inner powers of knowledge and feeling and will, in order to ascend into the spiritual world, where the spiritual-soul human being is found, where true self-knowledge is. The Oriental of today does what the Oriental has always done in earlier centuries and millennia for such a path: he descends from the mere intellectual life of the head into the life of the whole human being. He knows the inner organic connection between the way we breathe in and the way we breathe out — I will speak of this again in the next few days — and the process of our imagining and thinking. But he also knows that thinking and imagining grow out of the breathing process. And so he wants to go back to the roots of thinking, to the breathing process. He seeks the path up to the spiritual world in a regulation of the breathing process. We cannot imitate this path. If we were to imitate it, we would sin against our human constitution, which has become quite different. The inner structure of our brain and nervous system is different from that from which the instinctive spiritual culture of the Orient emerged. If we were to consider it right today to devote ourselves only to a regulated breathing process, we would be denying the intellectual life. We would be denying what we are constituted for today.

In order to ascend the paths into the spiritual world, we must undergo other metamorphoses. We no longer have to go back from thinking to bodily processes such as breathing; we have to develop thinking itself. That is why today's spiritual science, living at the height of its time, must speak of an education of the intellectual life, but not of the intellectual life that is almost the only one known today. It is precisely this intellectual life that has made us dry and arid, as if parched, for the full scope of life. No matter how much the one-sided intellectualism is railed against from all sides in the present day, nothing is being done to really fight it. One has the feeling that mere concepts, even those taken from serious and conscientious science, leave the soul cold and do not lead it along the paths of true life. On the other hand, however, one does not find the possibility of directing this intellectual life in a direction that can be satisfying, because one wants to avoid precisely that which the spiritual science meant here must regard as the right thing for the modern human being. The modern human being cannot, when he realizes the dryness, the sobriety, the one-sidedness of mere intellectualism, draw on some, as one often says, pre-thought, primitive, elementary life to improve himself as an intellectual person. He cannot, I would say, seek in a life of blind rage, which one does not understand, that which he wants to externally affix to intellectual civilization.

Therefore, anthroposophically oriented spiritual science seeks, through the practice-based development of the soul, that which modern man actually longs for in order to truly satisfy his soul. I have described in detail in the second part of my “Occult Science”, in my book “How to Know Higher Worlds” and in other of my writings, how this path is to be followed in a way that is appropriate for Western man. In principle, I will only hint at the fact that it is a matter of taking hold of the soul life in such a way that one avoids developing concepts, notions and ideas in the highest degree, that one does not develop only the life of thought in a one-sided way, but that one exercises the soul in such a way that the most living feelings are connected with the thoughts themselves, which arise, combine and separate. While today the one-sided intellectualist is sober in his thought life, but also lets this thought life wander in the alien fields of science or other fields and otherwise thoughtlessly lives in life, that which anthroposophically oriented spiritual science calls its practice seeks to deepen into thinking, but at this deepening of thinking of thinking, so that one can rejoice, become angry, hate and love what one only thinks, how one hates and loves people, how one becomes angry at outer events, so that a whole inner life arises, arises in such liveliness as the outer life is. The books mentioned are intended to bear witness to the fact that this can be done systematically.

But then, when a person seeks out such paths, when he really develops the forces of knowledge, feeling and will that otherwise lie dormant within him, when he therefore takes his development in hand not from the body, as in the ancient oriental culture, in a regulated breathing process, but from the soul and from the spirit, then he finds the way into the spiritual world. And what forces does he apply? He applies the forces through which his civilization has become great. He applies the forces that he also applied in building his machines, in developing his mechanistic Copernican, Galilean, Keplerian, Newtonian astronomical conceptions. The powers of imagination and ingenuity that are developed by our minds and souls in our machines, what lives in our astronomy, in our chemistry, what lies in our social life, all this is being cultivated. The Oriental had none of this. He could not have continued his spiritual life to the point of developing these powers of the soul. He had to go to the breathing of the body in order to follow the path of knowledge. We must start from the point where we start in our outer practical life. We must proceed from the same soul and spiritual powers that live in our mechanistic culture, which has produced seven to eight hundred million specimens of the subhuman. We must develop a new orientation, that is, a vision of the higher, the eternal, the immortal human being from the most sensual, the most mechanical, from that which proves to be the path to the subhuman in our Western civilization.

However, not everything that wants to be part of modern civilization is appealing to modern people. For this modern man, he demands that the child should develop, because the child cannot yet make its own decision about its development. At the moment when he is supposed to make the decision himself, he no longer allows himself to be involved in the development; at that point he is done; at that point he allows himself to be elected to the city council, to parliament, because he knows everything. One knows everything. There is no need to descend to the development of abilities through which one knows something. One is a critic for everything, if only one has come to the awareness of one's arbitrariness, if only the others are no longer allowed to mess around in relation to development. This modern man must seek the way to ascend again to those heights where one finds the spiritual-soul man.

Now the fact of the matter is that for the time being the inner urge to seek this spiritual-soul-man, to tread the path to these realizations, is still a renunciation-filled one, for this path demands a life that certainly takes place in pain and suffering, a life that not everyone has to live today, not everyone can live, nor does everyone need to live. But just as not everyone can become a chemist, but the results of chemistry can be useful for all people, just as not everyone can become an astronomer, but the results of astronomy can appeal to all souls, so there can be few spiritual researchers, but the results of this spiritual research can be grasped by ordinary common sense, as I have often said here. The few spiritual researchers can communicate their spiritual insights, and common sense will understand them. But that is precisely what people today deny. They come and say: What you spiritual researchers communicate to us may be beautiful fantasies; but we dissect it logically, we do not accept it, because it does not show itself before our human understanding. We have not yet trained ourselves to see higher things.

One does experience very strange things in this area. Just recently another pamphlet has appeared about what I, as an anthroposophically oriented worldview, have to represent before humanity today. A man who is, well, a “university professor” says, where he gives me the brush-off as a philosopher and, as he says, as a theosophist: Yes, there Steiner claims that one must also become a chemist in order to understand chemical things, a physicist in order to understand physical things; one can admit that to him. But now it is very strange how this gentleman behaves strangely. He says: Everyone can agree with what chemists claim about this or that, because if he becomes a chemist himself, he will see that it is correct; everyone can agree with what physicists claim, because if he becomes a physicist himself, he will see that what physicists say is correct. But to understand what spiritual science says, one would have to develop special abilities.

But I am not saying anything else. Just as a person must become a chemist in order to judge chemistry, and as a person must become a physicist in order to judge physics, so a person must become a scholar of spiritual science in order to decide on spiritual science. But now, continuing his text, that strange - perhaps not so strange - university professor says: It is not a matter of what Steiner claims only being justified before people trained in spiritual science, but of it having to be justified before me! That is, it must be justified before someone who not only has no idea about it, but also does not want to get one.

This is, of course, a “common sense” written in quotation marks, which is not good at understanding what spiritual science has to offer. The unbiased common sense will grasp it. Yes, in the future people will perhaps think quite differently about these things than they are accustomed to thinking in many circles today. The world is there. The philosophers have always argued about the world. Well, philosophers will still have common sense. And one can even say, if one is unbiased: philosophy is better than its reputation. But philosophers argue. And if you are unprejudiced, you can even grant a certain acumen in the philosophical field to someone who says the opposite of what another is saying, again out of a certain acumen. Yes, if you are unprejudiced here in this field, you come to a very strange judgment about common sense. It is there. People generally speak in this common sense. But it is not at all suitable for understanding the world, otherwise philosophers would not need to argue. This ordinary common sense does not seem to be at all suitable for grasping the world that is presented to the senses externally, just as it is. Try to see if it can grasp what spiritual science has to say, and you will see: the way will open up for you to grasp precisely that. It is wishy-washy, not even mere prejudice, to say: humanitarians also claim different things; one this or the other that. This is said without knowledge of the facts. If one gets to know the facts, one will no longer claim this.

Of course, many a prejudice and many a preconception will have to be overcome if the anthroposophically oriented spiritual science referred to here is to be integrated into modern life. But it will have to be integrated. For the way will have to be found to combine the two spiritual currents you have been shown today. We cannot become reactionaries in order to return to earlier intellectual formations. We must place ourselves in that which the scientific, mechanistic age has produced. But we must spiritualize the forces that have brought forth a Copernicus, a Galileo, a Giordano Bruno, a Röntgen, a Becquerel and so on down to our own day, we must spiritualize these forces so that through the same forces of the human soul, through which we build machines, we also ascend to the knowledge of the spiritual-soul human being. Then we will no longer merely speak of the spirit, but we will be able to give content to the striving for the spirit.

This is what is so disturbing to the deeper observer of contemporary civilization: people today talk a lot about the spirit, but they give no content to this talk about the spirit. This gives rise to world views on the one hand, and to the practice of life in an unorganized way connected with these world views on the other, just as our spiritually scientific world view would be out of place in a house built in an old architectural style. Our spiritually scientific world view wants to live in structures that are born of itself. It should create and can create in such a way that it is able to permeate the external material life down to the technical details and the social interconnections. Then this spiritual science will be able to become the bearer of a civilization that finds the right ways to the goals that have been hinted at today. Then this spiritual science will no longer allow that life to flourish, of which one can say: Well, some strive towards the spirit again; they demand that the person who works hard in the factory no longer works only in the factory, but that he has enough time left over to devote to the spirit as well. Oh, no, spiritual science does not demand that one has to work in the factory and, when one locks the door behind oneself, then steps out of the factory to find spiritual life there. No, spiritual science demands the opposite: that when you enter the factory to go to work, you carry the spirit with you, so that every machine is imbued with the spirit of that which also carries the world view to the highest heights of knowledge, of the immortal. Spiritual science does not want to leave time for the spirit, but to imbue all time with what man can find as the content of his spirit.

Now, people often cry out for the spirit today. A book about socialism has just been published - there are all sorts of heartfelt and sometimes sensible views - by Robert Wilbrandt, a professor at the University of Tübingen. It sounds: Yes, but we will not get anywhere with socialism if we do not find the new spirit, the new soul. So on the last pages of the book, the cry for the spirit, for the soul! But if you take such a man, such a personality, to the point where the spirit is given content, where you not only interpret in the abstract in terms of spirit and soul, where you speak of spiritual and soul content as science otherwise speaks of natural content, then the personality in question withdraws, because they do not have the courage to profess the real spirit that is full of content. And so we see it in many. They cry out for the spirit. But when the spirit seeks a real content, they do not come forward. They remain in merely pointing to an abstract union of human souls with the spiritual. This is what anthroposophically oriented spiritual science seeks as a path: the path to real spiritual content, to a real spiritual world, out of our own organic powers of knowledge as a goal: to develop the merely inorganic two currents that have been joined together in us, Orientalism and Occidentalism, to form a striving that finds its way out of our own striving, both down into the mechanism and up into the highest spirituality.

I will conclude today by saying only the following, in anticipation of the further elaboration of this theme that I will give tomorrow and the day after tomorrow, when it will be possible to characterize many things more broadly than I could in today's introduction. The call for a new spirituality is echoing today in many hearts and minds, and in a certain way people already sense that our misfortune, which has manifested itself so terribly in the last five years, is connected in the outer world with the fact that our spirit has reached an impasse. That a wall must be broken through in order to make spiritual progress. There is a sense that we cannot make progress in the social, the political, or the outwardly technical spheres without a new spirit. A man who may not always have played a very favorable role, but perhaps a wiser one than some of his colleagues among the “statesmen” - I say that in quotation marks when I speak of statesmen today - in recent years, has now also - statesmen and generals write war memoirs today, after all - has now also written his war memoirs. They end with the following words:

“War will continue, albeit in a modified form. I believe that future generations will call the great drama that has dominated the world for five years not world war, but world revolution...”

These are the words of Czernin, the Austrian statesman. So at least one person can see how things are connected, even if only to a very limited extent. And he continues:

”... and we shall know that this world revolution has only begun with the world war. Neither Versailles nor Saint Germain will create a lasting work. In this peace lies the disintegrating seed of death. The convulsions that shake Europe are not yet diminishing. Like a mighty earthquake, the subterranean rumblings continue. Soon, the earth will open again and again, here or there, hurling fire against the sky; again and again, events of an elemental nature and force will sweep devastatingly across the lands. Until all that is reminiscent of the madness of this war and the French peace has been swept away.

Slowly, with unspeakable agony, a new world will be born. Future generations will look back on our time as if it were a long, evil dream, but day always follows the darkest night. Generations have sunk into the grave, murdered, starved, succumbed to disease. Millions have died in the quest to destroy and annihilate, with hatred and murder in their hearts.

But other generations are rising, and with them a new spirit. They will build up what war and revolution have destroyed. Every winter is followed by spring. That, too, is an eternal law in the cycle of life, that resurrection follows death.

Blessed are those who will be called upon to help build the new world as soldiers of labor.

Here, too, the call for the new spirit arises from the limited statesmanship of the old days. Now, this call for the new spirit must only be understood and take root truly and earnestly enough in people's souls. For even the most external events in life are connected with the most internal ones, the most external material events with the most internal spiritual experiences. And when we look at what the spirit, which reached its peak at the beginning of the 20th century, has lived out in the events of recent years, we will understand that the call for a new spiritual life must come true. With this new spiritual life, anthroposophically oriented spiritual science would like to have its ways and goals connected to the building of the world, just as those spiritual endeavors that fight it are visibly connected to the terrible events of recent years.

Just recently I read a remarkable lecture that was given in the Baltic region – note the date – on May 1, 1918. A physicist's lecture on May 1, 1918, ends with the words: “The world war has shown that the spiritual aspirations of the present day, the scientific work of the present day, are still too isolated.” The world war – roughly speaking, this physicist says – has taught us that in the future, what is being worked on in the scientific laboratories must be in an inner organic connection, in a continuous inner exchange of ideas, with what is being worked on in the general staffs. The most intimate alliance must be sought – so this physicist says – between science and the general staff. He sees the salvation of the future in this!

As one can see, the science of the past can even view alliances that are formed between it and the most destructive forces of humanity as an ideal. Anthroposophically oriented spiritual science would like to form an alliance between its spiritual striving and all truly constructive forces of human civilization.

Before I proceed to the important consequences of spiritual science, which deal with the moral, social and religious forces of the human being, that are particularly relevant to the present day, I would like to insert a consideration today of what spiritual science has to say about the physical and mental health of the human being. Such a consideration as today's is justified because, after all, a person can only set humane and dignified moral goals, set social tasks and bring forth a corresponding religious life from the depths of his soul if these goals and achievements are based on what can be called his physical, mental and spiritual health.

You will assume from the outset that when we speak about the foundations of health in the spiritual-scientific, anthroposophical sense, then the spiritual and soul factors that come into consideration will be particularly touched upon. Now, however, such a consideration immediately encounters one of the oldest and, one might say, most controversial questions of human world view: the question of the connection between the soul and spirit in the human being and the physical body in general. Much has been thought about and much has been investigated with the means of various scientific fields regarding this question: How does the spiritual-soul of man actually relate to the physical body?

The spiritual science meant here must take the view that it cannot regard this question, as it is usually asked, from the outset as a correctly asked one. The usual question is: How does the human spirit or soul relate to the body, to the physical organization? This does not take into account whether the soul condition and soul strength that we can call the arbitrary of the human being, might not perhaps found a special relationship between spirit and body in different ways in different people, whether certain circumstances might not intervene through precisely these forces that the human being develops in his soul, in his physical organization. And this question can actually only be treated by a spiritual-scientific consideration, such as the one I took the liberty of presenting to you yesterday. For if we consider what has led the science of the West to its triumphs in the sense in which it was characterized yesterday, we must say that it is not an element that leads to the human being, but rather an element that, in a certain respect, actually removes us from the human being.

What, in particular, does the scientist who has adopted the principles of the last three to four centuries strive for in his science? He strives in particular to gain such ideas about external things and also about man, in which as little as possible, or even better, no human feelings and impulses of will interfere. The more one is able to keep apart from scientific observation everything that can be called subjective and personal, the more one believes that the ideal of this scientific observation has been fulfilled. The physicist and the biologist no longer believe that they can fulfil their task if they mix anything into their findings that can only be grasped inwardly in the soul.

If I may recall what I characterized yesterday as an ideal of oriental world view, which admittedly belongs to a distant past, it must be said that since the whole person was brought up for that transformation, for that development of human nature, which in the Orient formed the basis of a world view, this method was the complete opposite of what appears to us today as a scientific ideal.

Now, when we devote ourselves to such things, we have to discard many of the prejudices that apply, I would say, as a matter of course. However, in a short time these will no longer be matters of course, but prejudices that have been created by the education of humanity over the last three to four centuries.

If we really delve into the fundamental character of what characterizes all our thinking, impregnated as it is with science, we find that only one part, one link in the whole of human nature, actually finds favor with this thinking today : that which may be called the intellectual element, the element that rises to thoughts free of feeling and will, that wants to add nothing from its own subjective human nature to this process of imagining. But as a result, the whole human being as such does not participate in the most important scientific work, but only that part of the human being that is the bearer of the intellectual soul life.

What I characterized yesterday as the truly Western striving for a spiritual-scientific world view wants to develop the soul forces that produce a world view out of the whole of human nature, without returning to oriental ideals. Therefore, yesterday I had to characterize the paths of knowledge that lead to such an anthroposophically oriented spiritual-scientific world view in the following way. While the man who is merely scientific develops intellectualized thinking through his experiments or his observations of nature, the one who wants to ascend to a spiritual-scientific view must draw purified feelings and purified will impulses from the depths of his soul life. He must indeed immerse himself in a world of thought. He must be able to work in an intellectual way just as only the most exact scientist can. But he stands in a different way to intellectuality with his humanity than this exact scientist does. He immerses himself in worlds of ideas, he immerses himself in that which otherwise only the pale, shadowy thought delivers. But just as one otherwise only participates in the events of external life with one's sympathies and antipathies, with one's whole emotional world, just as one otherwise only participates in the demands of life with one's will impulses, so in the case of someone who wants to seek the path into the spiritual world in the sense of this spiritual science, feeling, willing, sympathies and antipathies accompany thoughts and ideas. We connect an inner element of sympathy or antipathy, an inner volition, with the way in which the ideas work, how they relate to one another. We would otherwise only have this kind of connection with a person of flesh and blood, or with nature in a lesser sense, or we develop it when we are hungry or thirsty or when other tasks of ordinary life arise. The inner life is as active in the volition under the influence of hunger and thirst as it is in the feelings that one develops towards loved or hated people, as it is in the methods that are to lead to spiritual insight. The whole human being, with all their feelings and intentions, participates in these methods. This develops different insights, different relationships to the external world and also to other people than mere intellectual activity.

If the insights that become the content of spiritual science in this way – which, after all, are a closed book to the broadest sections of contemporary humanity, not because the spiritual scientists seal this book with seven seals, but because those who should approach this spiritual science so that they need not approach it, first seal it with the seven seals of their prejudices and their scorn and derision - when this content of spiritual science is then taken up by people, when the soul of the human being unites with it, it therefore also works differently than the content of mere intellectual knowledge. It takes hold of the whole soul of the human being directly. It pours energies and forces into the whole soul of the human being. And when the content of spiritual science is gained in such a way that it corresponds to the great world-law connections, then it pours, so to speak, the same forces into the human soul from which the human organism is built. For the human organism is built out of the forces of the world. Spiritual scientific knowledge, in turn, goes back to these forces of the world. Thus, there must be an inner harmony between what is recognized through spiritual science from the perspective of world law and what arises from the organization of the human being as the human being himself, in that the human being receives his own organization from the foundations of the world order.

But this has the consequence that there is a completely different relationship between what one takes in as the content of spiritual science and the whole development of the human being, and what only occupies the intellect, such as natural science or, as today, social science and the like, and this human being himself. But there is something that obscures this relationship. This makes it difficult for anyone who has not yet penetrated to the actual meaning of spiritual science to form a precise idea of such things. It must be said that just as the healthy nature of the human being is organized in a healthy way out of the world, so too is the content of spiritual science gained in a healthy way and can therefore, since it encompasses the whole human being, not only have an effect on the intellect but also on the whole human being. If one says this, then today, anyone who is a layperson in spiritual science will draw the following conclusion. He will say: Of course, I will hypothetically admit that you, as a spiritual scientist, draw healthy thoughts from your view of the world. Thoughts that are intellectual and shadowy have no effect on the human organism; yours are conceived with reference to the whole nature of man, they therefore have an effect on the human organism, and we shall be able to use them, let us assume hypothetically, in the sense of healthy human nature. Let us say, then, that the thoughts which you develop as healthy thoughts through your spiritual science will be used in such a way that we imbibe them and let them take effect in us, and then, like a medicine, they can work against the aberrations of human nature. |

However obvious this hypothesis may be, and however much credence it has found among certain superstitious people, it corresponds little to reality as I have just stated it. And here it is necessary, I might say, to touch on the foundation that must be laid in order to understand the interaction between healthy spiritual and mental life and healthy physical life in the right way. When a human being enters physical existence through birth or through conception from spiritual worlds, by clothing himself with a physical body, we see that what the soul and spirit takes on with this physical body needs time to take effect. The child arrives in the physical world with its predispositions. But it must grow up. We can observe how, from month to month, from year to year, from decade to decade, the physical organization first brings forth what is spiritually and soulfully predisposed in the human being. Those who, through the spiritual science referred to here, acquire the ability to penetrate into the real connection between the spiritual and soul life and the bodily and physical, come to the following realization, not through some kind of logical fantasy, but through a penetrating, very conscientious observation of life that is continued over long periods of time:

Just as the whole nature of the human being takes time to integrate as a spiritual-soul element of the physical organization, so everything that we take in spiritually and soulfully first takes time to integrate into the physical-bodily organization. So when I, as an eight-year-old child, or as a twenty-year-old, or only as a fifty-year-old, take in something of spiritual-soul content, when something of such content takes hold of my soul, then this content is, in relation to my bodily organization where it enters my soul, as young as the soul of a child in relation to the bodily organization, and such soul content takes time to take effect in the body. Therefore, one cannot hope that, in the manner of American thought healing, one can invent thoughts that are introduced into the person like a liquid medicine and that work immediately. No, the transformation that the spiritual-soul content undergoes as it increasingly penetrates the bodily-physical requires time. One spiritual-soul content needs less time, the other more, but time must elapse between the moment when a spiritual-soul content is taken up in the abstract, when we penetrate it cognitively, and the state when it has organized us thoroughly.

What I am telling you here is not just any old idea that can be carelessly tacked onto life's phenomena. Rather, it is something that is discovered as conscientiously as any laboratory or clinical result, and much more conscientiously. In such investigations, one starts out from the paths that ordinary, everyday spiritual assimilation undergoes in the human being, in that the human being can later conjure up from the depths of his soul that which he has once taken into that soul, in terms of memory. In the course of their lives, the vast majority of people simply bypass the paths that the soul life takes in relation to memory; they do not observe how it is quite differently experienced when we remember something that we experienced decades ago and something that we experienced three days ago. We certainly draw both from the depths of our soul. But what we experienced three days ago or even three years ago proves, to someone with the ability to observe such things, to be something that is drawn, I might say, from the shallower depths of our soul life, and is still entirely mental content. What one remembers as an older person from one's childhood experiences is what one brings up from the depths of the soul. If one observes the process, one sees how it is already intimately intertwined with the whole body, how it permeates our body like a soul blood, how it has strongly taken on the character of the forces that denote the habitual in us.

This, of course, is only the beginning of the detailed method by which it is observed how, over time, what we absorb as spiritual-mental content first unites with the physical body. From this you will realize how spiritual science must demand that its way of caring for physical and mental health be considered not only among the arts that have an immediate effect, but how it appeals to what, first of all, is child-rearing, and secondly, what is national education and national life. For spiritual science must work with foresight, I would say with a prophetic vision, with regard to human health.

If you see through what I am touching on here, you will only then realize what it means when spiritual-scientific impulses are incorporated into educational methods, when our children are actually educated in such a way that the educational impulses are kept in a spiritual-scientific sense; and then the things that are taught to children are imbued, not with spiritual-scientific theories – the world has no need to fear that – but with a spiritual-scientific attitude, with a spiritual-scientific disposition of soul, and above all with a spiritual-scientific pedagogical fire. This will penetrate the child's mind, and will then connect with the soul and physical organization, growing and, because it is healthy, merging with the human organization in a healthy way, making it healthy and strong, and resistant to external influences.

When the world once realizes the full significance of what spiritual science can achieve here, then gradually all the beautiful theories of infectious diseases and the like, which today are only viewed in a one-sided way, will not disappear, but they will become less important. Much more attention will be paid to the way in which bacilli and bacteria enter our organism than to how strong we have become in soul and spirit to resist these invasions. This strength in human nature will not require an external remedy, but the remedy that strengthens people internally from the spirit and from the soul through a healthy spiritual-scientific content. In this way, public health care is placed on a fundamentally different basis through spiritual science than anyone could have dreamt of, who believes that the salvation of human development can only lie in the continuation of current views.

Among many things, I would like to draw attention to just one, to which I have already drawn the attention of some prominent figures here in this city from other points of view. Today, for example, in education, in teaching, an enormous value is placed on the so-called contemplation, and rightly so, because within certain limits it is good to lead the child directly to the external or internal contemplation and to let his ideas and concepts be imagined by him in such a way that he draws them himself. But not everything that is needed for the child's development into a human being can be brought to it in this way. And so much must enter into the child merely by looking up to his educator, to his teacher as his authority, to the one who develops a certain fire in educating, in teaching, who transmits imponderables from himself to the child with his fire. There will then be some things that the child absorbs in the belief that the authority believes in them; but it does not yet understand them. Then the time may come, perhaps fifteen or twenty years after the child has left school, when he remembers: “You learned that then and didn't understand it. Now you have matured, now you are bringing it up from the depths of your soul. Now you understand it.” Anyone who is familiar with the soul life of a human being knows that such an understanding, mediated by later ripening, of what one has carried in one's soul for years, perhaps decades, develops forces that strengthen the human being inwardly; nothing pours such energy into the will from the innermost part of the soul as learning to understand something through one's own ripening power, something that one took in years ago on authority, on someone's saying. In this way, pedagogy can be combined with ideal and spiritual hygiene. When such far-reaching views are fully integrated into our public health care system, then the spiritual that is rooted in humanity will be able to truly unfold its energies, which are so beneficial for humanity. While everything we absorb through our intellect and its development is, so to speak, detached from the human being and therefore cannot have an effect on the human being, what is drawn from the whole human nature, the spiritual-scientific, can also have an effect on this whole human nature. And if, in the field of medicine, we look not only for momentary success but also for a system of health care that takes into account the laws of the world, and thus also the laws of time, we have the opportunity to work in this direction with tremendous benefit. Unfortunately, however, the nature of present-day humanity is such that it does not like to look at that which eludes the moment and which, I might say, goes into the great with its effect. Modern man would prefer to take leave of the laws of the world and become ill at will. You will understand that I do not mean this quite literally, but it is something that human nature tends towards. And then, again, he would like to be cured in the twinkling of an eye. But what must be borne in mind is that the strong inner energy should be developed in individual people's education, and indeed throughout their whole lives, in order to really bring to fruition the healing powers of the soul, of the spirit, in people. From this point of view, it will be seen that physical and mental health depend very much on the development of such a strong and vigorous soul life in people that this strong and vigorous soul life can actually intervene in the physical being.

To do this, it is necessary to broaden our perspective over longer periods of time. That which affects our intellect does not affect our will at the same time. And although we may never have influenced our will, we can strain our will at any age with ever so healthy ideas and thoughts, in order to act on our soul from the intellect, we will not succeed. For from the intellect, no spiritual-soul content can directly intervene in human nature. We must also influence the will. We influence the will through everything that arouses our interest in the world, that arouses our share, our loving participation in the world. People often go through the world, I would say, with a certain mental deficiency. Of course, there are also deeper causes, but one of the causes of imbecility is that such people have not understood how to develop a broad and deep interest in everything that lives and works around them when they were children, because this development of interest affects the will. And only when the will has been strengthened in this way can that which affects the intellect later gain influence over the whole human being. The worst thing that can happen to a person in terms of their physical and mental health is that their physical organization separates from their spiritual being. In mediumship, this separation of the physical organization of the human being from his soul and spiritual being is brought about in an almost experimental way. We see that the spiritual-soul being is virtually paralyzed, put to sleep for a certain time, so that the bodily-physical, with which, however, the spiritual is also always connected, seems to work automatically. Seen from the right point of view, mediumship is nothing more than a real illness, a real discord between the spiritual-mental, which has become quite unenergetic, and the physical-bodily, which therefore gains the upper hand. Therefore, mediumship, when it is radically extended, is always associated with the paralysis of the will, with the entire paralysis of the soul of the medium concerned. And since the moral can only arise from the soul's energy, there is also, as a rule, a certain moral decline associated with mediumship. It is precisely from the insight into the connection between spiritual and mental health and physical and bodily health that everything that is the dark side of mediumship can truly be seen.

If only those who judge mediumship without knowledge of the actual essence of spiritual science did not all too often lump spiritual science together with all the aberrations of the zeitgeist or of modern times in general, as I am pointing out here! It is certainly easier to appeal to spiritless mediumship to learn something about the spiritual world than to appeal to spiritual science, which demands effort. When one appeals to mediumship, one has the spirit reported by a medium, but first one has to eliminate the spirit. It is a convenient method to get to the spirit. Spiritual science, however, demands that one not switch off the spirit in another in order to learn something about the spirit, but that one bring the spirit within oneself to higher development and unfoldment, so that one can direct one's forces into the spiritual world and experience the peculiarities of the spiritual world there. If one were to look at spiritual science without prejudice, one would see how it is the universal remedy against such aberrations as those to which I have now alluded in a few words.

Thus, it can be said that health care is a necessary consequence of what spiritual science wants to bring into human development. But of course human nature is subject to a wide variety of influences. No one should interpret what I have discussed so far as if I meant that the cultivation of spiritual science should one day eliminate all diseases from the world. I certainly do not mean that at all. Diseases have their causes. The process of healing is more important than the knowledge of their causes. And here it is a matter of the fact that spiritual science also has something to say, not only about the care of health, which has spiritual scientific foundations, but that, as with all aspects of life, it also has something to say about medicine itself. It is a fact, though denied by many because they do not want to admit the truth on this point, but it nevertheless exists, that many people who have really thought things through and have gone through medical studies today, when they then feel abandoned to suffering humanity, are afflicted by the most bitter mental anguish because they then realize what demands the human organism makes on human insight when it strays from the healthy into the diseased, and how little can be gained for this medical work from the means and methods of knowledge of the purely scientific approach. The shadowy side of mere natural science observation is clearly shown in medicine, which, incidentally, also has a light side with regard to the observation of mere external nature. In medicine, the dark side is there. For one has only to consider the following: This natural science, it may be said once more, places its main emphasis on completely excluding the human being by looking at the world in an intellectualistic way and seeking its natural laws in an intellectualistic way through experiments. One learns only what can be learned from observation of the effect of this or that remedy on the sick person, of the effect in general of this or that natural product on the human being. But one lacks the inner vision of the connection, firstly, of the whole human nature, but secondly, of the connection between what is produced outside in nature, be it as food or as a remedy, and the human being itself. And only when one wishes to proceed from pure natural science to medicine in such an unprejudiced way does one realize what it means to exclude the human being from the point of view and then to apply what has been gained from such a point of view to human nature. Natural science excludes everything that can arise in human nature in order, as it says, to arrive at true objectivity. And it does achieve objectivity. But this objectivity does not include the human being. Man first excludes himself. It is no wonder that he does not include the human being in the science that he is now developing. Now this science is to be applied to the human being. It cannot be applied because no consideration has been given to the human being.

The complete opposite is the case with anthroposophically oriented spiritual science. Here, the whole human being is called upon to gain insights into the human being and the world. In this case, however, the insights are also based differently. In order to make myself clear on this point, I would also like to recall today how the spiritual science that is meant here is basically only one expression of what was established in the first element as a new knowledge of nature by the much-misunderstood natural scientist, not the poet Goethe. It is precisely for this reason that we call our building out on the hill in Dornach the Goetheanum, because we want to practise Goetheanism, but not the kind of Goetheanism practised by Goethe researchers who believe that the Goethean spirit came to an end in 1832 and that in order to practise Goethean science one has to study what this Goethean spirit has produced. No, we are pursuing a Goetheanism that does not go back to 1832, but which is a Goetheanism through the continuing influence of the Goethean spirit today from 1920. But what appears in Goethe in a very elementary way can today be grasped in a higher education by the course of human development.

Now I want to mention something seemingly quite remote, but by means of which I will be able to illustrate how one can reach the highest heights of spiritual science, starting from Goetheanism. Goethe proceeded from the similarities, the relationships, especially in the nature of living beings. It became clear to him how the whole plant is only a complicated leaf and a single plant leaf is an entire plant, only simply formed. Thus, Goethe saw in every part of an organism the metamorphosis, the transformed form of the other part. He sought to discover the origin of the enigmatic forms of the human skull bones, namely for the unbiased observer. As he himself recounts, he once went to the Jewish cemetery in Venice and found a sheep's skull that had split particularly well. The bones had fallen apart in such a way that their shape had a direct effect on Goethe's soul. And as he looked at this shape, he said to himself: Yes, these skull bones are nothing other than transformed, metamorphosed backbone bones. If the simple, almost ring-shaped vertebrae of the spine transform themselves – so Goethe believed – in such a way that certain extensions grow stronger and certain bulges flatten, then the skull bones arise from the transformed growth of the simple vertebrae of the spine. In this way, Goethe was able to express for the first time what, with a certain modification, is also a result of our present-day human anatomy: that the skull bones are transformed spinal cord vertebrae. In connection with this, because it will also explain the matter I am referring to, I may relate a kind of personal experience. These Goethean views have been particularly close to me since the late 1870s. Well, I already started writing about the Goethean scientific world view back then. This view of the transformation of the skull bones, the vertebral bones into skull bones, was also part of what I developed in more detail for the Goethean world view. But I said to myself, how could it have escaped such a universal mind as Goethe's that when one speaks of the transformation of the vertebral bones into skull bones, one must proceed to the view of the transformation of the simple nervous structure in the spinal cord into the complicated structure of the brain, so that one must also look at the brain as a transformation of the simple nervous structure that sits inside the spinal cord vertebra. And when I was appointed to Weimar at the end of the 1880s, to work at the Goethe and Schiller Archive on the new edition or the first edition of Goethe's unpublished writings, it was naturally a pleasant task for me to examine whether there might be something to be found somewhere, a clue that Goethe also had this view of the transformation of form of the brain from simple nerve ganglia. And lo and behold, when I got hold of a notebook with poorly written pencil strokes from the 1790s, I found Goethe had noted down this view of the human brain exactly as I had suspected!

I would like to point out another way of looking at things – admittedly, it is only just emerging in Goethe in an elementary form – a way of looking at things other than that which merely observes the laws of nature in an intellectual way. I would like to point out a way of looking at things that is instinctively within Goethe, which draws on the whole human being. In the kind of dissecting, analytical experimental method that is common in natural science today, one does not see such transformations correctly, because one must take everything into account, not just what one can measure and count. One must also take into account what one can only observe in terms of its intensity, its quality. In spiritual science, one must advance even further. There one must actually observe things according to the qualities that the spirit of the world, the soul of the world, impresses upon them, which are not found in the external scientific method.

Then one arrives at such results as the one that one might believe to be perhaps only an aperçu, but which is not an aperçu, but the result of spiritual scientific work, which I may say I have been working on for more than thirty years, that result which divides man into three, I would say, subdivisions of his nature. It is usually assumed that what is spiritual in man is soul-like and bound to his sensory nervous system. That is indeed today's one-sided view – the one who is familiar with the development of science understands that it had to come to this – that today man believes that the spiritual-soul life depends solely and exclusively on the nervous system. You can read what I have to say about this point from spiritual scientific investigations in my book 'Von Seelenrätseln' (Puzzles of the Soul), which was published two years ago. There I tried to show that only the intellectual-sensual life is connected to the sensory nervous system as its tool in human nature, that which observes objects sensually and processes them intellectually. In contrast, the human being's emotional life is directly, not only indirectly, connected to the rhythmic life in the human being, that rhythmic life which includes the respiratory system, the blood circulation system connected to it, and which is connected to the carrier of the intellectual system in a peculiar way, namely like this: we have the so-called cerebral fluid in us as the most important component of our brain. Our brain is, however, first and foremost a nervous organ that has to process what is conveyed by the senses. But this brain floats in brain water. And this brain water, which fills our main cavity, our spinal cord cavity, has a special task. When we exhale, the brain water sinks from top to bottom. The diaphragm rises, causing the brain water to sink; the opposite happens when we inhale. So we are in a continuous rhythm of brain water rising and falling.

This rhythm of the ascending and descending brain water is the outer carrier of the emotional life in man. And through the interaction of that which the brain nerves experience with that which arises as such a rhythm through the brain water, that which is the exchange between feelings and thoughts arises.

This is an area where anthroposophically oriented knowledge of the human being has a long way to go if the human being is to be properly understood in his soul-spiritual and physical being. Only when one has developed those methods of knowledge within oneself, which are characterized in my book “How to Know Higher Worlds”, in my “Occult Science”, in other of my writings, then one really learns to recognize, by having an inner soul life that is able to see through such things, how emotional life can be separated from intellectual life. Otherwise they mix. And the person with ordinary knowledge does not learn to recognize that the brain, that the nerve-sense apparatus, is only the carrier of the intellectual, while the rhythmic in the human being is the carrier of the life of feeling.

And in the same way, the metabolism is the carrier of the will, wherever it occurs; the metabolism in the brain is also the carrier of the will. But with the nervous-sensory activity, with the rhythmic activity, with the metabolic activity, the essence of the human being in relation to his functions is exhausted. That is the whole human being. Anthroposophically oriented spiritual science seeks to grasp this whole human being through the powers of knowledge, again from the whole human being. Because it draws on everything that comes not only from the intellect, but also from the life of feeling and its carrier, the rhythmic activity of the human being, and because it also draws its insights from what lives and weaves spiritually in the human being's metabolism, it can grasp the whole human being. Only in this way does it actually learn to recognize what the lungs, liver, spleen and other organs mean in the human being; for this can only be recognized by taking the spiritual impregnation of things as a guide.

In this way, one acquires an intuitive knowledge of the human being, and one paves the way for an intuitive medicine. By looking at the human being as a mechanism, one does not learn to recognize him. You only learn to recognize the mechanical aspects of the human body. By taking hold of the human being in this way, by further expanding the Goethean approach, which is intuitive, and by further spiritualizing it, the individual organs of the human being in their metamorphoses become transparent. But then, when one has come to know what these individual metamorphoses of the human organism mean, one can place the human being, who one has now grasped, back into nature. If we first recognize nature in such a way that we exclude the human being, then we cannot place the human being back into nature. If we really get to know the human being as I have described him, we can also place him back into nature. We study his organology and we learn to recognize the deep relationship that exists between the human being and the cosmos. Then the connection between the food taken from the outer nature and the human organization becomes clear. But then the connection between the remedy taken from the outer nature or from the soul in the case of spiritual healing and the whole human nature also becomes clear.

I could only sketch out this view of the human being. But what I have sketched out is the way out of anthroposophically oriented spiritual science into an intuitive medicine, into the kind of medicine that, I would like to say, so many long for today, who have gone through the course of medical studies without prejudice and then feel released upon suffering humanity. They miss the intuitive, spiritual element in what has impressed them in human knowledge and the art of healing. It is precisely in medicine that it is most intensely apparent what a science can achieve when it excludes the human being from its methods.

Oh, I know that what I am saying is still facing a wall of prejudice in the present. But this wall of prejudice must be addressed again and again. It will take a long time before a larger number of people will attempt the path outlined here, because it is less convenient than the path taken today. Just as the whole plant is, in the Goethean sense, a complex leaf, so the whole human being is, in a sense, composed of three people: the thinking person, who perceives through the senses; the rhythmic person; and the metabolic person. Each represents a person in a certain way, and the three people must be built up to form the whole nature of the human being. And each link in the human being relates to external nature in a different way. But what that mysterious connection is between remedy and disease can only be grasped by the intuitive medicine characterized here.

I also know that many people today still feel that it is presumptuous of the spiritual science meant here to think, among many other things, of reforming medicine. It must think of it out of a sacred obligation to the progress of humanity. For he must realize that the path trodden by natural science in the last three or four centuries, which has been a blessing in so many fields, can never become a healing one for the treatment of the sick person. Just as the artist cannot be a true artist if he only knows the aesthetic laws intellectually, so the physician cannot be a healer if he only knows what are today called natural laws. He must be able to live with his whole being in the weaving and being of nature itself. He must be able to immerse himself in the creative and weaving nature. Then he will be able to follow with heartfelt interest the paths that nature takes when it is ill. Then, from the observation of the healthy person, the observation of the sick person will become clear to him.

Not only does spiritual science have something to contribute to hygiene, which it gains from spiritual forces, but spiritual science must also open up the prospect of an intuitive medicine. Anyone who engages with this spiritual science will hear how I have today only characterized in broad strokes and in general, in the abstract, a path to an intuitive medicine, but how much of what I have outlined here is already developed, how much is just waiting for the moment when the official representatives of medical knowledge come and acquire the insight that it must be taken up. This applies to physical illnesses of the body as well as to illnesses of the soul itself. Today, one must already appear immodest if one wants to point out what spiritual science believes it can contribute to the healing and nature of the human being on the basis of sound knowledge.

I would like to make the transition to what I will deal with tomorrow about the moral, religious and social nature of man by pointing out, in conclusion, how, precisely in such a field as that of a truly intuitive medicine, it would be the ideal of the spiritual scientist to be able to express himself before those who are truly experts. If they would come and allow their expertise to be spoken without prejudice, then they would see how this expertise could be enriched by spiritual science. Spiritual science does not fear the criticism of experts. Spiritual science is not amateurish dilettantism. Spiritual science attempts to create from deeper scientific foundations than those of ordinary outer science today. Spiritual science knows that lay opinion, not expertise, is what it might fear if it had not long since unlearned fear for easily understandable reasons. Spiritual science has no need to fear or be afraid of expertise or impartiality. It knows that the more expertly its results are considered, the more they will be taken up in a positive sense. Particularly with regard to the perspective of an intuitive medicine, one would like to recall an old saying, the universal value of which I do not wish to examine today, but which in a certain limited sense must certainly apply to the approach that willingly shows itself to be applied in the art of treating the sick person. The ancients said: Only the same can recognize the same. In order to heal the person, one must first recognize him. What science does today in the human being is not the whole human being, therefore not the human being, therefore not the human being. When the whole human being is called upon to recognize the human being, then the same - the human being - will be recognized by the same - the human being. And then an art of human knowledge and human treatment will arise that, on the one hand, will maintain human health in social coexistence as much as it can be maintained, and which, on the other hand, will treat illness as it can only be treated from the combination of all the real healing factors.

A view of the world, as it is intended to be in spiritual science, must prove itself by giving people support for what they need in life. The support for life must be what we can call moral strength. But the support for life must also include, among other things, what we can call the inner soul-condition that can arise in a person from feeling that he is a member of the great cosmic whole, from feeling so incorporated into the cosmic whole that it corresponds to what one can call one's religious need. As for man's inner moral strength, Schopenhauer spoke an excellent word, even if the further remarks he made on these words in his own way seem quite disputable. He said: It is easy to preach morals, but to found morals is difficult. This is indeed a true saying of life. For in general, to recognize what is good, what the moral life demands of us, is relatively easy as a matter of intellect. But to draw from the primal forces of the soul those impulses that are necessary in man to place himself in the fabric of life as a morally powerful being, that is difficult. But that is what it means to found morality. To found morality is not merely to say what is good, what is moral. To found morality is to bring to man such impulses, which, by absorbing them into his soul life, become a real strength, a real efficiency in him.

Now, at the present stage of civilization, man's moral consciousness is embedded in the world in a very unique way, in a way that is not always fully consciously observed, but which is the reason for many uncertainties and insecurities that prevail in people's lives. On the one hand, we have our intellectually oriented knowledge, our insight, which makes it possible for us to penetrate into natural phenomena, which makes it possible for us to absorb the whole world into our imagination to a certain extent, which makes it possible for us, in an admittedly very limited way, as we have seen in the last two reflections here, to also make ideas about the nature of man.

Alongside what flashes up in us as our cognitive faculty, as everything that is, I would say, directed by our human logic, alongside all this, another element of our being asserts itself, the one from which our moral duty, our moral love, in short, the impulses for moral action, arise. And it must be said that modern man lives, on the one hand, in his cognitive abilities and their results, and on the other hand, in his moral impulses. Both are soul contents. But for this modern man, there is basically little mediation between the two, so little mediation that, for example, Kant could say: There are two things that are most precious to him in the world: the starry heavens above him, the moral law within him. But precisely this Kantian way of thinking, which lies dormant in the modern human being, knows of no bridge between what leads to knowledge of the world on the one hand and what moral impulses are on the other. Kant regards the life of knowledge in his Critique of Pure Reason and the moral life in his Critique of Practical Reason as if by chance.

And if we are completely honest with our sense of the times, we must actually say that there is an abyss here between two ways of experiencing human nature. Today's science, in forming ideas about the course of world evolution in the most diverse fields of knowledge, regards the workings of nature from the simplest living creatures, indeed from inorganic nature, right up to the human being. It forms ideas about how this world, which is directly before us, came into being. It also forms ideas about the processes by which the former end of this world, which is immediately before us, could take place. But now, from within man, who is nevertheless interwoven with this natural order, there wells up what he calls his moral ideals. And man perceives these moral ideals in such a way that he can only feel himself valuable if he follows these ideals, if there is agreement between him and these ideals. Man makes his value dependent on these moral ideals. But if we imagine that the forces of nature, which become accessible to man through his knowledge, are once upon a time approaching their end, where does today's sense of time leave what man creates out of his moral ideals, out of his moral impulses? Anyone who is honest, who does not shroud today's consciousness in nebulousness, must admit that, in the face of present-day scientific knowledge, these moral ideals are something by which man must guide himself in life, but by which nothing is created that could once triumph when the earth, together with man, comes to an end.

It is, for today's consciousness, one must only admit it, no bridge between the cognitive abilities that lead to natural knowledge and the abilities that govern us by being moral beings. Man is not aware of everything that goes on in the depths of his soul. Much remains unconscious. But what rumbles unconsciously down there asserts itself in life through disharmony, through mental or even physical illness. And anyone who just wants to see what is going on today without prejudice will have to say: our life is surging, and there are people in this life with all kinds of mental and physical contradictions. And that which surges up wells up from a depth in which something is indeed active that is like those weak human powers that cannot build a bridge between the moral life and the knowledge of nature. Anthroposophically oriented spiritual science addresses these questions in the following way. It must abandon everything that is, on the one hand, only a theoretical view of external reality. It must therefore recognize everything that, as I explained in the last two lectures here, would like to exclude the human being from this view of nature, so that a true objectivity can arise.

What I characterized as the path to the spiritual world is presented, to summarize what I said earlier, in the following way: First of all, anyone who wants to enter the spiritual world must devote themselves to a certain inner soul-spiritual work. In my books, I have summarized this inner practice, this inner spiritual-soul work, as meditation and concentration work. This work enables people to relate to their imaginative life differently than they do in ordinary life when we observe natural phenomena or even social life. It is a complete being-with-the-ideas, which otherwise only accompany our outer impressions like shadows. Just as I said, we usually face people or nature or anything else in physical life with our feelings, with our sympathies and antipathies, and we face facts with our will emotions. How these ideas arise, that disturbs us, that challenges our sympathy and antipathy, that stimulates our entire life force. This becomes our destiny. While we are outwardly quite calm, inwardly we are going through something that is by no means weaker than what we otherwise go through as life's destiny in the outer world. We are, so to speak, doubling our lives. While we usually get excited, develop sympathy and antipathy, and assert volitional impulses only in the outer life, in relation to outer events, we carry what otherwise only occupies us in this outer material world into our inner life of thought. If we can do this — and everyone can do it if they practise as I have described in my book 'How to Know Higher Worlds' or in my 'Occult Science' —, if we can really carry this out, then there comes a moment for us when in which he not only has images of the world when he opens his senses, when he hears or sees, but where he has images purely from the life of imagination, so full of content images, if I may use the expression, so full of sap, as they otherwise only come to us through sensory perception. They come through this thus intensified and sharpened life of imagination. Without sensory perception, we live in a world of images, as they otherwise only come to us through sensory perception.

But another significant experience is linked to this – these things can only be understood as experiences; abstract logic, so-called reasoning does not lead to them. Another experience is connected to this: We learn through such practice what it means to develop a spiritual-soul activity independently of the physical activity. The moment comes for the human being when he can rightly admit to himself, if I may put it this way, that he is a materialist, however strange and paradoxical that may sound. At this moment he can say: yes, in ordinary life we are completely dependent on the tools of our body. We think through the instrument of our nervous system. But that is precisely what characterizes this outer life, that we traverse it only by developing the soul and spiritual when it avails itself of the bodily instruments. But the soul and spiritual is not dependent on merely availing itself of the bodily instruments. Through the efforts described, it can free itself from the physical tool, can become free of the body. No matter how much speculation and philosophizing one does with materialism, if one only brings against it what can be known from ordinary life, one will never refute it, because for ordinary life, materialism is right. Materialism can only be refuted through spiritual practice, by detaching the soul-spiritual from the bodily in direct experience. One visualizes – I called it imaginative visualization in the books mentioned – one visualizes, but outside of the body, whereby the “outside” is of course not to be imagined spatially, but independently of the body. This is one side of what one must get to know within anthroposophically oriented spiritual science in order to really build the bridge that cannot be built in the way we have described. What one attains in this way as the content of imaginative knowledge is not in the human body, but outside of it. This provides the practical explanation that our innermost being was in the spiritual-soul world before it clothed itself with this body. For one is not only outside of the body, one is outside of time, in which one lives with the body. In this way, one really experiences the prenatal, or let us say, the pre-physical conception in man. Just as a light from outside shines into the room, so our prenatal life shines into our present life in this imagination.

What shines in is not just thoughts, it has a living content. This living content reveals itself as something very special. It reveals itself as a certain, I might say, intellectual content. So, as we cultivate, sharpen and strengthen our imaginative life in the way I have described, we come out of ourselves into a will content that has something living about it at the same time. It is the will content that creates in us what clothes itself in the physical body, what we do not have through heredity, what we do not have at all from the physical world.

Anthroposophically oriented spiritual science does not arrive at the realization of immortality through speculative processing of ordinary life, but rather through the cultivation of a cognitive faculty that is initially not present in ordinary life. What is particularly important for us today, however, is that in this way we reach beyond our physical body, even beyond the time in which our physical body lives. There one arrives at ideas that are still difficult for most people today to imagine, but which must become an important link in the evolution of humanity towards the future.

And now something very strange comes to light when one not only exercises on one side, that of the life of imagination, but also when one exercises on the side of the life of will. We human beings live, I would say, as Faust goes through life, saying, “I have only run through the world.” We run through the world. Of course, we undergo a development between birth and death, from month to month, from year to year, from decade to decade; but we undergo this development by, as it were, abandoning ourselves to external objectivity. Hand on heart, how many people do it differently than letting themselves be carried by life, be it by childhood, where adults educate them, or by later life and its fate? They become more perfect because the world makes them more perfect. But what do most people do differently, other than just abandon themselves to the stream of life? However, by abandoning oneself to the stream of life, one does not come to the spiritual path meant here. It is necessary that one takes self-discipline into one's own hands, that one actually works on oneself in such a way that one not only develops through the life that fate brings one, but that one develops further by making up one's mind: you want to implant this or that attitude. Now one works on implanting this attitude. One can undertake something on a small scale, one can do something on a large scale. But there is a big difference between just carrying out something in yourself, in the training of your own nature, by abandoning yourself to life, or taking this training of your own self into your own hands. By taking it into your own hands, you get to know the will in its effectiveness; because you learn to recognize what kind of resistance stands in the way of this will when you want to cultivate it in self-discipline. Oh, one gets to know all kinds of things in this way, one strengthens above all one's own powers of the spiritual-soul, and one will very soon notice when one exercises such exercises in self-discipline – but one must practice them for years – that one then acquires inner powers. These inner powers are of such a nature that we do not find them in outer nature. They are of such a nature that we do not find them in the ordinary life of the soul that we have carried within us before our exercises. We discover these forces only when we engage in such an inner exercise with ourselves. These forces are capable of something very definite: they are capable of absorbing into our own self, in a much more conscious way, the moral impulses that otherwise arise in the soul as if they were instinctive, as if they were indefinite and separate from the cognitive faculties. But understand me correctly, not into the self that we develop in our body, but into the self that we develop when we step out of our body with our imagination in the way described earlier. We cannot get the true form of the moral impulses into our sensual body, into our sensual perception; but we get what stands there so isolated that Kant presented it quite isolated as the categorical imperative, we get that into our self that has separated from the body.

And then what I have described earlier as imagination, as pictorial representations, becomes imbued with what one can call the objective power of moral impulses; it becomes imbued with moral inspiration. We now recognize that what wells up in us as moral imperatives, as moral ideals, is not rooted only in us, but in the whole of the world. We learn, by being outside of our physical being, to recognize that which does not appear in its true form within the physical organization, but in this true form, we recognize it through imaginative beholding, as objective forces of the world.

Such a vision can open up to a person who, with his or her healthy common sense, properly takes in what the spiritual researcher is able to say from his vision of the spiritual world. Anyone who imbues themselves with such a vision feels something very special about what today's popular public lectures are. It may sound strange when I say it, but I would like to say: anyone who unreservedly absorbs this inspiration in their imagination, which coincides with the moral forces that are present in human life, and imagines how can see through something like this in the present through spiritual knowledge, would like to think: if only such knowledge could take hold of people, at least as strongly as they are seized when they hear that X-rays or wireless telegraphy have been found! In view of what is taking place in the soul of a spiritual scientist, one would like to say: it is very necessary for present-day civilization that people should come to appreciate the spiritual forces for human strengthening that can be found in this way, just as much as what can be useful and beneficial in the outer life.

I believe that we have touched on an important challenge of civilization in the present day. The spiritual-scientific insights are, I repeat, not speculation, they are experiences. And the fact that so few people today accept them is because most people allow themselves to be blinded by materialistic scientific views, let their own prejudices stand in their way, do not apply their common sense, and therefore cannot properly

examine what the spiritual scientist says. They always say: we cannot see for ourselves what the spiritual researcher says. I would like to know how many people who believe in the Venus transits have ever seen a Venus transit! I would like to know how many people who say that water consists of hydrogen and oxygen have ever observed in a laboratory how to determine that water consists of hydrogen and oxygen and so on. There is a logic of common sense. Through it one can check what the spiritual researcher says. I certainly cannot paint illusions before those who use their common sense, nor can I talk fantasies to them, because they can use their common sense to see whether I speak like a dreamer or whether I speak in logical contexts, whether I speak like someone who puts forward one idea after another, as one does even in the most exact science. Anyone who acquires such a healthy knowledge and understanding of human nature will be able to distinguish whether he has a fantasist in front of him or a person who, by knowing how to clothe his view in healthy logical forms and not giving the impression of a dreamer in other ways, is to be taken seriously. We have to decide many things in life in this way; why should we not decide in this way the most important thing: insight into the order of the world? There is no other way for someone who cannot become a spiritual researcher themselves – but everyone can become a spiritual researcher to a certain extent, as I have explained in the books mentioned – to determine this; because spiritual science is something that is experienced, something that must be experienced, not something that is only achieved through logical conclusions.

So if you study worldviews, I would say the combination of imagination and inspired morality, you get to know something else, you learn to recognize what the contradiction is between so-called natural causality, natural necessity, and the element in which man lives as in his freedom. For it is only in the element of freedom that we can live with our moral impulses. We look out into the outer nature. Overwhelming for the view of nature that has developed over the last three to four centuries is what is called the necessary connection of the following with the preceding, what is called general causality. Thus, nature, including the human condition, presents itself as if everything were seized by a natural necessity. But then our freedom would be in a sorry state; then we could not act differently than the natural necessity in us compels us to act. Freedom would be an impossibility if the world were as the scientific view that has become popular in the last three to four centuries wants it to be.

But once we have gained the point of view that I have just described, the point of view of observation outside the human body, then everything that is permeated by necessity is, so to speak, presented as a kind of natural body. And this natural body produces a natural soul and a natural spirit in all possible places. The natural body is, as it were, that which has cast and thrown off the nascent world; the natural spirit, the natural soul, is that which grows into the future.

Just as, when I see a corpse before me, this corpse no longer has the possibility of following anything other than the necessities that have been determined by the soul and spirit that dwelled in it, so too that which is corpse-like in external nature has nothing in it of impulses as necessities. But in every place, what grows into the future springs forth. Our natural science has only been accustomed to observing the natural corpse, and therefore sees only necessity everywhere. Spiritual science must be added to this. It will see the life that is sprouting and has sprouted everywhere.

Thus man is placed, on the one hand, in the realm of natural causality and, on the other, in that which is also there but contains no causality. This contains something that is the same as the element of freedom we experience inwardly. We experience this element of freedom as I have described it in my Philosophy of Freedom when we rise to inwardly transparent, pure thinking, which is actually an outflow of our will activity. You can find more details in my Philosophy of Freedom.

Thus, what we gain by creating a possibility of knowledge for ourselves outside the human body carries us into a world where the contrast between natural necessity and freedom becomes explicable. We get to know freedom itself in the world. We learn to feel ourselves in a world in which freedom resides.

When I describe something like this to you, I do not do it just to show you the content of what I am describing, but I want to present it to you show you how man can enter into a certain frame of mind by absorbing knowledge drawn from such regions, by invigorating himself with such knowledge.

Just as we are imbued with joy when we experience an extraordinarily joyful event, as some people, when they have drunk so and so much Moselle wine, are completely imbued with the mood that comes from the Moselle wine, so too can a person's entire state of mind be seized by something so truly spiritual that it permeates the person. When has a person's state of mind been gripped by something, at first only in the outer life, but then in a shadowy way? When the categorical imperative or conscience moves in the face of moral obligations. But the content of this conscience now becomes clear and it will also take on a different emotional nuance. For what has actually happened – whether a person is a spiritual researcher himself, or whether he absorbs what the spiritual researcher brings through his common sense and incorporates it into his soul as insights – what has happened to the person? He has merged with something, has united with something, with which one only comes together when one goes out of oneself, when one alienates oneself from oneself. You will find no better, more realistic definition of love and the feeling of love than that which can be described as the state of mind that overcomes one when one penetrates, free of the body, into the entity of the outer world. If moral imperatives otherwise appear as a constraint, they can be cast in such a form that they appear imbued with the same mood that must permeate spiritual scientific knowledge. These moral impulses, these moral imperatives, can learn from the soul-attitude that comes to us through the assimilation of spiritual science; they can be warmed through by what must live in spiritual science in the highest sense: by love.

I tried to show this again in my Philosophy of Freedom, that love is the most dignified impulse for moral action in man. Within the modern development of the spirit, these things have already been spoken of more instinctively than can be the case today, when we can, if we want, have progressed in spiritual science. Kant once spoke of the compelling duty, of the, I would say, humanly restraining categorical imperative, which allows no interference of any sympathy. What one does out of moral duty, one does because one must. Kant therefore says: Duty, you exalted, great name, you carry nothing with you that means ingratiation or the like, but only the strictest submission. Schiller did not consider this slavish submission to duty to be humane. And he countered this Kantian argument with what he expressed so beautifully and so magnificently in his “Letters on the Aesthetic Education of Man”.

But we need only take a small epigram that Schiller coined in opposition to this rigorist, rigid concept of duty as propounded by Kant, and we have an important humanistic contrast with regard to the moral life: “I gladly serve my friends,” says Schiller, “but unfortunately I do it reluctantly. And so it often rankles me that I am not virtuous.” He believes that in the Kantian sense, one should not gladly serve one's friends, but rather submit to one's duty in obedience. But that which can make human life truly human is when we fulfill what Goethe says in a few monumental words: Duty, where we love what we command ourselves. But the mood to love what one commands oneself can only be kindled from that state of the human soul that comes about in the acquisition of spiritual science.

So when one delves into spiritual science, it is not something that runs alongside life, like preaching morals, but there is a development of strength within it that directly takes hold of the moral will. It is a grounding of morality. It is there that which pours into the human being the moral love. Spiritual science does not merely preach morals; spiritual science, when taken in its full seriousness, in its full power, grounds morality, but by not giving words of morality, but giving strength for virtuous love, for loving virtue.

Spiritual science is not just theory, it is life. And when one acquires spiritual science, it is not just a matter of reflection, it is something like absorbing life, like breathing. This is what spiritual science can offer modern civilization in the moral sphere, what it must offer. For in ancient times, as I indicated the day before yesterday, people also had a spiritual science, but it was instinctive. Where did the spiritual science of the ancient, millennia-old developing Oriental wisdom come from? It was a dull, dream-like visualization of the world. It came from human instincts, from human drives. This spiritual science was instinctive. People saw into nature through a kind of clairvoyance. And this clairvoyance was connected with their blood, was connected with their outer physicality. But the moral impulses of that time were also connected with this blood, with this outer physicality. Both came from one source. Humanity is undergoing a development and believes that we can be like people thousands of years ago; this is the same as believing that an adult man can be like a child. We can no longer stand on the standpoint of the primitive clairvoyant arts of the ancient Orient or ancient Egypt. We have advanced to Galileism, to Copernicanism. We have advanced to the point of observation that arises in the intellect. In those ancient oriental ways of looking at things, the intellect had not yet developed. But for that, we must also get the impulses for our moral action from the spirit, not from instinct. That is the worst thing today, that people, when they talk about ideals or impulses for life, always make everything absolute. When some party member or enthusiastic theorist appears on the scene today, dreaming of a thousand-year Reich, they say: I want this or that for humanity and they think to themselves that what they are saying is good for humanity in all times to come and for the whole earth. That it is good in the most absolute sense. Anyone who really looks into the life of developing humanity knows that what is good, what is valid for the world view, is always only appropriate for a certain age, that one must know the nature of this age. I have often said in earlier lectures here: spiritual science, anthroposophically oriented, as I express it here, does not imagine that it is something absolute. But it does believe that it speaks from the heart of the present and the near future, that it says for human souls what these human souls need in the present and in the near future. But she knows full well that this spiritual science: if in five hundred years someone will again speak of the great riddles of the world and of the affairs of humanity, he will speak in different tones, in a different way, because there is nothing absolute in this sense, nothing that lasts forever.

We are effective in life precisely because we are able to grasp it in its liveliness, in its metamorphosis, even where we stand in it. It is easier to set up absolute ideals in abstractions than to first get to know one's age and then, from the essence of this age, to speak what is appropriate for it. Then, when, through the assimilation of spiritual-scientific impulses, man, as has been said, permeates himself with what comes to him from the spirit, then he will know that he is spirit as man, is soul, then he will know that he lives through the world as spirit and soul. And then he will address every other human being as spirit and soul. One would be inclined to say that something tremendous will come about when this becomes spiritual science in human life, when it becomes an attitude that permeates human life to such an extent that one consciously encounters another human being as a riddle to be solved, because with each person one looks into infinity, into spiritual depths and abysses.

What emerges from this real observation of our fellow human beings as spirit and soul will give rise to social and moral forces that must form the basis for a real treatment of the burning social question of our time. I cannot imagine that those who see through the whole essence of the social question and at the same time let today's human condition take effect on them do not suffer certain mental anguish. We live in a time when the social question needs to be resolved in a certain way. We also live in a time when the promoters of the social order are inspired by the most anti-social instincts, when the demand for social organization of life seems to be in opposition to what lives in human souls as anti-social instincts. No matter how beautiful the programs may be that are drawn up, no matter how beautiful the ideas that are entertained as to what should be done to solve the social problem, a way to solve it can only be found when the spirit is seen, felt and sensed among people, when people treat each other with respect, protection, honor and love, and not just the physical part of their fellow human beings.

That is why I have called in my book “The Essentials of the Social Question” for the separation of spiritual life from the rest of social life, so that this spiritual life can be placed only on its own foundations, independent of the state and independent of economic impulses, purely of human nature. Only such a free spiritual life will truly spread social instincts, social views and attitudes among people. Social morality also depends on people taking in their spiritual state what can become them in the pursuit of what can be said from the research of spiritual science.

And that in which man must rest as a whole, worthy and dignified, so that he does not feel as a mere lonely wanderer, but as a member of the world, the religious element, can, in the sense that modern man needs it, only be kindled and fanned by that which is attained as an inner mood in the pursuit of spiritual science.

The events of the world order or of human development that religious feelings point to stand there as fact. The Mystery of Golgotha, for example, stands there as fact. What took place in Palestine at the beginning of our era, when the Christ came into the flesh in Jesus, is a fact. One must distinguish this fact, this objective fact, from the way in which man approaches the understanding and contemplation of such a fact. In the times when Christianity first spread, it was able to flow within the human attitudes that still came from the ancient Orient. What happened in Palestine as the event of Golgotha was understood with the ideas that in a certain way came from ancient times, from primitive human attitudes. For centuries, those who were able to do so were honest and sincere in their understanding of the event of Golgotha through such ideas. But then came the time when Galilean science arose, when Giordano Bruno overcame space in such a remarkable way for the human conception by showing that what is up there the blue firmament is only that which lives in ourselves, the boundaries that we ourselves set, while in a far-flung sea of space the stars are in infinity. All that Copernicus brought, all that has been brought to the newer world-picture of externals by the spirits who have lived up to the present day, has come. In this time men have inwardly become accustomed to a different way of looking at the world than that through which Christianity was first comprehended. In this time a new relation must also be won to the religious foundations of the evolution of mankind. The point is not to shake the facts on which the religious development of humanity is based. But the point is to appeal to modern human conscience in such a way that the man of today, out of his state of soul, can understand the Christ event as he must.

Those who say that a new path must also be sought to the old facts on religious ground mean it most honestly and reverently with regard to religion. Spiritual science, oriented towards anthroposophy, will be the best preparation for understanding Christianity or other religious content in a modern way. Those who do not honestly mean it with religious life do not admit this, because they want to preserve ways to the foundations of religious life to which man today, when he otherwise pays homage to the views of his time, cannot pay homage.

We have come to materialism in modern times. Certainly, different types of people have become the instigators of materialism; but among these people there are also those who have retained certain old habits of life in the development of humanity, habits of life that have led to a monopoly being given to the denominations for everything that can be said about the spirit and soul. Because the confessions alone had the right to decide what should be believed about the spirit and soul, natural science was left without a spirit to guide its research. Today, natural science believes that it has taken on this form because it had to, when researching nature, one must exclude the spirit. Oh no, natural science has become so because in earlier times it was forbidden to research nature with spirit, because the church had to decide about spirit and soul. And today, people continue the habits and even trumpet them as unprejudiced scientific judgment.

One only has to look at such researchers, who in the sense of materialistic research must be highly praised, as for example at the Jesuit priest and ant researcher Wasmann, the excellent materialistic researcher in the field of natural science, a researcher who, however, does not allow a grain of spirit to flow into what dogma is. Spirit and soul must be excluded. Therefore: external science is materialistic. The founders of the religions of the book are not in the least the originators of modern materialism. However paradoxical it may sound today, it is true: because the church did not allow the spirit to be brought into the contemplation of nature, natural science has become spiritless. The others have only adopted this as a habit. Anthroposophically oriented spiritual science must bring the spirit back into the study of nature. Let me say once more: this spiritual science is not based on the idea that spirit only makes occasional or brief visits, as in materialism, so that man can convince himself that there is a spirit. No, this spiritual science wants to show that in the small and large, in all material things, there is always and everywhere spirit, that one can always and everywhere follow the spirit. But because spiritual science oriented to anthroposophy always and everywhere investigates spirit in the most material form, it shows that there is no such thing as a material substance that is independent of spirit, just as there is no ice that is independent of water. Ice is transformed water, water that has cooled down; matter is spirit that has solidified. One must only explain it in the right way in each individual case. By showing, as everywhere, where there is matter, where there is outer life, there is spirit, and by leading man to connect with the ruling spirit, anthroposophically oriented spiritual science also provides the impetus for a real religious deepening today.

But one experiences many things in this field. You see, an experience of a man who is even well-intentioned is the following. Someone says: I cannot examine spiritual science as Steiner presents it; it may contain truths, but it should be kept very far from all religious life, because religious life must represent a direct relationship, a direct unity of man with God, far from all knowledge. And now the person in question says, very strangely: in our time we have too much of religious interest, of religious experience; people just always want to experience something religious. They want to have religious interest. You don't need any of that in religion. In religion, you only need direct unity with God. Away, says the churchman in question, with all religious interest, with all religious experience.

Now, an unprejudiced person must say today that even if people still long for an unclear religious experience, even if they still awaken an unclear religious interest in themselves, that is precisely the beginning of the yearning to really find a way into the religious element, as I have described it to you now. Whoever is honest and sincere about religious life should take hold of that urge for religious interest and religious experience. Instead, the clergyman condemns religious experience and religious interest. The question today is whether real religious understanding is to be found in those who speak as they do or in those who try to speak as I have spoken to you today. However, you also have to recognize people by their fruits.

In a recent lecture, a man who is also a churchman, but also a university professor, tried to refute anthroposophically oriented spiritual science. Two young friends of mine were in this lecture, and they were able to speak afterwards in the discussion. Because of the context, these two young people, who had absorbed the impulses of spiritual science well, brought forward words from the Bible to prove how what is written in the Bible, if properly understood, agrees with what anthroposophically oriented spiritual science has to say in this area. And at one point the chairman, who was a real churchman, didn't know what else to do but say, “Here Christ errs!” It could be retorted, “So you believe in a God who errs!” A fine religious sentiment. It produces strange blossoms today. Religious sentiment is only genuine when it enters into real moral life. There one certainly has strange experiences. I now find it pretty much the most disgusting thing that can be said about what appears as a social consequence in this anthroposophically oriented spiritual science, from beginning to end, and that it has been lied about by a whole series of German newspapers. But people today find it compatible with morality to say that the following can happen as a moral consequence of religious practice. Recently, a canon, that is, a churchman of the Catholic kind, gave a lecture in a city about the spiritual science presented here, and at the end he said: find out from the opposing writings what kind of worldview the man represents, because you are not allowed to read his own writings and those of his followers. The Pope has forbidden Catholics to read them.

The recommendation to get to know something from the evil-intentioned, from the most malevolent opposing writings, is the moral consequence of some religious practices of the present day. No wonder that what we have experienced in the last five years has poured out over the world from such underground life. Or was it not a surfacing of lies and hatred of humanity and much more that was rooted and still is rooted in the depths of human souls? Should not the fact that one has experienced give cause to seriously consider whether a thorough re-education is not necessary? Has not something like world-historical immorality come to the surface of world history in the present? Or is it religious sentiment that has been acted out in the world in the last five years? Those attitudes that have not had centuries, but millennia, to work on improving humanity, are now seeing their fruits! Nineteenth-century theology no longer recognizes anything of the spirituality of the event of Golgotha. This spirituality, this divine Christ in the man Jesus, will be rediscovered through the path of anthroposophically oriented spiritual science. From there, he will again enter into human souls, to prompt them not merely to preach morality, but to establish within themselves the right instinctive motivation for moral action and work in the world. Is there not an obvious need for renewal and reconstruction? Does this necessity not emerge when one looks at the events of the last five to six years? Do we not see the fruits of that which has been living under the surface for centuries and has now come to the surface? Should this not be proof that thorough religious and moral work is necessary?

Anthroposophically oriented spiritual science would like to collaborate on this work, the necessity of which any unbiased person must admit today if they are not asleep in their soul within the great events of the time. And anyone who wants to criticize it, who wants to condemn it, should first raise the fundamental question: does it honestly want to collaborate on the real progress of humanity? And only when he has conscientiously informed himself about it so that he can form an opinion about it, will it become clear to what extent this anthroposophically oriented spiritual science has the right to participate. Because it wants to honestly and sincerely participate in the necessary progress, in the necessary rethinking and relearning of humanity.