The Rudolf Steiner Archive

Reflections such as those we are considering this evening are meant to be an interlude in the otherwise continuous presentation of the humanities. In particular, I would like to try this evening to develop some of the ideas I touched on in my lecture last December on the intellectual and cultural situation in Austria. In our time, in which the concept of Central Europe, and also of Central European intellectual life, must increasingly develop as a result of difficult events and experiences, it seems justified to take a look at the lesser-known circumstances of Austrian intellectual life.

Hermann Bahr, who is known in the broadest circles as a witty man, as a man who cultivates the most diverse areas of literature, comes, I would say, from a typically Austrian region: from Upper Austria, and visited France, Spain and Russia at a relatively young age, and I know that at the time he was of the opinion that he could faithfully represent the essence of French and even Spanish and Russian intellectual culture to a certain extent. He even immersed himself so completely in Spanish politics that, as he assured us at the time, he wrote a fiery article in Spain against the Sultan of Morocco when he returned. Well, for decades now, after his world travels, he has been staying in Austria, working as a playwright, as an editor, as a general observer of art, and also as a biographer, for example of the much-misunderstood Max Burckhardt, and so on. Until recently, I tried to keep track of what Hermann Bahr was writing. In recent times, and actually for quite a while, one finds in his work an endeavor, which he often expressed himself, that he is searching, to discover Austria. Now imagine, the man who thought he knew French, even Spanish character, who wrote a book about Russian character, then goes back to his homeland, is such a member of his homeland that he only needs to speak five words and you immediately recognize the Austrian; the man seeks Austria! This may seem strange. But it is not so at all. This search originates from the quite justified feeling that, after all, for the Austrian, Austria, Austrian nature – I would say – Austrian national substance is not easy to find. I would like to describe some of this Austrian national character in a few typical personalities, insofar as it is expressed in Austrian intellectual life.

When I was young, many people were of the opinion, the then justified opinion, that when considering art, artistry, literature, and intellectual development, one looked too much to the past. In particular, much blame was attached to the scientific history of art and literature, for which a personality is only considered if they lived not just decades but centuries ago. At that time, considerations could hardly rise to the immediate perception of the present. I believe that today one could feel something opposite: in the way that considerations about art and artists are so commonplace, we now often experience that everyone more or less starts with themselves or with their immediate contemporaries. I do not wish to consider the present situation of Austrian intellectual life here, but rather a period of time that is not so far in the past. I do not wish to proceed in a descriptive manner. With descriptions, one is always right and always wrong at the same time. One touches on one or the other shade of this or that fact or personality, and both the person who agrees and the person who refutes will undoubtedly be right in the case of a general characteristic, in the case of general descriptions. I should like to give a symptomatic description. I should like to pick out individual personalities and in these personalities to show some of the many things that are alive in the Austrian intellectual world. You will excuse me if I start with a personality who is close to me. I believe, however, that in this case being close to someone does not prevent me from making an objective assessment of the personality in question. But on the other hand, I believe that in this person I have encountered a personality in life that is extraordinarily characteristic of Austrian intellectual life.

When I came to the Vienna Technical University in 1879, the subject, which was of course taught there as a minor subject, was the history of German literature, Karl Julius Schröer. He is little known and much misunderstood by those who have met him. I now believe that he is one of those personalities who deserve to live on in the intellectual history of Austria. However, an important literary historian once made some strange comments about Karl Julius Schröer in the presence of a party at which I was sitting next to him. There was talk of a German princess, and the literary historian in question wanted to say that this German princess, however talented she might otherwise be, sometimes, as he put it, “could be very wrong” in her literary judgments; and as an example, he cited the fact that she considers Karl Julius Schröer to be an important man. Schröer took up a position as a teacher of German literary history at a Protestant lyceum in Pressburg around the middle of the last century, at a momentous point in Austrian intellectual life. He later taught the same subject at the University of Budapest. Karl Julius Schröer was the son of Tobias Gottfried Schröer, who was mentioned in my previous lecture on Austrian identity. Tobias Gottfried Schröer was also an extraordinarily important figure for Austria. He had founded the Pressburg Lyceum and wanted to make it a center for the cultivation of German intellectual life. His aim was to help those Germans in Austria who were surrounded by other nationalities to become fully aware of their identity as part of the German intellectual world.

Tobias Gottfried Schröer is a personality who, from a historical-spiritual point of view, comes across in such a way that one would like to feel a certain emotion, because one always has the feeling: how is it possible in the world that an important mind can remain completely unknown due to the unfavorable conditions of the time, completely unknown in the sense that one calls “being known” that one knows that this or that personality has existed and has achieved this or that. However, the achievements of Tobias Gottfried Schröer are by no means unknown or unappreciated. I just want to emphasize that as early as 1830 Tobias Gottfried Schröer wrote a very interesting drama, “The Bear”, which has at its center the personality of Tsar Ivan IV, and that Karl von Holtei said of this drama that if the characters depicted were Schröer's creations, then he had achieved something extraordinarily significant. And they were Schröer's inventions except for Ivan IV. However, the level-headed man, the not at all somehow radically minded Tobias Gottfried Schröer, had a flaw. In those days, people could not be allowed to read what he wrote, so to speak, that is, this view was held by the censors. And so it came about that he had to have all his works printed abroad and that one could not get to know him as the important dramatic poet that he was. He wrote a drama in 1839 called “The Life and Deeds of Emmerich Tököly and His Fellow Rebels”. In this work, one encounters in a large historical painting all the intellectual currents that existed in Hungary at that time. And in the character of Tököly himself, one encounters what critics of the time rightly called a Hungarian Götz von Berlichingen, not so much because Tököly had to be called a Götz von Berlichingen, but because Schröer managed to depict Tököly in such a vivid way that the dramatic figure of Tököly could only be compared to Götz von Berlichingen. It was only by a strange mistake that Tobias Gottfried Schröer was sometimes recognized. For example, he wrote a paper “On Education and Teaching in Hungary”. This paper was regarded by many as something extraordinary. But it was also banned, and attention was drawn to the fact that this author - who was basically the calmest man in the world - was actually a dangerous person. But the Palatine of Hungary, Archduke Joseph, read this writing. Now the storm that had risen over this writing subsided. He inquired about the author. They did not know who he was. But they speculated that it was the rector of a Hungarian school. And Archduke Joseph, the Palatine of Hungary, immediately took the man - it was not the right one! - into the house to educate his son. What a tribute to a personality! Such things have happened many times, especially with regard to this personality. For this personality is the same one who, under the name Christian Oeser, has written all kinds of works that have been widely distributed: an “Aesthetics for virgins,” a “World history for girls' schools.” If you read this “World History for Girls' Schools” by a Protestant author, you will certainly find it quite remarkable, and yet it is true that it was once even introduced in a convent as the corresponding world history – truly, in a convent! The reason for this was that there is a picture of St. Elizabeth on the title page. I leave it to you to believe that the liberalness of the nuns might have contributed to the introduction of this “world history for girls' schools” in a convent.

After pronouncing such sentences, Karl Julius Schröer let his gaze wander over the times when the German essence was thoroughly misunderstood by other nations around it as a result of various events. He spoke about this as follows: “The German name was held in low esteem by the nations that owed it so much; at that time, the German was valued in France almost on a par with barbarians.” In 1846, he spoke to his audience at the German Lyceum in Pressburg! But in contrast to this, Karl Julius Schröer was full of enthusiasm for what one could say he saw as the German intellectual substance, not for what is merely called nationality in the ethnographic sense, but for the spiritual that permeates everything that holds the German essence together. I quote a few of Karl Julius Schröer's statements from this time, which now lies far behind us, for the reason of showing how peculiarly that which is called the confession of German nationality lives in the more outstanding minds. Basically, we have to keep in mind that the way the German stands by his nationality cannot be understood by the other nationalities of Europe, because it is fundamentally different from the way the other nationalities stand by what they call their nationality. If we look at the more outstanding and deeply feeling Germans, we find that they are German in the best sense of the word because they see Germanness in what is spiritually pulsating, but also as a force tinged with this spirituality, in what counts itself German; that Germanness is something like an ideal for them, something to which they look up, that they do not see merely as a national organism. And therein lie many of the difficulties why German character – even in our days, and especially in our days – is so misunderstood, so hated. Such Germans as Karl Julius Schröer want to achieve their Germanness through knowledge, by gaining insight into the possibilities of life and action that the living organism of a nation offers. And again and again Karl Julius Schröer's gaze wanders, not in arrogance, but in modesty, to the question: What world-historical mission in the development of the human race has that which, in this best sense of the word, can be called Germanness and German nature? And before world history it wants to be justified, what is built up in views on German nature. Much more could be said about the special position of such minds in relation to the German character. Thus Karl Julius Schröer, speaking from this attitude, says: “The world epoch that begins with Christianity is also called the Germanic world; for although the other nations also have a great share in history, almost all the states of Europe were founded by Germanic peoples... .” — this is a truth that, at least today, is not readily acknowledged outside of the German border posts. Of course, it is not heard, but it is not readily acknowledged. “... Spain, France, England, Germany, Austria, even Russia, Greece, Sweden and so on, were founded by Germans and imbued with the German spirit.”

And then Karl Julius Schröer cites for his listeners a saying of a German literary historian, Wackernagel: “Throughout Europe now flowed...” - namely after the migration of peoples - “A pure Germanic blood, or combining Roman-Celtic blood, now flowed a Germanic spirit of life, took the Christian faith... on its purer, stronger floods and carried it along.” There was no time in which the hatred of Europe would have prompted such views as today. They were views that arose in a thoroughly honest way from the contemplation of the German character by this mind. And so he expressed himself: “The civilized peoples of Europe are one great family, and it is a single great course of the nations of Europe that leads through all errors back to the source of truth and true art, on which all nations accompany the Germans, often overtaking them, but in the end one after the other falling behind them. The Romance peoples are usually the first in everything: the Italians, then the Spaniards, the French, then come the English and the Germans. One of these nations usually represents the culmination of a particular trend of the times. But lately, even the English have had their hour struck in art and science... “—said in 1846, though with reference to the development of intellectual life—”... and the time has come when German literature is visibly beginning to rule over Europe, as the Italian and French did before!"

Thus was the man rooted in his Austrian homeland. And since I later became very close to him, I know well that it meant nothing to him, absolutely nothing that could somehow be described in words: he would have wanted the domination of one nation over another—not even within Austria. If one wants to call an attitude like Karl Julius Schröer's national, then it is compatible with the acceptance of every nationality, insofar as this nationality wants to assert itself alongside others from the germ, from the source of its own being, and does not want to dominate these others. His concern was not to cultivate the supremacy of the German character over any other nationality or over any legitimate national aspiration, but to bring to full development within the German character what is inherent within that German character. And that is what is special about this man: that he felt himself intertwined with Austrian national character through his entire aesthetic sensibility, through his entire feeling, artistic feeling, popular feeling, but also through his scientific endeavors. He became, so to speak, an observer of this Austrian national character.

And so we see that as early as the 1950s, out of his deep love for the people, he collected those wonderful German Christmas plays that have been preserved among the German population of Hungary, and published “German Christmas Plays from Hungary”, those Christmas plays that are performed in the villages at Christmas time, at the time of the Epiphany. They are strange games! They were actually only printed for the first time in the mid-nineteenth century – and Schröer was one of the first to have such things printed. They have been preserved from generation to generation in the rural population. Since then, many such Christmas games have been collected in the most diverse areas, and much has been written about them. With such heartfelt love, with such intimate connection to folklore, as Kar! Julius Schröer wrote his introduction to the “German Christmas Plays from Hungary” at the time, hardly anything has been written in this field since. He shows us that manuscripts of the plays were always preserved from generation to generation, as they were a sacred ritual that people prepared for in the individual villages when Christmas season approached; and that those who were chosen to play, that is, to go around the village and the most diverse locales to play these games for the people, in which the creation of the world, the biblical history of the New Testament, the appearance of the three kings, and the like were depicted. Schröer describes how those who prepared for such plays not only prepared themselves for weeks by learning things by heart, by being drilled by some kind of director, but how they prepared themselves by following certain rules; how they did not drink wine for weeks, how they avoided other pleasures of life for weeks in order to have the right feelings, so to speak, to be allowed to perform in such plays. How Germanic character has absorbed Christianity can be seen, how this Christianity has flowed into these strange plays, which are sometimes crude, but always deeply moving and extraordinarily vivid. Later, as I said, others also collected these things; but none approached it with such devotion of his personality, with such a connection to what was being lived out, as Karl Julius Schröer, even if his representations, scientifically speaking, are long outdated.

Then he turned to the study of German folklore as it is spread throughout the vast territory of Austria-Hungary, of German folklore as it lives in the people. And there are numerous treatises by Karl Julius Schröer in which he presents this folklore in terms of its language and the intellectual life expressed through it. We have a dictionary, a description of the dialects of the Hungarian highlands, the area that was settled by German settlers on the southern slopes of the Carpathians, and still is today, although most of the area is Magyar. With tremendous love, through Karl Julius Schröer, I would say, every word was recorded that resonates with the dialect of this area; but we have always recorded it in such a way that one can see from his descriptions how his interest was directed towards seeking out what the cultural task was, what the particular way of life of the people who, coming from afar, had to push their way into the east at a certain time in order to temporarily cultivate their own culture in the midst of other peoples, later to remember it and then gradually to be absorbed into other cultures. What Schröer has achieved in this field will in many ways represent something for the future, like wonderful memories of the ferment that shaped German identity in the wide expanse of Austria.

Karl Julius Schröer later came to Vienna. He became director of the Protestant schools and later professor of German literary history at the Vienna Technical University. And I myself experienced how he knew how to influence those who were receptive to the presentation of directly felt intellectual life. Then he turned more and more to Goethe, delivered his “Faust” commentary, which appeared in several editions, and in 1875 wrote a history of German poetry that was met with much hostility. It became an example at the time after it was published, a “literary history from the wrist” called. However, Schröer's literary history is not a literary history written according to the methods that later became common in the Scherer school. But it is a literary history in which there is nothing but what the author experienced, experienced in the poetic works, in art, in the development of German intellectual life in the nineteenth century up to his time; because that is what he wanted to present at the time. Karl Julius Schröer's entire life and intellectual development can only be understood by considering the Austrian character of Schröer's entire personality, which brought the scientific and artistic into direct connection , and to experience it in direct connection with folklore, that folklore which, particularly in Austria, I would say, presents a problem at every point of its development, if one only knows how to experience and observe it. And one must often think, perhaps also abroad: Is this Austria a necessity? How does this Austria actually fit into the overall development of European culture?

Well, if you look at Austria in this way, it appears to be a great diversity. Many, many nations and ethnic groups live side by side, pushed together, and the life of the individual is often complicated by these underlying factors, even as a soul life and as a whole personality life. The things that now play from one nation into another, what comes to light through this lack of understanding and the desire to understand and the difficulties of life, it comes to one's attention at every turn in Austria, combined with other historical conditions of Austrian life. There is a poet who, with great but, I would say, modest genius, understood how to depict something of this Austrian essence. At the end of the 1880s and in the 1890s, he could occasionally be seen performing in Vienna when one came to the famous Café Griensteidl in Vienna and also in certain other literary circles. Yes, this Café Griensteidl basically belongs to Austrian literature; so much so that a writer, Karl Kraus, wrote a series of articles entitled “Demolished Literature” when it was demolished. Today, one still reads about Café Griensteidl as if it were a beautiful memory. Please excuse me for including this, but it is too interesting, because at Café Griensteidl, if you went there at certain times of the day, you could really see a cross-section of Austrian literature. But today, when you read about these things, you often read about the times of the waiter Heinrich, who later became famous, the famous Heinrich of Griensteidl, who knew what newspapers each person needed to have when they came in the door. But that was no longer the real time, the time of the somewhat jovial Heinrich, but the real time was that of Franz vom Griensteidl, who had lived through the days when Lenau and Grillparzer and Anastasius Grün gathered at the Café Griensteidl every day or twice a week, and who, with his infinitely dignified manner, would occasionally tell a story in his own way about one of these literary greats when you happened to be waiting for a newspaper. As I said, Jakob Julius David also occasionally appeared in the circle of people there. Actually, David only emerged in Austrian intellectual life at the end of the 1880s and beginning of the 1890s. When you sat with him, he spoke little; he listened even less when people spoke to him because he was severely hard of hearing. He was very severely short-sighted and usually spoke from a compressed soul, from a soul that had experienced how often in life what we call fate weighs heavily on the soul. When I spoke to the half-blind and half-deaf man, I often thought how strongly Austrian identity was expressed in this personality, who had gone through a difficult youth, a youth full of privation and poverty in the valley of the Hanna, in the valley through which the March flows, where German, Hungarian and Slavic populations border on each other and are mixed everywhere. If you drive down from this valley to Vienna, you will pass poor huts everywhere; this was especially the case when David was young. But these humble huts often have people as inhabitants, each of whom harbors in his soul the Austrian problem, that which, in all its broad specificity, contains the Austrian problem, the whole diversity of life that challenges the soul. This diversity, which wants to be experienced, which cannot be dismissed with a few concepts, with a few ideas, lives in these strange, in a certain way closed natures. If I wanted to characterize what these natures are like, which David has described as being particularly prevalent in Austrian life, I would have to say: they are natures that feel deeply the suffering of life, but they also have something in them that is not so common in the world: the ability to endure suffering to a certain extent. It is even difficult to find words for what is made of the often arduous experience, especially in these Austrian regions. There is no sentimentality, but a strong ability to experience the diversity of life, which of course brings about clashes, even among the lowest peasant classes. But this does not turn into a weariness of life, into some kind of world-weary mood. It transforms itself into something that is not defiance and yet has the strength of defiance. It transforms itself, if I may say so, weakness into strength. And this strength is realized in the area in which it finds itself through the necessities of life. And weakness, which in a sense had been transformed into strength, showed itself in David. This man was half blind and half deaf. But he once said to me: “Yes, my eyes cannot see much in the distance, but all the more so when using a microscope, I see close up.” That is to say, up close he observed everything exactly through his eyes as if through a microscope; but he looked at it so closely that one must say: In what he saw with his eyes, there was something great that intervened, explaining and illuminating what was behind it. And as a substitute for the wide-ranging view, this man had a deep gaze in the small field of vision that he overlooked with his microscopic eyes, an obsession with getting behind the reasons for things. And that was transferred to his entire mental life. This allowed him to see the people he wanted to describe, deep, deep into their hearts. And as a result, he was able to depict many, many types of Austrian life in poetry, drama, novellas, and even lyric poetry. How this entire Austrian mood can form in the soul, not into sentimentality, but into a certain inner strength, which is not defiance, but contains the strength of defiance, is particularly evident where Jakob Julius David speaks for himself. There he says:

Almighty! Thou hast taken much from me,
Thou alone knowest what I have lost;
My eye sees the beautiful world blurred,
And only muffled, muffled and quiet
Life's sounds come to my ailing ear.
Once it hurt me – and for my own good,
I thank you today that I previously criticized you
You have spared me much sorrow, many horrors
Saved me from hearing and seeing...

Indeed, the man was such that he did not have to see and hear many things in order to bring out of the depths of his soul many things that he wanted to embody poetically. As I said, I would like to show what is expressed in such Austrian sounds in individual symptoms. And one must not introduce a touch of sentimentality when Jakob Julius David speaks of his fate in this way:

In the west you see gray in the valley
The heaviest clouds hang –
That reminds me of the days,
Which have passed for me...

In the east, asleep in the light of the storm, That is my today...

But this “today” he uses up, he exhausts it, and for him it became the possibility of describing Austrian folklore in such a way that everywhere, quite remarkably, one sees individual destinies in his work – many of his novellas have only a few characters. These individual destinies make one say: The way in which the characters collide with each other because they are placed next to each other in the world by kinship or otherwise is extremely moving and takes us deep into realities. But what Jakob Julius David captures so, I would say, microscopically and yet movingly and vividly, very rarely occurs in such a way that a large painting of world history is not somehow behind it, with the individual event taking place against its backdrop.

This contextual thinking of the small, which does not become shadowy and blurred because it appears on such a background, that this letting the small happen is colored by the greatness of world-historical becoming, that is what we find to be the most characteristic of a well-known Austrian poet, but one who unfortunately is not well enough known. We are talking about the greatest poet of Austria in the second half of the nineteenth century, the poet whose home we find if we go just a little way west from the home of Jakob Julius David: we are talking about Robert Hamerling.

It is remarkable how the traits exhibited by individual personalities within Austrian intellectual life seem to clash, but when viewed from a certain higher perspective, they present themselves as qualities alongside other qualities, flowing together into a great harmony. It is remarkable: Karl Julius Schröer did not want to accept Robert Hamerling at all. To him he was a poet of secondary importance, a poet who, above all, is said to have destroyed his poetic power through his erudition. On the other hand, in Robert Hamerling there is the same attitude, the same noblest grasp of the German essence that I tried to describe in such a characteristic personality as Karl Julius Schröer. But that too is typical of Hamerling, and what I am describing to you here as typical personalities can be found in many, many others in Austrian life. I am trying to pick out only the characteristic traits that can really be presented as individual traits, but in such a way that they can stand for the whole. What is peculiar about Robert Hamerling is that he grows out of the smallest things. He comes from the Waldviertel in Lower Austria, from that poor region that bears its fruit only with difficulty because the soil is rocky and covered with forest, a region that is cozy and charming, and can be particularly enchanting in its hilly nature. Out of this peculiar nature and out of the limitations of the human character, Robert Hamerling's great spirit emerged. And he grew into a similar understanding of the German character to that of Karl Julius Schröer's spirit. We see this in one of Robert Hamerling's best poems, 'Germanenzug', where the way in which the German spirit lived in Robert Hamerling, the Austrian poet, is particularly clearly expressed. The ancient Germans move from Asia and camp on the Caucasus. Wonderfully, I would say, with magical vividness, it is described how evening falls, how the sun goes down, twilight reigns, the moon appears, how the entire army of Teutons camps, sleep spreads and only the one blond-haired , the spirit of Asia appears to him, releasing his people to Europe, and how the spirit of Asia permeates Teut with that which is in store for the Teutons up to their development in Germanness through history. There the great becomes great, but there also, with noble criticism, what is to be blamed is already expressed. There many a trait that especially people like Robert Hamerling see in Germanness is expressed by the goddess Asia. There the future is spoken of:

But however proudly you aspire, highly soaring, always still a blaze
you will keep the ancient sacred fire.
The dream-filled
drunkenness of God will live on in you...
You only strive because you love: your boldest thought
will be devotion that wants to sink into God.

Thus spoke Asia to the blonde Teut, the leader of the Germanic peoples to Europe, speaking in advance of the genius of Germanness, and continuing:

Do you know the highest path for your struggle
When you grow strong in certain unity in the future?
Do you know the beacons in the sea of time
Which, beckoning afar with the flame of purity,
Bring you to the last, most beautiful goal?
High above, they shine with an eternal radiance
The sacred ideals
Of humanity: freedom, justice, and light and love!
These are the last fully glowing flames
of the original light - to stir them up all together
into one glow in the quarrelling hustle and bustle
of the life of nations: that is your mission...

And Robert Hamerling could not help but consider the details that he presents, for example, as an epic poet or as a playwright, in the context of the great spiritual development of humanity. I would say that all these observers over there in Austria have something in common with microscopic vision, which, however, wants to reach beneath the surface of things; and Robert Hamerling shows it most beautifully. And they have something in common with western Austria, of which one can say: it has a certain right to place the individual within the greater whole. Because the way the valleys stand between the mountains in some areas of western Austria is expressed in turn in what lives in a poet like Robert Hamerling. We can see that a great variety of things are expressed in this Austrian intellectual life, in all its sides, which may perhaps repel each other, but which nevertheless represent a diversity that is unity in the whole picture of culture that one can draw.

And in this diversity, the sounds that come from other nationalities combine not in disharmony, but in a certain sense in harmony. It is of course not possible to say anything specific about what sounds from other nationalities into Austrian intellectual life as a whole. Only a few symptoms will be characterized. For example, within Czech literature – with regard to these descriptions, I must of course be cautious, since I do not speak Czech – we have a newer poet, a recently deceased poet, who, as someone who wrote about him put it, has become for his people something similar to what was said about a great Czech musician: that he was there like a whale in a carp pond. That is how Jaroslav Vrchlický is placed in the spiritual life of his people. In his works, the whole of world history comes to life: the oldest human life of the distant past, Egyptian, European life of the Middle Ages and modern times, Jewish intellectual life, the whole of world history comes to life in his lyric poetry, comes to life in his dramas, in his stories, and is alive everywhere. This Jaroslav Vrchlicky – his real name is Emil Frida – has an incredible productivity. And when you consider that this man has translated a large, large area of the literature of other nations for his nation, in addition to his own extremely widespread production, then you can appreciate what such a mind means for his nation. I have to read to you, because otherwise I might forget to mention some of the poets of world literature that Vrchlicky has translated for Czech literature: Ariosto, Tasso, Dante, Petrarca, Leopardi, Calderon, Camöens, Moliere, Baudelaire, Rostand, Victor Hugo, Byron, Shelley, Gorki, Schiller, Hamerling, Mickiewicz, Balzac, Dumas and others. It has been calculated that Vrchlicky alone translated 65,000 verses by Tasso, Dante and Ariosto. And yet this man was, I would say, the very embodiment of his nationality. When he emerged on the scene in the stormy 1870s – he was born in 1853 – it was a difficult time for his nation, with all the contradictions that had arisen; in relation to the Germans, all sorts of opposing factions had emerged within his own nation. At first he was much contested. There were people who said he could not write Czech; there were people who made fun of what Vrchlicky wrote. But that stopped very soon. He forced recognition. And in 1873 he was, one might say, like an angel of peace among the terribly feuding parties. He was recognized by all, and in his popular poetic works he resurrected entire paintings of world developments from all of them; just not – and this is striking – anything from Russian folklore! A man who wrote a short biography about him – before the war – expressly warned in this biography: one should see from this man in particular how little foundation there is for the fairy tale that the Czechs, or the western Slavs in general, have something to expect from the great Russian empire when they look within, as is often said.

We see this expansion in a different way, this: to see the individual experience against the background of the great interrelationships of humanity and the world — we see it in a different way in a poet whom I already referred to in my last lecture on Austrianness, the Hungarian poet Emmerich Madách. Madách was born in 1823. Madách wrote, one must say, truly imbued with a full Magyar spirit, among other things that cannot be mentioned here, The Tragedy of Man. This The Tragedy of Man is again something that does not tie in with the great events of humanity, but directly represents these events of humanity themselves. And one would like to say how Madách, the Magyar, the native of eastern Austria, presents this “tragedy of man”, which differs, for example, from the figures that Hamerling, in his own way, created out of the great painting of world history in “Ahasver”, “King of Sion”, “Aspasia”. They differ as the mountains of western Austria differ from the wide plains of eastern Austria, or rather – and I would like to be more precise here – as the soul, when it rises in the often so beautiful – especially when they are bathed in sunlight – valleys of western Austria and lets its gaze wander over the mountains that border these valleys, — how the soul, in this absorption, differs from that mood of going out into the wide open, but indefinite, that overcomes it when the Hungarian puszta, with its wide plain character, affects that soul. You know from Lenau's poetry, what this Hungarian puszta can become for the human soul.

A remarkable poem, this “Tragedy of Man”. We are placed directly at the beginning of creation. God appears alongside Lucifer. Adam dreams the future world history under Lucifer's influence. This happens in nine significant cultural images. In the beginning, we are introduced to the Lord and Lucifer; Lucifer, who wants to assert himself in his entire being towards the creator of this existence, into which the being of man is intertwined. And Lucifer admonishes the creator of the world that he is also there and that he is of the same age as the creator of the world himself. In a sense, the Creator must accept Lucifer as his helper. We hear the significant words in the poem: “If the negation” - namely Lucifer - “has even the slightest hold, your world will soon unhinge it.” With this, Lucifer threatens the creative spirit. The Lord hands Lucifer two trees, the tree of knowledge and the tree of immortality. But with these, Lucifer tempts man. And he tempts Adam, thereby causing Adam to lose paradise. And outside of paradise, Lucifer introduces Adam to what in the visions of Madách is the knowledge of the forces of nature, of the whole fabric of forces that can be gained through knowledge of man through the natural phenomena unfolding before the senses. It is the invisible cobweb of natural laws that Lucifer teaches Adam outside of paradise. And then we are shown how Lucifer makes Adam dream of the more distant fate of the world. There we see how Adam is re-embodied as a Pharaoh in ancient Egypt, and Eve, in her re-embodiment, meets him as the wife of a slave who is mistreated. Adam is seized by a deep melancholy; that is, he sees it in his dream, in which his later life, all his later embodiments, appear before the soul's eye. He sees it in such a way that he is seized by deep bitterness about what is to become of the world. And further, we are shown how Adam is re-embodied in Athens as Miltiades, how he must experience the ingratitude of the people; further, we are shown how he has to observe the declining culture and the penetration of Christianity in ancient Rome, in the imperial period. Among crusaders later in Constantinople, Adam comes to us in a new life. He is embodied again as Kepler at the court of Emperor Rudolf; as Danton during the French Revolutionary period. Then he is embodied again in London. There he becomes acquainted with that through which, according to the view of Madách, Lucifer has a characteristic effect on the present. The words must already be spoken that are written in it: “Everything is a market where everyone trades, buys, cheats, business is cheating, cheating is business.” It was not written under the influence of the war, because the poem was written in the 1860s. Then, in a later life, Adam is led to the end of time on Earth, to a landscape of ice, and so on. It is undoubtedly interesting, but one would also like to say that, like the Hungarian steppes, which extend into infinity and leave much incomprehensible and unsatisfactory – that is how this poem is. And only sporadically do we realize that the poet actually means that the whole thing is a dream that Lucifer inspires in Adam. And what the poet really wants to say is that this is how the world would be if only Lucifer were at work. But man also has an effect. Man has to seek his strength and counteract Lucifer. But this is hardly hinted at, only, I would like to say, hinted at at the end, but in such a way that what appears as positive in the face of the negative, in the face of sadness, in the face of suffering, must also be summarized, like suffering that develops into defiant strength. “Fight and trust” is what Adam is taught. But what man can fight for is not shown at all. What the world would become if it were left to nature alone is depicted. And this poem has grown out of a deep inner life and a difficult life experience.

Madách is also one of those natures who, in a different way, can be characterized by saying: Oh, this diversity of life, which is linked to the historical conditions of Austria, passed through his soul; but at the same time also the strength to transform weakness into strength.

Madách comes from old Hungarian nobility. He grew up in the Neögrader district. He lost his father very early. His mother was a spiritually strong woman. Madách became a dreamy, contemplative person. In 1849, after the revolution, he took in a refugee who was already gone when the police came looking for him; but the police still came to the conclusion that Madách had taken in this refugee. Madách was put on trial and sentenced to four years in prison. It was not so much the prison, which he accepted as an historical necessity, that had a severely distressing effect on Madách, but the fact that he had to separate from his wife, from his family, who was like his other self, whom he loved most tenderly, and that he not see her, not share in this life for four years, was devastating to him, that was the real hard blow of fate that made him doubt humanity, if it had not been for the fact that every hour he spent in prison was followed by the hope: you will see her again then. And so he wrote his poems, in which he imagined going through the door. Even after he was actually released, he wrote the last of these poems on the way home, in which he wonderfully describes the heaven that would now receive him. And he really did come home. The woman he loved so tenderly had meanwhile become unfaithful to him, she had left with another. And through the gate through which he wanted to enter in the sense of the poem he had written, he had to enter his treacherously abandoned home. In visions, the traitor and his betrayal often stood before his eyes. It was from such sources that his historical and human feelings, his feelings about the world, were formed. This must certainly be borne in mind if one is to appreciate this poetry, to which one might possibly have many objections.

For that is the point – and it would be interesting to develop this in detail – that the diversity that is in Austrian life and that is brought about by such things as I have mentioned can, again and again, broaden one's view and present one with tasks, so that one must directly link one's own experiences to the great experiences of humanity, yes, to the tasks of humanity. And just as with Hamerling, although he spent half his life on his sickbed, every poetic note he uttered was connected with the most direct experience, so too with Emmerich Madách on the other hand.

You see, this diversity – one can ask: did it have to be forged in the course of human development in Central Europe? Is there any necessity in this? If you look at the matter more closely, you do indeed get an insight into such a necessity, to find the most diverse human minds in a single area of space also united in shared destinies. And I would like to say that it always seemed to me like a symbol of what is present in the national community, in the diversity of the people, that nature, and strangely enough especially around Vienna, has already created something of a great diversity in the earth. Geologically, the so-called Vienna Basin is one of the most interesting areas on earth. As if in an earthly microcosm, as in a small Earth, everything that interacts with each other is brought together, but it also symbolizes what can explain to you that which is otherwise spread over the Earth's surface. And for those who have an interest in and an understanding of scientific observations, the contemplation of this Vienna Basin, with the numerous secrets of the Earth's formation that can be studied there, is deeply inspiring. One is tempted to say that the Earth itself develops a diversity that is bound into a unity in the center of Europe. And what is geologically present in the Earth is basically only reflected in what takes place above this Earth's surface in the minds of human beings.

I say all this not to make propaganda for Austria, but only to describe a characteristic feature. But this characteristic feature comes to the fore when one wants to describe Austria. And, I would like to say, when one goes into the field of exact science, of geology, one finds in Austria something that corresponds to what Austria's great poets claim as their most distinctive feature. If you observe Hamerling, if you observe Jakob Julius David, if you consider other great Austrian poets: the characteristic feature is that they all want to tie in with the great destiny of humanity. And that is also what gives them the most intimate and profound satisfaction. A man who was a friend of mine wrote a novel at the time, to Hamerling's great satisfaction, in which he attempted to express medieval knowledge in the form of individual figures in terms of cultural history. The novel is called “The Alchemist”. It is by Fritz Lemmermayer. And Fritz Lemmermayer is not an outstanding talent. He is even a talent who, after this novel, has hardly achieved anything significant again. But one can see that the essence that runs through the nation can take hold of the individual and find characteristic expression even in this untalented person, in all his volition.

As I said, even in the exact science of geology, something like this can come to the fore. It is probably a deep necessity that this is the case with the great Viennese geologist Eduard Sueß, perhaps one of the greatest geologists of all time, to whom we owe the study of the conditions of the Vienna Basin. Just the sight of this Vienna Basin, with its tremendous diversity, which in turn combines into a wonderful unity, could instinctively give rise to a great, powerful geological idea, which comes to light in this man and of which one must say that it could only have been developed from the Austrian character, for Eduard Sueß is an archetypally Austrian personality in his entire being: this unity in diversity, I would say, this microscopic imprint of the entire geology of the earth in the Vienna Basin. This is evident in the fact that Eduard Sueß, in our time, that is, in the last third of the nineteenth century, was able to make the decision to create a three-volume work, “The Face of the Earth,” a book in which everything that lives and works and has lived and worked in the earth in geological terms is pieced together into a significant, rounded image on a large scale, so that the earth becomes visible. Every aspect is treated with exactitude, but when one beholds the entire face of the Earth as Sueß has created it, the Earth appears as a living being, so that one immediately sees: Geology comes from the earth. If one followed Suess further, something would be created in which the planet would be directly connected to the whole cosmos. Suess takes the earth so far in this respect that, to a certain extent, the earth is alive and one only has the need to ask further: How does this earth live in the whole cosmos, now that it has been understood geologically?

Just as much in Austrian poetry is connected with the Austrian landscape and Austrian nature, so I believe that the geology of Austria in the narrower sense is connected with the fact that, perhaps, in the spiritual life of humanity: that from Vienna this book in the field of geology could arise, this book, which is just as exactly scientifically as ingeniously assessed and executed and in which really everything that geology has created up to Sueß is processed in an overall picture, but in such a way that one really believes at last that the whole earth is no longer the dead product of the usual geology, but as a living being. I believe that in this area, precisely what could come from Eduard Sueß's Austrian identity plays into the scientific achievements—by no means in any way into the objectivity of the sciences, which is certainly not endangered by this—what could come from Eduard Sueß's Austrian identity. And when you look into this Austrianness in so many different areas, you realize that figures like those created by Jakob Julius David really do exist, in whom a single trait of the soul often takes hold because the difficulties of life have pushed aside the others, and fills them so completely that the individual soul has its strength, but also its power and its reassurance and its consolation. These figures become particularly interesting when these souls mature into people of knowledge.

And there is a figure from the Upper Austrian countryside, from the Ischl area – I have already referred to the name in the previous lecture – there is the remarkable farmer and philosopher Conrad Deubler. If you imagine every figure that Jakob Julius David created from Austrian life to be a little younger, if you imagine the events of this life that shaped this life later to be absent and imagine them in the soul of Conrad Deubler, then any such figure could become Conrad Deubler. Because this Conrad Deubler is also extremely characteristic of the people of the Austrian Alpine countries. Born in Goisern in the Ischl region, he becomes a miller, later an innkeeper, a person who is deeply predisposed to be a person of insight. When I now speak about Conrad Deubler, I ask that it not be taken as discordant to point out that, of course, a world view such as Conrad Deubler's is not represented here; that it is always emphasized that one must go beyond what Conrad Deubler thought in order to achieve a spiritualization of the world view. But what matters is not clinging to certain dogmas, but being able to recognize the honesty and justification of every human striving for knowledge. And even if one cannot agree with anything that Conrad Deubler actually professed, the contemplation of this personality, especially in connection with characteristics of Austrian life, means something that is typical and significant in particular, in that it expresses how, from within those circumstances, there is a striving for wholeness that, in many respects, can be compared spiritually to being spatially enclosed by mountains. Conrad Deubler is an insightful person, despite not even having learned to write properly, despite having had very little schooling. Jakob Julius David calls the personalities he describes and sketches “musers.” In my home region of Lower Austria, the Waldviertel, they would have been called “simulators.” These are people who have to go through life musing, but who associate something sensitive with musing, who find much to criticize in life. In Austria, we call this “raunzing” about life. People grumble about life a lot. But this criticism is not dry criticism; this criticism is something that is immediately transformed into inner life, especially in figures like Conrad Deubler. He is a man of insight from the very beginning, even though he couldn't write properly. He is always going for books. In his youth, he starts with a good book, a book that aspires from the sensual to the spiritual: Grävell, “Der Mensch” (Man). Deubler reads this in 1830 (he was born in 1814), and Sintenis, “Der gestirnte Himmel” (The Starry Sky), Zschokke's “Stunden der Andacht” (Hours of Devotion). But he doesn't really feel at home with these things, he can't go along with these things. He is a contemplative by nature, and he is imbued with enthusiasm to find satisfaction for the soul not only for himself, but also for those who inhabit his village with him. Something in these people is striving out of the traditional worldview. Then Conrad Deubler becomes acquainted with the ideas that most deeply moved and stirred the times at that time – he becomes acquainted with writings that were written out of the spirit of Darwinism. He becomes acquainted with Ludwig Feuerbach, with David Friedrich Strauss. Later he becomes acquainted with the writings of Ernst Haeckel, but this is later. He reads all of this, devouring it. I will mention in passing that he was sentenced to several years in prison for dealing with such reading material and reading such things to his fellow villagers, and for founding a kind of library for his fellow villagers. It was from 1852 to 1856 – for religious disturbance, blasphemy and spreading blasphemous views! But as I said, I only mention this in passing, because Conrad Deubler bore the whole thing manfully. For him, it was a matter of penetrating to knowledge out of a fundamental urge of his soul. And so we see in this farmer what we may see in another spirit, I would say, on a higher plane of life, at the very end. We see in this spirit how attempts are made to reconcile the scientific way of thinking with the deepest needs of the soul. That Conrad Deubler could arrive at a purely naturalistic-materialistic view of life should, as I said, not concern us. For what matters is not that, but that in such people there lives the urge to see nature itself spiritualized. Even if they initially only accept it sensually, in them all lives the urge to accept nature spiritually. And from such a view of nature, a spiritualized view of life must nevertheless arise in the course of human evolution. So this simple farmer has gradually become a famous personality, especially among the most enlightened spirits of the materialistic epoch. He was an enthusiastic traveler and not only learned in his early youth in Vienna what he wanted to learn, he also traveled to Feuerbach in Nuremberg. But it is particularly interesting how his inn in Goisern became a place of residence for the most important people in the field of natural science and natural philosophy. Haeckel repeatedly stopped at Deubler's, staying there for weeks at a time. Feuerbach often stopped there. Deubler corresponded with David Friedrich Strauß, with the materialist Vogt, with the so-called fat Vogt, with all kinds of people, and we should not be disturbed by the unorthographic, the ungrammatical, but rather we should be struck by the unspoilt nature of the man of knowledge.

And I would like to say that this trait, which in Deubler appears in the rustic and coarse, appears in the man, whom I already referred to in the previous lecture, in a highly subtle way: Bartholomäus von Carneri, the real Austrian philosopher of the last third of the nineteenth century. Carneri is also the type of mind that is initially overwhelmed by Darwinism, but which shows all the more clearly how impossible it is for him to really accept science as it is accepted in Central Europe; how it is impossible for such a mind not to link science to the innermost striving of the human being, not to seek the path that leads from science to religious deepening and religious contemplation. Bartholomäus von Carneri is precisely one of those minds for whom it is true when Asia says to the blond Teut that the most serious thinking in the German spirit wants to arise out of love and come to the intimacy of God. Even if this intimacy with God comes to us, as it were, in atheistic clothing in Carneri, it still comes to us from the most intense and honest spiritual striving. Carneri, as a philosopher and as a man of world-view, stands entirely on the ground of the view that everything that is spirit can only appear to man in matter. And now Carneri is under the influence of a strange delusion. One could say that he is under the influence of the delusion that he now regards the world in terms of nothing but concepts and ideas, in terms of nothing but perceptions and sensations that are born of the spirit, with which he believes he can grasp and comprehend only material things, only the sensual. When someone looks at something sensual, says Carneri, this sensuality can be divided, but the division goes only so far that we can survey this limited thing with our senses. But when the division continues, when the differentiation becomes so fine that no sense can oversee it, then what lives in the differentiated material must be grasped by thinking, and then it is spirit, - spiritually out of the belief that actually only the natural is naturally understood. This is very characteristic, because Carneri's world view is really instinctive spiritualized materialism; one could even say purest spiritualism. And only through the trend of the times, through the effect of the times, did the deception arise that what Carneri speaks of can only be meant spiritually, when in fact it is fundamentally only expressions of the material. But what Carneri grasps so instinctively idealistically, consciously naturalistically, he must necessarily attach to ethics. And what man works out for himself in the way of morals becomes, for Carneri, because he strives for a certain monism of world view, only a sum of higher natural laws. And so Carneri, precisely because he is subject to the characterized deception, transfers the moral, the highest impulses of moral action, into the human soul like natural impulses. And there one sees particularly what is actually at work in minds like Carneri's. In their youth, they lived in a world view that made a fundamental distinction between spirit and nature. They could not reconcile this with the urge of their souls. What science has produced in three to four centuries, these minds had grasped instinctively: No, nature cannot be what it is or should be according to the old traditions; in many of its aspects, nature cannot simply be an abandoned child of the gods. What is the lawfulness of the world must live in nature.

And yet, although such people only wanted to be naturalists, it was basically the urge to give nature its spirit, which lived in them. This is what makes these men so extraordinarily characteristic. And if it can be shown, even in the case of Sueß, the geologist, how his nationality gave a special human colouring to his great work on geology, the same could be shown in the case of a philosopher like Carneri, if one were now to follow his inner life. Precisely what emerges from the observation with regard to the lawful connection between the most diverse nationally colored human minds, as they can be found in Austria, had the particular effect that there, in complicated form, in manifold form, human images stepped before the soul in such a way that riddle upon riddle arose. And in looking at human experiences, at people one has before one daily, one looked at something where the natural plays up into the moral and the moral plays down again into the natural. So it was that in Carneri a noble ethical world view of the historical course of humanity was intimately mixed with a certain naturalism, which, however, is basically only a transitional product, a transitional from which most of all that could be found as a later stage is represented here as a spiritual science, if one is only aware that everything in the world needs its historical development.

Thus, in Carneri's work, a certain view of the ethical, historical ethical life of humanity is combined with the natural life. For him, natural life and historical life merge into one. He sharpens his view of the natural phenomena he has observed so wonderfully, I might say so lovingly and intimately, for the phenomena of humanity, insofar as they take place between nation and nation. The one always clarifies the other. And Carneri had the opportunity, in particular, to be able to contribute to the development of Austria's destiny because he was a member of the Austrian Parliament for a long time and because he absorbed the basic conditions of Austria at that time in the most honest way into his soul. He was born in Trento in 1821, the son of a senior Austrian civil servant. It is remarkable that today I often have to describe personalities to you who were outwardly tormented by deep suffering. Carneri was a twin child. His twin sister developed quite well. But from the beginning he was afflicted with a curvature of the spine. He was ill all his life, paralyzed down one side. He also corresponded with Conrad Deubler. And although I have already been made aware from another source of what Carneri's external life was like, I would still like to present to you the words that Carneri wrote to Deubler on October 26, 1881, so that you can see what an extraordinarily physically tormented man Carneri was. “Do you know,” Carneri wrote to Deubler, ”that the description of your home has made my heart very heavy? It reminded me of the time when I was healthy. I have the forest just behind the house and I have not entered it for years because I can only walk on completely flat paths. I have long since renounced any higher enjoyment of nature, but also everything that is called social entertainment. Incidentally, I can't say that I feel any less happy as a result. Due to a muscle cramp in my neck (torticollis intermittens), which often extends across half of my body, my existence is an extraordinarily arduous one. But I don't mind, and that's what matters. In short, it will be difficult for me to visit you; but if it is feasible one day, I will. We are sticking together, even without knowing each other face to face, and that's the main thing."

And I have read here before how the Austrian poet Marie Eugenie delle Grazie, who knew Carneri well, described the exterior of Carneri from a moving scene. She describes it as follows: ”... “How could you bear it, all these years, and still keep that smile, that kindness and joy of life?” I cried out in agony when Carneri suffered such an attack in my presence. Slowly he raised his head, which had sunk low on his chest, wiped the sweat from his forehead and cheeks with his trembling left hand, breathed deeply and looked at me with a look that was once again all sun and willpower. “How so?” he smiled. ‘But don't you understand that in my daily struggle with such a beast, I wanted to remain a man, and become a man I had to? I —, he smiled again, ’just had my ambitions. That‘, he pointed to his still-twitching body, ’should be stronger than me? Should it be able to rob me of my days? To make me loathe all the joys and beauties of life? Would I be a man if I did not remain the stronger? So it began, and so it will end.

Thus speaks one who, due to the previously described deception, believes himself to be a naturalist, but who has absorbed a noble ethic from naturalism. But he also shows us a personality that, in a certain respect, contains within itself much that is genuinely Austrian: the ability to turn a strong soul into a strong soul and not to be able to bear weakness being taken as weakness, but rather acting — was particularly developed in this Carneri. And this sense is poured over his entire philosophy. And if you read his works, you will find this sense. But you will also find the infinitely loving response to the facts of life. Incidentally, it already emerges in his poems, in his various writings, which appeared as early as 1840. And the whole of Carneri – it was wonderful to look at him. He stands before me as I look down from the gallery of the Austrian House of Representatives. It was always an important day when one knew that Carneri would speak. Carneri, who was half paralyzed, who could only walk on flat paths, who could only speak in such a way that half of his tongue participated in the speaking, so to speak, that only half of his brain was only half thinking. This Carneri had conquered his physicality; that he now stood there and that his speech was imbued with the most tremendous acumen, with which he saw through everything that could be seen through, that could be condemned. And everywhere he found the right words, which shot like an arrow at those who were to be hit, and which could everywhere inspire those who wanted to be inspired. Carneri was far too much of an idealist for his speeches to always be followed by action. But his speeches were feared in a certain way. In a scholarly way, he presented to his parliament what he carried in his whole thinking – one might say: Austria. This lived and this spoke. And whether he spoke where he could agree with something or whether he spoke as an opponent – that which was discerning Austrian patriotism always spoke through Carneri; such a patriotism, which seeks the tasks of this Austrian national community in the whole historical development of mankind. And even when he spoke about individual matters, not in abstract terms but with all the color of his speech, a great historical trend came to life. And even when he had to reproach, when he had to reproach bitterly, I would say that in his thoughts the blood relationship between this thinker Carneri and Austrian-ness came to life. Therefore, anyone who is aware of this can never forget how the words of one of his last speeches must have sounded from Carneri's mouth, where he saw some things approaching that the opponents of Central Europe had overestimated, that were not as the opponents of Central Europe believed, but that could have been brought about by many out of lack of understanding. Carneri was one of those who saw it from afar, but who, above all, did not want to merely criticize it, so that Austria would remain truly strong. That is why his words of reproach had such an effect that they could remain in the soul. And those who heard such words of reproach, such words of reproach imbued with the deepest feeling, which he uttered in one of his last most brilliant speeches, where he said: “I document thereby express my conviction... which can be summarized in two words, two words which — and I have experienced many a serious moment in my sixty years — I utter for the first time in my life today: Poor Austria!” That such words could be spoken, that there were people who felt that way, is where the forces lie that today have their counter-image in the vilifications of Austria's opponents, outside of Austria, among the enemies of Austria. In Carneri, something of the spirit of those who, in all their diversity, strove to bring Austria powerfully into harmony, because they understood the necessity of the harmony of this diversity, lived.

In the end, he went blind. He celebrated his eightieth birthday in 1900 – by then he had gone blind. As a blind man, he wrote his Dante translation at the time. He dictated from memory, because he had Dante's Divine Comedy in his soul and was able to translate it from memory. At that time, his life was behind him. In many, it lives on, in more people than one might think. He had become blind, weak. As a blind man, he sat in a wheelchair; he had eighty years behind him, sixty years of work. “Realized” - I say this in parentheses - when this man was eighty years old and blind, the University of Vienna ‘recognized’ him by awarding him the doctorate as an eighty-year-old blind man and declaring that it understood something of his merits, with the words: ”We highly appreciate that you have been able to give your scientific ideas such a form that they are able to penetrate into further circles of the people, and that your honorable sir, in addition to the noblest devotion to Austria, has always represented those principles of freedom in your public activities, without whose unreserved recognition a successful advancement of knowledge and scientific work is not possible.” One must be glad that such things as Carneri has done for the benefit of his country and, dare I say it, for the benefit of humanity, are at least recognized; even if one can become eighty years old, blind and deaf before they are recognized. Well, that is the way things are going today.

Unfortunately, I have already taken up far too much of your time; but I could continue at length by attempting to describe, not by means of description, but by means of symptoms, in which, I believe - not always in such a refined way, of course - Austrian folklore lives, but which also shows what this Austrian folklore is when it can show itself in its noblest blossoms. I have mentioned these noblest blossoms because I believe that it is good if the population of Central Europe gets to know each other better in our difficult times, also in a spiritual sense. For time is forging a whole out of this Central Europe, and a unified spirit already prevails in this whole. And the better we get to know this unified spirit, the more alive it will appear to us, and the more we will be able to trust it. All the more will one be able to believe that, despite all misunderstanding, it cannot be overcome. In the German representatives of Central Europe there lives, in many cases, what I have already had to characterize as not simply an instinctive devotion to nationality, but an ideal to which one wants to develop, which consists in spirituality and in the development of strength, which one can only approach and which one can only truly appreciate when one regards it in connection with what leads to the salvation of all mankind. Indeed, there is something about the most German of Germans when they speak of their nationality that others cannot understand; for never does anything else live in the Germans but the duty: You must develop what wants to live through your nationality in the world! The duty to develop is, in a sense, to be national. Hence the constant urge to place one's own nationality within the context of the goals of all humanity. And so it was with Carneri, that in his soul-searching he found what, ethically, must be connected as the basic features of the development of all humanity with natural law. For him, this was one. But he regarded it with such love that for him the Germanic ideals were also part of the historical development of all mankind. And he could compare, and only because he really compared, he felt entitled to think about the Germanic as he did. I would have much more to say about it, but there is not enough time. A mind like Carneri's first looks at the essential nature of the various nations, and then he allows the value of his own nation to emerge before himself in the right image. He considers his own national substance in connection with other national substances. From this point of view, he says to himself: The freedom of all nations, the recognition of every nation, is compatible with everything German, because that lies in the whole German development. And this, for Carneri, is contradicted, for example, by the Pan-Slav ideal, which proceeds from the a priori view that supremacy must one day be granted to every nation; which works towards getting supremacy. In contrast to this, Carneri says: The leadership of the Germanic spirit, which dominates Europe and extends to the distant West, originates from the concept of morality, which, on the favorable soil that has made it flourish, bears beneficial fruits. It cannot, therefore, last any longer than this world is habitable. And precisely at the time when Carneri was a member of the Austrian parliament, the situation in Central Europe, particularly in the political sphere and in the field of political observation, was such that England and the English constitution were seen as a model. Many politicians wanted to model the constitution of all countries on the English model. And much else in England was seen as a model. Carneri was very much involved in such politics, where many of his comrades thought this way. But Carneri wanted to come to clarity. Carneri wanted to be objective in his view of humanity. But out of this objectivity arose his sense of belonging to the Germanic-Germanic essence and his objective assessment of a country like England. What I am going to share with you now, Carneri did not just write before the war – he died long before the war, after all – he wrote it in the 1860s. “England,” he says, ‘the country of continuous progress par excellence, will turn to general ideas if it is not to descend from the proud heights it has climbed. Nothing characterizes it better than the fact that it has become so ’practical' in the self-confident development of its greatness that it had to learn from the Germans that it had produced the greatest playwright in the world!” In a spirit like Carneri's, this is not just any kind of jingoism, it is a sense of belonging to the Germanic essence; a sense of belonging that arises from knowledge, that arises precisely from deep knowledge, and that does not want to allow itself to appear in the world and claim what it is entitled to claim before it can justify itself before the entire mission of humanity on earth. This is something that, whether it is spoken in Germany or in Austria, can find little understanding among the others, because it is basically the national conception of the specifically German.

With regard to Austria, however, I have, I believe, characterized something of Austrian-ness for you more than descriptive words can, by showing some of living people. And I hope that I have characterized Austrian character in these living people in such a way that, through the contemplation of these living people, the conviction can arise that this Austria is not just a motley collection, brought together by some arbitrary act, but that it corresponds to an inner necessity. The people I have tried to present to you prove this. And they prove this, I think, by the fact that one can say of them, as of deeply thinking souls, seeking a world view or an art out of a deep temperament, what has been said in another area and in another respect with reference to the Austrian Field Marshal Radetzky. The saying that was then repeated was once said with reference to the Austrian Field Marshal Radetzky: “In your camp is Austria!” I believe that one can expand on this saying and say of such people, as I have tried to interpret for you, that in their searching souls Austria lives, Austria lives as something that they feel is a necessity: “In their thoughts Austria lives!” And I believe that Austria lives in a very lively way.

Strakosch Sanatorium Wiesneck 15.2.57

Buchenbach im Breisgau

Dear Mr. Bock!

From the fact that I am writing from Wiesneck, you will be able to conclude that many things have turned out quite differently than we expected. We came here on July 31, stayed in the so-called country house, which is furnished for convalescents, and hoped to regain our strength by Michaelmas so that we could then resume our normal life in Dornach. But in August, Frau Strakosch suffered a dangerous relapse. We suddenly had to move to the actual sanatorium, where we are still today, because the periods of improvement were followed by repeated relapses. As a result, I was unable to carry out my intended visit to Stuttgart to see you. In December and early January, little went well, but fortunately Ms. Strakosch has been getting a little stronger in the last few weeks. However, we will probably have to stay here for some time. Given these facts, you can well imagine that I am still a little upset. We hope that you were able to recover properly in the Black Forest and we wish you – unfortunately belatedly, but all the more sincerely for it – all the best for your health and your work. In view of the tragic events in society, your work is now more important than ever. Will friends in Germany finally wake up and take positive action?

And now to the subject of the F.M. and M.Ac. – I would like to proceed in the order of your letter.

The 5th degree was that of the “Knights of the Rose Cross”. – I have only ever met Michael Bauer in the fourth degree. From the very beginning, there were 9 (nine) degrees in the M.Ae.. The number of 33 degrees is based - as Rudolf Steiner told me - on the fact that the F. M. could not read occult correctly. Because two threes 3 3 must be read 3x3 = 9! This simplifies the question. In the M.Ae. the first three degrees - symbolic degrees - (they corresponded to my view) were called the “II. class”. When one was initiated into these degrees, the answer to the question of the Dweller of the Threshold, “Have all the conditions been fulfilled?” was: “The Great Master has granted a dispensation.” From the 4th degree onwards, we knew that one had to have occult abilities. Therefore, there were only a few members of these degrees. There were about 12 in the 5th degree; Marie Steiner was the only one in the 6th degree. It was called the Kadosh or Avenger degree.

What you mean by the transition from black to red in connection with the 5th degree is not clear to me. I only experienced during each practice of the ritual how at a certain word of the so-called “Rosicrucian conclusion” the black curtains fell and the walls lit up in red.

I never heard of an analogy between the degrees of the M.Ac. and those of the outer F. M.; it may never have been mentioned, because Rudolf Steiner soon said that we were now on our own. (In terms of meaning, I no longer remember the wording.) The degrees of the FM did not apply in the M.Ac. I knew personalities who had reached high degrees in the FM, but in the M.Ae. they had to start from the bottom. We were also not allowed to call ourselves or identify ourselves as “Freemasons” in relation to the FM.

We had only three altars. At the altar of the East, Rudolf Steiner always stood as the “master”; Marie von Sivers was always at his left. The other altars were occupied by personalities from the respective cities.

There was no mention of a transition from compass to straight edge in my case. I only know that in the formula spoken in the ritual from the first degree onwards, only the brothers of the past, the present and the future are mentioned, and that the first are referred to as: “We take compass and straight edge in our hands...”

I do not want to give up hope that I will be able to talk to you about these and other things one day. In a strange way, two rhythms overlap in Mrs. Strakosch's and my life. As you know from volume 1 of my “Life Paths” ($. 35), Rudolf Steiner invited me in March 1908 to work for anthroposophy, that is 49 = 7 x 7 years, and for 33 years this work has been developing within the form that Rudolf Steiner gave it at the Christmas Conference.

Ms. Strakosch and I thank you very much for your kind wishes and send you our warmest regards,

Alexander Strakosch

We have seen how the study of karma, wherein the destiny of man is contained, leads us from the affairs of the farthest universe—from the worlds of the stars—down to the tenderest experiences of the human heart, inasmuch as the heart is an expression of all that man feels working upon him during life,—of all that happens to him in the whole nexus of earth-existence. When we try to arrive at our judgments through a deeper understanding of the karmic connections, we are driven again and again to look into these two domains of world-existence which lie so far removed from one another. Indeed we must say: Whatever else we may be studying,—be it Nature, or the more natural configuration of human evolution in history or in the life of nations—none of these leads us so high up into cosmic realms as the study of karma. The study of karma makes us altogether aware of the connections between human life here upon earth and that which goes on in the wide universe. We see this human life taking its course on earth, unfolding till about the 70th year of life, when in a certain connection it attains its limit. Whatever lies beyond this is in reality a life given by grace. What lies below this limit stands under karmic influences, and these we shall now have to study.

It is possible, as I have often mentioned from varied points of view, to put the length of human life on earth at about 72 years. Now 72 years, seen in relation to the secrets of the cosmos, is a remarkable number, the true significance of which only begins to dawn upon us when we consider what I may call the cosmic secret of human earthly life. We have already described what the world of the stars is from a spiritual point of view. When we enter on a new earthly life, we return, so to speak, from the world of stars to this life on earth.

At this point once more it is astonishing how the ancient ideas—even if we do not take our start from tradition—simply emerge again of their own accord when we approach these domains of life with the help of modern spiritual science. We have seen how the various planetary stars and fixed stars take part in human life and in all that permeates this human life on earth. If we have before us an earthly life that has taken its full course,—one that does not come to an end all too soon, but that has passed through half at least of the allotted earthly time,—then in the last resort we find this truth once more: The human being, inasmuch as he comes down from cosmic spiritual spaces into an earthly life, comes always from a certain star. We can trace the very direction of it, and it is not unreal—on the contrary, it is most exact, to say:—‘The human being has his star.’ If we take what is experienced beyond all space and time between death and a new birth, and translate this into its spatial image, we can say: Every man has his star, which determines what he has attained between death and a new birth.

He comes from the direction of a certain star. We may indeed receive into our minds this conception. The whole human race inhabiting the earth is to be found on the one hand by looking round about us upon earth, passing through these many continents, finding them peopled by the human beings who are now incarnated. And the others who are not on the earth, where in the universe shall we find them? Whither must we look in the great universe if we would turn our soul's gaze to them,—assuming that a certain time has elapsed since they went through the gate of death? The answer is: We look in the true direction when we look out upon the starry heavens. There are the souls—or at least the directions which will enable us to find the souls—-who are spending their life between death and a new birth. We see and comprehend the entire human race that inhabits the earth, when we look upward and downward.

Those alone who are now on the way thither or returning thence, we find in the planetary region. But we can certainly not speak of the midnight hour of existence between death and a new birth, without thinking of some star which the human being as it were indwells between death and a new birth (albeit we must always bear in mind what I have said about the beings of the stars).

Then, my dear friends, we shall approach the cosmos with this knowledge. Away there are the stars, the cosmic signs from which there shines and lightens down upon us the soul-life of those who are between death and a new birth. And then we become aware that we can look also at the constellations of stars, saying to ourselves: ‘How is all this, that we behold in cosmic spaces, connected with the life of man?’ We look up with a new fulness of heart and mind to the silvery moon, the dazzling blaze of the sun, the twinkling stars at night-time, and we feel ourselves united even humanly with all of these. This is what Anthroposophy is to attain at last for the souls of men: they shall feel themselves united even in a human way with the whole cosmos. It is at this point that certain secrets of cosmic existence first begin to dawn upon us.

The sun rises and sets; the stars rise and set. We can trace how the sun sets, for example in the region where there are certain groups of stars. We can trace what is now called the apparent course of the stars, circling round the earth. We can trace the course of the sun. In 24 hours, the sun circles around the earth—‘apparently’ as we say nowadays,—and the stars too circle around the earth. So we say: but it is not quite correct. For if again and again we attentively observe the course of stars and sun, we perceive at length that the sun does not always rise at the same time in relation to the stars. It grows ever a little later. Day after day it arrives a little later at the place where it was on the previous day in relation to the stars. These spaces of time, by which the sun remains behind the stars in their course, add up till they become an hour, two hours, three hours, and at length a day. Thus at length the time approaches when we can say: The sun has remained behind the star by a whole day.

Now let us assume: Someone was born on the 1st of March in a particular year. And, let us say, he lived till the end of his 72nd year. He always celebrates his birthday on the 1st of March, for the sun says: His birthday is on the 1st of March. And he can celebrate it so, for throughout the 72 years of his life (though it progresses in relation to the stars) the sun shines forth ever and again in the neighbourhood of the star that shone when he came down to earth. But when he has lived for 72 years, a full day has elapsed. He has arrived at an age in life when the sun leaves the star into which it entered when he began his life. At his birthday now he is beyond the 1st of March. The star no longer says the same as the sun; the stars say it is the 2nd of March; the sun says it is the 1st. The human being has lost a cosmic day, for it takes just 72 years for the sun to remain behind a star.

During this time which the sun can spend in the region of his star, a man can live on earth. Then (under normal conditions) when the sun is no longer there to comfort his star for his life on earth, when the sun no longer says to his star: ‘He is down there, and I from myself am giving thee what he—this human being—has to give to thee; and for the time being, as I cover thee, I am doing for him what thou dost for him between death and a new birth,’ when the sun can no longer speak thus to the star, the star summons the man back again.

Thus you perceive the processes in the heavens immediately connected with human existence upon earth. In the mysteries of the heavens we see the age of man's life expressed. Man can live 72 years, because in this time the sun remains a day behind. After that time the sun can no longer comfort the star which it could comfort while it stood before and covered it. The star has become free again for the soul-spiritual work of man within the cosmos.

These things cannot be understood in any other way than with reverence,—with that deep reverence which was called in the ancient Mysteries ‘the reverence for that which is above.’ For this reverence leads us ever and again to see what happens here on earth in connection with what is unfolded in the sublime, majestic writing of the stars. It is indeed a limited life men lead today, compared to what was still existing at the beginning of the 3rd Post-Atlantean epoch. They did not merely base their reckoning, their understanding of man, on that which describes his steps upon the earth; they reckoned with what the stars of the great universe are saying about the life of man.

Once we are attentive to such connections and able to receive them with reverence into our souls, then too we know: ‘Whatever happens here on earth has its corresponding counterpart in the spiritual worlds.’ In the writing of the stars is expressed the kind of connection that exists between what happens here, and what happened (to speak from the earthly point of view) ‘some time ago’ in the spiritual world. In truth our every reflection upon karma should be accompanied by holy reverence and awe before the secrets of the universe.

In such a mood of reverence, let us approach the studies of karma which we are to make here during the near future. To begin with let us take this fact: Here are sitting a number of human beings, a section of what we call the Anthroposophical Society; and though one of us may be united with this Anthroposophical Society by stronger links, and another by less strong, it is in all cases part of a man's destiny—and the destiny that underlies these things is powerful—it is a part of his destiny that he has found his way into the Anthroposophical Society. Moreover, it lies inherent in the spiritualisation which must come over the Anthroposophical Society since the Christmas Foundation Meeting:—We must become ever more conscious of the spiritual, cosmic realities that underlie such a community as this Society. For out of such a consciousness the individual will then be able to take his true stand in the Society. Hence you will understand—along with all the other responsibilities resulting from the Christmas Foundation Meeting—that we must now begin to say something too about the karma of the Anthroposophical Society. It is very complicated, for it is a karma of community,—a karma that arises from the karmic coming-together of many single human beings. Take in its true and deep meaning all that has been said in these lectures and all that results from the many relationships that have been unfolded here; then, my dear friends, you will yourselves perceive that what is taking place here in our midst—where a number of human beings are led by their karma into the Anthroposophical Society—has been preceded by many and important events which happened to these very human beings before they came down into this present earthly life—events moreover which were themselves the after-effects of what had taken place in former lives on earth.

Let your thought dwell for a moment on the great vistas that are opened up by such an idea as this. Then you will realise how this thought may by and by be deepened till there emerges the spiritual history that stands behind the Anthroposophical Society. But this cannot be accomplished all at once. It can only enter our consciousness slowly and gradually; then only will it be possible to build even the conduct and action of the Anthroposophical Society on the foundations which are actually there for anthroposophists.

It is of course Anthroposophy as such which holds the Society together. In one way or another, everyone who finds his way into the Society must be seeking for Anthroposophy. And the preceding causes are to be sought for in the experiences which were undergone, by the souls who now become anthroposophists, before they came down into this earthly life.

At the same time, if we look out into the world with a clear perception of what has happened hitherto, we are also bound to admit: There are many human beings whom we find here or there in the world today, and of whom—looking at their connection with their pre-earthly life—we must say that they were truly pre-destined by their pre-natal life for the Anthroposophical Society; and yet, owing to certain other things, they are unable to find their way into it. There are far more of them than we generally think.

This must bring still nearer to our hearts the question: What is the pre-destination that leads a soul to Anthroposophy?

I will take my start from extreme examples, which are all the more instructive in showing how the karmic forces work. In the Anthroposophical Society the question of karma does indeed arise before the individual in a more intensive way than in other realms of life. I need only say the following: The souls who are incarnated in a human body now,—to begin with we cannot possibly follow them back far enough to assume that they experienced directly in their past earthly lives anything that could lead them, for example, to Eurhythmy (to take this radical instance from within the Anthroposophical Movement). For Eurhythmy did not exist in the times when the souls who now seek for it were incarnated. Thus the burning question arises: How comes it that a soul finds its way into Eurhythmy out of the working of the karmic forces?

But so it is in all the domains of life. Souls are there today, seeking the way to that which Anthroposophy can give them. How do they come to unfold all the pre-dispositions of their karma from past earthly lives, precisely in this direction which leads them to Anthroposophy?

In the first place there are some souls who are driven to Anthroposophy with strong inner intensity. The intensity of these forces is not the same in all. Some souls are driven to Anthroposophy with such inward intensity that it seems as though they were steering straight towards it without any by-ways at all, finding their way directly into one domain or another of the anthroposophical life.

There are a number of souls who steer their cosmic way in this sense for the following reason: In past centuries, when they had their former life on earth, they felt with peculiar intensity that Christianity had reached a definite turning-point. They lived in an age when the main effect of Christianity was to pass over into a more or less instinctive human feeling. It was an age when Christianity was practised in a perfectly natural and simple way but quite instinctively; so that the question did not really occur to the souls of men: Why am I a Christian? Such souls we find especially if we turn our gaze to the 13th, 12th, 11th, 10th, 9th, and 8th centuries after Christ. There we find Christ-permeated souls, who were growing and evolving towards the age of Consciousness (the age of the Spiritual Soul), but who, since this age had not yet begun, were still receiving Christianity into the pure Mind-Soul. On the other hand, with respect to the worldly affairs of life, they already experienced the dawn of what the Spiritual Soul is destined to bring.

Thus their Christianity lived in a way unconsciously. It was in many respects a deeply pious Christianity, but it lived, if I may say so, leaving the head on one side and entering straight into the functions of the organism. Now that which is unconscious in one life becomes a degree more conscious in the next life on earth: and so this Christianity which had not become fully clear or self-conscious, became at length a challenge and a question for these human souls: ‘Why are we Christians?’

The outcome was (I am speaking in an introductory way today, hinting at matters which will be spoken of more fully afterwards) the outcome was that in the life between death and a new birth these souls had a certain connection once more in the spiritual world, especially in the first half of the 19th century. In the first half of the 19th century there were gatherings of souls in the spiritual world,—souls who took the consequences of the Christianity they had experienced on earth, finding it again in the radiance, in the all embracing glory of the spiritual world. Above all in the first half of the 19th century, there were souls in the life between death and a new birth who strove to translate into cosmic Imaginations what they had felt in a preceding Christian life on earth. The very thing that I once described here as a great cult or act of ritual was there enacted in the Supersensible. A large number of souls were gathered in these mutually-woven cosmic Imaginations, in these mighty pictures of a future existence, which they were to seek again in an altered form during their next life on earth.

But in all this was also interwoven all that had taken place between the 7th and 13th or 14th centuries A.D. by way of dire and painful inner conflicts, which were indeed more painful than is generally thought. For the souls to whom I now refer had undergone very much during that time; and all that they had thus undergone, they wove it into the mighty cosmic Imaginations which were woven together by a large number of souls in common, during the first half of the 19th century.

The great cosmic Imaginations that were thus woven were shot through on the one hand by something that I cannot otherwise describe than as a kind of longing and expectant feeling. Working out these mighty Imaginations, the souls experienced within them a concentrated feeling, gathered from manifold experiences, a concentrated feeling within their disembodied souls. It was a feeling which I can describe somewhat as follows: ‘In our last life on earth we inclined towards the living experience of Christianity. Deeply we felt the Mysteries which tradition had preserved for all Christians, telling of the sacred and solemn happenings in Palestine at the beginning of the Christian era. But did He really stand before us in all His glory, in His full radiance?’ The question arose out of their hearts. ‘Was it not only after our death that we learned how Christ had descended from cosmic heights, as a Being of the Sun, to the earth? Did we really experience Him as the Being of the Sun? He is here no longer, He is united with the earth. Here we can only find what is like a great cosmic memory of Him. We must find our way back again to the earth, in order to have the Christ before our souls.’

A longing for Christ accompanied these souls from that time forth, when with the Spirit-Beings of the Hierarchies they wove the mighty and sublime cosmic Imaginations. This longing went with them from their pre-earthly life into the present life on earth.

This can be experienced with overwhelming intensity by spiritual vision when it observes what was taking place in mankind, incarnate and discarnate, in the course of the 19th and 20th centuries. And as I said, all manner of things were mingled into these impressions. For we must remember that in their Christian experience the souls who are now returning had shared in all that was taking place as between those who were striving for Christianity and those who still stood within the old Pagan consciousness,—which was frequently the case during the centuries to which I just now referred. In these souls therefore, many of those influences are present which make it possible for man to fall a victim to the temptations of Lucifer on the one hand and Ahriman on the other. For in karma, Lucifer and Ahriman are weaving, no less than the good gods: this we have already seen.

All that was thus interwoven, and that works itself out karmically today, must be followed out in detail, if we would really penetrate the spiritual foundations of anthroposophical striving. If the Christmas Foundation Meeting is to be taken in real earnest, the time has now come when we must draw aside the veil from certain things. Only they must be taken with the necessary earnestness.

Let us begin, as I said, with a radical instance; and while we discuss the following, let there hold sway in the background, for the rest of this hour, all that has now been said.

From the pre-earthly into this earthly existence, through their education, through all that they experience on earth, human souls find their way. They seek and find their way into the Anthroposophical Society, and remain in it for a time. But there are isolated cases among them, where, having shown themselves zealous, nay over-zealous members of the Anthroposophical Society for a while, they become the most violent opponents. Let us observe the working of karma in an extreme case of this kind.

A person comes into the Anthroposophical Society. He proves a very zealous member, yet after a time he somehow manages to become not only an opponent but a maligner among opponents. We must admit, it is a very strange karma.

We will consider a single case. There is a soul. We look back into a past life on earth, into a time when old memories from the ages of Paganism still lingered on, enticingly for many people. It was a time when men were finding their way on the one hand into a Christianity that spread out with a certain warmth and fire, and yet, for many of them, with a certain superficiality.

When such things are spoken of, we must always remember that we have to begin somewhere or other, at some particular earthly life. Every such earthly life leads back to earlier ones in turn; therefore there will always be some things that remain unexplained—things to which we simply refer as matters of fact. They are of course the karmic consequences of still earlier events, but we have to begin somewhere.

In the period to which I have just referred we find a certain soul. We find him, indeed, in a way that very nearly concerned myself and other present members of this Society. We find him as a would-be maker of gold, in possession of writings, manuscripts which he is hardly able to understand but interprets in his own way and then makes experiments in accordance with the instructions, though he has no real notion what he is doing. For it is by no means a simple matter to look into the spiritually chemical relationships, if we may call them so. Thus we see him as an experimenter, with a little library containing the most varied instructions and recipes going far back into Moorish and Arabian sources. We see him unfolding this activity in an almost out-of-the-way place, though visited by many inquisitive persons. At length, under the influence of the practices in which he engages without understanding, he gets a strange physical debility,—a disease attacking especially the larynx,—and (this being a masculine incarnation) his voice becomes hoarser and hoarser till it has almost vanished.

Meanwhile the Christian teachings are spread abroad; they are taking hold of men on all hands. This man is filled on the one hand with the greedy longing to make gold, and, with the making of gold, to attain many other things attainable at that time if one had been successful in making gold. On the other hand Christianity comes near to him, in a way that is full of reproaches. There arises in him what I may perhaps describe as a kind of Faustian feeling, though not altogether pure. Strong becomes the feeling in him: ‘Have I not really done an awful wrong?’ By-and-by under the influence of such reflections the conclusion grows upon him, living with scepticism in his soul: ‘Your having lost your voice is the divine punishment, the just punishment, for meddling with unrighteous things.’

In this situation of his inner life, he sought out the advice of human beings who have also become united at this present time with the Anthroposophical Society, and who were able at that time really to play a helpful part in his destiny. For they were able to save his soul from deep and anxious doubt. We can really speak of a certain ‘salvation of the soul’ in this case. But all this took place under such conditions that he experienced it with feelings which remained to some extent external, no matter how intense they were. He was overwhelmed on the one hand with a sense of gratitude toward those who had saved his inner life. But on the other hand—unclear as it all was—an appalling Ahrimanic impulse became mingled with it. After the strong inclination towards unrighteous magic practices, and with his present feeling—which was not quite genuine—of having entered into Christian righteousness, an Ahrimanic trait became mixed up in all these things. For in effect the soul was brought into confusion; things were not really clear, and the result was that he brought an Ahrimanic trait into his gratitude. His thankfulness was transformed into something that found an unworthy expression in his soul, and that appeared to him in this light, during his life between death and new birth. It came before him especially when he had reached that point which I described, in the first half of the 19th century. There he had to live through it again; and he experienced the deep unworthiness of what his soul had evolved in that former life, by way of gratitude which was superficial, external, nay even cringing.

We see this picture of Ahrimanised gratitude mixed up in the cosmic Imaginations of which I spoke. And we see the soul descend from that pre-earthly existence into a new earthly life. We see him descend on the one hand with all those impulses that entered into him from the time when he was seeking to make gold,—the materialistic corruption of a spiritual striving. On the other hand we see evolving in him under the Ahrimanic influence something which is distinctly to be perceived as a sense of shame,—shame at his gratitude improperly expressed and superficial.

These two currents live in his soul as he descends to earth. And they express themselves in this way: The soul of whom I am speaking, having become a person again in earthly life, finds his way to those others who were also with him in the first half of the 19th century.

To begin with, a kind of memory arises in him of what he lived through in the Imaginative picture of the unworthy external gratitude. All these things become unfolded now, almost automatically. Then there awakens what is living there within him,—what I described as a sense of shame at his own attitude which had been unworthy of a man. This takes hold of his soul, but, influenced as it is by Ahriman (through the karma of former epochs too, of course), it finds vent as an appalling hatred against all that he had at first espoused. The sense of shame against himself becomes transformed into a wild and angry opposition. And this again is united with dreadful disappointment that all his old subconscious cravings have been so little satisfied. For they would have been satisfied if anything had arisen now, similar to what was contained in the old, improper art of making gold.

You see, my dear friends, here we have a radical example showing how such things turn inward. We have traced the strange mysterious by-ways of such a thing as this: the connection of a sense of shame with hatred. Such things must also be discovered in the connections of human life if we would understand a present life from its preceding conditions.

When we consider such things as these, a certain measure of understanding is indeed poured out over all that takes place through human beings in the world. Then indeed great difficulties of life begin, when we take the thought of karma in real earnest. But these difficulties are meant to come, for they are founded in the real essence of human life. Such a Movement as the Anthroposophical must indeed be exposed to many things, for only so can it evolve the strong forces which it needs.

I gave you this example first, so that you might see how we must seek—even for negative things—the karmic relationships with the whole stream of destiny which is causing the Anthroposophical Movement to arise out of the preceding incarnations of those who are joined together in this Society.

So, my dear friends, we may hope that there will awaken in us by-and-by an entirely new understanding of the essence of this Anthroposophical Society. We may hope to discover, as it were, the very soul of the Anthroposophical Society with all its many difficulties. For in this case too, we must not remain within the limits of the single human life, but trace it back to what is now being—I cannot say re-incarnated—but re-experienced in life. In this direction I wanted to begin today.

I should like to carry to a still wider horizon the reflections I have already made here concerning the relationship between man and the cycle of Nature which was formed in ancient times under the influence of the Mysteries, and to go into what was believed in those times with regard to all that one as man received from the cosmos through this cycle of Nature. You may have gathered from yesterday's lecture as well perhaps as from the recollection of much that I could still say about such matters during the past Christmas season, in the Goetheanum which has now been taken from us—you may have gathered that the cycle of the year in its phenomena was perceived, and indeed today can still be perceived, as a result of life, as something which in its external events is just as much the expression of a living being standing behind it as the actions of the human organism are the manifestations of a being, of the human soul itself.

Let us remind ourselves how, in midsummer, the time we know as St. John's, the people became aware under this ancient Mystery-influence of a certain relationship to their ego, an ego which they did not yet consider as exclusively their own, but which they viewed as resting still in the bosom of the divine-spiritual.

These people believed that by means of the ceremonies I have described, they approached their “I” at midsummer, although throughout the rest of the year it was hidden from them. Of course they thought of themselves as dwelling in their beings altogether in the bosom of the divine-spiritual; but they thought that during the other three-quarters of the year nothing was revealed to them of what belonged to them as their ego. Only in this one quarter, which reached its high point at St. John's, did the essential being of their own ego manifest itself to them as through a window opening out of the divine spiritual world.

Now this essence of the individual ego within the divine spiritual world in which it revealed itself was by no means regarded in such a neutral, indifferent—one may even say phlegmatic—way as is the case today. When the “I” is spoken of today, a person is hardly likely to think of it as having any special connection either with this world or any other. Rather, he thinks of his “I” as a kind of point; what he does rays out from it and what he perceives rays in. But the feeling a person has today in regard to his “I” is of an altogether phlegmatic nature. We cannot really say that modern man even feels the “egoity” of his “I”—in spite of the fact that it is his ego; for anyone who wants to be honest cannot really claim that he is fond of his “I.” He is fond of his body; he is fond of his instincts; he may be fond of this or that experience. But the “I” is just a tiny word which is felt as a point in which all that has been indicated is more or less condensed. But in that period in which, after long preparations had been made, the approach to this “I” was undertaken ceremonially, each man was enabled in a certain sense to meet his “I” in the universe. Following this meeting, then, the “I” was perceived to be once more gradually withdrawing and leaving the human being alone with his bodily and soul nature, or as we would say today, with his physical-etheric-astral being. In that period man felt the “I” perceptively as having a real connection with the entire cosmos, with the whole world.

But what was felt above all else with regard to the relationship of this “I” to the world was not something “naturalistic,” to use the modern term; it was not something received as an external phenomenon. Rather, it was something which was deemed to be the very center of the most ancient moral conception of the world. Men did not expect great secrets of Nature to be revealed to them at this season. To be sure, such Nature secrets were spoken of, but man did not direct his attention primarily to them. Rather, he perceived through his feeling that above all he was to absorb into himself as moral impulse what is revealed at this time of midsummer when light and warmth reach their highest point.

This was the season man perceived as the time of divine-moral enlightenment. And what he wanted above all to obtain from the heavens as “answer” to the performances of music, poetry and dancing that were carried on at this season, what he waited for was that there should be revealed out of the heavens in all seriousness what they required of him morally.

And when all the ceremonies had been carried out that I described yesterday as belonging to the celebration of these festivals during the time of the sun's sultry heat—if it sometimes happened that a powerful storm broke forth with thunder and lightning, then just in this outbreak of thunder and lightning men felt the moral admonition of the heavens to earthly humanity.

There are vestiges from this ancient time in conceptions such as that of Zeus as the god of thunder, armed with a thunderbolt. Something similar is linked with the German god, Donar. This we have on one side. On the other side, man perceptively felt Nature, I might say, as warm, luminous, satisfied in itself. And he felt that this warming, luminous Nature as it was during the daytime remained also into the night time. Only he made a distinction, saying to himself: “During the day the air is filled with the warmth-element, with the light-element. In these elements of warmth and light there weave and live spiritual messengers through whom the higher divine beings want to make themselves known to men, want to endow them with moral impulses. But at night, when the higher spiritual beings withdraw, the messengers remain behind and reveal themselves in their own way.”

And thus it was that especially at midsummer people perceived the ruling and weaving of Nature in the summer nights, in the summer evenings. And what they felt then seemed to them to be a kind of summer dream which they experienced in reality; a summer dream through which they came especially near to the divine-spiritual; a summer dream by which they were convinced that every phenomenon of Nature was at the same time the moral utterance of the gods, but that all kinds of elemental beings were also active there who revealed themselves to men in their own way.

All the fanciful embellishment of the midsummer night's dream, of the St. John's night dream, is what remained later of the wondrous forms conjured by human imagination that wove through this midsummer time on the soul-spiritual level. This then, in all particulars, was taken to be a divine-spiritual moral revelation of the cosmos to man.

And so we may say that the conception underlying this was: at midsummer the divine-spiritual world revealed itself through moral impulses which were implanted in man as Enlightenment (see diagram). And what was felt in a quite special way at that time, what then worked upon man, was felt to be something super-human which played into the human order of things.

From his inner participation in the festivities celebrated in that time, man knew that he was lifted up above himself as he then was into the super-human, and that the Deity grasped the hand that man as it were reached toward him at this season. Everything that man believed to be divine-spiritual within him he ascribed to the revelations of this season of St. John's.

When the summer came to an end and autumn approached, when the leaves were withered and the seeds had ripened, when, that is, the full luxurious life of summer had faded and the trees become bare, then, because the insights of the Mysteries had flowed into all these perceptions, man felt: “The divine-spiritual world is withdrawing again from man.” He notices how he is directed back to himself; he is in a certain sense growing out of the spiritual into Nature.

Thus man felt this “living-into” the autumn as a “living-out-from” the spiritual, as a living into Nature. The tree leaves became mineralized; the seeds dried up and mineralized. Everything inclined in a certain way towards the death of Nature's year.

In being thus interwoven with what was becoming mineral on the Earth and around the Earth, man felt that he himself was becoming woven together with Nature. For in that period man still stood closer in his inner experience to what was going on outside. And he also thought, he pondered in his mind about how he experienced his being woven-together with Nature. His whole thinking took on this character. If we want to express in our language today what man felt when autumn came, we should have to say the following—I beg you, however, to realize that I am using present-day words, and that in those days man would not have been able to speak thus, for then everything rested on perceptive feeling and was not characterized through thinking—but if we want to speak in modern terms we shall have to say: With his particular trend of thinking, with his feeling way of perceiving, the human being experienced the transition from summer to autumn in such a way that he found in it a passing from spirit-knowledge to Nature-knowledge (see diagram). Toward autumn man felt that he was no longer in a time of spirit-knowledge but that autumn required of him that he should learn to know Nature. Thus at the autumn equinox we have, instead of moral impulse, knowledge of Nature, coming to know Nature.

The human being began to reflect about Nature. At this time also he began to take into account the fact that he was a creature, a being within the cosmos. In that time it would have been considered folly to present Nature-knowledge in its existing form to man during the summer. The purpose of summer is to bring man into relation with the spiritual in the world. With the arrival of what we today call the Michaelmas season, people said to themselves: “By everything that man perceives about him in the woods, in the trees, in the plants, he is stimulated to pursue nature-knowledge.” It was the season in which men were to occupy themselves above all with acquiring knowledge, with reflection. And indeed it was also the time when outer circumstances of life made this possible. Human life thus proceeded from Enlightenment to Knowledge. It was the right season for knowledge, for ever-increasing cognition.

When the pupils of the Mysteries received their instruction from the teachers, they were given certain mottoes of which we find adaptations in the maxims of the Greek sages. The “seven maxims” of the Seven Wise Men of Greece are, however, not actually those which originated in the primeval Mysteries.

In the very earliest Mysteries there was a saying associated with midsummer: “Receive the Light” (see diagram). By “Light,” spiritual wisdom was meant. It designated that within which the human being's own “I” shone.

For autumn (see diagram), the motto imprinted in the Mysteries as an admonition pointing to what should be carried on by the souls was: “Look around thee.”

Now there approached the next development of the year, and with it, what man felt within himself to be connected of itself with this year. The season of winter approached. We come to midwinter (see diagram), which includes our Christmas time. Just as the human being in midsummer felt himself lifted out above himself to the divine-spiritual existence of the cosmos, so he felt himself in midwinter to be unfolding downward below himself. He felt as if the forces of the Earth were washing around him and carrying him along. He felt as though his will nature, his instincts and impulses were infiltrated and permeated by gravity, by the force of destruction and other forces that are in the Earth. In these ancient times people did not feel winter as we feel it, that it merely gets cold and we have to put on warm boots, for example, in order not to get chilled. Rather, a man of that ancient time felt what was coming up out of the Earth as something that united itself with his own being. In contrast to the sultry, light-filled element, he felt what came up then in winter as a frosty element. We feel the chilliness today, too, because it is connected with the corporeality; but ancient man felt within his soul as a phenomenon accompanying the cold: darkness and gloom. He felt somewhat as if all around him, wherever he went, darkness rose up out of the Earth and enveloped him in a kind of cloud—only up to the middle of his body, to be sure, but this is the way he felt.

And he said to himself—again I have to describe it in more modern words—man said to himself: “During the height of summer I stand face to face with Enlightenment; then the heavenly, the super-terrestrial streams down into the earthly world. But now the earthly is streaming upward.”—Man already perceived and experienced something of the earthly during the autumnal equinox. But what he perceived and felt then of earthly nature was in conformity in a certain sense with his own nature; it was still connected with him. We might say: “At the time of the autumn equinox man felt in his Gemuet, in his realm of feeling, all that had to do with Nature. But now, in winter, he felt as though the Earth were laying claim to him, as if he were ensnared in his will nature by the forces of the Earth. He felt this to be the denial of the moral world order. He felt that together with the blackness that enveloped him like a cloud, forces opposed to the moral world order were ensnaring him. He felt the darkness rise up out of the Earth like a serpent and wind him about. But at the same time he was also aware of something quite different.”

Already during autumn he had felt something stirring within him that we today call intellect. Whereas in summer the intellect evaporates and there enters from outside a wisdom-filled moral element, during autumn the intellect is consolidated. The human being approaches evil but his intellect consolidates. Man felt an actual serpent-like manifestation in midwinter, but at the same time the solidification, the strengthening of shrewdness, of the reflective element, of all that made him sly and cunning and incited him to follow the principle of utility in life. All this he was aware of in this way. And just as in autumn the knowledge of nature gradually emerged, so in midwinter the Temptation of Hell approached the human being, the Temptation on the part of Evil. Thus he was aware of this. So when we write here: “Moral impulse, Knowledge of Nature” (see diagram), here (at midwinter) we must write “Temptation through Evil.”

This was just the time in which man had to develop what in any case was within him by way of Nature: everything associated with the intellect, slyness, cunning, all that was directed toward the utilitarian. This, man was to overcome through Temperance (Besonnenheit).¹ This was the season then in which man had to develop—not an open sense for wisdom, which in accordance with the ancient Mystery wisdom had been required of him during the time of Enlightenment, but something else. Just in that season in which evil revealed itself as we have indicated, man could experience in a fitting way resistance to evil: he was to become self-controlled (besonnen—see preceding footnote). Above all else at the season of change which he passed through in moving on from Enlightenment to Cognition, from Knowledge of Spirit to Knowledge of Nature, he was to progress from Nature knowledge to the contemplation of Evil (see diagram, arrow on left). This is the way it was understood.

And in giving instructions to the pupils of the Mysteries which could become mottoes, the teachers said to them—just as at midsummer they had said: “Receive the Light,” and in autumn “Look around you”—now in midwinter it was said: “Beware of Evil.” And it was expected that through “Temperance,” through this guarding of oneself against evil, men would come to a kind of self-knowledge which would lead them to realize how they had deviated from the moral impulses in the course of the year.

Deviation from the moral impulses through the contemplation of evil, its overcoming through moderation—this was to come to man's consciousness just in the time following midwinter. Hence in this ancient wisdom all sorts of things were undertaken that induced men to atone for what they recognized as deviations from the moral impulses they had received through Enlightenment. With this, we approach spring, the spring equinox (see diagram).

And just as here (see diagram: midsummer, autumn, midwinter) we have Enlightenment, Cognition, Temperance, so for the spring equinox we have what was perceived as the activity of repentance. And in place of Cognition, and correspondingly, Temptation through Evil, there now entered something which we could call the Return—the reversion—to man's higher nature through Repentance. Where we have written here (see diagram: midsummer, autumn, winter): Enlightenment, Cognition, Temperance, here we must write: Return to Human Nature.

If you look back once more to what was in the depths of winter the Temptation by Evil, you will have to say: At that time man felt as though he were lowered into the abysmal deeps of the Earth; he felt himself entrapped by Earth's darkness. Just as during the height of summer man was in a sense torn out of himself, his soul-nature being then lifted up above him, so now, in order not to be ensnared by Evil during the winter, his soul-being made itself inwardly free.

Through this there existed during the depths of winter, I might say a counter-image to what was present during the height of summer. At midsummer the phenomena of Nature spoke in a spiritual way. People sought especially in the thunder and the lightning for what the heavens had to say. They looked at the phenomena of Nature, but what they sought in these phenomena was a spiritual language. Even in small things, they sought at St. John's-tide the spiritual message of the elemental beings, but they looked for it outside themselves. They dreamed in a certain sense outside the human being. During the depths of winter, however, people sank into themselves and dreamed within their own being. To the extent that they tore themselves loose from the entanglement of the Earth, that is, whenever they could free their soul-element, they dreamed within their own being. Of this there has remained what is connected with the visions, with the inner beholding, of the Thirteen Nights following the winter solstice. Everywhere recollections have remained of these ancient times. You can look on the Norwegian Song of Olaf [&Åsteson]² as a later development of what existed quite extensively in ancient times.

Then the springtime drew near. In our time the situation has shifted somewhat; in those days spring was closer to winter, and the whole year was viewed as being divided into three periods. Things were compressed. Nevertheless what I am sharing with you here was taught in its turn. Thus, just as at midsummer they said: “Receive the light;” and in autumn, at Michaelmas: “Look around you;” just as at midwinter, at the time that we celebrate Christmas, they said: “Beware of the Evil,” so for the time of return they had a saying which was then thought to have effect only at this time: “Know thyself”—placing it in exact polarity to the Knowledge of Nature.

“Beware of the Evil” could also be expressed: “Beware, draw back from Earth's darkness.” But this they did not say. Whereas during midsummer men accepted the external natural phenomenon of light as Wisdom, that is, at midsummer they spoke in a certain way in accordance with Nature, they would never have put the motto for winter into the sentence: “Beware of the darkness”—for they expressed rather the moral interpretation: “Beware of Evil.”

Echoes of these festivals have persisted everywhere, so far as they have been understood. Naturally everything was changed when the great Event of Golgotha entered in.

It was in the season of the deepest human temptation, in winter, that the birth of Jesus occurred. The birth of Jesus took place in the very time when man was in the grip of the Earth powers, when he had plunged down, as it were, into the abysses of the Earth. Among the legends associated with the birth of Jesus, you will even find one which says that Jesus came into the world in a cave, thus hinting at something that was perceived as wisdom in the most ancient Mysteries, namely, that there the human being can find what he has to seek in spite of being held fast by the dark element of the Earth, which at the same time holds the reason for his falling prey to Evil.

It is in accord with all of this, too, that the time of Repentance is ascribed to the season when spring is approaching.

The understanding for the midsummer festival has quite naturally disappeared to a still greater extent than that for the other side of the year's course. For the more materialism overtook mankind, the less people felt themselves drawn to anything such as Enlightenment.

And what is of quite special importance to present-day humanity is precisely that time which leads on from Enlightenment, of which man still remains unconscious, toward the season of autumn. Here lies the point where man, who indeed has to enter into knowledge of nature, should grasp in the nature-knowledge a picture, a reflection, of a knowledge of divine spirits. For this there is no better festival of remembrance than Michaelmas.

If this is celebrated in the right way, it must follow that mankind everywhere will take hold of the question: How is spirit knowledge to be found in the glorified nature-knowledge of the present? How can man transform nature-knowledge so that out of what the human being possesses as the fruits of this nature-knowledge, spirit knowledge will arise? In other words, how is that to be overcome which, if it were to run its course on its own, would entrap man in the subhuman?

A turnaround must take place. The Michael festival must take on a particular meaning. This meaning emerges when one can perceive the following: Natural science has led man to recognize one side of world evolution, for example, that out of lower animal organisms higher more perfect ones have evolved in the course of time, right up to man; or, to take another example, that during the development of the embryo in the mother's body the human being passes through the animal forms one after the other. That, however, is only one side. The other side is what comes before our souls when we say to ourselves: “Man had to evolve out of his original divine-human beginning.” If this (see drawing) indicates the original human condition (lighter shading), then man had to evolve out of it to his present state of unfoldment. First, he had gradually to push out of himself the lower animals, then, stage by stage what exists as higher animal forms. He overcame all this, separated it out, thrust it aside (darker shading). In this way he has come to what was originally predestined for him.

It is the same in his embryonic development. The human being rejects, each in its turn, everything that he is not to be. We do not, however, derive the real import of present-day nature-knowledge from this fact. What then is the import of modern nature-knowledge. It lies in the sentence: You behold in what nature-knowledge shows you that which you need to exclude from knowledge of man.

What does this imply? It implies that man must study natural science. Why?—When he looks into a microscope he knows what is not spirit. When he looks through a telescope into the far spaces of the universe, there is revealed to him what spirit is not. When he makes some sort of experiment in the physics or chemistry laboratory, what is not spirit is revealed to him. Everything that is not spirit is manifest to him in its pure form.

In ancient times when men beheld what is today nature, they still saw the spirit shining through it. Today we have to study nature in order to be able to say: “All that is not spirit.” It is all winter wisdom. What pertains to summer wisdom must take a different form. In order that man may be spurred toward the spirit, may get an impulse toward the spirit, he must learn to know the unspiritual, the anti-spiritual. And man must be sensible of things that no one as yet admits today. For example, everyone says today: “If I have some sort of tiny living creature too small to be seen with the naked eye and I put it under a microscope, it will be enlarged for me so that I can see it.”—Then, however, one must conceive: “This size is illusory. I have increased the size of the creature, and I no longer have it. I have a phantom. What I am seeing is not a reality. I have put a lie in place of the truth!”—This is of course madness from the present-day point of view, but it is precisely the truth.

If we will only realize that natural science is needed in order from this counter-image of the truth to receive the impulse toward the truth, then the force will be developed which can be symbolically indicated in the overcoming of the Dragon by Michael.

But something else is connected with this which already stands in the annals in what I might call a spiritual way. It stands there in such a form, however, that when man no longer had any true feeling for what lives in the year's changing seasons, he related the whole thing instead to the human being. What leads to “Enlightenment” was replaced by the concept of “Wisdom” [called “Prudence” in English practice]; then what leads to “Knowledge” was replaced by the concept of “Courage” [“Fortitude”]; “Temperance” stayed the same (see diagram 1); and what corresponded to “Repentance” was replaced by the concept “Justice.”

Here you have the four Platonic concepts of virtue: Wisdom [Prudence], Fortitude, Temperance, Justice. What man had formerly received from the life of the year in its course was now taken into man himself. It will come into consideration just in connection with the Michaelmas festival, however, that there will have to be a festival in honor of human courage, of the human manifestation of the courage of Michael. For what is it that holds man back today from spirit-knowledge?—Lack of soul courage, not to say soul cowardice. Man wants to receive everything passively, wants to set himself down in front of the world as if it were a movie, and wants to let the microscope and the telescope tell him everything. He does not want to temper the instrument of his own spirit, of his own soul, by activity. He does not care to be a follower of Michael. This requires inner courage. This inner courage must have its festival in Michaelmas. Then from the Festival of Courage, from the festival of the inwardly courageous human soul, there will ray out what will give the other festivals of the year also the right content.

We must in fact continue the path further; we must take into human nature what was formerly outside. Man is no longer in such a position that he could develop the knowledge of Nature only in autumn. It is already so that in man today things lie one within the other, for only in this way can he unfold his freedom. Yet it nevertheless holds true that the celebrating of festivals, I might say in a transformed sense, is again becoming necessary.

If the festivals were formerly festivals of giving by the divine to the earthly, if man at the festivals formerly received the gifts of the heavenly powers directly, so today, when man has his capacities within himself, the metamorphosis of the festival-thought consists in the festivals now being festivals of remembrance or admonition.*³ In them man inscribes into his soul what he is to consummate within himself.

And thus again it will be best to have as the most strongly working festival of admonition and remembrance this festival with which autumn begins, the Michaelmas festival, for at the same time all Nature is speaking in meaningful cosmic language. The trees are becoming bare; the leaves are withering. The creatures, which all summer long have fluttered through the air, as butterflies, or have filled the air with their hum, as beetles, begin to withdraw; many animals fall into their winter sleep. Everything becomes paralyzed. Nature, which through her own activity has helped man during spring and summer—Nature, which has worked in man during spring and summer, herself withdraws. Man is referred back to himself. What must now awaken when Nature forsakes him is courage of soul. Once more we are shown how what we can conceive as a Michael festival must be a festival of soul-courage, of soul-strength, of soul-activity.

This is what will gradually give to the festival thought the character of remembrance or admonition, qualities already suggested in a monumental saying by which it was indicated that for all future time what previously had been festivals of gifts will become, or should become, festivals of remembrance. These monumental words, which must be the basis of all festival thoughts, also for those which will arise again,—this monumental saying is: “This do in remembrance of Me.” That is the festival thought which is turned toward the memory-aspect.

Just as the other thought that lies in the Christ-Impulse must work on livingly, must reform itself and not be allowed simply to remain as a dead product toward which we look back, so must this thought also work on further, kindling perceptive feeling and thought, and we must understand that the festivals must continue in spite of the fact that man is changing, but that because of this the festivals also must go through metamorphoses.

• 1. The third of the cardinal or “Platonic” virtues, called in Greek Sophrosyne, in English, Temperance or moderation, in German is Besonnenheit. According to Steiner, Besonnenheit is “enfilling one's impulses with the degree of consciousness possible.” “A man who rules his impulses through reflective thinking, feeling and perceiving is a man who is ‘besonnen.’” (From Das Raetsel des Menschen, 6th August, 1916). See also Spiritual Foundation of Morality by Steiner.
• 2. Because of Rudolf Steiner's lectures referring to “The Dream Song of Olaf &Åsteson” (December 26, 1911 and January 7, 1913), this unique poem of initiation experience has been translated into English.
• 3. Feste der Erinnerungen (a plural form). Erinnerung has two shades of meaning. One is “recollection” or “remembrance”; the other “admonition” or “reminder.” Both elements seem to apply in this passage.

The conception of karma and its background given in the lecture yesterday can be deepened in many essential respects. We heard that behind human destiny there are worlds in relation to which the aspect of destiny usually observed amounts to no more than the letters of a script as compared with what is produced by the combinations of those letters in a work such as Goethe's Faust. Behind the destiny of a human being we can in very truth gaze at the life and weaving deeds of higher worlds and of the Beings belonging to those worlds. But this picture can be deepened and elaborated.—When man is passing through the Moon sphere after death, he lives in communion with the great primeval Teachers of humanity who have their abode in that sphere. Through the whole of the period between death and a new birth he is associated with human souls—particularly those with whom he is karmically connected—who have also passed through the gate of death and are living through the same period of spiritual existence. In the Moon sphere man lives in communion with the Beings we know as the Angeloi, Arch-angeloi and Archai, and as he passes through the following planetary spheres, with higher and ever higher Beings. It is not really correct to make demarcations and assign one particular Hierarchy to each heavenly sphere, for this is not in accord with reality. But in a general sense it can be said that the Archai, Archangeloi and Angeloi enter into communion with us before we pass into the Sun sphere; in that sphere we find our way into what has to be accomplished between death and a new birth in cooperation with the Hierarchy of the Exousiai, Dynamis, Kyriotetes. And then we gradually live on into the realms of the Thrones, Cherubim and Seraphim as we approach the Mars sphere and the Jupiter sphere. It is not correct to say that one Hierarchy corresponds only to one particular planetary sphere; but there is something else that will have important bearings when we come to study karmic relationships in greater detail.

It will, however, be necessary to familiarise ourselves with a conception which, to begin with, will seem strange and perplexing to ordinary thinking. As we stand on the Earth and feel our way into existence, we conceive of the Earthly as being immediately around us, on, under, and a little above the surface of the Earth in the environment, and when our minds turn to the so-called super-Earthly, our gaze is instinctively directed upwards. We feel the super-Earthly to be above us. Strange as it seems, it is true nevertheless, that when we ourselves are within those super-Earthly realms to which we look upwards from the Earth, when we are actually within them, the opposite holds good; for then we look downwards to the Earthly—which now lies below. In a certain sense we do so through the whole of our existence between death and a new birth. The question will occur to you: Is our experience of earthly things during physical existence so inadequate that between death and rebirth we have to look down from those super-earthly spheres to the Earth as a kind of nether heaven below us? ... But something else must be remembered here. The vista of all that we behold around us and in the cosmic expanse while we live on Earth between birth and death in a physical body enclosed by the skin, this vista is majestic and splendid; it refreshes and delights us, or it may bring tragedy and pain. At any rate it is a vista of rich and abundant life and a man might well believe that in comparison with the majesty of the world of stars, with everything that is revealed to him as his outer world, what is enclosed within his skin during physical existence is puny and insignificant. But the vista before us in our life between death and a new birth is entirely different. All that was our outer world during life on Earth now becomes our inner world. We feel ourselves expanding ever more and more into the cosmic spheres. What is there experienced may be described in earthly language in somewhat the following way.

Here on Earth we say, ‘my heart’—meaning something that is inside our skin. Between death and a new birth we do not say, ‘my heart,’ but ‘my Sun.’ For at a certain stage between death and rebirth, when our being has expanded into the Universe, the Sun is within us just as here on Earth the heart is within us—and the same applies in a spiritual sense to the rest of the starry worlds as I have described. Conversely, what was enclosed within our skin on Earth now becomes our outer world. But do not imagine that it bears any resemblance to what an anatomist sees when he dissects a corpse. The spectacle is even grander and more majestic than the panorama of the Universe presented to us on Earth. From the vantage-point of our life between death and a new birth, a whole world is revealed in what the physical senses perceive merely as heart, lung, liver, and so forth; it is a world greater and more impressive than the outer Universe at which we gaze during life on Earth.

Another singular fact is the following.—You may say: ‘Yes, but as this world is present in every human being, everyone who dies must carry a separate world within him through death, and this suggests that the worlds to be perceived in the after-death existence greatly outnumber the individuals with whom one actually comes in contact there ...’ The secret lies in the fact that, firstly, all those human beings with whom we have some karmic tie are seen as a unity, as one world. Then there are the other souls who also form a unified, though less defined whole: this host of souls is linked with those with whom we have actual karmic ties, and again there is a unified whole. The moment we pass from the physical world into the spiritual world, everything is different. A great deal that has to be said will seem paradoxical to those unaccustomed to such conceptions but it is necessary now and again to draw attention to the conditions prevailing in the spiritual world as revealed to Initiation-wisdom. In the physical world we can count: one, two, three ... we can also count money—although perhaps not just at the present time!—but counting does not really mean anything in the spiritual world. Number has no particular significance there; everything is more or less a unity. If things are to be counted they must be distinct and separate from each other and this does not apply in the spiritual world. In describing the spiritual world and the physical world, quite different terms have to be used in each case. From the vantage-point of the spiritual world, that which in the physical world is within man, presents a very different appearance. Man's structure is even more splendid, more awe-inspiring than the structure of the Heavens as perceived from the Earth. And what we prepare in communion with the higher Hierarchies for the incarnation that will follow the life between death and a new birth must be an entelechy of soul-and-spirit that befits this human structure, permeates it, gives it life.

How does the life of a human being develop on Earth? When we are born from pre-earthly existence into earthly life, the whole physical body has, apparently, been provided by our parents. It may seem as though having come down from the super-sensible world we unite in a purely external way with what has been prepared for us in the physical world by our parents and has developed in the mother's body. What happens in reality, however, is the following.—

The substance of the physical body is constantly changing; it is all the time being thrown off and replaced. Think only of your finger-nails and your hair. You cut your finger-nails and they grow again. But this is only a process that is externally perceptible; in reality, man is all the time throwing off matter and replacing it from within, from the inner centre of his being. Substance is perpetually scaling off and in seven or eight years time all the physical substance that was within us seven years previously has been thrown off and replaced by new. Just think of this.—Seven years ago I was able, to my great joy, to lecture to friends here in Breslau. There they were, sitting on chairs in front of me; but nothing remains to-day of the physical substance contained in those bodies; it has all vanished and been replaced by other physical substance. What has remained in each case is the individuality of spirit-and-soul. The individuality was present before birth, in pre-earthly existence, in earlier earthly lives too, and has remained. But the substance of the bodies sitting in the chairs seven years ago has long since passed away into other regions of the Universe. Now this exchange of substance begins at birth and is complete after the lapse of seven years or so. What our parents provide is the substance and its particular organisation up to the time of the change of teeth. Thereafter the task of moulding the substance is taken over by the individuality. The change of teeth is a process of great significance. Until that time we have received from our parents a model, this model resembles our parents, embodies the hereditary traits. Then, in accordance with this model, the individuality of spirit-and-soul slowly builds up the second body which exists from the time of the change of teeth to the onset of puberty, is then cast off, and the third body begins to develop. Hereditary traits which remain in us are due to the fact that in the second body we have copied them from the model. What is copied from the model at a later stage is adapted and elaborated by the unconscious faculty, acquired in pre-earthly existence, to mould the human organism in accordance with the secrets it contains. The purpose of the first body which we bear until the time of the change of teeth is to enable us, in conformity with our karma, to resemble our parents. The real secrets, the deep, all-embracing secrets whereby the human organism is built up as the wonderful image of the outer structure of the Heavens—these secrets in their innermost essence have to be acquired during the life between death and a new birth.

Having lived through the first half of the Sun-existence we have to find our way into the second half, where the impulse to live out our karma is kindled. Here again a vista lies before us of wonderful happenings which take place between ourselves and the Beings of the higher Hierarchies.

Here on Earth we live and move among minerals, plants, animals, other human beings; between death and a new birth we live together with other human souls in the way described—but now, instead of minerals, plants, animals, there are the Archai, Archangeloi, Angeloi, and together with them we shape our karma. Through the whole of the time we gaze at the earthly realm below where our karma must take effect, gaze at it longingly, as something to which all our forces of feeling are directed,—just as here on Earth between birth and death we gaze upwards with longing to the Heavens. In ascending to the Moon sphere, Mercury sphere, Venus sphere, we find our way to the Beings of the Hierarchy of Archai, Archangeloi and Angeloi. These Beings are the judges of what is good and evil in us, also of the mutilation we undergo, as I described in the previous lecture. For the consequence of unrighteousness is that we suffer a kind of mutilation as beings of soul and spirit. There, in these higher spheres, we have our judges, we are involved in the operations of Cosmic Justice.—In the Sun-existence we reach the sphere of the Exousiai, Dynamis, Kyriotetes. We are now within the ranks of Beings who do not only judge but actually work with us at the shaping of our karma. These Beings—Exousiai, Dynamis, Kyriotetes—are primarily denizens of the Sun, and therewith of the whole Universe. They belong essentially to spiritual worlds. But mediators are necessary between the spiritual world and the material, physical world, and these mediators are the Thrones, Cherubim and Seraphim. Their rank in the spiritual Cosmos is higher because they are mightier Beings—mightier not merely in the realm of spiritual life but because they bring to effect in the physical world what is thus lived through in the spiritual worlds. In the life between death and a new birth we gaze consciously and with longing at the earthly realm below, but in reality we are gazing at what is proceeding among the Seraphim, Cherubim and Thrones, in their mutual connections with one another. It is a shattering, awe-inspiring experience. We learn, gradually, to understand the deeds performed between Seraphim and Seraphim, Cherubim and Cherubim, Thrones and Thrones, and again between Thrones and Seraphim, Thrones and Cherubim, and so forth. These Beings are engaged in bringing about a process of adjustment which, as we learn to understand it, we feel has something to do with ourselves. What is it, in reality? It is the image that arises in cosmic existence from the good and the evil for which we were responsible in our earthly life. The good must result in good; the evil must result in evil. Seraphim, Cherubim and Thrones elaborate the consequences of what we have sown on Earth; our evil deeds have injurious consequences, in cosmic existence. We witness how Seraphim, Cherubim and Thrones are occupied with the consequences of our evil deeds. And the knowledge gradually dawns upon us that in what comes to pass in cosmic evolution among the Seraphim, Cherubim and Thrones, our karma is being lived out in the Heavens before we can live it out on Earth. This awe-inspiring experience is enhanced inasmuch as we now realise with all the force we possess in this spiritual life between death and a new birth, that what the Seraphim, Cherubim and Thrones experience in their divine existence finds its just fulfilment when we ourselves experience it in the next earthly life. Thus in super-earthly realms our karma is lived through in advance by the Seraphim, Cherubim and Thrones. In very truth the Gods are the Creators of the Earthly. They live through everything in advance, in the realm of spirit; then in the physical realm it comes to fulfilment. Our karma is prefigured by the Seraphim, Cherubim and Thrones in their divine existence. Thus are the forces which shape our karma set in operation.

During existence in the planetary spheres we experience the deeds, the judgements, of the Archai, Archangeloi, Angeloi. But Seraphim, Cherubim and Thrones are also at work, in order that they may live through our karma in advance. Thus are we made aware of the debt we owe to the world on account of our previous deeds, thus do we experience the divine foreshadowing of what our life is to be. These experiences are complex and intricate, but they are part and parcel of that super-earthly existence upon which earthly life is based.

Not until we realise how rich in content is the life between death and a new birth and think of this in conjunction with the happenings of earthly life do we obtain a really adequate conception of what comes to pass in the world through man and in man. Thus is self-knowledge deepened, enriched and spiritualised. The only way whereby we can obtain a true picture of the earthly life of humanity is to view it against the background of happenings in the spiritual world.

We see human beings appearing on the Earth; they are born, grow up, are creative or active according to their destiny and the particular faculties they possess. The historical life of humanity through the ages is, after all, the outcome of human faculties, human deeds, human thoughts and feelings. But all these human beings who appear in an earthly life between birth and death—all of them have passed through previous lives in which they experienced the Earthly in a different way, worked upon it in a different way. The influences of earlier lives make themselves felt in all later lives, but it is only possible to understand the sequence of connections by taking account, too, of the periods lying between death and rebirth. Then, for the first time, we have a true conception of history, for we realise that what appears on the Earth through human beings in one epoch is linked with the happenings of an earlier epoch. But the essential question is: How are the fruits and happenings of an earlier epoch carried over into later times?—Historians have long been content to record consecutive facts but from data of this kind it is impossible to understand why later events follow those that preceded them. Some have said that ideas are at work in history and then become actuality. But no genuine thinker can conceive why this should be so. Others—those who hold the materialistic view of history—say: Ideas—so much twaddle! Economic factors are the only reality, they lie at the root of everything!—Such is the materialistic, mechanistic conception of history.

But this is no more than a dabbling on the surface of things. The reality is that what came to pass in earlier epochs of history is carried over into later epochs by human beings themselves. All those who are sitting here now lived in earlier epochs. Their deeds and manner of acting are the consequences of what they experienced in earlier lives. And so it is with everything that comes to pass in the course of history, be it of importance or of little account. The earlier is carried over into the later by human souls themselves. The conception of life prevailing nowadays can be deepened in the true sense only by the realisation that historical evolution too is borne onwards by man himself. But everything is determined by what is achieved in the starry worlds between death and rebirth where man works in cooperation with the Beings of the higher Hierarchies.

And now let us take an example to illustrate what has been said. In comparatively early times, not long before the founding of Christianity, a certain Initiate was incarnated in the East, in the Indian civilisation. In his earthly life this individuality had poor eyesight—in describing karmic relationships one must go into details of this kind—and his perceptions remained more or less superficial. This life which was characterised by the mystical outlook typical of Indian culture, was followed by other, less important incarnations. But there was a life between death and a new birth during which the superficial experiences of the Indian incarnation were worked upon in the Mercury sphere, partly too in the Venus sphere and in the Mars sphere, in conjunction with Beings of the higher Hierarchies. In the majority of human beings the influences of one of the cosmic spheres are dominant in the shaping of the karma, but in the case of this particular individuality the influences of the Mercury sphere, the Venus sphere and the Mars sphere worked with almost equal strength at the karmic transformation of incipient faculties arising from the experiences of an Indian incarnation. In the nineteenth century this individuality appeared again as a somewhat complex personality, namely, Heinrich Heine.

Let us think about an example such as this which has been brought to light from the depths of spiritual life by very penetrating and exact investigation. A rigid, superficial thinker will argue that this tends to take away the whole atmosphere and quality of the personality, that what he wants is a picture of the elementary characteristics of the man in question ... well, he has every right to take this attitude if he chooses; it is his karma to be a philistine and he has the right to speak in this way ... but he will not succeed in reaching more than a fragment of the truth. When we look more deeply into the facts, the foundations and the background of the reality come to light. The life of an individual is certainly not impoverished but infinitely enriched in meaning when it is studied in the light of such foundations, when we can perceive the experiences of an earlier, Indian incarnation glimmering through that problematic, fitful Heine-life. Having absorbed the influences operating in the Mercury sphere and the Venus sphere, this individuality passed into the Mars sphere, where a certain strain of aggressiveness developed for the next earthly life; the experiences of an earlier life were transformed into a faculty in which there was a certain vein of aggressiveness. In the Mercury sphere the soul acquired the tendency to flit from one experience to another, one concept to another, and in the Venus sphere an element of eroticism—eroticism in the spiritual sense—crept into the imaginative, conceptual faculties.

In surveying a human life in this way we gaze into cosmic existence, and what we thus perceive is certainly not poorer in content than the commonplace picture of a man's elementary characteristics desired by superficial observers. We perceive how earlier history is carried over into later history through the instrumentality of the starry worlds and the Beings of those worlds. History becomes reality only when it is viewed in this setting; otherwise it remains so many disjointed ciphers. But now we begin to read from history how behind the individual destinies of men there are the deeds of Gods and of worlds which become manifest in ever greater grandeur and power in the process of the historical evolution of humanity—where we shall always discern the weaving of the destinies and the thoughts of individuals.

And now, another example.—There is an individuality who at the time when Islam was spreading across North Africa to Spain, had acquired much scholarship according to the standards then prevailing. Schools similar to that in which St. Augustine had received instruction still existed in North Africa, but now, in a later period, the School had fallen into decline. This individuality imbibed a great deal of the knowledge that had been preserved in these Schools in which much wisdom deriving from the ancient Mysteries still survived, although in a decadent form. Then his path took him to Spain where he came in contact with the earlier—not the later—Cabbalistic School, acquired much of this earlier Cabbalistic learning and thus became thoroughly versed in Manichean-Cabbalistic doctrine. In the course of further development during a life between death and a new birth, a certain strain of aggressiveness was acquired and, in addition, a talent which had something rather dangerously fascinating about it, namely, fluency of speech and language in dealing with all kinds of problems which arose in the soul from the earlier incarnation. With these characteristics the individuality in question was born again in the eighteenth century as Voltaire.

To know that the Voltaire-life leads back to experiences akin to those of St. Augustine in his early days, experiences which were associated with the Cabbalistic School and hence with all the irony peculiar to Cabbalistic learning, to know that all these elements play a part and, by penetrating into what happened during life between death and rebirth, to perceive the connection between the two lives—this alone can lead to a picture of the whole reality. At first sight there seems to be no connection between successive earthly lives; we do not perceive how the one reaches over into the other. The intervening periods are not perceived but for all that they are fragments of the whole picture in which everything is embraced. It is only by studying the spiritual background as well as the earthly nature of a man that we can hope to approach reality.

In this connection a new trend must take effect on our Movement, from now onwards. When the German Section of the Theosophical Society was founded in Berlin in 1902, I gave as the title of my first lecture: Studies of the concrete working of Karma. The lecture was announced but could not be delivered for the simple reason that the older members of the Theosophical Society had their own ideas of what may or may not be spoken about, and this attitude had determined the whole atmosphere. The leading Members would have been horrified if at that time one had spoken of the concrete workings of karma. The Theosophical Movement was not ready for it. A great deal of preparation was necessary and has, in fact, been going on now for more than two decades. But at the Christmas Foundation Meeting the impulse was given to speak without reserve, not only about the Spiritual in general but also about what can be discovered concerning man's life in the realm of spirit. And so in future we shall speak quite openly in the Anthroposophical Society of matters of which from the very beginning it was the intention to speak, but for which preparation had to be made. This is part of the esoteric trend and impulse with which the Anthroposophical Society was imbued through the Christmas Foundation Meeting. The Christmas Meeting was no trifling episode; it betokened the assumption of new responsibilities for the Anthroposophical Movement, responsibilities flowing from the realm of spirit.

To be able to gaze at what takes place between death and a new birth brings home to one the rich diversity and many-sidedness of the world. For when it is said that the qualities of aggressiveness and also of fluency of language are quickened in the Mars sphere, this is only one aspect; other aspects of life too are quickened in that sphere. And the same applies to the Jupiter sphere. The Jupiter sphere and its Beings are experienced when in the process of self-observation one looks back with the insight of Initiation over the period between the forty-ninth and fifty-sixth years of life—and then obliterates the pictures. The vista of the Jupiter sphere may be a shattering experience, for the Beings of Jupiter are utterly different from human beings. Think of a quality which is sometimes more and sometimes less in evidence, namely the quality of wisdom. Men insist that they are wise ... but what a struggle it is for them to acquire wisdom! The tiniest fragment of wisdom in any field is difficult to attain and demands inner effort. Nothing of the kind is necessary for the Jupiter Beings. Wisdom is an integral part of their very nature—I cannot say it is ‘born’ in them, for the Jupiter Beings do not come into existence through an embryo as men do on Earth. You must picture to yourselves that there is something around Jupiter like the cloud-masses around the Earth. If you were now to imagine bodies of men forming out of the clouds and flying down to the Earth, that would be a picture of how the new Beings come forth from a kind of cloud-mass on Jupiter; but these Beings have wisdom as an original, intrinsic characteristic. Just as we have circulating blood, so they have wisdom. But their wisdom is not a merited reward, nor has it been acquired by effort; they have it by nature. Therefore their thinking, too, is utterly different from the thinking of men. The experience is shattering, overwhelming, but we must gradually get accustomed to the idea. Just as we on Earth are pervaded by air, so everything on Jupiter is pervaded by wisdom. Wisdom there has substantiality, streams in the atmosphere, discharges itself like rain on Jupiter, rises like mist to the heights. But Beings are there—Beings who ascend in a cloud, a mist of wisdom. Herein live the Cherubim, who in this realm of existence gather up and give shape to the karma of human beings. Other impulses too are in operation, but what holds good unconditionally is that the experiences of an earlier incarnation are gathered together and moulded into shape by the forces of the self-subsisting wisdom of the Jupiter sphere. Then, when the individuality comes down again to incarnation on the Earth, he bears the stamp arising from the re-shaping of his earlier experiences by wisdom which ultimately takes effect in very diverse forms.—Again we will take an example.

There is an individuality who leads us back to ancient Greece, into a milieu of Platonism, and also of sculpture. This individuality had a very significant incarnation as a sculptor in Greece. What he there experienced was carried over into intermediate incarnations of less importance. This is an individuality whose karma for what is at the moment his latest incarnation was elaborated chiefly in the sphere of the Jupiter wisdom.

Another individuality takes us back to Central America, to Mexico, in times before European people had migrated to America. He was connected with the then declining Mysteries of the early, original inhabitants of Mexico and came into contact with the Mexican deities at a time when the pupils of the Mysteries still had real and living intercourse with these spiritual Beings. This was karma of a special—not a particularly favourable—kind. These Gods—Quetzalcoatl, Tetzkatlipoka, Taotl—are still mentioned by scholars to-day but hardly more than by name. The individuality of whom I am speaking was closely connected with those Mysteries which, in spite of their decadence, enabled a God such as Taotl or Quetzalcoatl to be a living reality to him. There, in those declining Mysteries, he became thoroughly versed in the magic arts—arts which were already rife with superstition—and a Being like Tetzkatlipoka was a vivid reality to him. Tetzkatlipoka was a kind of Serpent God with whom men felt themselves astrally connected. Unlike the other individuality whose life as a man in Greece was followed by female incarnations, this individuality had no intermediate incarnation. He lived as a man within the Mexican Mysteries, passed through the sphere of the Jupiter-wisdom in his life between death and a new birth and then incarnated in the eighteenth/nineteenth century. The other individuality who had lived in Greece also passed through the Jupiter sphere in the way that is possible for one who had been a sculptor and had unfolded the faculty of creative imagination which was still so potent a force in Greece. This was transformed and re-cast in the Jupiter sphere where the wisdom underlying the Greek talent for plastic representation of the human form, for pictorial conceptions of the world, is present in its very essence, and the individuality came down into a body with a strongly Grecian bent of mind that had been elaborated in the Jupiter sphere, being reborn as Goethe.

The other individuality also passed through the Jupiter sphere, where his experiences in the Mexican Mysteries were cast into a new form. But the Jupiter sphere could not produce identical results from an earthly life in Greece and an earthly life in Mexico of the kinds I have described. Both sets of experience were worked upon by the wisdom of the Jupiter sphere but both were conditioned by the formative forces that had been in operation in earlier lives. The individuality who had been connected with the Mexican Mysteries lived through the Jupiter sphere and was reborn as Eliphas Levi. There you have an example of how magic practices, magic rites and enactments have been transformed in a remarkable way into wisdom. It is Jupiter-karma of an inferior kind, but for all that replete with spirituality, replete with wisdom. From this we perceive how what a man has experienced in earthly life works into what he becomes during his life between death and a new birth. The later life is invariably conditioned by the earlier life. But the experiences of earthly life can be transformed by the selfsame sphere into very different karma. Our view of human life can only be deepened in the right way when we perceive how this life is shaped in conformity with karma. Then it is enriched, then and only then do we acquire a real knowledge of man and of human life.

The first question is as follows:

What is the real difference between multiplication and division in this method of teaching? Or should there be no difference at all in the first school year

The question probably arises from my statement that in multiplication the so-called multiplicand (one factor) and the product are given, and the other factor has to be found. Of course this really gives what is usually regarded as division. If we do not keep too strictly to words, then on the same basis we can consider division, as follows:

We can say: if a whole is divided in a certain way, what is the amount of the part? And you have only another conception of the same thing as in the question: By what must a number be multiplied in order to get a certain other number?

Thus, if our question refers to dividing into parts, we have to do with a division: but if we regard it from the standpoint of “how many times ...” then we are dealing with a multiplication. And it is precisely the inner relationship in thought which exists between multiplication and division which here appears most clearly.

But quite early on it should be pointed out to the child that it is possible to think of division in two ways. One is that which I have just indicated; here we examine how large each part is if we separate a whole into a definite number of parts. Here I proceed from the whole to find the part: that is one kind of division. In the other kind of division I start from the part, and find out how often the part is contained in the whole: then the division is not a separation into parts, but a measurement. The child should be taught this difference between separation into parts and measurement as soon as possible, but without using pedantic terminology. Then division and multiplication will soon cease to be something in the nature of merely formal calculation, as it very often is, and will become connected with life.

So in the first school years it is really only in the method of expression that you can make a difference between multiplication and division; but you must be sure to point out that this difference is fundamentally much smaller than the difference between subtraction and addition. It is very important that the child should learn such things.

Thus we cannot say that no difference at all should be made between multiplication and division in the first school years, but it should be done in the way I have just indicated.

At what age and in what manner should we make the transition from the concrete to the abstract in Arithmetic?

At first one should endeavour to keep entirely to the concrete in Arithmetic, and above all avoid abstractions before the child comes to the turning point of the ninth and tenth years. Up to this time keep to the concrete as far as ever possible, by connecting everything directly with life.

When we have done that for two or two-and-a-half years and have really seen to it that calculations are not made with abstract numbers, but with concrete facts presented in the form of sums, then we shall see that the transition from the concrete to the abstract in Arithmetic is extraordinarily easy. For in this method of dealing with numbers they become so alive in the child that one can easily pass on to the abstract treatment of addition, subtraction, and so on.

It will be a question, then, of postponing the transition from the concrete to the abstract, as far as possible, until the time between the ninth and tenth years of which I have spoken.

One thing that can help you in this transition from the abstract to the concrete is just that kind of Arithmetic which one uses most in real life, namely the spending of money; and here you are more favourably placed than we are on the Continent, for there we have the decimal system for everything. Here, with your money, you still have a more pleasing system than this. I hope you find it so, because then you have a right and healthy feeling for it. The soundest, most healthy basis for a money system is that it should be as concrete as possible. Here you still count according to the twelve and twenty system which we have already “outgrown,” as they say, on the Continent. I expect you already have the decimal system for measurements? (The answer was given that we do not use it for everyday purposes, but only in science.) Well, here too, you have the pleasanter system of measures! These are things which really keep everything to the concrete. Only in notation do you have the decimal system.

What is the basis of this decimal system? It is based on the fact that originally we really had a natural measurement. I have told you that number is not formed by the head, but by the whole body. The head only reflects number, and it is natural that we should actually have ten, or twenty at the highest, as numbers. Now we have the number ten in particular, because we have ten fingers. The only numbers we write are from one to ten: after that we begin once more to treat the numbers themselves as concrete things.

Let us just write, for example: 2 donkeys. Here the donkey is the concrete thing, and 2 is the number. I might just as well say: 2 dogs. But if you write 20, that is nothing more than 2 times 10. Here the 10 is treated as a concrete thing. And so our system of numeration rests upon the fact that when the thing becomes too involved, and we no longer see it clearly, then we begin to treat the number itself as something concrete, and then make it abstract again. We should make no progress in calculation unless we treated the number I itself, no matter what it is, as a concrete thing, and afterwards made it abstract. 100 is really only 10 times 10. Now, whether I have 10 times 10, and treat it as 100, or whether I have 10 times 10 dogs, it is really the same. In the one case the dogs, and in the other the 10 is the concrete thing. The real secret of calculation is that the number itself is treated as something concrete. And if you think this out you will find that a transition also takes place in life itself. We speak of 2 twelves—2 dozen—in exactly the same way as we speak of 2 tens, only we have no alternative like “dozen” for the ten because the decimal system has been conceived under the influence of abstraction. All other systems still have much more concrete conceptions of a quantity: a dozen: a shilling. How much is a shilling? Here, in England, a shilling is 12 pennies. But in my childhood we had a “shilling” which was divided into 30 units, but not monetary units. In the village in I which I lived for a long time, there were houses along the village street on both sides of the way. There were walnut trees everywhere in front of the houses, and in the autumn the boys knocked down the nuts and stored them for the winter. And when they came to school they would boast about it. One would say: “I've got five shillings already,” and another: “I have ten shillings of nuts.” They were speaking of concrete things. A shilling always meant 30 nuts. The farmers' only concern was to gather the nuts early, before all the trees were already stripped! “A nut-shilling” we used to say: that was a unit. To sell these nuts was a right: it was done quite openly.

And so, by using these numbers with concrete things—one dozen, two dozen, one pair, two pair, etc., the transition from the concrete to the abstract can be made. We do not say: “four gloves,” but: “Two pairs of gloves;” not: “Four shoes,” but “two pairs of shoes.” Using this method we can make the transition from concrete to abstract as a gradual preparation for the time between the ninth and tenth years when abstract number as such can be presented.¹

When and how should drawing be taught?

With regard to the teaching of drawing, it is really a question of viewing the matter artistically. You must remember that drawing is a sort of untruth. What does drawing mean? It means representing something by lines, but in the real world there is no such thing as a line. In the real world there is, for example, the sea. It is represented by colour (green); above it is the sky, also represented by colour (blue). If these colours are brought together you have the sea below and

the sky above (see sketch). The line forms itself at the boundary between the two colours. To say that here (horizontal line) the sky is bounded by the sea, is really a very abstract statement. So from the artistic point of view one feels that the reality should be represented in colour, or else, if you like, in light and shade. What is actually there when I draw a face? Does such a thing as this really exist? (The outline of a face

is drawn.) Is there anything of that sort? Nothing of the kind exists at all. What does exist is this: (see shaded drawing). There are certain surfaces in light and shade, and out of these a face appears. To bring lines into it, and form a face from them, is really an untruth: there is no such thing as this.

An artistic feeling will prompt you to work out what is really there out of black and white or colour. Lines will then appear of themselves. Only when one traces the boundaries which arise in the light and shade or in the colour do the “drawing lines” appear.

Therefore instruction in drawing must, in any case, not start from drawing itself but from painting, working in colour or in light and shade. And the teaching of drawing, as such, is only of real value when it is carried out in full awareness that it gives us nothing real. A terrible amount of mischief has been wrought in our whole method of thinking by the importance attached to drawing. From this has arisen all that we find in optics, for example, where people are eternally drawing lines which are supposed to be rays of light. Where can we really find these rays of light? They are nowhere to be found. What you have in reality is pictures. You make a hole in a wall; the sun shines through it and on a screen an image is formed. The rays can perhaps be seen, if at all, in the particles of dust in the room—and the dustier the room, the more you can see of them. But what is usually drawn as lines in this connection is only imagined. Everything, really, that is drawn, has been thought out. And it is only when you begin to teach the child something like perspective, in which you already have to do with the abstract method of explanation that you can begin to represent aligning and sighting by lines.

But the worst thing you can do is to teach the child to draw a horse or a dog with lines. He should take a paint brush and make a painting of the dog, but never a drawing. The outline of the dog does not exist at all: where is it? It is, of course, produced of itself if we put on paper what is really there.

We are now finding that there are not only children but also teachers who would like to join our school. There may well be many teachers in the outer world who would be glad to teach in the Waldorf School, because they would like it better there. I have had really quite a number of people coming to me recently and describing the manner in which they have been prepared for the teaching profession in the training colleges. One gets a slight shock in the case of the teachers of History, Languages, etc., but worst of all are the Drawing teachers, for they are carrying on a craft which has no connection whatever with artistic feeling: such feeling simply does not exist.

And the result is (I am mentioning no names, so I can speak freely) that one can scarcely converse with the Drawing teachers: they are such dried-up, such terribly “un-human” people. They have no idea at all of reality. By taking up drawing as a profession they have lost touch with all reality. It is terrible to try to talk to them, quite apart from the fact that they want to teach drawing in the Waldorf School, where we have not introduced drawing at all. But the mentality of these people who carry on the unreal craft of drawing is also quite remarkable. And they have no moisture on the tongue—their tongues are quite dry. It is tragic to see what these drawing teachers gradually turn into, simply because of having to do something which is completely unreal.

I will therefore answer this question by saying that where-ever possible you should start from painting and not from drawing. That is the important thing.

I will explain this matter more clearly, so that there shall be no misunderstanding. You might otherwise think I had something personal against drawing teachers. I would like to put it thus: here is a group of children. I show them that the sun is shining in from this side. The sun falls upon something and makes all kinds of light, (see sketch). Light is shed upon everything. I can see bright patches. It is because the sun is shining in that I can see the bright patches everywhere. But above them I see no bright patches, only darkness (blue). But I also see darkness here, below the bright patches: there will perhaps be just a little light here. Then I look at something which, when the light falls on it in this way, looks greenish in colour. Here, where the light falls, it is whitish, but then, before the really black shadow occurs, I see a greenish colour; and here, under the black shadow, it is also greenish, and there are other curious things to be seen in between the two. Here the light does not go right in.

You see, I have spoken of light and shadow, and of how there is something here on which the light does not impinge: and lo, I have made a tree! I have only spoken about light and colour, and I have made a tree. We cannot really paint the tree: we can only bring in light and shade, and green, or,

a little yellow, if you like, if the fruit happens to be lovely apples. But we must speak of colour and light and shade; and so indeed we shall be speaking only of what is really there—colour, light and shade. Drawing should only be done in Geometry and all that is connected with that. There we have to do with lines, something which is worked out in thought. But realities, concrete realities must not be drawn with a pen; a tree, for example, must be evolved out of light and shade and out of the colours, for this is the reality of life itself.²

It would be barbarous if an orthodox drawing teacher came and had this tree, which we have drawn here in shaded colours, copied in lines. In reality there are just light patches and dark patches. Nature does that. If lines were drawn here, it would be an untruth.

Should the direct method, without translation, be used, even for Latin and Greek?

In this respect a special exception must be made with regard to Latin and Greek. It is not necessary to connect these directly with practical life, for they are no longer alive, and we have them with us only as dead languages. Now Greek and Latin (for Greek should actually precede Latin in teaching) can only be taught when the children are somewhat older, and therefore the translation method for these languages is, in a certain way, fully justified.

There is no question of our having to converse in Latin and Greek, but our aim is to understand the ancient authors. We use these languages first and foremost for the purposes of translation. And thus it is that we do not use the same methods for the teaching of Latin and Greek as those which we employ with all living languages.

Now once more comes the question that is put to me whenever I am anywhere in England where education is being discussed:

How should instruction in Gymnastics be carried out, and should Sports be taught in an English school, hockey and cricket, for example, and if so in what way?

It is emphatically not the aim of the Waldorf School Method to suppress these things. They have their place simply because they play a great part in English life, and the child should grow up into life. Only please do not fall a prey to the illusion that there is any other meaning in it than this, namely, that we ought not to make the child a stranger to his world. To believe that sport is of tremendous value in development is an error. It is not of great value in development. Its only value is that it is a fashion dear to the English people, and we must not make the child a stranger to the world by excluding him from all popular usages. You like sport in England, so the child should be introduced to sport. One should not meet with philistine opposition what may possibly be philistine itself.

With regard to “how it should really be taught,” there is very little indeed to be said. For in these things it is really more or less so that someone does them first, and then the child imitates him. And to devise special artificial methods here would be something scarcely appropriate to the subject.

In Drill or Gymnastics one simply learns from anatomy and physiology in what position any limb of the organism must be placed in order that it may serve the agility of the body. It is a question of really having a sense for what renders the organism skilled, light and supple; and when one has this sense, one has then simply to demonstrate. Suppose you have a horizontal bar: it is customary to perform all kinds of exercises on the bar except the most valuable one of all, which consists in hanging on to the bar, hooked on, like this ... then swinging sideways, and then grasping the bar further up, then swinging back, then grasping the bar again. There is no jumping but you hang from the bar, fly through the air, make the various movements, grasp the bar thus, and thus, and so an alternation in the shape and position of the muscles of the arms is produced which actually has a healthy effect upon the whole body.

You must study which inner movements of the muscles have a healthy effect on the organism, so that you will know what movements to teach. Then you have only to do the exercises in front of the children, for the method consists simply in this preliminary demonstration.³

How should religious instruction be given at the different ages?

As I always speak from the standpoint of practical life, I have to say that the Waldorf School Method is a method of education and is not meant to bring into the school a philosophy of life or anything sectarian. Therefore I can only speak of what lives within the Waldorf School principle itself.

It was comparatively easy for us in Württemberg, where the laws of education were still quite liberal: when the Waldorf School was established we were really shown great consideration by the authorities. It was even possible for me to insist that I myself should appoint the teachers without regard to their having passed any State examination or not. I do not mean that everyone who has passed a State examination is unsuitable as a teacher! I would not say that. But still, I could see nothing in a State examination that would necessarily qualify a person to become a teacher in the Waldorf School.

And in this respect things have really always gone quite well. But one thing was necessary when we were establishing the school, and that was for us definitely to take this standpoint: We have a “Method-School”; we do not interfere with social life as it is at present, but through Anthroposophy we find the best method of teaching, and the School is purely a “Method-School.”

Therefore I arranged, from the outset, that religious instruction should not be included in our school syllabus, but that Catholic religious teaching should be delegated to the Catholic priest, and the Protestant teaching to the pastor and so on.

In the first few years most of our scholars came from a factory (the Waldorf-Astoria Cigarette Factory), and amongst them we had many “dissenting” children, children whose parents were of no religion. But our educational conscience of course demanded that a certain kind of religious instruction should be given them also. We therefore arranged a “free religious teaching” for these children, and for this we have a special method.

In these “free Religion lessons” we first of all teach gratitude in the contemplation of everything in Nature. Whereas in the telling of legends and myths we simply relate what things do—stones, plants and so on—here in the Religion lessons we lead the child to perceive the Divine in all things. So we begin with a kind of “religious naturalism,” shall I say, in a form suited to the children.

Again, the child cannot be brought to anunderstanding of the Gospels before the time between the ninth and tenth years of which I have spoken. Only then can we proceed to a consideration of the Gospels in the Religion lessons, going on later to the Old Testament. Up to this time we can only introduce to the children a kind of Nature-religion in its general aspect, and for this we have our own method. Then we should go on to the Gospels but not before the ninth or tenth year, and only much later, between the twelfth and thirteenth years, we should proceed to the Old Testament.⁴

This then is how you should think of the free Religion lessons. We are not concerned with the Catholic and Protestant instruction: we must leave that to the Catholic and Protestant pastors. Also every Sunday we have a special form of service for those who attend the free Religion lessons. A service is performed and forms of worship are provided for children of different ages. What is done at these services has shown its results in practical life during the course of the years; it contributes in a very special way to the deepening of religious feeling, and awakens a mood of great devotion in the hearts of the children.

We allow the parents to attend these services, and it has become evident that this free religious teaching truly brings new life to Christianity And there is real Christianity in the Waldorf School, because through this naturalistic religion during the early years the children are gradually led to an understanding of the Christ Mystery, when they reach the higher classes.

Our free Religion classes have, indeed, gradually become full to overflowing. We have all kinds of children coming into them from the Protestant pastor or the Catholic priest, but we make no propaganda for it. It is difficult enough for us to find sufficient Religion teachers, and therefore we are not particularly pleased when too many children come; neither do we wish the school to acquire the reputation of being an Anthroposophical School of a sectarian kind. We do not want that at all. Only our educational conscience has constrained us to introduce this free Religion teaching. But children turn away from the Catholic and Protestant teaching and more and more come over to us and want to have the free Religion teaching: they like it better. It is not our fault that they run away from their other teachers: but as I have said, the principle of the whole thing was that religious instruction should be given, to begin with, by the various pastors. When you ask, then, what kind of religious teaching we have, I can only speak of what our own free Religion teaching is, as I have just described it.

Should French and German be taught from the beginning, in an English School? If the children come to a Kindergarten Class at five or six years old, ought they, too, to have language lessons?

As to whether French and German should be taught from the beginning in an English School, I should first like to say that I think this must be settled entirely on grounds of expediency. If you simply find that life is making it necessary to teach these languages, you must teach them. We have introduced French and English into the Waldorf School, because with French there is much to be learnt from the inner quality of the language, not found elsewhere, namely, a certain feeling for rhetoric which it is very good to acquire: and English is taught because it is a universal world language, and will become so more and more.

Now, I should not wish to decide categorically whether French and German should be taught in an English School, but you must be guided by the circumstances of life. It is not at all so important which language is chosen as that foreign languages are actually taught in the school.

And if children of four or five years do already come to school (which should not really be the case) it would then be good to do languages with them also. It would be right for this age. Some kind of language teaching can be given even before the age of the change of teeth, but it should only be taught as a proper lesson after this change. If you have a Kindergarten Class for the little children, it would be quite right to include the teaching of languages but all other school subjects should as far as possible be postponed until after the change of teeth.

I should like to express, in conclusion, what you will readily appreciate, namely, that I am deeply gratified that you are taking such an active interest in making the Waldorf School Method fruitful here in England, and that you are working with such energy for the establishment of a school here, on our Anthroposophical lines. And I should like to express the hope that you may succeed in making use of what you were able to learn from our Training Courses in Stuttgart, from what you have heard at various other Courses which have been held in England, and, finally, from what I have been able to give you here in a more aphoristic way, in order to establish a really good school here on Anthroposophical lines. You must remember how much depends upon the success of the very first attempt. If it does not succeed, very much is lost, for all else will be judged by the first attempt. And indeed, very much depends on how your first project is launched: from it the world must take notice that the matter is neither something which is steeped in abstract, dilettante plans of school reform, nor anything amateur but something which arises out of a conception of the real being of man, and which is now to be brought to bear on the art of education. And it is indeed the very civilisation of today, which is now moving through such critical times, that calls us to undertake this task, along with many other things.

In conclusion I should like to give you my right good thoughts on your path—the path which is to lead to the founding of a school here on Anthroposophical lines.

• 1. It should be noted that before this transition from the concrete to the abstract dealt with above, a rhythmic approach is used in the teaching of the rudiments of number, e.g. the tables, in the lower classes.
• 2. The sketch was made on the blackboard with coloured chalks but it has only been possible to reproduce it in black and white.
• 3. A method of Gymnastic teaching on the lines indicated above was subsequently worked out by Fritz Graf Bothmer, teacher of Gymnastic s at the Waldorf School, Stuttgart.
• 4. This paragraph can easily be misunderstood unless two other aspects of the education are borne in mind. Firstly: Here Dr. Steiner is only speaking of the content of the actual Religion lessons. In the class teaching all children are introduced to the stories of the Old Testament. Secondly, quite apart from the Religion lessons the Festivals of the year are celebrated with all children in a Rudolf Steiner School, in forms adapted to their ages. Christmas takes a very special place, and is prepared for all through Advent by carol singing, the daily opening of a star-window in the “Advent Calendar,” and the lighting of candles on the Advent wreath hung in the classroom. At the end of the Christmas term the teachers perform traditional Nativity Plays as their gift to the children. All this is in the nature of an experience for the children, inspired by feeling and the Christmas mood. Later, in the Religion lessons, on the basis of this experience, they can be brought to a more conscious knowledge and understanding of the Gospels.

Speeches by Rudolf Steiner at the preliminary meeting of the fourth ordinary general assembly of “Futurum A.G.”

Emil Leinhas greets the members of the Anthroposophical Society who are present and who represent about 80% of the share capital of “The Coming Day”, and asks Dr. Steiner to take the chair.

Rudolf Steiner: My dear friends! Today we will probably have to hold the most sober and uninspiring meeting possible within the Anthroposophical Society, and therefore we may well ask that pure reason alone prevail in today's meeting, otherwise we will hardly be able to cope.

The point is that today we have to talk to each other in a certain way about the fate of the “Coming Day”, which is connected with many ideals that members of the Anthroposophical Society have embraced in recent years. We have in the “Coming Day” an institution that emerged, so to speak, as the last major institution from the once emerging threefold social order movement, and it is only with a certain pain that we can turn our attention to the fact that this “Coming Day” is now in a truly serious crisis that absolutely must be resolved. Above all, it is important to see things as soberly as possible.

The hopes have not been fulfilled that the things connected with the “Coming Day” could proceed as one had wanted, that the Central European economic crisis, so to speak, would pass by the “Coming Day”, but the “Coming Day” is now just as any other business, fully participating in what the declining economic life offers. The “Coming Day” is not doing better today, but also not worse than any other Central European business.

The crisis has come about in the following way: if, [after the currency was converted to gold marks], the “Coming Day” had cash today, the possibility of continuing its economic and intellectual operations with cash, if it could count on being able to take out loans, then it would be able to continue working, just as other businesses are truly not working under better conditions today. However, the “Coming Day” does not have any cash, and so it cannot continue its economic and spiritual activities as they have existed up to now. The material value of the “Coming Day” is - and this must be emphasized again and again - such that if cash were available or could be raised, there would be no objection to simply letting the leadership go. Of course, there may be other reasons why “The Coming Day” is unable to find cash at the moment, but the main reason is that German economic life has taken on forms that make it impossible for the “Coming Day” to continue as other commercial enterprises do, because to do so it would have been necessary for the “Coming Day” to be treated with the same goodwill from outside as other commercial enterprises have been. That did not happen. A large part of the reasons why the “Coming Day” is in this crisis due to the lack of any cash funds - soberly this cannot be put differently than this: a large part of the blame lies in the way the “Coming Day” was vilified in the world. A project that is presented to the world in this way could only continue to function if it had a core of people who would take financial responsibility for it. But if only what has happened so far within the Anthroposophical Society is continued, the only thing that can be counted on, this is not the case either, and so today we can do no other than objectively present the situation of the “Coming Day” as it is. Therefore, I will take the liberty of organizing today's agenda in such a way that I will first ask Mr. Leinhas to present the situation of the “Coming Day” objectively to you, and as the second point on the agenda, I will make the proposals that need to be made in view of the serious situation. So I ask Mr. Leinhas to give an objective presentation of the situation of the “Coming Day” as a prerequisite for our further negotiations.

[Emil Leinhas describes the situation on the basis of the balance sheet. The situation is such that the economic enterprises can no longer support the spiritual ones.

Rudolf Steiner: My dear friends! You have listened to the description of the situation of the “Coming Day”, and I will now take the liberty, with a heavy heart but purely rationally, as I ask you to take it, of discussing the only way we can get over this crisis of the “Coming Day” in my opinion.

The essential thing here is that, in view of the description of the situation that has just been given to us, we now have to divide the “Coming Day” into two parts: one comprising purely economic enterprises and the other comprising spiritual enterprises. If we draw the conclusion from what has just been said, it is actually the case that we, who, as anthroposophists, have to reflect on the situation, have to say that The “Coming Day” is no longer able to provide any cash for the spiritual activities, which essentially include the Waldorf School, the Clinical Therapeutic Institute, the Research Institute and the publishing house. Therefore, the question is – since the prerequisite that I believed I had to make, that the purely economic operations had to be organized first, has failed due to the impossibility of somehow managing today with the sale of these operations or the like – how we manage to separate the spiritual operations of “Coming Day” in a certain way. But this can only be done through extremely difficult measures that require heavy sacrifices on the part of our anthroposophical friends. It is not possible in any other way. You must bear in mind that these spiritual enterprises are now in a situation in which they have no possibility of being continued in any way out of the situation of the “Coming Day”. They have, so to speak, been abandoned, not by any decision, but by the facts.

The question arises: how do we get out of this situation? We have to consider the following: the “Coming Day” has issued 109,000 shares. Let us do the math based on the number of shares. If we make an estimate, but probably a fairly accurate one, of the share capital underlying these 109,000 shares, and divide it between the purely economic and the spiritual enterprises, then 74,000 shares are accounted for by the economic and agricultural enterprises and 35,000 by the spiritual enterprises. So, we have possessions for the spiritual enterprises, which correspond to 35,000 shares of “Tomorrow”.

Now, my dear friends, how can these enterprises, these spiritual enterprises, be continued? That is the fundamental question. And however you may look at it, these spiritual enterprises cannot remain as they are in the face of the situation of the “Coming Day”. For what would then have to happen? Then the “Coming Day” would have to proceed in the same way as other enterprises have to proceed today. The holdings would have to be consolidated, and the total mass of shareholders of the “Coming Day” would be faced with exactly the same situation, only with a significantly reduced number of shares. Perhaps this would somewhat increase their creditworthiness, but it is something that cannot be done, given all the prospects that have to be considered.

But if this cannot be done, what can be done? There is nothing else to be done – and I am now saying what I have to say with the greatest reluctance, but it must be said because of the situation, and if I were to present the matter to you in a long-winded way, it would not be any better: the only thing that can be done is to get rid of the 35,000 shares that correspond to the ownership of the spiritual enterprises. But this is only possible if enough people of influence can be found within the Anthroposophical Society who are willing to simply renounce their shareholdings in favor of the most important spiritual enterprises, so that the spiritual enterprises receive the 35,000 shares as a gift. It is just as if spiritual enterprises were to be founded and if a number of self-sacrificing personalities could be found who would contribute the sum corresponding to these 35,000 shares.

So, my dear friends, is it possible that the owners of 35,000 “Kommenden-Tag” shares renounce ownership of their shares? Then the 35,000 shares of Coming Day stock that are being given away could be left to the German Goetheanum fund, which would then have to be at my free disposal. This would give me free rein to run the spiritual enterprises. I see no other possibility for any other solution to the problem we are facing now than for this measure to be taken. You will understand that it is extremely difficult for me, one year after I myself resigned from the supervisory board of “Kommender Tag”, to have to make this enormous demand on the shareholders of “Kommender Tag” today: Give me 35,000 shares so that the spiritual activities can be continued in the way I will explain in a moment.

So if today there are shareholders willing to make this donation, then the matter is such that the “Coming Day” as such will continue to exist as an association of purely economic enterprises. How this continuation is envisaged will be discussed later. This continuation would correspond to a shareholding of 74,000 shares. We can discuss the matter in this area later. At this moment, I consider it my task to explain what can happen to the spiritual enterprises if the 35,000 shares are donated to the German Goetheanum Fund. It would then be clear that this willingness to make a sacrifice would at least express an anthroposophical attitude. The donors would say to themselves: Of course we are making a sacrifice, but we are doing so out of the anthroposophical spirit. There are shareholders in the “Coming Day” who will be able to make such a donation. Since they can, of course, only be placed in a position to make such a gift voluntarily, one can only say: Those who will give will also be able to give. It will be a group of shareholders who can give. On the other hand, there are shareholders of the “Coming Day” who cannot renounce their shareholdings; they are referred to purely economic enterprises. They would be in no different a position than other shareholders. And in order to preserve the full ownership of the 74,000 shares, it would be necessary for the spiritual enterprises to have no influence whatsoever on the economic administration of the “Coming Day”. If this condition were to be fulfilled today, that 35,000 shares of stock be made available to the German Goetheanum fund, and the economic enterprises were to be thought of separately, then the following would emerge:

First of all, the Waldorf School has 300,000 German Marks booked in the “Coming Day”. What the Waldorf School needs cannot really be covered by any kind of equivalent value. As you all know, the Waldorf School is entirely dependent on school fees and voluntary donations for its cash resources. Therefore, if the situation is to be rectified, the Waldorf School cannot be provided with the equipment it needs unless it receives a gift of the full amount. What corresponds to the Waldorf School [in terms of land, buildings and facilities], which is therefore listed in the “Coming Day” with 300,000 marks, must be donated outright.

The following then remains: the Clinical Therapeutic Institute, which is currently linked to the sale of remedies, that is, to the pharmaceutical laboratory. I will discuss the Clinical-Therapeutic Institute later. Regarding the sale of remedies, the balance sheet shows that it can be said that there is every prospect of it no longer requiring any significant sacrifices from today onwards. It is self-financing. However, cash will still be needed in the near future. And because it is a solid economic asset, it will be taken into account as such, and it must also be possible to buy it. Now it occurs to me that the Internationale Laboratorien A.G. in Arlesheim also handles the sale of remedies for all those countries in the world that have not even been ceded to the Stuttgart laboratory in a treaty, that this Internationale Laboratorien A.G. Arlesheim handles the sale of these remedies for the world. It is a joint-stock company. And in view of the balance of the local sales of remedies and in view of the general circumstances relating to our sales of remedies, which are extremely favorable in ideal terms, the International Laboratories A.G. Arlesheim will be persuaded to take over the sale of remedies and carry out the purchase of the laboratory. But again, given the circumstances there in Arlesheim, I cannot imagine that the purchase price could exceed 50,000 francs. These 50,000 francs will of course have to be added to the Goetheanum fund, since if the spiritual enterprises are now independent, if they are given as a gift, but the donation does not receive any cash, so that there could actually be no question of this purchase having the consequence that compensation - which would in any case be quite minimal - could be paid to the donating shareholders.

Regarding the publishing house, I would like to say the following: I can only feel an obligation to the publishing house to save from it the anthroposophical books that I have written myself, the books that are the result of the extraordinary and meritorious research of Dr. and Mrs. Kolisko, the two brochures and another book by Dr. Wachsmuth, a member of the Executive Council at the Goetheanum, which is currently being published. That would make a total of books that could be worth between 25,000 and 30,000 francs. This is something that should be acquired and the income from it should go to the Philosophical-Anthroposophical Press. The other mass of books is such that, speaking purely financially and from the point of view of the Coming Day, I not only cannot feel any obligation towards it, but must not feel any obligation towards it. In the case of this mass of books in particular, it occurs to me that despite all the objections I raised at the time when this book publishing house was founded, this publishing house has only behaved over time in such a way that it has essentially counted on the consumers of the Philosophical-Anthroposophical Publishing House within the Anthroposophical Society; that basically those who at the time created a competing company for the Philosophisch-Anthroposophischer Verlag with the “Coming Day” publishing house with an alleged enthusiasm that was actually foolishness, could easily be taken to task for this. Therefore, I do not feel morally obliged in any way to take care of the remaining book stock of the “Coming Day” publishing house.

This remaining book stock brings me to another thought. In the future, I will have to work hard to ensure that no anthroposophical funds flow into economic enterprises that have nothing to do with the Anthroposophical Society as such. In this regard, there was a time when we gave in, but today it is imperative that no economic enterprises be fed anthroposophical funds in the future. Therefore, it was also necessary for me to ensure that in the future, the entire sale of remedies worldwide would not be based on capital that comes from anthroposophical pockets, but on capital from people who want to manage their own assets with these things, in other words, only by people who do not give the money for anthroposophical reasons, but only out of consideration for those who consider the sale of remedies profitable, without taking into account that this has anything to do with anthroposophy. In the future, these matters can only be dealt with from this point of view. The sale of remedies can be organized in such a way that, if it is also managed commercially in the future, it can become a profitable business in a purely commercial sense, given the great recognition that even those remedies find in the world that I myself have only, I would say, half-hoped for. But it can only be managed with funds that are given for the risk involved in selling the remedies. So I can also recommend to the Internationale Laboratorien A.G. Arlesheim, which will be based on the above principles in the future, the purchase of the sale of remedies here.

That leaves the Clinical Therapeutic Institute in Stuttgart, my dear friends. Although its finances are quite healthy at present, it cannot be thought of as needing any other kind of leadership than that provided by cash. In accordance with the intentions that emerged from the Christmas Conference in Dornach, the Clinical Therapeutic Institute in Arlesheim can no longer be a member of the International Laboratories A.G. in Arlesheim, but only the local laboratory and the sale of remedies. In the future, a spiritual institute cannot be associated with purely economic enterprises. For this reason, the Clinical-Therapeutic Institute in Arlesheim has also been separated from the International Laboratories A.G. in Arlesheim and has become an integral part of the Goetheanum. The same cannot be said for the ClinicalTherapeutic Institute in Stuttgart, because the Goetheanum could not guarantee or take on the risk of a penny subsidy. So the situation of the Clinical Therapeutic Institute in Stuttgart is such that it cannot be connected to the International Laboratories A.G. in Arlesheim, nor can it be connected to the Goetheanum for the simple reason that the Goetheanum cannot take on any risk. The only way to set up the Clinical Therapeutic Institute in Stuttgart is to make it a financially independent enterprise that can be taken over by a doctor or non-doctor who, if subsidies are needed, will take them on at their own risk. On the other hand, if subsidies are not needed, anyone with a little business sense can take them on at their own risk. But if subsidies are necessary, then the Goetheanum certainly cannot take them on. So there is no other option for the clinic than to make it an independent enterprise. As for Gmünd, I do not count it among the enterprises for which I am responsible; the “Coming Day” will have to continue to take care of it and find a way to make it profitable.

What remains, my dear friends, is the scientific research institute, which is almost heartbreaking when you have to talk about it in this situation. But as things stand, the fact is, on the one hand, that the “Coming Day” has no cash for this institute, that the Goetheanum in Dornach is in no position to take on any obligation for this scientific research institute, not even a single penny , so that there is no other possibility — not out of any wish or anything like that, but purely out of the economic situation — than, if no enthusiast can be found to take over and finance the scientific research institute, to dissolve it, to dissolve it completely. We may be burying the idea that we had in mind as one of the most sacred, I would say, to establish economic enterprises to serve the spiritual life. But the possibility of continuing this does not exist.

So the following situation would arise for the spiritual enterprises: the Waldorf School will be supported by donations. The Clinical Therapeutic Institute in Stuttgart will become independent and will be made into a separate enterprise; Gmünd will remain in the care of the “Coming Day”. The scientific research institute will have to be dissolved if no individual or consortium can be found to maintain it. My books and the others mentioned will be removed from the publishing house and it will be ensured that these books fall to the Philosophical-Anthroposophical Publishing House for further distribution. The rest of the book inventory must be sold on the open market to outside publishers. I would consider it inadmissible if any steps were taken within the Anthroposophical Society itself to sell the rest of this book stock and to found anything further on what lies within the Anthroposophical Society, because that would create competition for the Philosophisch-Anthroposophischer Verlag, and no one can demand that what the Philosophisch-Anthroposophischer Verlag is doing should also be undermined by further competition.

That, my dear friends, is the stark and sober truth, which is the only thing that is necessary in the current situation. If we succeed in appealing to the willingness to make sacrifices of so many shareholders in the “Coming Day” today, so that 35,000 shares of stock for the spiritual enterprises are freely available and allocated to the Goetheanum fund, then we can undertake the reorganization of these spiritual enterprises in the way I have described. I would advocate for the order itself and then the remaining 74,000 shares would have to be dealt with for the further operation of the purely economic enterprises that are part of the “coming day”.

Do you believe, my dear friends, that what I have just presented to you briefly, soberly and dryly has really caused me the most serious concerns for weeks, has led to the most difficult struggles. But when Mr. Leinhas came to me at the Goetheanum in Dornach a few weeks ago and told me that the last of the economic enterprises with which the “Coming Day” still had to reckon, which, in a spirit of complete sacrifice, had actually raised the lion's share of the subsidies up to that point, it was clear that this enterprise would no longer be able to raise these subsidies either. Then it was clear: this would mean the end of the possibility of continuing the “Coming Day” in its old form. Then, despite its material assets, the “Coming Day” would be without the possibility of creating cash; then a reorganization would have to take place at all costs. Since that time, the whole matter has been a great concern to me. As long as there was hope that the economic enterprises could be sold first, and the spiritual enterprises would remain as a kind of rump of the “Coming Day”, one could think that what remains could be organized in some way. But now that things have progressed so far that we are standing before the General Assembly and have asked you to come together beforehand in confidence, it is not possible for me to put anything other than what I have just said before you as a proposal.

That is the point at which I would like to open the discussion. I therefore ask friends who want to participate to speak up. We can then, after the things that have been presented have been discussed, move on to discussing what possibilities can be considered for the continuation of the purely economic enterprises. I should also mention that one shareholder, who owns the corresponding number of shares, has made available to me the amount that the Waldorf School in “Kommender Tag” is currently worth. It can also be assumed that a number of others will definitely give it. So it will be possible for the shareholders who are willing to transfer their shares in the way described to add their number of shares to a list that is being passed around.

During the discussion, Emil Kühn asks whether it would not be possible for the shareholders who are donating today to participate in some way in the real values of the spiritual institutions.

Rudolf Steiner: As far as the economic enterprises are concerned, I myself would certainly be open to discussing the question that Dr. Kühn has just touched on. But as far as the spiritual enterprises are concerned, I would like to say the following: If the experiences that have been made in the economic management within the Anthroposophical Society in recent years are taken as a basis, then I can only say that I myself would not participate in the reorganization of the spiritual enterprises differently than if, in every respect, such conditions were created that would only make possible an administration in the spiritual sense for these enterprises.

As far as the Waldorf School is concerned, I would not be able to participate in a reorganization if, in any way, an economic administration were to be associated with this reorganization; and that would be the case if, in some way, the current shareholders of the Waldorf School were to participate. The Waldorf School can only obtain its operating funds from school fees and voluntary contributions, as I said before. And even if the property were there to begin with, it would always have to mean something quite imaginary for those who participate in it. The only healthy relationship is when the Waldorf School itself has this property, when it is given to it. On this condition alone, the spiritual enterprises of “Coming Day” can be detached from my proposal. I can say that I would only participate if a sufficient number of people were to give up their shares as a free gift - and this can only be done of their own free will - in order to find a solution. I myself would not participate in this solution if it were tied to the condition that gifts be made on condition that there should still be a participation. For that, financial administration would be necessary again, and I do not want to be associated with that. So I ask only those friends to sign up who are able to make their donations unconditionally, who want to place these spiritual enterprises on purely spiritual ground.

As you have seen, I have only made the proposals with a heavy heart. The proposal that has now been made is the most obvious one and has also been well considered. Otherwise it would be a matter of issuing bonds that would only represent an imaginary ownership. I want to keep away from anything imaginary. If the Waldorf School is not detached from an economic connection with the “Coming Day”, then I also don't know how the question can be solved, that I could remain the spiritual director of the Waldorf School. So I can't say what influence it would have on my own decisions if such a reorganization, as it has been suggested, were to take place. I have not appealed to a decision by you, but to the willingness of individual anthroposophical friends to make sacrifices. We do not have to bring about a decision if 35,000 shares are donated to the German Goetheanum fund as a gift – if Gmünd is dropped, it is only 29,000 shares – if 29,000 shares are donated to the German Goetheanum fund as a gift. I am not appealing to a decision, but only to the willingness to sacrifice in order to finance the spiritual enterprises in a certain way à fond perdu.

[Further discussion of the donation of shares to save the spiritual enterprises, which would also relieve the economic enterprises. These should become independent and, if possible, be taken over again by their former owners.

Rudolf Steiner: My dear friends! The words contained in my proposal have, I am deeply moved to say, fallen on extraordinarily fertile ground. I do not wish to miss this opportunity to emphasize what seems to me to be important and significant, namely that despite the unfortunate circumstances that have arisen within the Anthroposophical Society as a result of various foundations - I have often spoken about this over the past few years - it has become apparent that the trust in the general anthroposophical movement is so great that we can only look on with the deepest satisfaction that this trust is so great that it has hardly been weakened at all in recent years, despite all the unfortunate measures that have been taken and that were intended to accommodate those who had the faith that such measures could do anything for the anthroposophical cause. I have already emphasized in various places how the reliance on purely anthroposophical ground since the Christmas Conference has been shown everywhere in the most energetic way, that trust in the actual anthroposophical cause has not diminished in recent months, but has become much greater. So that within Anthroposophy we can look with the deepest satisfaction at what is alive among us in this direction.

I must say that today, with an extraordinarily sad and worried heart, I set about making the proposal that I once had to make to you, my dear friends, after becoming aware of the situation of “Kommendes Tag”. And I could have well understood if this proposal had been rejected in the broadest sense. I must say that it is deeply touching and heart-warming that this did not happen, but that we can see that right from the outset, in the first hour, friends have agreed to donate 20,700 shares to the Goetheanum Fund. I cannot tell you how grateful I am for this very beautiful result, that we can look at this result, that the indicated number of 20,700 shares has been made available, so that in the very near future we will be able to achieve full financial recovery of the spiritual enterprises in this direction, as far as possible, and thus also be able to contribute indirectly to the recovery of the “Coming Day”.

This is an extraordinarily distressing result, and we can only look back on the proceedings of this meeting with the deepest emotion. I thank all those who were able to donate and did so, truly from the bottom of my heart for what you have done, which means an extraordinarily significant deed not only for the “Coming Day”, but especially for our anthroposophical movement. For if this willingness to make sacrifices is now being shown in spite of the failures of recent years within anthroposophical circles in such a way, we will nevertheless be able to achieve what needs to be achieved on our main path in the near future. And what needs to be achieved is what can be done through anthroposophy in spiritual terms for humanity and for modern civilization. Even if our material undertakings have not had the desired success, even if everything that has emerged from the threefold social order movement has basically fallen through today, we still have the opportunity – and this is solely due to the unlimited trust that our anthroposophists have in anthroposophy – to make further progress in the spiritual realm.

This, however, also imposes an obligation on me to continue in the way I have tried to make the Christmas Conference fruitful so far, by making the Anthroposophical Society ever more esoteric and esoteric, in an active way. It is precisely from what our friends have done today that I feel how strong the obligation is to continue in this direction in the most energetic way. If we stick together in this way, each doing what he can do, we will make progress on the appropriate path.

You see, my dear friends, there is still work to be done: the threefolding movement was founded here years ago. Individual enterprises have emerged from it. The part of the threefolding movement that should have been carried out in a purely practical way, for which practical collaboration would have been necessary, did not initially prove itself. On the other hand, far beyond the borders of Europe, especially in America, there is a great deal of interest in these impulses. Let me use this word, which has been so much maligned: These are realities of the threefold social order. It is becoming apparent that these impulses are nevertheless being taken up with a certain understanding more and more. And perhaps it will be good for these impulses in particular if we do not try to translate them into unsuitable practice in a hasty manner, but instead follow what I have often said at the beginning of our explanations of our magazine Anthroposophie: Threefolding can only take effect when it has entered as many minds as possible. We have seen the failure of applying threefolding to the outer practice of people's lives, but it will make its way into the world as something that is, after all, on anthroposophical ground. All indications show that our strength must be applied in the anthroposophical-spiritual field. And in this sense, I would like to tell you that I feel it is my duty and my gratitude to do everything in my power to further and advance the esoteric-spiritual character of our anthroposophical movement. If we succeed, and we must succeed, because the spiritual does not encounter obstacles in the same way as external material things, then the friends who have shown this willingness to make sacrifices will feel even more closely connected to our life in the Anthroposophical Movement in a renewed way.

Since it is already late, we may perhaps close today's meeting with this.

Our time is characterized by reform. Reform movements and reform efforts are everywhere. Dissatisfied with the existing, the traditional and unsatisfied with the experiences they have made, people are seeking to shape and develop something new and to seek their salvation in something different. And that is how it should be; because everything in the universe, the big picture, all cultures, the individual human being, everything is in the process of becoming, of developing, there is no standstill.

How great and powerful the ideas of the individual reformers often are, but how distorted and taken to extremes they are by the masses. Let us take one of our most outstanding reform movements. There is a movement that has not yet been noticed in any cultural epoch, [which seems very strange to some:] it is the “women's movement”.

The urge to take part in the great tasks of culture and social life drives women to struggle for recognition and equality with men. The times also force women to do so. They no longer want to rule in a smaller circle, tied to unsatisfactory circumstances or standing alone in the world, without a supportive job, without a life's work. No, she wants to work in the cultural life, standing on her own two feet, with the same rights as men. The wonderful ideal of a housewife, which Schiller so beautifully shows us in his “Glocke”: “And within reigns the chaste housewife,” is no longer an ideal for the vast majority of our female world.

But how misunderstood and extreme this urge for independence and freedom is. Because women have not yet grasped that it is not only self-confidence in professional life that makes women free and independent, or that arbitrary action falls within the sphere of freedom, but that above all we must become independent and free within ourselves, that only the thorough working through of our entire psychological life, the ennoblement and purification of our character, makes women independent and free beings. Then external circumstances may be as they may, they will have little influence. The attainment of inner independence gives a woman the right to external freedom and independence; and only then can she become a man's equal, but not his rival. Only spiritual science can show us the way to this true inner independence; all other striving for freedom leads nowhere.

Let us turn to another area, that of naturopathy. It has been found that many of today's illnesses can be traced back to our current cultural life. The struggle for existence hardly allows people to rest, much less to recover. It is believed that because our ancestors lived so completely in nature, in the fresh air, unencumbered by clothing, [and with a simple diet], this was the decisive factor for their health. And because medical science can no longer find the right solution in some cases, people believe that a “back to nature”, a life with nature, would be the healthiest thing. They take earth, water, air and warmth and apply them wherever they can, in all conceivable cases.

But they do not consider that man is an individual being who no longer has a relationship with all elements. For some, sunbathing is not at all appropriate, while for others, water cures can be extremely harmful. If, from a secret scientific point of view, people are to become healthy, then an individual approach will have to be taken. Each person will receive the cure that is beneficial to their innermost nature, their temperament, their entire character, their spiritual makeup.

However, the human being is always in the closest connection with the eternal laws and only according to these can a complete healing of the same, a complete harmony of the human being with his physical and psychological organism be established. There is no “back to nature” for the human being in the sense that he believes he sees the highest in nature, but only a “through nature to the spirit”.

Vegetarianism usually goes hand in hand with natural healing methods. It is believed that animal food contains something that is not beneficial to health, and it is believed that it would be more beneficial for humans to enjoy plant-based food. This view goes so far as to consider that even milk, and the cheese and similar products made from it, are not suitable for nutrition. Everywhere, people are turning to plant products to get the right variety and a complete substitute for meat. This way of life is indeed very beneficial, but whether everyone can do it for a long time is another question. Because a vegetarian diet without spiritual pursuit inevitably leads to illness. It is said that [vegetarianism was known in Greece centuries before Christ, and] that the great sage of antiquity, Pythagoras, was the founder of vegetarianism. But this begs the question: Who was Pythagoras and why did he live as a vegetarian? And this brings us to the realm of secret schools, the mysteries.

From time immemorial, secret schools have existed all over the world, whose members endeavored to penetrate into the hidden being of the world, to see behind the veil of the ephemeral, through strict self-discipline, diligent study, and meditation. In Greece, it was especially Pythagoras, one of the great initiates, who worked in this sense. He had gathered students around him, whom he introduced to the mysteries through rigorous trials. At the same time, he also issued strict dietary regulations. Intoxicating drinks were completely frowned upon. Likewise, the consumption of meat and legumes was strictly forbidden. Even in later times, all secret schools gave instructions for the students' way of life. For the student should learn to choose food according to the principles of spiritual knowledge. He must know that in what he takes in as nourishment lies the power of certain entities. And if man wants to become the ruler of his organism, he must consciously choose his food.

When one first understands which entities are attracted by this or that food, one also recognizes the importance of nutrition. In the past, even in the great religious communities, for example in Judaism and Catholicism, the effects of food were known. Non-compliance with the regulations was punished with expulsion from the community.

In Brahmanism, too, the time between Christmas and Easter was dedicated to Vishnu. Those who called themselves his servants celebrated this time by abstaining from all legumes, oil, meat, salt and intoxicating drinks, for example. In those days, there still existed a living sense of the connection between the microcosm and the macrocosm, and every adult member of the community was required to make himself more receptive to certain spiritual forces at very specific times, so that he might celebrate a rebirth and resurrection with all of nature. These were the times before Christmas and before Easter.

Now let us consider what nourishment actually is. Almost no other area attracts as much interest as nutrition; because the demands that today's world places on the individual's ability to perform, necessitate good [and strong] nutrition. We see that we need nourishment to sustain our body. Through nourishment we supply our body with building and sustaining forces. From an external scientific point of view, food is a supply of energy. But esoteric science says: the trinity manifests itself in all of nature. Every thing consists of form, life and consciousness.

Everything in nature is animated and spiritualized. We take our nourishment from the animal and plant kingdoms. The animal has its physical body, its etheric body and its astral body in the physical world; the group ego of animals is on the astral plane. When the animal is dead, the effect of the animal nature is not yet eliminated, because the principle of the animal continues to work after the animal's death.

The same applies to plants. The plant has its physical and etheric body on the physical plane, its astral body in the astral world, and the plant's I is in Devachan. The principle at work in the plant will also be effective after the preparation of the plant. But the nutritional effect extends not only to the physical and life body, but also to the other parts of the human being.

And now let us speak about nutrition in connection with our spiritual striving. Meditation and concentration exercises will be the main thing, [but how the striving person nourishes himself will not be as unimportant] when the work on the astral body begins.

Above all, it is important to avoid alcohol in any form; even alcohol-filled sweets can be very harmful. Alcohol and spiritual exercises lead to the worst paths! From a scientific point of view, the bad influence on brain function has already been proven; how much more should a person who directs all his striving towards the spiritual abstain from a pleasure that completely excludes the recognition of the spiritual.

The consumption of meat and fish is not advisable. In meat, man enjoys all the animal passion, and in fish, he enjoys the entire world Kama [...] with.

Mushrooms are extremely harmful. They contain inhibiting lunar energy, and everything that originated on the moon signifies rigidity. Legumes are also not very advisable because of their high nitrogen content. Nitrogen pollutes the ether body.

Let us single out some of the coarsest lower qualities and relate them to the various nutrients. If a person is very independent and tends to be very selfish, they should eat little concentrated sugar; because sugar promotes independence. On the other hand, if someone has no inner or outer support and always believes they need to lean on and be supported, they should eat plenty of sugar to become more independent. If someone is very much dominated by [anger], they should eat a lot of spices, especially salt and pepper, in their food. If someone is very inclined towards laziness and indolence, they should especially avoid nitrogenous food and choose fruit and vegetables as their food.

If someone wants to tackle the difficult problem of mastering the sexual passion – the passion that, when acted out in a base manner, degrades man below the animal, but when transformed brings him closest to his divinity – he should consume as little protein-rich food as possible. Excessive consumption of proteins causes the reproductive substances to become overabundant, and this makes it very difficult to control one's sexual passion.

If someone tends towards envy, resentment and deceit, cucumbers, gourds and all the tendril plants are not beneficial for them. You also have to be a little careful when enjoying fruit. People who are very prone to emotional enthusiasm should not enjoy melons. The sweet, intoxicating scent [of this fruit] obscures clear consciousness. Even very abundant apple consumption is not beneficial for everyone. In certain people, it increases the desire for power and often leads to rudeness and brutality. Cherries and strawberries are not digestible for everyone because of their high iron content. Bananas, dates and figs are more beneficial.

You can also make a certain selection when it comes to nuts. If someone wants to undergo a course of intellectual training, then above all they need a well-built, healthy brain. Rarely do parents in this day and age give their children such a well-built brain, and so it needs a supplement to strengthen the brain, and it is above all the hazelnut that provides the substance to build the brain. All other types of nuts are less valuable. Peanuts should be avoided altogether.

As for fats, we should give preference to butter made from milk. Hazelnut butter would also be advisable.

Now we come to the luxury foods: coffee and tea. Drinking coffee aids logical thinking. But drinking coffee alone will not make us logical thinkers, for there is more to it than that. In people who do not have a thinking mind, as is often the case with women, drinking too much coffee can lead to hysteria. Drinking tea produces good ideas. But one can also get good ideas through special exercises.

During the time of spiritual striving, it is especially necessary for a person to live in moderation! “Temperance purifies the feelings, awakens the ability, cheers the mind and strengthens the memory. Through temperance, the soul is almost freed from its earthly burden and thus enjoys a higher freedom,” says an old sage.

If a person were to eat a lot and often, they would not be able to produce any fruitful thoughts. This is because if digestion takes up a lot of energy, there is no strength left for thinking. Precisely those people who filled the world with the products of their minds lived on a very meager diet. Schiller, Shakespeare and many other poets, to whom we owe magnificent works, worked their way through severe privation. The mind is never as clear as after a long fast. Also in the history of religious orders and in the biographies of the saints, one finds numerous examples of the effects of an abstemious life. The greatest saints lived only on fruits, bread and water, and no miracle-working saint would be known to have shown divine powers in action at an opulent meal. Also, all the great sages of antiquity were known for their temperance.

When the human being goes further in his spiritual striving, when the laws of truth and good flow more and more into the I, when the rays of the great spiritual sun flood and illuminate the I more and more, then the conscious working through of the life or etheric body begins.

The eternal essence of man, that which goes from embodiment to embodiment, lives itself out in each new embodiment in such a way that it causes a certain interaction of the four limbs (physical, etheric, astral body and I) of human nature, and from the way these [four] limbs interact, the temperament of the human being arises. Depending on which of these elements is particularly prominent, a person will approach us with this or that temperament. Whether the forces of one or the other prevail and predominate over the others, the peculiar coloring of human nature depends on this, which we call the peculiar coloring of temperament. There are four main temperaments: the choleric, sanguine, phlegmatic, and melancholic temperaments. These are mixed in the most diverse ways in the individual human being, so that one can only speak of the fact that this or that predominates in a person. When a person works on himself, he brings harmony, order, and balance to these temperaments. Although spiritual exercises will be the main thing in working with the temperaments, how a person nourishes himself will also be important.

If the physical principle predominates in a person, this often becomes a kind of obstacle in development. But man must be master of his physical body if he wants to use it. Man is not able to use his instrument completely, so that the other principles experience an obstruction and disharmony arises between the physical body and the other limbs.

When the melancholic person works on himself, he should only eat food that grows very close to the sun. Food that grows far away from the earth, that has ripened under the full power of the sun, would be fruit food. Just as the spiritual sun glows and illuminates a person through spiritual exercises, so too should the solidifying and congealing tendencies in the melancholic be permeated and interwoven in the physical through the solar forces contained in fruit nutrition.

In the phlegmatic person, where the etheric body predominates, which keeps the individual functions in balance, where the inner life, which is limited in itself, generates inner comfort, and the person lives in this inner comfort preferentially, so that he feels so good when everything is in order in his organism, and is not at all inclined to turn his inner interest outward or even to develop a strong will: such a person should eat food that does not grow under the earth. Especially not foods that often take two years to flourish before they come to the surface; for example, a phlegmatic person should not eat black salsify. The seed of this plant takes so long to open up to external forces, and a phlegmatic person also needs a lot of work before they take an active interest in the outside world. The principle of this plant would only increase their inner complacency.

For sanguine persons, where the astral body predominates, where a person takes an interest in an object but soon lets it go, where a quick arousal and a rapid transition to another object is evident, even root vegetables should be chosen as food. One could almost say that a sanguine person must even be tied to the physical through food, otherwise his ease of movement could take him too far. So here, vegetables that thrive underground are even recommended.

When the ego is predominant, when the ego works with its powers in a particular way, and dominates the other elements of human nature, then the choleric temperament arises. The choleric person must above all beware of heating and exciting foods. Anything that is irritating and strongly spiced is extremely harmful to him.

One would assume that with higher development, temperament no longer plays a major role and that diet no longer has any influence. At the mastery level, this is indeed the case, because the master needs no solid food, nor will temperament influence or control him anymore. But he will use the temperaments to be effective in the physical world. He will use the choleric temperament to perform his magical acts; he will let the events and occurrences of the physical world pass by like a sanguine; he will behave like a phlegmatic in the enjoyment of life; and he will brood over his spiritual insights like a melancholic. But it will be a little while before we get there!

We should try to harmonize our whole life with our spiritual aspirations. Not just a small part of the day should be lived according to our ideals, but we should organize our occupations accordingly, choose our tasks with this in mind, and even regulate our nutrition in this way, striving to become a harmonious and established person, in order to then be able to engage in life to the best of our abilities. Life gives us nothing, everything must be achieved.

Goethe's beautiful saying belongs here:

“A serious will,
A persistent striving,
Is the only thing that leads you to your goal.
The purpose is no mere accident,
And life gives back only
What you gave to it.”

by Marie Steiner (1943)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Stuttgart Negotiations on the Consolidation of the Anthroposophical Society

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

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

Course of the Stuttgart Delegates' Conference

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

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

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

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

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

Conrad's motion is carried.

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

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

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

Dr. Toepel's motion was rejected.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Working weeks in England

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Therapeutic principles and curative eurythmy

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

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

Re-constitution of the English Anthroposophical Society

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Conference of the German Anthroposophical Society

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

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

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

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

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

From Dornach to Vienna and back via Stuttgart

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Conference in Holland

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Retrospective

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