The Rudolf Steiner Archive

The above letter of invitation came into our hands on June 25; we will distribute it as quickly as possible among all working groups of the Anthroposophical Society in Germany. We very much hope that quite a few of our members will find the opportunity to be present at this assembly of delegates. Since there is no longer time to convene a general assembly of the German Anthroposophical Society to discuss the issues to be addressed at the delegates' meeting in Dornach, we propose that those members of the Anthroposophical Society in Germany who are able to come to Dornach meet with the board of the Anthroposophical Society in Germany for a preliminary discussion on July 21 at the Glass Studio. ¹ This will give the Executive Council of the Anthroposophical Society in Germany an opportunity to hear the wishes and suggestions of the members before the delegates' meeting, to discuss them and thus to represent the Anthroposophical Society in Germany in a unified way.

With best regards,
The Board of the Anthroposophical Society in Germany
i. A.: Dr.-Ing. Carl Unger, Dr. Walter Johannes Stein

• 1. The meeting took place on the 22nd; cf. p. 584.

DR STEINER:

My dear friends!

Once more let us fill our hearts with the words which out of the signs of the times are to give us in the right way the self knowledge we need:

Soul of Man!
Thou livest in the limbs
Which bear thee through the world of space
In the spirit's ocean-being.
Practise spirit-recalling
In depths of soul,
Where in the wielding will
Of world-creating
Thine own I
Comes to being
Within God's I.
And thou wilt truly live
In the World-Being of Man.

Soul of Man!
Thou livest in the beat of heart and lung
Which leads thee through the rhythm of time
Into the realm of thine own soul's feeling.
Practise spirit-awareness
In balance of the soul,
Where the surging deeds
Of the world's becoming
Thine own I
Unite
With the World-I.
And thou wilt truly feel
In the Soul-Weaving of Man.

Soul of Man!
Thou livest in the resting head
Which from the grounds of eternity
Opens to thee the world-thoughts.
Practise spirit-beholding
In stillness of thought,
Where the eternal aims of Gods
World-Being's Light
On thine own I
Bestow
For thy free willing.
And thou wilt truly think
In the Spirit-Foundations of Man.

Once more out of these cosmic verses let us write down before our souls a rhythm so that we may gradually press forward spiritually to their structure. From the first verse we take the words:

Thine own I
Comes to being
Within God's I.

And from the second verse, which contains a second soul process, we take:

Thine own I
Unite
With the World-I.

And from the third verse we take:

On thine own I
Bestow
For thy free willing.

With these words, to form the corresponding rhythm, we now unite those words which always sound with them, having an inner soul connection with these that I have already written on the blackboard:

And thou wilt truly live
In the World-Being of Man.

And from the second verse:

And thou wilt truly feel
In the Soul-Weaving of Man.

The final harmony of the third verse is:

And thou wilt truly think
In the Spirit-Foundations of Man.

You will find, my dear friends, that if you pay attention to the inner rhythms that lie in these verses, if you then present these inner rhythms to your soul and perform a suitable meditation within yourself, allowing your thoughts to come to rest upon them, then these sayings can be felt to be the speaking of cosmic secrets in so far as these cosmic secrets are resurrected in the human soul as human self knowledge.

Now, dear friends, let us prepare to have—if you will pardon the ugly expression—a general debate about the Statutes. To start with let me draw your attention to what kind of points come into question for this general debate. Later—if you will pardon an even uglier expression—we shall have a kind of detailed debate on special concerns about the individual Paragraphs.

The first thing to be considered would be the fact that in future the Vorstand-committee situated in Dornach is to be a true Vorstand which takes into account the central initiative necessary in every single case with respect to one thing or another. It will be less a matter of knowing that there is a Vorstand in such and such a place to which it is possible to turn in one matter or another—though this too is possible and necessary, of course. Rather it will be a matter of the Vorstand developing the capacity to have active initiatives of its own in the affairs of the Anthroposophical Movement, giving suggestions which are really necessary in the sense of the final point in the last Paragraph of the Statutes:

‘The organ of the Society is Das Goetheanum, which for this purpose is provided with a Supplement containing the official communications of the Society. This enlarged edition of Das Goetheanum will be supplied to members of the Anthroposophical Society only.’

In this Supplement will be found everything the Vorstand thinks, would like to do and, on occasion, will be able to do. Thus especially through the Supplement to Das Goetheanum the Vorstand will constantly have the intention of working outwards in a living way. But as you know, for blood to circulate there have to be not only centrifugal forces but also centripetal forces that work inwards. Therefore arrangements will have to be made so that a number of members unite themselves closely in their soul with the Vorstand in everything that might concern not only the Anthroposophical Society in the narrower sense but also in the whole cultural life of the present day in relation to the working of the Anthroposophical Society. A number of members will be closely linked in their soul with the Vorstand in order to communicate back all that goes on outside in the world. By this means we shall achieve an entirely free constitution of the Anthroposophical Society, a constitution built on a free interchange. Then stimulus and suggestion will come from every direction. And these suggestions will bear fruit depending on the way in which things are recognized. So it will have to be arranged that there are correspondents for the Vorstand which is located in Dornach, where it works.

At the present moment of the Anthroposophical Society's development it is important that we make our arrangements on the basis of reality and not of principles. There is, is there not, a difference between the two. If you base your considerations on the structure of a society and arrange its affairs in accordance with this, then you have a theoretical structure of principles. We have had plenty of this kind of thing recently, and it was absolutely no use. Indeed in many ways it caused us serious difficulties. So I want to exert every effort to make arrangements in the future that arise out of the real forces of the Society, out of the forces that exist already and have already had their effect, and of which it can be seen from their context that they can work. So it seems to me that it would be a good thing to be clear at least in spirit about the establishment of correspondents of the Vorstand, people who would take on the voluntary duty of writing to us every week about what they consider noteworthy in cultural life outside in the world and about what might be interesting for the Anthroposophical Society. A number of people, which could always of course be extended, ought to take on this obligation here and now. I for my part should like to suggest several people straight away to constitute an externally supporting Vorstand that is exactly equivalent to the central Vorstand which, as I have already said, is located here in Dornach, which means that it cannot have any members who do not live here in Dornach. In this way we would achieve a genuine circulation of blood. So I want to suggest that certain persons of the following kind—forgive me for generalizing; we can certainly discuss this further—keep in regular contact with the Vorstand on a weekly basis. The kind of person I mean is someone who has already resolved to work very actively out there in the periphery for our anthroposophical cause: Herr van Leer. Secondly I am thinking of the following people: Mr Monges, Mr Collison, Mrs Mackenzie, Herr Ingerö, Herr Zeylmans, Mademoiselle Sauerwein, Baroness de Renzis, Madame Ferreri, Fräulein Schwarz, Count Polzer, Dr Unger, Herr Leinhas, Dr Büchenbacher.

I have started by naming these people because I am of the opinion that if they would commit themselves voluntarily to report in a letter every week to the editors of Das Goetheanum, not only on what is going on in the anthroposophical field but on anything that might be interesting for Anthroposophy in the cultural life of the world and indeed life in general, this would give us a good opportunity to shape this Supplement to Das Goetheanum very fruitfully.

The second thing to consider in the general debate about the Statutes is the fact that the establishment of a Vorstand in the way I have suggested to you means that the Anthroposophical Society will be properly represented, so that other associations or organizations which exist for the promotion of the cause of Anthroposophy, wherever they happen to be, can refer back to this central Vorstand. The central Vorstand will have to consider its task to be solely whatever lies in the direction of fulfilling the Statutes. It will have to do everything that lies in the direction of fulfilling the Statutes. This gives it great freedom. But at the same time we shall all know what this central Vorstand represents, since from the Statutes we can gain a complete picture of what it will be doing. As a result, wherever other organizations arise, for instance the Goetheanum Bauverein, it will be possible for them to stand on realistic ground. Over the next few days there will be the task of creating a suitable relationship between the Vorstand that has come into being and the Goetheanum Bauverein.⁴⁶ But today in the general debate about the Statutes we can discuss anything of this kind which might be worrying you about them.

The third thing to consider will be a matter raised in a meeting of delegates of the Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland, namely how to organize the relationship between the members of the Anthroposophical Society who live here close to the Goetheanum either permanently or on a temporary basis on the one hand and the members of the Swiss Anthroposophical Society on the other. It was quite justifiably stated here the other day at a delegates' meeting of our Swiss friends⁴⁷ that if people who happen to be present by coincidence, or perhaps not by coincidence but only temporarily, for a short while, interfere too much in the affairs of the Swiss Society, then the Swiss friends might feel pressured in their meetings. We need to ensure that the Goetheanum branch—though for obvious reasons it should and must be a part of the Swiss Anthroposophical Society—is given a position which prevents it, even if it has non-Swiss members, from ever becoming an instrument for persuasion or for creating a majority. This is what was particularly bothering the Swiss members at their delegates' meeting recently. This situation has become somewhat awkward for the following reasons:

The suggestion had been made by me to found national Societies on the basis of which the General Anthroposophical Society would be founded here at Christmas. These national Societies have indeed come into being almost without exception in every country where there are anthroposophists. At all these anthroposophical foundation meetings it was said in one way or another that a national Society would be founded like the one already in existence in Switzerland. So national Societies were founded everywhere along the lines of the Swiss Anthroposophical Society. However, it is important to base whatever happens on clear statements. If this had been done there would have been no misunderstanding which led to people saying that since national Societies were being founded everywhere a Swiss national Society ought to be formed too. After all, it was the Swiss Society on which the others were modelled. However, the situation was that the Swiss Society did not have a proper Council, since its Council was made up of the chairmen of the different branches. This therefore remains an elastic but rather indeterminate body. For things to appear in a more orderly fashion in the future, it will be necessary for the Swiss Anthroposophical Society to form itself with a Council and perhaps also a General Secretary like those of the other national Anthroposophical Societies. Then it will be possible to regularize the relationship with the Goetheanum branch. This is merely a suggestion. But in connection with it I want to say something else.

The whole way in which I consider that the central Vorstand, working here at the Goetheanum, should carry out its duties means that of necessity there is an incompatibility between the offices of this Vorstand and any other offices of the Anthroposophical Society. Thus a member of the Vorstand I have suggested to you here ought not to occupy any other position within the Anthroposophical Society. Indeed, dear friends, proper work cannot be done when offices are heaped one on top of another. Above all else let us in future avoid piling offices one on top of the other. So it will be necessary for our dear Swiss friends to concern themselves with choosing a General Secretary, since Herr Steffen, as the representative of the Swiss, whose guests we are in a certain way as a worldwide Society, will in future be taking up the function of Vice-president of the central Society. You were justifiably immensely pleased to agree with this. I do not mean to say that this is incompatible with any other offices but only with other offices within the Anthroposophical Society.

Another thing I want to say is that I intend to carry out point 5 by arranging the School of Spiritual Science in Dornach in Sections as follows. These will be different from the Classes.⁴⁸ The Classes will encompass all the Sections. Let me make a drawing similar to that made by Dr Wachsmuth; not the same, but I hope it encompasses the whole earth in the same way. The Classes will be like this: General Anthroposophical Society, First Class, Second Class, Third Class of the School of Spiritual Science.

The Sections will reach from top to bottom, so that within each Section it will be possible to be a member of whichever Class has been attained. The Sections I would like to found are:

First of all a General Anthroposophical Section, which will to start with be combined with the Pedagogical Section. I myself should like to take this on in addition to the overall leadership of the School of Spiritual Science. Then I want to arrange the School in such a way that each Section has a Section Leader who is responsible for it; I believe these must be people residing here. One Section will encompass what in France is called ‘belles-lettres.’ Another will encompass the spoken arts and music together with eurythmy. A third Section will encompass the plastic arts. A fourth Section is to encompass medicine. A fifth is to encompass mathematics and astronomy. And the last, for the moment, is to be for the natural sciences. So suitable representatives will be found here for these Sections which are those which for the time being can responsibly be included within the general anthroposophical sphere which I myself shall lead. The Section Leaders must, of course, be resident here.

These, then, are the main points on which I would like the general debate to be based. I now ask whether the applications to speak, already handed in, refer to these points. Applications to speak have been handed in by Herr Leinhas, Dr Kolisko, Dr Stein, Dr Palmer, Herr Werbeck, Miss Cross, Mademoiselle Rihouët, Frau Hart-Nibbrig, Herr de Haan, Herr Stibbe, Herr Tymstra, Herr Zagwijn, Frau Ljungquist. On behalf of Switzerland, the working committee. On behalf of Czechoslovakia, Dr Krkavec, Herr Pollak, Dr Reichel, Frau Freund. Do these speakers wish to refer to the debate which is about to begin? (From various quarters the answer is: No!)

DR STEINER: Then may I ask those wishing to speak to raise their hands and to come up here to the platform. Who would like to speak to the general debate?

DR ZEYLMANS: Ladies and gentlemen, I merely want to say that I shall be very happy to take on the task allotted to me by Dr Steiner and shall endeavour to send news about the work in Holland to Dornach each week.

DR STEINER: Perhaps we can settle this matter by asking all those I have so far mentioned—the list is not necessarily complete—to be so good as to raise their hands. (All those mentioned do so.)

Is there anyone who does not want to take on this task? Please raise your hand. (Nobody does so.) You see what a good example has been set in dealing with this first point. All those requested to do so have declared themselves prepared to send a report each week to the editors of Das Goetheanum. This will certainly amount to quite a task for Herr Steffen, but it has to be done, for of course the reports must be read here once they arrive.

Does anyone else wish to speak to the general debate? If not, may I now ask those friends who agree in principle with the Statutes as Statutes of the General Anthroposophical Society to raise their hands. In the second reading we shall discuss each Paragraph separately. But will those who agree in principle please raise their hands. (They do.)

Will those who do not wish to accept these Statutes in principle please raise their hands. (Nobody does.)

The draft Statutes have thus been accepted in their first reading. (Lively applause.)

We now come to the detailed debate, the second reading, and I shall ask Dr Wachsmuth to read the Statutes Paragraph by Paragraph for this debate in detail.

Dr Wachsmuth reads Paragraph 1 of the Statutes:

‘1. The Anthroposophical Society is to be an association of people whose will it is to nurture the life of the soul, both in the individual and in human society, on the basis of a true knowledge of the spiritual world.’

DR STEINER: Would anyone now like to speak to the content or style and phrasing of this first Paragraph of the Statutes? Dear friends, you have been in possession of the Statutes for more than three days. I am quite sure that you have thought deeply about them.

HERR KAISER: With reference to the expression ‘the life of the soul’ I wondered whether people might not ask: Why not life as a whole? This is one of the things I wanted to say. Perhaps an expression that is more general than ‘of the soul’ could be used.

DR STEINER: Would you like to make a suggestion to help us understand better what you mean?

HERR KAISER: I have only just noticed this expression. I shall have to rely on your help as I can't think of anything better at the moment. I just wanted to point out that the general public might be offended by the idea that we seem to want to go and hide away with our soul in a vague kind of way.

DR STEINER: Paragraph 1 is concerned with the following: Its phrasing is such that it points to a certain nurturing of the life of the soul without saying in detail what the content of the activity of the Anthroposophical Society is to be. I believe that especially at the present time it is of paramount importance to point out that in the Anthroposophical Society the life of the soul is of central concern. That is why it says that the Anthroposophical Society is to be an association of people who cultivate the life of the soul in this way. We can talk about the other words later. The other things it does are stated in the subsequent points. We shall speak more about this. This is the first Paragraph. Even the first Paragraph should say something as concrete as possible. If I am to ask: What is a writer? I shall have to say: A writer is a person who uses language in order to express his thoughts, or something similar. This does not mean to say that this encompasses the whole of his activity as a human being; it merely points out what he is with regard to being a writer. Similarly I think that the first point indicates that the Anthroposophical Society, among all kinds of other things which are expressed in the subsequent points, also cultivates the life of the soul in the individual and in human society in such a way that this cultivation is based on a true knowledge of the spiritual world. I think perhaps Herr Kaiser meant that this point ought to include a kind of survey of all the subsequent points. But this is not how we want to do it. We want to remain concrete all the time. The only thing to be stated in the first point is the manner in which the life of the soul is to be cultivated. After that is stated what else we do and do not want to do. Taken in this way, I don't think there is anything objectionable in this Paragraph. Or is there? If anyone has a better suggestion I am quite prepared to replace ‘of the soul’ with something else. But as you see, Herr Kaiser did think briefly about it and did not come up with any other expression. I have been thinking about it for quite a long time, several weeks, and have also not found any other expression for this Paragraph. It will indeed be very difficult to find a different expression to indicate the general activity of the Anthroposophical Society. For the life of the soul does, after all, encompass everything. On the one hand in practical life we want to cultivate the life of the soul in such a way that the human being can learn to master life at the practical level. On the other hand in scientific life we want to conduct science in such a way that the human soul finds it satisfying. Understood rightly, the expression ‘the life of the soul’ really does express something universal.

Does anyone else want to speak to Paragraph 1? If not, I shall put this point 1 of the Statutes to the vote. Please will those who are in favour of adopting this point raise their hands. This vote refers to this one point only, so you are not committing yourselves to anything else in the Statutes. (The vote is taken.)

If anyone objects to Paragraph 1, please raise your hand. (Nobody does.) Our point 1 is accepted. Please read point 2 of the Statutes.

Dr Wachsmuth reads Paragraph 2 of the Statutes:

‘2. The persons gathered at the Goetheanum in Dornach at Christmas, 1923, both the individuals and the groups represented, form the nucleus of the Society. They are convinced that there exists in our time a genuine science of the spiritual world and that the civilizaton of today is lacking the cultivation of such a science. This cultivation is to be the task of the Anthroposophical Society. It will endeavour to fulfil this task by making the anthroposophical spiritual science cultivated at the Goetheanum in Dornach the centre of its activities, together with all that results from this for brotherhood in human relationships and for the moral and religious as well as the artistic and cultural life in the human being.’

DR STEINER: The first purpose of this Paragraph is to express what it is that unites the individual members of the Anthroposophical Society. As I said in a general discussion a few days ago, we want to build on facts, not on ideas and principles. The first fact to be considered is most gratifying, and that is that eight hundred people are gathered together here in Dornach who can make a declaration. They are not going to make a declaration of ideas and principles to which they intend to adhere. They are going to declare: At the Goetheanum in Dornach there exists a certain fundamental conviction. This fundamental conviction, which is expressed in this point, is essentially shared by all of us and we are therefore the nucleus of the Anthroposophical Society. Today we are not dealing with principles but with human beings. You see these people sitting here in front of you who first entertained this conviction; they are those who have been working out of this conviction for quite some time at the Goetheanum. You have come in order to found the Anthroposophical Society. You declare in the Statutes your agreement with what is being done at the Goetheanum. Thus the Society is formed, humanly formed. Human beings are joining other human beings. Human beings are not declaring their agreement with Paragraphs which can be interpreted in this way or in that way, and so on. Would anyone like to speak to Paragraph 2?

DR UNGER: My dear friends! Considering the very thing that has brought all these people together here we must see this point 2 as something which is expressed as a whole by all those members of the Anthroposophical Society gathered here. Acknowledgement of the very thing which has brought us together is what is important. That is why I wonder whether we might not find a stronger way of expressing the part which says ‘are convinced that there exists in our time a genuine science of the spiritual world ... ’ As it stands it sounds rather as though spiritual science just happens to exist, whereas what every one of us here knows, and what we have all committed ourselves to carry out into the world, has in fact been built up over many years. Would it not be possible to formulate something which expresses the years of work in wide-reaching circles? I am quite aware that Dr Steiner does not wish to see his name mentioned here because this could give a false impression. We ought to be capable of expressing through the Society that this science exists, given by the spiritual world, and that it has been put before all mankind in an extensive literature. This ‘having been put before all mankind’ ought to be more strongly expressed as the thing that unites the Society.

DR STEINER: Dear friends, you can imagine that the formulation of this sentence was quite a headache for me too. Or don't you believe me? Perhaps Dr Unger could make a suggestion.

DR UNGER suggests: ‘represented by a body of literature that has been presented to all mankind over many years.’ This could simply be added to the sentence as it stands.

DR STEINER: Would your suggestion be met by the following formulation: ‘are convinced that there exists in our time a genuine science of the spiritual world elaborated for years past, and in important particulars already published?’

DR UNGER: Yes.

DR STEINER: So we shall put ‘elaborated for years past, and in important particulars already published ...’ Does anyone else wish to speak?

Dr Schmeidel wishes to put ‘for decades past’ instead of ‘for years past’.

DR STEINER: Many people would be able to point out that actually two decades have passed since the appearance of The Philosophy of Freedom.⁴⁹ I do not think there is any need to make the formulation all that strong. If we are really to add anything more in this direction then I would suggest not ‘or decades past’ but ‘for many years past’. Does anyone else wish to speak?

DR PEIPERS: I do not see why Dr Steiner's name should not be mentioned at this point. I should like to make an alternative suggestion: ‘in the spiritual science founded by Dr. Steiner.’

DR STEINER: This is impossible, my dear friends. What has been done here must have the best possible form and it must be possible for us to stand for what we say. It would not do for the world to discover that the draft for these Statutes was written by me and then to find my name appearing here in full. Such a thing would provide the opportunity for the greatest possible misunderstandings and convenient points for attack. I think it is quite sufficient to leave this sentence as general as it is: ‘elaborated for many years past, and in important particulars already published ...’ There is no doubt at all that all these proceedings will become public knowledge and therefore everything must be correct, inwardly as well.

Would anyone else like to speak?

HERR VAN LEER: The Goetheanum is mentioned here; but we have no Goetheanum.

DR STEINER: We are not of the opinion that we have no Goetheanum. My dear Herr van Leer, we are of the opinion that we have no building, but that as soon as possible we shall have one. We are of the opinion that the Goetheanum continues to exist. For this very reason, and also out of the deep needs of our heart, it was necessary last year, while the flames were still burning, to continue with the work here on the very next day, without, as Herr Steffen said, having slept. For we had to prove to the world that we stand here as a Goetheanum in the soul, as a Goetheanum of soul, which of course must receive an external building as soon as possible.

HERR VAN LEER: But in the outside world, or in twenty years' time, it will be said: In the year 1923 there was no Goetheanum in Dornach.

DR STEINER: I believe we really cannot speak like this. We can indeed say: The building remained in the soul. Is it not important, dear Herr van Leer, to make the point as strongly as possible that here, as everywhere else, we place spiritual things in the foreground? And that what we see with our physical eyes therefore does not prevent us from saying ‘at the Goetheanum’? The Goetheanum does stand before our spiritual eyes!

HERR VAN LEER: Yes indeed.

DR STEINER: Does anyone else wish to speak to Paragraph 2?

HERR LEINHAS: I only want to ask whether it is advisable to leave in the words ‘in important particulars already published’. Newspapers publish the fact that we do, actually, have some secret literature such as those cycles which have not yet been published. Keeping these things secret will now be made impossible by the Statutes. Is it right to indicate at this point the literature which has so far not been published?

DR STEINER: Actually, this is not even what is meant. All that is meant is that there are also other truths which are not included in the lecture cycles, that is they have never yet been made public, not even in the cycles. I think we can remedy this by saying: ‘elaborated for years past and in important particulars already published’ or ‘also already published.’ This should take account of this. The ‘already’ will take account of this objection. Would anyone else like to speak to Paragraph 2 of the Statutes?

HERR INGERÖ: I have a purely practical question: There are individual members here as well as representatives of groups. Obviously the groups who have sent representatives will agree to these Statutes. But otherwise will the Statutes have to be formally ratified when we get home? Will the members have to be presented with all this once again after which we would write to you to say that the Statutes have been adopted?

DR STEINER: No. I have assumed that delegates from individual groups have arrived with a full mandate so that they can make valid decisions on behalf of their group. That is what is meant by this sentence. (Applause and agreement.) This was also my interpretation in regard to all the different foundation meetings of the national groups at which I was present. It will be quite sufficient if the delegates of the national groups give their agreement on the basis of the full mandate vested in them. Otherwise we should be unable to adopt the Statutes fully at this meeting.

DR KOLISKO: I would like to ask about the fact that an Anthroposophical Society did exist already, known publicly as the Anthroposophical Society, yet now it appears to be an entirely new inauguration; there is no mention in Paragraph 2 of what was, up till now, the Anthroposophical Society in a way which would show that this is now an entirely new foundation. I wonder whether people might not question why there is no mention of the Anthroposophical Society which has existed for the last ten years but only of something entirely new.

DR STEINER: I too have thought about this. While the Statutes were being printed I wondered whether a note might be added to this point: ‘The General Anthroposophical Society founded here was preceded by the Anthroposophical Society founded in 1912.’ Something like that. I shall suggest the full text of this note at the end of this detailed debate. For the moment let us stick to the Paragraph itself. I shall add this as a note to the Statutes. I believe very firmly that it is necessary to become strongly aware of what has become noticeable in the last few days and of what I mentioned a day or two ago when I said that we want to link up once again where we attempted to link up in the year 1912. It is necessary to become strongly aware of this, so a strong light does in fact need to be shed on the fact of the foundation of the Anthroposophical Society here and now during this present Christmas Conference. I therefore do not want to make a history lesson out of the Statutes by pointing out a historical fact, but would prefer to include this in a note, the text of which I shall suggest. I think this will be sufficient. Does anyone else wish to speak about the formulation of Paragraph 2? If not, please would those dear friends who are in favour of the adoption of this Paragraph 2 raise their hands. (They do.) Please would those who are not in favour raise their hands. Paragraph 2 is adopted herewith. Please now read Paragraph 3.

Dr Wachsmuth reads Paragraph 3:

‘3. The persons gathered in Dornach as the nucleus of the Society recognize and endorse the view of the leadership at the Goetheanum: “Anthroposophy, as fostered at the Goetheanum, leads to results which can serve every human being as a stimulus to spiritual life, whatever his nation, social standing or religion. They can lead to a social life genuinely built on brotherly love. No special degree of academic learning is required to make them one's own and to found one's life upon them, but only an open-minded human nature. Research into these results, however, as well as competent evaluation of them, depends upon spiritual-scientific training, which is to be acquired step by step. These results are in their own way as exact as the results of genuine natural science. When they attain general recognition in the same way as these, they will bring about comparable progress in all spheres of life, not only in the spiritual but also in the practical realm.” ’

DR STEINER: Please note, dear friends, that something has been left out in the printed version. The Paragraph should read as follows: ‘The persons gathered in Dornach as the nucleaus of the Society recognize and endorse the view of the leadership at the Goetheanum:’ What now follows, right to the end of the Paragraph, should be within quotation marks. This is to do with my having said that here we ought to build on the purely human element. Consider the difference from what was said earlier. In the past it was said: The Anthroposophical Society is an association of people who recognize the brotherhood of man without regard to nationality—and so on, all the various points. This is an acceptance of principles and smacks strongly of a dogmatic confession. But a dogmatic confession such as this must be banned from a society of the most modern kind; and the Anthroposophical Society we are founding here is to be a society of the most modern kind. The passage shown here within quotation marks expresses the view of the leadership at the Goetheanum, and in Paragraph 3 one is reminded of one's attitude of agreement with the view of the leadership at the Goetheanum. We are not dealing with a principle. Instead we have before us human beings who hold this conviction and this view. And we wish to join with these people to form the Anthroposophical Society. The most important sentence is the one which states that the results, and that means all the results, of spiritual science can be equally understood by every human being and human soul but that, in contrast, for an evaluation of the research results a training is needed which is to be cultivated in the School of Spiritual Science within its three Classes. It is, then, not stated that people must accept brotherhood without regard to nation or race and so on, but it is stated that it is the conviction of those who up till now have been entrusted with the leadership at the Goetheanum that what is cultivated there leads to this; it leads to brotherhood and whatever else is mentioned here. So by agreeing to this Paragraph one is agreeing with this conviction. This is what I wanted to say by way of further interpretation.

DR TRIMLER: For the purpose of openness would it not be necessary here to state who constitutes the leadership at the Goetheanum? Otherwise ‘the leadership at the Goetheanum’ remains an abstract term.

DR STEINER: In a following Paragraph of the Statutes the leadership of the School of Spiritual Science is mentioned, and at another point in the Statutes the Vorstand will be mentioned; the names of the members of the Vorstand will be stated. Presumably this will be sufficient for what you mean? However, the naming of the Vorstand will probably be in the final point of the Statutes, where it will be stated that the Vorstand and the leadership at the Goetheanum are one and the same. So if you thought it would be more fitting, we could say:

‘The persons gathered in Dornach as the nucleus of the Society recognize and endorse the view of the leadership at the Goetheanum which is represented by the Vorstand nominated by this foundation gathering.’ This could of course be added. So it would read: ‘recognize and endorse the view of the leadership at the Goetheanum which is represented by the Vorstand nominated by this foundation gathering’. This will do. Who else would like to speak?

HERR LEINHAS: Does this constitute a contradiction with point 7 where it says that Rudolf Steiner organizes the School of Spiritual Science and appoints his collaborators and his possible successor? Supposing you were not to choose as your collaborators those who are in the Vorstand as it stands at the moment?

DR STEINER: Why should there be a contradiction? You see, it is like this, as I have already said: Here, as the leadership at the Goetheanum, we shall have the Vorstand. And the Vorstand as it now stands will be joined, in the capacity of advisers, by the leaders of the different Sections of the School of Spiritual Science. In future, this will be the leadership of the Goetheanum. Do you still find this contradictory?

HERR LEINHAS: No.

HERR SCHMIDT: I have one worry: Someone reading the sentence ‘Research into these results, however, as well as competent evaluation of them, depends upon spiritual-scientific training ... ’ might gain the impression that something is being drummed into people.

DR STEINER: What is being drummed in?

HERR SCHMIDT: It is possible for people to gain this impression. Personally I would prefer it if we could say: ‘depends upon spiritual-scientific training, which is to be acquired step by step, and which is suggested in the published works of Dr Steiner’, so that the impression is not aroused of something that is not quite above-board or not quite comprehensible for outsiders.

DR STEINER: But this would eliminate the essential point which must be included because of the very manner in which the lecture cycles must be treated. What we have to achieve, as I have already said, is the following: We must bring it about that judgments can be justified, not in the sense of a logical justification but in the sense that they must be based on a solid foundation, so that a situation can arise—not as regards a recognition of the results but as regards an assessment of the research—in which there are people who are experts in the subject matter and others who are not. In the subsequent Paragraph we dissociate ourselves from those who are not experts in the sense that we refuse to enter into any discussion with them. As I said, we simply want to bring about this difference in the same way that it exists in the field of the integration of partial differential equations. In this way we can work at a moral level against the possibility of someone saying: I have read Dr Steiner's book Knowledge of the Higher Worlds and therefore I am fully competent to assess everything else that has been published. This is what must be avoided. Therefore the very point to be made is that on the basis of my published books it is not possible to form a judgment on all the other things that are discussed above and beyond these. It would be wrong if we were not to refuse such judgments.

Herr Schmidt feels that he has been misunderstood.

DR STEINER: It says here: ‘Research into these results, however, as well as competent evaluation of them, depends upon spiritual-scientific training, which is to be acquired step by step.’ Why is this not clear? It does not mean that anything is drummed into anybody but rather that as with everything in the world you have to learn something before you can allow yourself to form a judgment. What we are rejecting is the assumption that anthroposophical matters can be judged from other points of view. There is a history behind this too. Let me tell you about it, for all these formulations are based on the experience of decades, as I have already said. I once gave a cycle of lectures in Bremens⁵⁰ to a certain group of people who were permitted to attend not so much on the basis of their intellectual capacity as on that of their moral maturity. Now there was a very well-known philosopher, a Platonist, who reckoned that anyone who had read the whole of Plato ought to be able to form a judgment about Anthroposophy. On this basis he sent people to me about whom he said: These are good philosophers so they ought to be allowed to attend, since they are capable of forming judgments. Of course they were less capable of forming judgments than were some quite simple, humble people whose very mood of soul made them capable of forming judgments. I had to exclude them. So it is important that particularly in the case of this Paragraph we are extremely accurate. And it would not be accurate if we were to say that the necessary schooling can be attained on the basis of my published books. The interpretation of what constitutes the necessary schooling is stated in Paragraph 8: ‘All publications of the Society shall be public, in the same sense as are those of other public societies. The publications of the School of Spiritual Science’—let us say in future the cycles—‘will form no exception as regards this public character; however, the leadership of the School reserves the right to deny in advance the validity of any judgment of these publications which is not based on the same training from which they have been derived. Consequently they will regard as justified no judgment which is not based on an appropriate preliminary training, as is also the common practice in the recognized scientific world. Thus’ and so on. So you see, the requirement in Paragraph 3 must accord with that in Paragraph 8. If you have another suggestion, please go ahead. But the one you suggested just now is quite impossible.

HERR SCHMIDT: Perhaps there could be a reference to Paragraph 8 at this point, for instance in the form of a note which says that the published books reveal the principles of the schooling.

DR STEINER: This could certainly be pointed out in a note. But this note belongs at the point where it is stated that all publications shall be public, including the books about the conditions of the schooling. That is where such a note should be put. But I thought that saying that all books shall be public, all publications shall be public, would include the fact that all books about the schooling would be public.

FRÄULEIN X: Ought it not to say: anthroposophical spiritual science; ‘as well as competent evaluation of them, depends upon anthroposophical spiritual-scientific training?’

DR STEINER: What you want to bring out here is made quite clear in Paragraph 8 by the reference to Dornach. If we say ‘anthroposophical’ we have once again an abstract word. I especially want to express here that everything is concrete. Thus the spiritual-scientific training meant—it is shown in this Statute—is that represented in Dornach. If we say anthroposophical spiritual science we are unprotected, for of course anyone can give the name of Anthroposophy to whatever he regards as spiritual science.

HERR VAN LEER: I would like the final sentence to be changed from ‘not only in the spiritual but also in the practical realm’ to: ‘in the spiritual as well as in the practical realm.’

DR STEINER: I formulated this sentence like this because I thought of it as being based on life. This is what I thought: It is easy for people to admit in what is said here that it can constitute the foundation for progress in the spiritual realm. This will meet with less contradiction—there will be some, but less—than that Anthroposophy can also lead to something in the practical realm. This is more likely to be contradicted. That is why I formulated this sentence in this way. Otherwise the two realms are placed side by side as being of equal value in such an abstract manner: ‘in the spiritual as well as in the practical realm’. My formulation is based on life. Amongst anthroposophists there are very many who will easily admit that a very great deal can be achieved in the spiritual realm. But many people, also anthroposophists, do not agree that things can also be achieved in the practical realm. That is why I formulated the sentence in this way.

MR KAUFMANN: Please forgive me, but it seems to me that the contradiction between Paragraph 3 and Paragraph 7 pointed out by Herr Leinhas is still there. Paragraph 7 says: ‘The organizing of the School of Spiritual Science is, to begin with, the responsibility of Rudolf Steiner, who will appoint his collaborators and his possible successor.’ I was under the impression that the Vorstand suggested by Dr Steiner has been elected en bloc by the present gathering. But now if Paragraph 3 calls the Vorstand, elected at the foundation meeting, the leadership at the Goetheanum, this seems to contradict Paragraph 7. I had understood Paragraph 3 to mean the leadership at the Goetheanum to be Dr Steiner and such persons as he has already nominated or will nominate who, in their confidence in him as the leadership at the Goetheanum, in accordance with Paragraph 7, hold the views stated within quotation marks in Paragraph 3 which are recognized positively by those present at the meeting. But if this is carried out by the Vorstand of the Anthroposophical Society elected here, then this seems to me to be an apparent contradiction, at least in the way it is put.

DR STEINER: I should like to ask when was the Vorstand elected? When was the Vorstand elected?

MR KAUFMANN: I was under the impression that it was accepted when you proposed it; and the agreement of the meeting was expressed very clearly.

DR STEINER: You must understand that I do not regard this as an election, and that is why just now I did not suggest: ‘the leadership at the Goetheanum which is represented by the Vorstand elected by this foundation gathering’ but ‘formed’.

MR KAUFMANN: Is this Vorstand identical with that mentioned in Paragraph 7?

DR STEINER: Surely the Vorstand cannot be identical with my single person if it consists of five different members!

Mr Kaufmann asks once again.

DR STEINER: No, it is not identical. Paragraph 7 refers to the establishment of the School of Spiritual Science which I sketched earlier on. We shall name the Vorstand in a final Paragraph. But I regard this Vorstand as being absolutely bound up with the whole constitution of the Statutes. I have not suggested this Vorstand as a group of people who will merely do my bidding but, as I have said, as people of whom each one will bear the full responsibility for what he or she does. The significance for me of this particular formation of this Vorstand is that in future it will consist of the very people of whom I myself believe that work can be done with them in the right way. So the Vorstand is in the first place the Vorstand of the Society. What is mentioned in Paragraph 7 is the leadership of the School of Spiritual Science. These are two things. The School of Spiritual Science will function in the future with myself as its leader. And the leaders of the different Sections will be what might be called the Collegium of the School. And then there will be the Vorstand of the Anthroposophical Society which you now know and which will be complemented by those leaders of the different Sections of the School of Spiritual Science who are not anyway members of the Vorstand. Is this not comprehensible?

MR KAUFMANN: Yes, but in the way it is put it seems to me that the contradiction is still there.

DR STEINER: What is contradictory?

MR KAUFMANN: Reading the words, you gain the impression that the Vorstand has been nominated by you personally. This would contradict Paragraph 7.

DR STEINER: Yes, but why is this not sufficient? It has nothing to do with Paragraph 7. Paragraph 7 refers only to the preceding Paragraph 5, the School of Spiritual Science. What we are now settling has nothing to do with Paragraph 7. We are only concerned here with the fact that the Vorstand has been formed. It has been formed in the most free manner imaginable. I said that I would take on the leadership of the Society. But I shall only do so if the Society grants me this Vorstand. The Society has granted me this Vorstand, so it is now formed. The matter seems to me to be as accurate as it possibly can be. Of course the worst thing that could possibly happen would be for the Statutes to express that the Vorstand had been ‘nominated’ by me. And this is indeed not the case in view of the manner in which the whole Society expressed its agreement, as occurred here.

HERR KAISER: Please excuse me for being so immodest as to speak once again. As regards Paragraph 1,⁵¹ the only thing I would suggest is that you simply say ‘life’ and nothing else; not ‘intellectual life’ and not ‘life of the soul’, but simply ‘life’.

With regard to point 3, I would not want to alter a single word in the version which Dr Steiner has given with almost mathematical precision. But in order to meet the concern of our respected friend I would merely suggest the omission of the words ‘which is to be acquired step by step’.

DR STEINER: Yes, but then we do not express what ought to be expressed, namely that the schooling is indeed to be acquired step by step. We shall print on the cycles: First Class, Second Class, Third Class. And apart from this it is necessary to express in some way that there are stages within the schooling. These stages are quite simply a fact of spiritual science. Otherwise, you will agree, we have no way of distinguishing between schooling and dilettantism. Someone who has only just achieved the first stage of the schooling is a dilettante for the second and third stage. So I am afraid we cannot avoid wording it in this way.

DR UNGER: I should like to suggest that we conclude the debate about this third point.

A SPEAKER: I believe we should agree to recognize the formulation of Paragraph 1 as it has emerged from the discussion. ANOTHER: I should only like to make a small suggestion. A word that could be improved: the word ‘the same’^A in ‘the same progress’ in the last sentence of Paragraph 3. I would like to see it deleted and replaced by ‘also progress’.

DR STEINER: We could do this, of course. But we would not be—what shall I say?—using language in as meaningful a way. ‘Gleich’ is such a beautiful word, and one which in the German language, just in this kind of context, has gradually come to be used increasingly sloppily. It would be better to express ourselves in a way which still gives a certain fragrance to what we want to say. Wherever we can it is better to use concrete expressions rather than abstract ones. You see, I do actually mean ‘the same progress as in the other realms’. So that it reads: ‘These results are in their own way as exact as the results of genuine natural science. When they attain general recognition in the same way as these, they will bring about the same progress in all spheres ...’

Of course I do not want to insist on this. But I do think it is not at all a bad thing to retain, or bring back to recognition, a word in the German language which was originally so resonant, instead of replacing it by an abstract expression. We are anyway, unfortunately, even in language on the way to abstraction.

Now we are in the following situation: Since an application to close the debate has been made, I ought to adjourn any further debate, if people still want to speak about Paragraph 3, till tomorrow. We should then not be able to vote on this Paragraph today. Please understand that I am obliged to ask you to vote on the application to close the debate. In the interests of proper procedure, please would those friends who wish the conclusion of the debate indicate their agreement.

DR UNGER: I only meant the discussion on point 3. We are in the middle of the detailed debate.

DR STEINER: Will those who are opposed to closing the debate please raise their hands. I am sorry, that is not possible! We shall now vote on the acceptance or rejection of Paragraph 3. Will those respected friends who are in favour of adopting point 3 please raise their hands. (They do.)

Will those respected friends who are against it please raise their hands. (Nobody does.) Point 3 has thus been adopted at the second reading. Tomorrow we shall continue with the detailed debate, beginning with point 4.

We shall gather, as we did today, after the lecture by Herr Jan Stuten on the subject of music and the spiritual world. So the continuation of the detailed debate will take place in tomorrow's meeting, which will begin at the same time as today. This afternoon at 4.30 there will be a performance of the Three Kings play.

• 46. See Rudolf Steiner Die Konstitution der Allgemeinen Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft und der Freien Hochschule für Geisteswissenschaft—Der Wiederaufbau des Goetheanum. GA 260a. Different parts of this collection are available in English under the following titles: Anthroposophical Leading Thoughts, Rudolf Steiner Press, London 1973; The Life, Nature, and Cultivation of Anthroposophy, Anthroposophical Society in Great Britain, London 1975; The Constitution of the School of Spiritual Science, Anthroposophical Society in Great Britain, London 1964.
• 47. On 8 December 1923. See Note 22.
• 48. See Note 46.
• 49. Rudolf Steiner The Philosophy of Freedom, Rudolf Steiner Press, London 1979. This fundamental work was first published in 1894.
• 50. Rudolf Steiner never gave a cycle of lectures in Bremen. The shorthand report definitely states ‘Bremen’, but this might have been a mishearing of ‘Berlin’. In 1904 Rudolf Steiner did give a cycle of lectures in Berlin on German mysticism and its precursors. Three of these, on ‘Platonische Mystik und Docta ignorantia’ (Platonic Mysticism and docta ignorantia) are included in Rudolf Steiner Über Philosophie, Geschichte und Literatur. Darstellungen an der Arbeiterbildungsschule und der Freien Hochschule in Berlin 1901 to 1905. (On Philosophy, History and Literature). GA 51. The references made at this point in the Meeting could be taken to refer to these lectures.
• 51. See Paragraph 1 of the Statutes.
• A. The German word in Paragraph 3 is ‘gleich’, which is translated as ‘comparable’ in the official translation into English of the Statutes. For the purpose of the present passage in the discussion, the word ‘same’ has been substituted. It is an equally appropriate rendering for ‘gleich’ and makes the discussion as translated here more comprehensible. (Tr. )

The announcement of the “Section for the Spiritual Striving of Youth” at the Goetheanum has met with an encouraging response from young people. Representatives of the “Free Anthroposophical Society” and younger members living at the Goetheanum have expressed to the Executive Council of the Anthroposophical Society their wholehearted willingness to take part in the Council's intentions.

I see in both expressions valuable starting points for a good part of the work of our Society. If it can build a bridge between older and younger people of our age, then it will accomplish an important task.

What can be read between the lines of the two letters can be put into words: our youth speaks in a tone whose timbre is new in the development of humanity. One feels that the soul's eye is not directed towards the continuation of what has been inherited from the past and can be increased in the present. It is turned towards the irruption of a new life from the regions where not time is developed but the eternal is revealed.

If the older person wants to be understood by the youth today, he must let the eternal prevail as the driving force in his relationship to the temporal. And he must do this in a way that the youth understands.

It is said that young people do not want to engage with old age, do not want to accept anything from the insight gained from it, from the experience matured by it. - The older person today expresses his displeasure at the behavior of young people.

It is true: young people separate themselves from old age; they want to be among themselves. They do not want to listen to what comes from old age.

One can become concerned about this fact. Because these young people will one day grow old. They will not be able to continue their behavior into old age. They want to be really young. They ask how you can be “really young”. They will no longer be able to do that when they themselves have entered old age.

Therefore, the older person says, youth should abandon its arrogance and look up to old age again, to see the goal towards which its mind's eye must be directed.

By saying this, one thinks that it is up to youth not to be attracted to the older person.

But young people could do nothing other than look up to the older person and take them as a role model if they were really “old”. For the human soul, and especially the young soul, is such that it turns to what is foreign to it in order to unite it with itself.

Now, however, young people today do not see something in the older person that seems both alien to them as a human being and worth appropriating. This is because the older person of today is not really “old”. He has absorbed the content of much, he can talk about much. But he has not brought this much to human maturity. He has grown older in years; but in his soul he has not grown with his years. He still speaks from the old brain as he spoke from the young. Youth senses this. It does not feel “maturity” when it is with older people, but rather its own young state of mind in the aged bodies. And so it turns away, because this does not appear to it to be truth.

Through decades of knowledge in the field of knowledge, older people have developed the opinion that one cannot know anything about the spiritual in the things and processes of the world. When young people hear this, they must get the feeling that the older person has nothing to say to them, because they can get the “not knowing” themselves; they will only listen to the old person if the “knowledge” comes from him. Talking about “not knowing” is tolerable when it is done with freshness, with youthful freshness. But to hear about the “not knowing” when it comes to the brain that has grown old, that deserts the soul, especially the young soul.

Today, young people turn away from older people not because they have grown old, but because they have remained young, because they have not understood how to grow old in the right way. Older people today need this self-knowledge.

But one can only grow old in the right way if one allows the spirit in the soul to unfold. If this is the case, then one has in an aged body that which is in harmony with it. Then one will be able to offer young people not only what time has developed in the body, but what the eternal reveals out of the spirit.

Wherever there is a sincere search for spiritual experience, there can be found the field in which young people can come together with older people. It is an empty phrase to say: you have to be young with young people. No, as an older person among young people, you have to understand the right way to be old.

Young people like to criticize what comes from older people. That is their right. Because one day they will have to carry that to which the old have not yet brought in the progress of humanity. But one is not a real older person if one merely criticizes as well. Young people will put up with this for a while because they do not need to be annoyed by the contradiction; but in the end they will get tired of the “old young” because their voice is too rough and criticism has more life in youthful voices.

In its search for the spirit, anthroposophy seeks to find a field in which young and old people can happily come together. The Executive Council of the Anthroposophical Society can be pleased that its announcement has been received by young people in the way that it has been. But the active members of the Anthroposophical Society will not leave the Executive Council in the lurch either. Because at the same time as I am receiving approval from one side, I am also receiving a letter from the other side that contains words to which anyone who belongs to the Anthroposophical Society with their heart must listen. “The day may come when we ‘young people’ will have to break away from the Anthroposophical Society, just as you once had to break away from the Theosophical Society.”

This day would come if we in the Anthroposophical Society are unable to realize in the near future what is meant by the announcement of a “Youth Section”. Hopefully the active members of the Anthroposophical Society will go in the direction of the Executive Council at the Goetheanum, so that the day may come when it can be said of the “young”: We must unite more and more closely with Anthroposophy.

This time I have spoken to the older members of the Anthroposophical Society about the “youth”; in the next issue I would like to tell the youth what is on my mind.

The delay in arriving yesterday prevented me from speaking to you, as was my wish, about what has been happening in the Anthroposophical Society since the Christmas Foundation Meeting at the Goetheanum. As the purpose and intentions of that Meeting will have become known to friends through the News Sheet, I propose to speak briefly about the most important points only and then to continue with more intimate studies concerning the significance of this Christmas Foundation Meeting for the Anthroposophical Society.

The Christmas Meeting was intended to be a fundamental renewal, a new foundation of the Anthroposophical Society. Up to the time of the Christmas Foundation Meeting I was always able to make a distinction between the Anthroposophical Movement and the Anthroposophical Society. The latter represented as it were the earthly projection of something that exists in the spiritual worlds in a certain stream of the spiritual life. What was taught here on the Earth and communicated as anthroposophical wisdom—this was the reflection of the stream flowing in spiritual worlds through the present phase of the evolution of mankind. The Anthroposophical Society was then a kind of ‘administrative organ’ for the anthroposophical knowledge flowing through the Anthroposophical Movement.

As time went on, this did not turn out satisfactorily for the true cultivation of Anthroposophy. It therefore became necessary that I myself—until then I had taught Anthroposophy without having any official connection with the Anthroposophical Society—should take over, together with the Dornach Executive, the leadership of the Anthroposophical Society as such. The Anthroposophical Movement and the Anthroposophical Society have thereby become one. Since the Christmas Foundation Meeting in Dornach, the opposite of what went before must be recognised: no distinction is to be made henceforward between Anthroposophical Movement and Anthroposophical Society, for they are now identical. And those who stand by my side as the Executive at the Goetheanum are to be regarded as a kind of esoteric Executive. Thus what comes about through this Executive may be characterised as ‘Anthroposophy in deed and practice,’ whereas formerly it could only be a matter of the administration of the anthroposophical teachings.

This means, however, that the whole Anthroposophical Society must gradually be placed upon a new basis—a basis which makes it possible for esotericism to stream through the Society—and the essence of the Anthroposophical Society in the future will be constituted by the due response and attitude on the part of those who desire to be Anthroposophists. This will have to be understood in the General Anthroposophical Society which henceforward will be an entirely open Society—so that, as was announced at Christmas, the Lecture-Courses too will be available for everyone, prefixed by the clauses laying down a kind of spiritual boundary-line.

The prosperity and fruitful development of the anthroposophical cause will depend upon a true understanding of the esoteric trend which, from now onwards, will be implicit in the Anthroposophical Movement. Care will be taken to ensure that the Anthroposophical Society is kept free from bureaucratic and formal administrative measures and that the sole basis everywhere is the human element to be cultivated within the Society. Naturally, the Executive at the Goetheanum will have much to administer: but the administration will not be the essential. The essential will be that the Executive at the Goetheanum will act in this or that matter out of its own initiative. And what the Executive does, what in many ways it has already begun to do—that will form the content of the Anthroposophical Society.

Thereby a great many harmful tendencies that have arisen in the Society during recent years will be eliminated; difficulties will be in store for many Members, because all kinds of institutions, founded out of good-will, as the saying goes, did not prove equal to what they claimed to be and have really side-tracked the Anthroposophical Movement. Henceforward the Anthroposophical Movement will, in the human sense, be that which flows through the Anthroposophical Society.

The more deeply this is realised and understood the better it will be for the Anthroposophical Movement. And I am able to say the following.—Because that impulse prevailed among those who gathered at the Goetheanum at Christmas, it has been possible since then to introduce a quite different note into the Anthroposophical Movement. And to my deep satisfaction I have found heartfelt response to this in the different places I have so far been able to visit. It can be said that what was undertaken at Christmas was in a certain sense a hazard. For a certain eventuality existed: because the leadership of the Anthroposophical Society was now combined with the presentation of the spiritual teachings, those Powers in the spiritual world who lead the Anthroposophical Movement might have withdrawn their guiding hands. It may now be said that this did not happen, but that the contrary is true: these spiritual Powers are responding with an ever greater measure of grace, with even greater bounty, to what is streaming through the Anthroposophical Movement. In a certain sense a pledge has been made to the spiritual world. This pledge will be unswervingly fulfilled and it will be seen that in the future things will happen in accordance with it. And so not only in respect of the Anthroposophical Movement but also in respect of the Anthroposophical Society, responsibility is laid upon the Dornach Executive.

I have only spoken these few preliminary words in order to lead up to something that it is now possible to say and is of such a nature that it can become part of the content of the Anthroposophical Movement. I want to speak about something that has to do with the karma of the Anthroposophical Society itself.

When we think to-day of how the Anthroposophical Society exists in the world as the embodiment of the Anthroposophical Movement, we see a number of human beings coming together within the Anthroposophical Society. Any discerning person realises that there are also other human beings in the world—one finds them everywhere—whose karma predisposes them to come to the Anthroposophical Society but, to begin with, something holds them back, they do not immediately, and in the full sense, find their way into it—though eventually they will certainly do so, either in this or in the next incarnation. We must, however, bear the following in mind: Those human beings who through their karma come to the Anthroposophical Movement are predestined for this Movement.

Now everything that happens here in the physical world is foreshadowed in spiritual worlds. Nothing happens in the physical world that has not been prepared for spiritually, in the spiritual world. And this is the significant thing: What is coming to pass here on the Earth in the twentieth century as the gathering together of a number of human beings in the Anthroposophical Society, was prepared for during the first half of the nineteenth century when the souls of those human beings who are now in incarnation and are coming together in large numbers, were united in the spiritual realms before they descended into the physical world. In the spiritual worlds at that time a kind of cult or ritual was lived through by a number of souls who were working together—a cult which instigated those longings that have arisen in the souls of those who now, in their present incarnations, come to the Anthroposophical Society. And whoever has a gift for recognising such souls in their bodies, does indeed recognise them as having worked together with him in the first half of the nineteenth century, when, in the spiritual world, mighty, cosmic Imaginations were presented of what I will call the new Christianity. Up there—as in their bodies now—the souls were united in order to gather into themselves out of what I will call the Cosmic Substantiality and the Cosmic Forces, that which, in mighty pictures, was of cosmic significance. It was the prelude of what was to become anthroposophical teaching and practice here on the Earth. By far the majority of the Anthroposophists who now sit together with one another would be able, if they perceived this, to say: Yes, we know one another, we were together in spiritual worlds, and in a super-sensible cult we experienced mighty, cosmic Imaginations together!

All these souls had gathered together in the first half of the nineteenth century in order to prepare for what, on Earth, was to become the Anthroposophical Movement. In reality it was all a preparation for what I have often called the ‘stream of Michael,’ which appeared in the last third of the nineteenth century and is the most important of all spiritual intervention in the modern phase of human evolution. The Michael stream—to prepare the ways for Michael's earthly-heavenly working—such was the task of the souls who were together in the spiritual world.

These souls, however, were drawn together by experiences they had undergone through long, long ages—through centuries, nay, in many cases through thousands of years. And among them two main groups are to be distinguished. The one group experienced the form of Christianity which during the first centuries of the Christian era had spread in Southern Europe and also, to some extent, in Middle Europe. This Christianity continued to present to its believers a Christ conceived of as the mighty Divine Messenger who had come down from the Sun to the Earth in order thereafter to work among men. With greater or less understanding, Christ was thus pictured by the Christians of the first centuries as the mighty ‘Sun God.’

But throughout Christendom at this time the faculty of instinctive clairvoyance once possessed by men was fading away. Then they could no longer see in the Sun the great spiritual kingdom at whose centre the Christ once had His abode. The ancient clairvoyant perception of the descent of the Christ to the Earth became superseded by mere tradition—tradition that He had come down from the Sun to the Earth, uniting Himself with Jesus of Nazareth in the physical body. The majority of Christians now retained little more than the concept that once upon a time a Being had lived in Palestine—Christ Jesus—whose nature now began to be the subject of controversy. Had this Being been fully God? Or was He both God and Man and, if so, how was the Divinity related to the Humanity? These questions, with others arising from them, were the problems and the causes of strife in the Church Councils. Eventually the mass of the people had nothing left to them but the Decrees issued by Rome.

There were, however, among the Christians certain individuals who came more and more to be regarded as heretics. They still preserved as a living remembrance the tradition of the Christ as a Being of the Sun. To them, a Sun Being, by nature foreign to this Earth, was once incarnate. He descended to existence in this physical, material world. Until the seventh and eighth centuries these individuals found themselves placed in conditions which caused them to say: In what is now making its appearance in the guise of Christianity there is no longer any real understanding of the nature of the Christ! These “heretics” became, in effect, weary of Christianity. There were indeed such souls who in the early Christian centuries until the seventh and eighth centuries passed through the gate of death in a mood of weariness in regard to Christianity. Whether or not they had been in incarnation in the intervening period, the incarnation of importance for them was that which occurred in the early Christian centuries. Then, from the seventh and eighth centuries onwards, they were preparing in the spiritual world for that great and powerful action of which I told you when I said that in the first half of the nineteenth century a kind of cult took place in the super-sensible world. These individuals participated in this cult and they belong to the one group of souls who have found their way into the Anthroposophical Society.

The other group of souls had their last important incarnation in the latest pre-Christian—not the first Christian—centuries, and in the ancient Pagan Mysteries prior to Christianity they had still been able to gaze with clairvoyant vision into the spiritual world. They had learnt in these ancient Mysteries that the Christ would come down one day to the Earth. They did not live on Earth during the early centuries of Christianity but remained in the super-sensible worlds and only after the seventh century descended to incarnations of importance. These are souls who, as it were from the vantage-point of the super-sensible, witnessed the entry of the Christ into earthly culture and civilisation. They longed for Christianity. And at the same time they were resolute in a desire to work actively and vigorously to bring into the world a truly cosmic, truly spiritual form of Christianity.

These two groups united with the other souls in that super-sensible cult during the first half of the nineteenth century. It was like a great cosmic, spiritual festival, lasting for many decades as a spiritual happening in the world immediately bordering on the physical. There they were—the souls who then descended, having worked together in the super-sensible world to prepare for their next incarnation on the Earth, those who were weary of Christianity and those who were yearning for it. Towards the end of the nineteenth century they descended to incarnation and when they had arrived on Earth they were ready, having thus made preparation, to come into the Anthroposophical Society.

All this, as I have said, had been in course of preparation for many centuries. Here on the Earth, Christianity had developed in such a way that the Gospels had gradually come to be interpreted as if they spoke merely of some kind of abstract “heights” from which a Being—Jesus of Nazareth—came down to proclaim the Christ. Men had no longer any inkling of how the world of stars as the expression of the Spiritual is connected with the spiritual life; hence it was also impossible for them to understand what is signified by saying: Christ, as a divine Sun Hero, came down into Jesus in order that He might share the destiny of men. It is precisely those facts of most significance that escape the ordinary student of history. Above all, there is no understanding of those who are called “heretics.” Moreover, among the souls who came down to Earth as the twentieth century approached—the souls weary of Christianity and those longing for it—there is, for the most part, no self-recognition. The “heretic-souls” do not recognise themselves.

By the seventh and eighth centuries such traditions as had been kept alive by the heretics who had become weary of Christianity had largely disappeared. The knowledge was sustained in small circles only, where until the twelfth century—the middle of the Middle Ages—it was preserved and cultivated. These circles were composed of Teachers, divinely blessed Teachers, who still cultivated something of this ancient knowledge of spiritual Christianity, cosmological Christianity. There were some amongst them, too, who had directly received communications from the past and in them a kind of Inspiration arose; thus they were able to experience a reflection—whether strong or faint, a true image—of what in the first Christian centuries men had been able to behold under the influence of a mighty Inspiration of the descent of the Sun God leading to the Mystery of Golgotha.

And so two main streams were there. One, as we have seen, is the stream which derives directly from the heretical movements of the first Christian centuries. Those belonging to it were fired still by what had been alive in the Platonism of ancient Greece. So fired were they that when through the tidings emanating from ancient times their inner vision opened, they were always able, under the influence of a genuine, albeit faint Inspiration, to perceive the descent of the Christ to the Earth and to glimpse His work on the Earth. This was the Platonic stream.

For the other stream a different destiny was in store. To this stream belonged those souls above all who had their last important incarnation in the pre-Christian era and who had glimpsed Christianity as something ordained for the future. The task of this stream was to prepare the intellect for that epoch which had its beginning in the first half of the fifteenth century. This was to be the epoch when the human intellect would unfold—the epoch of the Spiritual Soul. It was prepared for by the Aristotelians, in contrast—but in harmonious contrast—to what the Platonists had accomplished. And those who propagated Aristotelian teachings until well into the twelfth century were souls who had passed through their last really important incarnation in ancient Pagan times, especially in the world of Greek culture. And then—in the middle of the Middle Ages, in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries—there came about that great and wonderful spiritual understanding, if I may call it so, between the Platonists and the Aristotelians. And among these Platonists and Aristotelians were the leaders of those who as the two groups of souls I have described, advanced the Anthroposophical Movement.

By the twelfth century a certain School had come into being—as it were through inner necessity—a School in which the afterglow of the old Platonic seership lit up once again. It was the great and illustrious School of Chartres. In this School were great teachers to whom the mysteries of early Christianity were still known and in whose hearts and souls this knowledge kindled a vision of the spiritual foundation of Christianity. In the School of Chartres in France, where stands the magnificent Cathedral, built with such profusion of detail, there was a concentration, a gathering-together, as it were, of knowledge that only shortly before had been widely scattered, though confined to the small circles of which I have spoken. One of the men with whom the School was able to forge a living link was Peter of Compostella. He was able, with inspired understanding, to bring the ancient spiritual Christianity to life again within his own heart and soul. A whole succession of wonderful figures were teachers in Chartres. Truly remarkable voices spoke of Christianity in the School of Chartres in this twelfth century. There, for example, we find Bernard of Chartres, Bernardus Sylvestris, John of Salisbury, but above all the great Alanus ab Insulis. Mighty teachers indeed! When they spoke in the School of Chartres it was as if Plato himself, interpreting Christianity, were working in person among them. They taught the spiritual content and substance of Christianity. The writings that have come down from them may seem full of abstractions to those who read them to-day. But that is due simply to the abstract trend that characterises modern thinking. The impulse of the Christ is implicit in all the descriptions of the spiritual world contained in the writings of these outstanding personalities. I will give you an idea of how Bernardus Sylvestris and Alanus ab Insulis, above all, taught their initiated pupils. Strange as it will seem to the modern mind, such revelations were indeed given at that time to the pupils of Chartres.

It was taught: New life will come to Christianity. Its spiritual content and essence will be understood once again when Kali Yuga, the Age of Darkness, has come to an end and the dawn of a new Age breaks. And with the year 1899 this has already come to pass for us who are living at the present time; this is the great and mighty change that was to come for humanity at the end of Kali Yuga, the mighty impulse given two decades previously through the advent of Michael. This was prophetically announced in the School of Chartres in the twelfth century, above all by Bernardus Sylvestris and Alanus ab Insulis. But these men did not teach in the Aristotelian way, they did not teach by way of the intellect. They gave their teachings entirely in the form of mighty, imaginative pictures—pictures whereby the spiritual content of Christianity became concretely real. But there were certain prophetic teachings; and I should like by means of a brief extract to give you an indication of one such teaching.

Alanus ab Insulis spoke to the following effect to a narrow circle of his initiated pupils:—‘As we contemplate the universe to-day, we still regard the Earth as the centre, we judge everything from the Earth, as the centre. If the terrestrial conception which enables us to unfold our pictures and our imaginations... if this conception alone were to fertilise the coming centuries, progress would not be possible for mankind. We must come to an understanding with the Aristotelians who bring to humanity the intellect which must then be spiritualised so that in the twentieth century it may shine forth in a new and spiritual form among men. We, in our time, regard the Earth as the centre of the Cosmos, we speak of the planets circling around the Earth, we describe the whole heaven of stars as it presents itself to physical eyes as if it revolved around the Earth. But there will come one who will say: Let us place the Sun at the spatial centre of the cosmic system! But when he who will thus place the Sun at the centre of the spatial universe has come, the picture of the world will become arid. Men will only calculate the courses of the planets, will merely indicate the positions of the heavenly bodies, speaking of them as gases, or burning, luminous, physical bodies; they will know the starry heavens only in terms of mathematical and mechanical laws. But this arid picture of the world that will become widespread in the coming times, has, after all, one thing—meagre, it is true, yet it has it none the less. ... We look at the universe from the Earth; he who will come will look at the universe from the standpoint of the Sun. He will be like one who indicates a “direction” only—the direction leading towards a path of majestic splendour, fraught with most wonderful happenings and peopled by glorious Beings. But he will give the direction through abstract concepts only.’ (Thereby the Copernican picture of the world was indicated, arid and abstract yet giving the direction...) ‘For,’ said Alanus ab Insulis, ‘everything we present through the Imaginations that come to us must pass away; it must pass away and the picture men now have of the world must become altogether abstract, hardly more than a pointer along a path strewn with wonderful memorials. For then, in the spiritual world, there will be One who will use this pointer—which for the purposes of world-renewal is nothing more than a means of directive—in order that, together with the prevailing intellectualism, he may then lay the foundations of the new spirituality ... there will be One who will have this pointer as his only tool. This One will be St. Michael! For Him the ground must be made free; he must sow the path with new seed. And to that end, nothing but lines must remain—mathematical lines!’

A kind of magic breathed through the School of Chartres when Alanus ab Insulis was giving such teachings to a few of his chosen pupils. It was as if the ether-world all around were set astir by the surging waves of this mighty Michael teaching.

And so a spiritual atmosphere was imparted to the world. It spread across Western Europe, down into Southern Italy, where there were many who were able to receive it into themselves. In their souls something arose like a mighty Inspiration, enabling them to gaze into the spiritual world.

But in the evolution of the world it is so that those who are initiated into the great secrets of existence—as to a certain degree were Alanus ab Insulis and Bernardus Sylvestris—such men know that it is only possible to achieve this or that particular aim to a limited extent. A man like Alanus ab Insulis said to himself: We, the Platonists, must go through the gate of death; for the present we can live only in the spiritual world. We must look down from the spiritual world, leaving the physical world to those others whose task it is to cultivate the intellect in the Aristotelian way. The time has come now for the cultivation of the intellect. Late in his life Alanus ab Insulis put on the habit of the Cistercian Order; he became a Cistercian. And in the Cistercian Order many of these Platonic teachings were contained. Those among the Cistercians who possessed the deeper knowledge said to themselves: Henceforward we can work only from the spiritual world; the field must be relinquished to the Aristotelians.

These Aristotelians were, for the most part, in the Order of the Dominicans. And so in the thirteenth century the leadership of the spiritual life in Europe passed over to them.

But a heritage remained from men such as Peter of Compostella, Alanus ab Insulis, Bernard of Chartres, John of Salisbury and that poet who from the School of Chartres wrote a remarkable poem on the Seven Liberal Arts. It took significant hold of the spiritual life of Europe. What had come into being in the School of Chartres was so potent that it found its way, for example, to the University of Orleans. There, in the second half of the twelfth century, a great deal penetrated in the form of teaching from what had streamed to the pupils of Chartres through mighty pictures and words—words as it were of silver—from the lips of Bernardus Sylvestris, of Alanus ab Insulis.

The spiritual atmosphere was so charged with this influence from Chartres that the following incident happened.—While a man, returning to Italy from his ambassadorial post in Spain, was hastening homeward, he received news of the overthrow of the Guelphs in Florence, and at the same time suffered a slight sunstroke. In this condition his etheric body loosened and gathered in what was still echoing through the ether from the School of Chartres. And through what was thus wafted to him in the ether, something like an Intuition came to him—an Intuition such as had come to many human beings in the early Christian centuries. First he saw outspread before him the earthly world as it surrounds mankind, ruled over, not by ‘laws of Nature,’ as the saying went in later times—but by the great handmaiden of the Divine Demiurgos, by Natura, who in the first Christian centuries was the successor of Proserpine. In those days men did not speak of abstract laws of Nature; to the gaze of the Initiates, Being was implicit in what worked in Nature as an all-embracing, divine Power. Proserpine, who divides her time between the upper and the lower worlds, was presented in the Greek Mysteries as the power ruling over Nature. Her successor in the early Christian centuries was the Goddess Natura.

While under the influence of the sunstroke and of what came to him from the School of Chartres, this personality had gazed into the weaving life of the Goddess Natura, and, allowing this Intuition to impress him still more deeply, he beheld the working of the Elements—Earth, Water, Air, Fire—as this was once revealed in the ancient Mysteries; he beheld the majestic weaving of the Elements. Then he beheld the mysteries of the soul of man, he beheld those seven Powers of whom it was known that they are the great celestial Instructors of the human race.—This was known in the early Christian centuries. In those times men did not speak, as they do to-day, of abstract teachings, where something is imparted by way of concepts and ideas. In the first Christian centuries men spoke of being instructed from the spiritual world by the Goddesses Dialectica, Rhetorica, Grammatica, Arithmetica, Geometria, Astrologia or Astronomia, and Musica. These Seven were not the abstract conceptions which they have become today; men gazed upon them, saw them before their eyes—I cannot say in bodily reality but as Beings of soul—and allowed themselves to be instructed by these heavenly figures. Later on they no longer appeared to men in the solitude of vision as the living Goddesses Dialectica, Rhetorica and the rest, but in abstract forms, in abstract, theoretic doctrines.

The personality of whom I am now speaking allowed all that I have related to work upon him. And he was led then into the planetary world, wherein the mysteries of the soul of man are unveiled. Then in the world of stars, having traversed the “Great Cosmic Ocean,” he was led by Ovid, who after he had passed through the gate of death had become the guide and leader of souls in the spiritual world. This personality, who was Brunetto Latini, became the teacher of Dante. What Dante learned from Brunetto Latini he then wrote down in his poem the Divina Commedia. And so that mighty poem is a last reflection of what lived on here and there as Platonism. It had flowed from the lips of Sylvestris at the School of Chartres in the twelfth century and was still taught by those who had been so inwardly fired by the old traditions that the secrets of Christianity rose up within them as Inspirations which they were then able to communicate to their pupils through the word.

The influence of Alanus ab Insulis, brought into the Cistercian Order, passed over to the Dominicans. Then to the Dominicans fell the paramount task: the cultivation of the intellect in the Aristotelian sense. But there was an intervening period: the School of Chartres had been at its prime in the twelfth century—and in the thirteenth century, in the Dominican Order, the intensive development of Aristotelian Scholasticism began. The great teachers in the School of Chartres had passed through the gate of death into the spiritual world and were together for a time with the Dominicans who were beginning to come down through birth and who, after they had descended, established Aristotelianism on the Earth. We must therefore think of an intervening period, when, as it were in a great heavenly Council, the last of the great teachers of Chartres after they had passed through the gate of death were together with those who, as Dominicans, were to cultivate Aristotelianism—were together with them before these latter souls came down to Earth. There, in the spiritual world, the great “heavenly contract” was made. Those who under the leadership of Alanus ab Insulis had arrived in the spiritual world said to the Aristotelians who were about to descend: It is not the time now for us to be on the Earth; for the present we must work from here, from the spiritual world. In the near future it will not be possible for us to incarnate on the Earth. It is now your task to cultivate the intellect in the dawning epoch of the Spiritual Soul.—

Then the great Schoolmen came down and carried out the agreement that had been reached between them and the last great Platonists of the School of Chartres. One, for example, who had been among the earliest to descend received a message through another who had remained with Alanus ab Insulis in the spiritual world for a longer time than he—that is to say, the younger man had remained longer with the spiritual Individuality who had borne the name ‘Alanus ab Insulis.’ The younger one who came down later worked together with the older man to whom he conveyed the message and thus within the Dominican Order began the preparation for the Age of Intellectualism. The one who had remained somewhat longer in the spiritual world with Alanus ab Insulis first put on the habit of the Cistercian Order, exchanging it only later for that of the Dominican. And so those who had once lived under the influence of what came into the world with Aristotle, were now working on the Earth, and up above, keeping watch, but in living connection with the Aristotelians working on the Earth, were the Platonists who had been in the School of Chartres. The spiritual world and the physical world went hand in hand. Through the thirteenth, fourteenth and fifteenth centuries it was as though Aristotelians and Platonists were stretching out their hands to one another. And then, as time went on, many of those who had come down in order to introduce Aristotelianism into Europe were in the spiritual world with the others once again.

But the further course of evolution was such that the former leaders in the School of Chartres, together with those who held the leading positions in the Dominican Order, placed themselves at the head of those who in the first half of the nineteenth century, in that mighty super-sensible cult enacted in the pictures already indicated, made preparation for the later anthroposophical stream. In the nature of things, the first to come down again were those who had worked more or less as Aristotelians; for under the influence of intellectualism the time for a new deepening of spirituality had not yet come. But there was an unbreakable agreement which still works on. In accordance with this agreement there must go forth from the Anthroposophical Movement something that must find its culmination before this century has run its course. For over the Anthroposophical Society a destiny hovers: many of those in the Anthroposophical Society to-day will have to come down again to the Earth before, and at the end of, the twentieth century, but united, then, with those who were either the actual leaders in the School of Chartres or were pupils at Chartres. And so, if civilisation is not to fall into utter decadence, before the end of the twentieth century the Platonists of Chartres and the Aristotelians who came later will have to be working together on the Earth.

In the future, the Anthroposophical Society must learn to understand, with full consciousness, something of its karma. For a great deal that is unable to come to birth—above all at the present time—is waiting in the womb of the spiritual evolution of mankind. Also, very many things to-day assume an entirely different form; but if one can discern the symptoms, the inner meaning of what is thus externalised becomes evident and the veils are drawn aside from much that continues to live spiritually through the centuries. At this point I may perhaps give a certain indication. Why, indeed, should it not be given, now that the esoteric impulse is to flow through the Anthroposophical Society?—I should like to speak of something that will show you how observation of surrounding circumstances opens up a vista into manifold connections.

When I myself, in preparing for the Anthroposophical Movement, was led along a particular path of destiny, this showed itself in a strange connection with the Cistercian Order, which is closely connected, in its turn, with Alanus ab Insulis. [Let me say here, for those who like to weave legends, that I, in respect of my own individuality, am in no way to be identified with Alanus ab Insulis. I only want to prevent legends arising from what I am putting before you in an esoteric way. The essential point is that these things stem from esoteric sources.] In an altogether remarkable way my destiny allowed me to discern through the external circumstances, such spiritual connections as I have now described. Perhaps some of you know the articles in the Goetheanum Weekly entitled, Mein Lebensgang (The Course of My Life). I have spoken there of how in my youth I was sent, not to a Gymnasium, but to a Real Schule, and only later acquired the classical education given in the Gymnasia. I can only regard this as a remarkable dispensation of my karma. For in the town where I spent my youth the Gymnasium was only a few steps away from the Real Schule and it was by a hair's breadth that I went, not to the Gymnasium but to the Real Schule. If, however, at that time I had gone to the Gymnasium in the town, I should have become a priest in the Cistercian Order. Of that there is no doubt whatever. For at this Gymnasium all the teachers were Cistercians. I was deeply attracted to all these priests, many of whom were extremely learned men. I read a great deal that they wrote and was profoundly stirred by it. I loved these priests and the only reason why I passed the Cistercian Order by was because I did not attend the Gymnasium. Karma led me elsewhere ... but for all that I did not escape the Cistercian Order. I have spoken of this too in my autobiography. I was always of a sociable disposition, and in my autobiography I have written of how, later on, in the house of Marie Eugenie della Grazie in Vienna, I came into contact with practically every theologian in the city. Nearly all of them were Cistercian priests. And in this way a vista opened out, inducing one to go back in time ... for me personally it came very naturally ... a vista leading through the stream of the Cistercian Order back to the School of Chartres. For Alanus ab Insulis had been a Cistercian. And strange to say, when, later on, I was writing my first Mystery Play, The Portal of Initiation, I simply could not, for reasons of aesthetic necessity, do otherwise than clothe the female characters on the stage in a costume consisting of a long tunic and what is called a stole. If you picture such a garment—a yellowish-white tunic with a black stole and black girdle—there you have the robe of the Cistercian Order. I was thinking at the time only of aesthetic necessities, but this robe of the Cistercian Order came very naturally before me. There you have one indication of how connections unfold before those who are able to perceive the inner, spiritual significance of symptoms appearing in the external world.

A beginning was made at Christmas more and more to draw aside the veils from these inner connections. They must be brought to light, for mankind is waiting for knowledge of inner reality, having for centuries experienced only that of the outer, material world, and civilisation to-day is in a terrible position. Among the many indications still to be given, we shall, on the one side, have to speak of the work of the School of Chartres, of how Initiates in this School passed through the gate of death and encountered in the spiritual world those souls who later wore the robe of the Dominicans in order to spread Aristotelianism with its intellectuality and to prepare with vigour and energy the epoch of the Spiritual (or Consciousness) Soul. And so—let me put it in this way—in the Anthroposophical Society we have Aristotelianism working on, but in a spiritualised form, and awaiting its further spiritualisation. Then, at the end of the century many of those who are here to-day, will return, but they will be united, then, with those who were the teachers in the School of Chartres. The aim of the Anthroposophical Society is to unite the two elements. The one element is the Aristotelianism in the souls who were for the most part connected with the old Pagan wisdom, who were waiting for Christianity and who retained this longing until, as Dominicans, they were able through the activity of the intellect to promulgate Christianity. They will be united with souls who had actually experienced Christianity in the physical world and whose greatest teachers gathered together in the School of Chartres. Up to now, these teachers of Chartres have not incarnated, although in my contact with the Cistercian Order I was able again and again to come across incorporations of many of those who were in the School of Chartres. In the Cistercian Order one met many a personality who was not a reincarnation of a pupil of Chartres but in whose life there were periods when—for hours, for days—he was inspired by some such Individuality from the School of Chartres. It was a matter, in these cases, of incorporation, not incarnation. And wonderful things were written, of which one could only ask: who is the actual author? The author was not the monk who in the Cistercian Order at that time wore the yellowish-white robe with the black stole and girdle, but the real author was the personality who for hours, days or weeks had come down into the soul of one of these Cistercian Brothers. Much of this influence worked on in essays or writings little known in literature.—I myself once had a remarkable conversation with a Cistercian who was an extremely learned man. I have mentioned it, too, in The Course of My Life. We were going away from a gathering, and speaking about the Christ problem. I propounded my ideas which were the same, essentially, as those I give in my lectures. He became uneasy while I was speaking, and said: ‘We may possibly hit upon something of the kind; we shall not allow ourselves to think such things.’ He spoke in similar terms about other problems of Christology. But then we stopped for a short time—the moment stands most vividly before me—it was where the Schottenring and the Burgring meet in Vienna, on the one side the Hofburg and on the other the Hotel de France and the Votiv-Kirche ... we stopped for a minute or two and the man said: “I should like you to come with me. I will give you a book from my library in which something remarkable is said on the subject you have been speaking about.” I went with him and he gave me a book about the Druses. The whole circumstances of our conversation in connection with the perusal of this book led me to the knowledge that when, having started from Christology, I went on to speak of repeated earthly lives, this deeply learned man was, as it were, emptied mentally in a strange way, and when he came to himself again remembered only that he possessed a book about the Druses in which something was said about reincarnation. He knew about it only from this one book. He was a Hofrat (Councillor) at the University of Vienna and was so erudite that it was said of him: “Hofrat N. knows the whole world and three villages besides.” ... so great was his learning—but in his bodily existence he knew only that in a book about the Druses something was said about repeated earthly lives. This is an example of the difference between what men have in their subconsciousness and what flows as the spiritual world through their souls.—And then a noteworthy episode occurred. I was once giving a lecture in Vienna. The same person was there and after the lecture he made a remark which could only be interpreted in the sense that at this moment he had complete understanding of a certain man belonging to the present age and of the relation of this man to his earlier incarnation. And what the person said on that occasion about the connection between two earthly lives, was correct, was not false. But through his intellect he understood nothing; it simply came from his lips.

By this I want only to indicate how spiritual movements reach into the immediate present. But what to-day shines in as it were through many tiny windows must in the future become a unity through that connection between the leaders of the School of Chartres and the leading spirits of Scholasticism, when the spiritual revival whereby intellectualism itself is lifted to the Spirit, sets in at the end of the twentieth century. To make this possible, let human beings of the twentieth century not throw away their opportunities! But everything to-day depends upon free will, and whether the two allied groups will be able to descend for the re-spiritualisation of culture in the twentieth century—this depends very specially upon whether the Anthroposophical Society understands how to cultivate Anthroposophy with the right devotion.

So much for to-day.—We have heard of the connection of the anthroposophical stream with the deep mystery of the epoch which began with the manifestation of the Christ in the Mystery of Golgotha and has developed in the way I have described. More will be said in the second lecture.

These lectures and documents from the summer and fall of 1915 were a response to a crisis in the Anthroposophical Society, a crisis Rudolf Steiner wanted the membership to be aware of.

In part, the crisis was caused by Alice Sprengel, a long-time student of Rudolf Steiner, and her reaction apparently provoked by the marriage of her spiritual teacher to Marie von Sivers. Her expectations, the exact nature of which is not quite clear, were connected to the important role she felt herself playing in the anthroposophical movement. Faced with the close working relationship and then the marriage of Rudolf Steiner and Marie von Sivers in the winter of 1914, Alice Sprengel not only sent personal letters to both but also brought her disappointment and sense of abandonment to the attention of other members of the Anthroposophical Society.

She also had a close relationship to Heinrich and Gertrud Goesch, a couple whose interest in Rudolf Steiner's work was matched by an equally strong fascination with the then emerging psychoanalytical school of Freud. Influenced by Alice Sprengel and his own inner uncertainties, Heinrich Goesch accused Rudolf Steiner both privately and publicly of manipulating the membership of the Anthroposophical Society into a dependent status. As supposed mechanisms of such manipulation he mentioned Steiner's repeated failure to keep appointments and physical contact with members through shaking hands upon meeting.

Rudolf Steiner was understandably upset by both sets of accusations and even more so by the gossiping and dissension they caused among members of the Anthroposophical Society. He used these difficulties as an opportunity to address four important questions that are as relevant today as they were in 1915. The first, primarily discussed in Lectures One and Two, concerns the nature of the Anthroposophical Society and the responsibilities its members have to accept if they want to be true to spiritual science. The very clear, pragmatic manner in which these two lectures discuss this important issue makes them a valuable companion to the recently published The Christmas Conference for the Foundation of the Anthroposophical Society, 1923/24.¹ The need for the members to move from a consumer orientation regarding spiritual teaching to a feeling of responsibility for it, the unique nature of the Anthroposophical Society as an earthly home for spiritual revelation, and the harm that irresponsible statements and actions can cause the Society are just a few of the important points covered. Steiner also takes a stand against the incessant gossiping and the mutual criticism among members as well as against their attempts to justify sexual infidelities by pointing to an incontrovertible "karma." Rudolf Steiner here urgently appeals to the members' sense of truth and exactitude as the basis for a healing and nurturing of the Anthroposophical Society.

The second question addressed, particularly in Lectures Three and Five, concerns the nature and conditions of spiritual seership. Steiner uses a discussion of Swedenborg's inability to understand the thoughts of certain spirit beings to make two fundamental points about spiritual cognition. The first is the difference between perception in the physical world and true spiritual seership. In the physical world we perceive objects outside of ourselves and take something of them into us through mental images. In the spiritual world "we no longer perceive but experience that we are being perceived, that the spiritual beings of the higher hierarchies are observing us. This experience of being perceived and observed by the Angeloi and Archangeloi and other spiritual hierarchies is a total reversal of our former relationship to the physical world.”²

According to Steiner, Swedenborg did not achieve this reversal of perspective; therefore, his clairvoyance was limited, and he did not attain to full imaginative cognition.

Steiner links this difference in perspectives to that between clairvoyance achieved through the redirection of sexual energies and clairvoyance resulting from pure thinking. The latter leads to the experience that the transformed thinking activity of the human being, a thinking devoid of personal likes and dislikes, allows thoughts to appear as objective entities within the human soul. It thereby properly prepares the individual for spiritual seership. The transformation of sexual energies, on the other hand, keeps the individual tied to the physical and allows only a partial clairvoyance. Steiner therefore contends that a spiritual science and seership appropriate to our time rests not on a transformation of our instincts but on a conscious separation of the instinctual life from that of the mind and spirit.

The third issue discussed by Rudolf Steiner in these lectures is the nature of psychoanalysis as developed by Freud. While acknowledging the importance of the unconscious and the subconscious, Steiner is particularly critical of the theory of infantile sexuality. It should be noted that Steiner gave these lectures in 1915 and that both Adler and Jung broke with Freud over Freud's insistence on infantile sexuality as a primary interpretive framework for understanding psychological disturbances.³

Freudian psychology is discussed in Lectures Four and Five of this volume. They are an important supplement to the recently published lectures of Rudolf Steiner entitled Psychoanalysis and Spiritual Psychology.⁴ Of particular significance is Rudolf Steiner's treatment of the three main physiological functions of the human being—the nerve sense system, the rhythmic system, and the metabolic system—in their historical and spiritual evolution. His insistence that the metabolic system and the instinctual sexual life are the least spiritual aspects of the human being supports both his criticism of Freud and his basic view of spiritual development.

In reading both these lectures and those contained in Psychoanalysis and Spiritual Psychology, one can easily be led to reject much of the development of psychology in the twentieth century. Indeed the anti-psychological orientation of many students of Rudolf Steiner's work is quite pronounced. My own perspective is different. First, I see the development of modern psychology and psychiatry as co-existent with the end of what Rudolf Steiner refers to as “the Kali Yuga,” or dark age, in 1899. This means that however inadequate the evolution of psychological theories and practices has been in some respects, it has on the whole been a new and deepening exploration of the human soul and spirit. Here, I am in particular thinking of Jung in Memories, Dreams, and Reflections or of Viktor Frankl's logo-therapy or Assagioli's work. It seems to me that while there is much in modern psychology that is trivial and dangerous, there is also much that is worthwhile and helpful.

Students of Rudolf Steiner's work have the possibility to ask questions of appropriateness and relevance regarding different psychological schools, as David Black has done in “On the Nature of Psychology” in Towards.⁵ To see biophysical, behavioral, intrapsychic, and phenomenological schools of thought as addressing different levels of the human being, and to ask what spiritual science has to contribute to the evolving body of psychological and spiritual insight in the last decade of the twentieth century, is a more honest and, I believe, more helpful approach than to extend Steiner's early opposition to Freud and Jung into an unreflecting anti-psychological stance. Soul work and spirit work are intimately connected. The task of developing a more spiritual psychology is a vital task for the coming decades.

In Lecture Six, Steiner addresses the relation between love, mysticism, and spirituality. Particularly significant is his contention that the prevailing materialism of the time made it impossible for most people to conceive of a spiritual striving that did not have some erotic or sexual basis, albeit a very refined one. While Rudolf Steiner does acknowledge that this is sometimes the case, he again asserts the importance of spiritual science as a path of spiritual development for Western humanity in our time because of its reliance on the transformation of the individual's thinking.

As this volume also contains all of the correspondence regarding the difficulties in the Anthroposophical Society in 1915, readers will easily see the direct connection between the personal accusations leveled against Steiner and the lecture themes presented. The questions raised are basic ones for any modern spiritual movement that wants to contribute to individual freedom and a renewal of society. These lectures can lead members of the Anthroposophical Society to ponder their responsibilities toward the content of spiritual science, toward Rudolf Steiner, and toward their brothers and sisters in their striving. For outside observers these lectures constitute an insightful record of the social and psychological difficulties of a spiritual movement relying primarily on the insights and teachings of one individual.

However, the questions of love, sexuality, morality, and spiritual development are of immediate interest and of deep personal significance for all readers on their inner journey.

CHRISTOPHER SCHAEFER, PH.D.
Spring Valley, New York
February 1991

• 1. Rudolf Steiner, The Christmas Conference for the Foundation of the Anthroposophical Society, 1923/24 (Hudson, NY: Anthroposophic Press, 1990).
• 2. See Lecture Three in this volume, pp. 43-44.
• 3. See I. Progoff, The Death and Rebirth of Psychology (New York: McGraw Hill, 1973).
• 4. Rudolf Steiner, Psychoanalysis and Spiritual Psychology (Hudson, NY: Anthroposophic Press, 1990).
• 5. Towards, 1 no. 7 (Winter 1980/81): 29-34.

It seems that some confusion has arisen regarding membership of the “Anthroposophical Society”. From now on, I would like to know the same relationship that members of the Theosophical Society have had up to now. I must say in advance that my friends and I must draw only the necessary conclusions from the decision of the General Council of the Theosophical Society of December 1912, which is entirely equivalent to the exclusion of the German Section from the Theosophical Society.

The events that preceded this fact are so momentous that it is impossible at the present moment to act other than to take the whole matter most seriously as a matter of principle for the spiritual movement we serve.

The situation is as follows: what has happened in Adyar prohibits me from continuing to hold those lectures that I have hitherto given to members of the Theosophical Society for those who wish to remain members of that Society. It goes without saying that this applies only to those lectures that have so far been given only to members of the Theosophical Society. In the future, these will be held for members of the Anthroposophical Society. And it is therefore quite natural that members of the Anthroposophical Society cannot at the same time be members of the Theosophical Society, because I cannot give the lectures mentioned for the latter. Likewise, I must insist that the transcripts of these lectures not be given to members of the Theosophical Society. When it is said, oddly enough, that it is an infringement of freedom of conscience to demand that members of the Anthroposophical Society may not at the same time be members of the Theosophical Society, this is quite incomprehensible, for surely no one is forced to join the Anthroposophical Society. They can remain in the Theosophical Society. But surely the Anthroposophical Society should be free to accept or reject whom it wishes. Nobody should have a crisis of conscience over this.

The Goetheanum, which has been under construction in Dornach for the past ten years, no longer stands there; the building has been lost to the work of the Anthroposophical Society, and what an appalling loss it is! One need only weigh what the Goetheanum has meant to the Society to form some idea of the enormity of that loss and of the load of grief brought upon us by the catastrophic fire of last New Year's Eve.

Until 1913, when the foundation stone of the Goetheanum was laid in Dornach, the Anthroposophical Society served as the guardian of the Anthroposophical Movement wherever it had established branches. But then the Society began to feel that it needed a central building of its own. Perhaps members here will appreciate especially keenly what the Society as a whole has lost in the building that became its home, for in Stuttgart the Society has its own building. We have been privileged to carry on our activities in it for many years, and Stuttgart members therefore know from experience what it means to work in a building of their own, conceived as a suitable setting for the Anthroposophical Movement.

Up to the time when the Anthroposophical Society felt moved to establish its center in the building at Dornach, its only way of carrying on its work—except, as has been said, in Stuttgart—was in meetings. It had to rely solely on words to convey the possibility of a connection of man with the spiritual world such as has become a necessity for present day human evolution. Of course, the medium of the spoken word will always remain the most important, significant and indispensable means to that end that is available to the Movement. But additional ways opened up to us with the building of the Goetheanum. It became possible to speak to the world at large in the purely artistic forms striven for in it. While it is true that people who lack a sense for what anthroposophy has to offer through the medium of words will also evince little feeling for the artistic forms they perceive in the Goetheanum at Dornach, it is nevertheless true that people of our time tend to find it easier to approach things with their eyes than to rouse themselves to inner activity through what they hear. The Dornach building thus vastly widened the possibility of conveying the spirituality so needed by the human race today. In its visible forms and as a visible work of art, the Goetheanum spoke of the secrets of the spiritual world to an immeasurably greater number of people than had previously been able to learn of them through spoken words. Anyone with enough goodwill to look without prejudice at the building and at the anthroposophy underlying it found in the Goetheanum proof positive that anthroposophy is not tainted with sectarianism, but rather addresses itself to the great task of the age: that of taking up and embodying in every facet of our civilization and our culture the rays of a new spiritual light now available to humankind. Perhaps it was possible for an unprejudiced person to detect a sectarian note in one or another of the many meetings held in rented lecture halls. But that became impossible for people of goodwill as they looked at the Dornach building, where every trace of symbolism or allegory was studiously avoided and the anthroposophical impulse confined itself to purest art. People had to see that anthroposophy fosters something of wide human appeal, not something strange and different, that it is trying to fructify the present in a way that has universal human meaning in every realm of modern endeavor. The Goetheanum whose ruins are now so painful to behold had become in this sense a powerful means of expressing what the true nature of the Anthroposophical Movement is. We tried to carry our intention of keeping to the universally human into every least detail of the building. We strove to achieve pure art, for such a striving is profoundly part of the anthroposophical impulse. So the Goetheanum became a means of communicating the lofty concerns of the Anthroposophical Society even to people who had no interest in the Society as such.

This is the way things were for almost ten years. But a single night sufficed to end it.

To speak these two sentences in sequence is to be plunged into feelings that defy expression. Anything that could be reported of the work and worries of the past ten years falls into insignificance beside the irreparable loss of this vital means of showing what the Anthroposophical Movement is.

Now that the Goetheanum is gone, everyone who loved it and had a real sense of what it signified longs to have it rebuilt in some form or other. But the very thought of rebuilding should remind us that ten years have passed since the building was begun, and that the Anthroposophical Movement is of a nature that attracts enemies. In these grief-stricken days we have been given a further taste of what enmity means. Yet, on the other hand, the catastrophe also brought to light what hosts of true friends the Goetheanum had made for the Anthroposophical Movement. For along with messages from members, so gratefully received by me—messages in which they wrote of their grief and anguish—there were many from individuals who, though they had remained outside the Society, wanted to express their fellow-feeling in the matter of our catastrophic loss. Much warmth toward our cause came to light on that occasion.

Indeed, it was love that built the Goetheanum, and at the end, too, it stood under the sign of love. Only a boundlessly sacrificial spirit on the part of those who, when we began building in 1913, had long been devoting themselves to the movement, made the building possible. Immeasurable sacrifices were made—material, spiritual and labor sacrifices. Many friends of the Movement joined forces in Dornach and worked together in the most selfless way imaginable to bring the building into being.

Then the terrible war broke out. But even though the building tempo slowed down considerably during those harrowing years, no breach was made in the cooperative anthroposophical spirit of the members who were working together. The Dornach building site was a place where representatives of many European nations at war with one another worked and thought and carried on together in peace and loving fellowship. Perhaps it can be said, without any intention of boasting, that the love built into this building will stand out when historians come to record the waves of hatred set in motion among civilized peoples in the war-time years. While that hate was raging elsewhere, real love prevailed in Dornach and was built into the building—love that had its origin in the spirit. The name anthroposophy bears is justified: it is not mere learning like any other. The ideas it presents and the words it uses are not meant as abstract theory. Anthroposophical ideas are not shaped in the way other kinds of learning have been shaping ideas for the past three or four centuries; words are not meant as they are elsewhere. Anthroposophical ideas are vessels fashioned by love, and man's being is spiritually summoned by the spiritual world to partake of their content. Anthroposophy must bring the light of true humanness to shine out in thoughts that bear love's imprint; knowledge is only the form in which man reflects the possibility of receiving in his heart the light of the world spirit that has come to dwell there and from that heart illumine human thought. Since anthroposophy cannot really be grasped except by the power of love, it is love-engendering when human beings take it in a way true to its own nature. That is why a place where love reigned could be built in Dornach in the very midst of raging hatreds. Words expressing anthroposophical truths are not like words spoken elswhere today; rightly conceived, they are all really reverential pleas that the spirit make itself known to men.

The building erected in Dornach was built in this reverential spirit. Love was embodied in it. That same love manifested itself in renewed sacrifice during the night of the Goetheanum fire. It was spirit transformed into love that was present there.

I cannot speak at this time of the deeper, spiritual aspects of the Goetheanum fire. I can understand someone asking questions close to his heart such as, “How could a just cosmos have failed to prevent this frightful disaster?” Nor can I deny anyone the right to ask whether the catastrophe could not have been foreseen. But these questions lead into the very depths of esoterics, and it is impossible to discuss them because there is simply no place remaining to us where they can be brought up without at once being reported to people who would forge them into weapons for use against the Anthroposophical Movement. This prevents my going into the deeper spiritual facts of the case.

But what was cast in the mould of love has called forth bitter enmity. Our misfortune has unleashed a veritable hailstorm of ridicule, contempt and hatred, and the willful distortion of truth that has always characterized so large a part of our opposition is especially typical of the situation now, with enemies creeping out of every corner and spreading deliberate untruth about the tragedy itself. Our friends present at the scene of the fire did everything in their power to save what simply could not be saved. But ill-wishers have had the bad taste to say, for example, that the fire showed up the members for what they were, that they just hung about praying for the fire to stop of itself. This is merely a small sample of the contempt and ridicule we are being subjected to in connection with the fire.

I have been warning for years that we will have to reckon with a constantly growing opposition, and that it is our foremost duty to be aware of this and to be properly vigilant. It was always painful to have to hear people say that our enemies in this or that quarter seemed to be quieting down. This sort of thing is due to people's willingness to entertain illusions, unfortunately all too prevalent among us. Let us hope that the terrible misfortune we have had to face will at least have the effect of curing members of their illusions and convincing them of the need to concentrate all the forces of their hearts and minds on advancing the Anthroposophical Movement. For now that the wish to build another Goetheanum is being expressed, we need to be particularly conscious of the fact that without a strong, energetic Anthroposophical Society in the background it would be senseless to rebuild. Rebuilding makes sense only if a self-aware, strong Anthroposophical Society, thoroughly conscious of what its responsibilities are, stands behind it.

We cannot afford to forget what the bases of such a strong Anthroposophical Society are. Let us, therefore, go on, on this solemn occasion, to consider the way a strong Anthroposophical Society, aware of its responsibilities, should be conceived in the situation we are presently facing.

Until 1918, my dear friends, the Anthroposophical Society was what I might call a vessel to contain the spiritual stream believed by leading members to be vitally needed by present day humanity. Up to that time the only additional element was what grew out of the heart of anthroposophy, out of anthroposophical thinking, feeling and will. Even though the Dornach building was everything I have just described—an expression of the Anthroposophical Movement in a much broader sense than words can ever be—its every least detail came into being out of the very heart of anthroposophy.

But anthroposophy is not the concern of a separatist group; sectarianism is abhorrent to it. This means that it is capable of making whatever springs from its center fruitful for all life's various realms. During the hard times that followed upon the temporary ending of the war in Europe, friends of the Movement saw the tragic shape of things that prevailed on every hand in the life about them, and they realized how essential new impulses were in every realm of life. Much that grew out of the Anthroposophical Movement after 1919 took on a very different character than it would have had if anthroposophy had gone on shaping its efforts as it had been doing prior to that time. It is certainly true that anthroposophy is called upon to make its influence felt in every phase of life, and most certainly in those fields where friends of the Movement, motivated by anthroposophy, have sought to be fruitfully active. But external events have somehow brought it about that much that has been undertaken did not, in fact, spring directly from an anthroposophical spirit, but was instead founded and carried on alongside and unrelated to it. So we have seen a good deal happen since 1919 which, though it cannot be called unanthroposophical, has nevertheless been carried on in another sort of spirit than would have prevailed had the Anthroposophical Movement continued to pursue the course it was following up to 1918. This is a fact of the greatest importance, and I ask you not to misunderstand me when I speak about these matters as I must, in duty bound.

I am most decidedly not referring to such appropriate undertakings as Der Kommende Tag, [DER KOMMENDE TAG. A public corporation serving economic and spiritual concerns in Stuttgart. It was to demonstrate cooperation between economic and cultural institutions. Founded in 1920 and liquidated in 1925, the enterprise became a victim of inflation and other unfavorable events.] undertakings that came into being in close connection with the Anthroposophical Movement, even though they carry on their existence as separate entities. What I shall have to say does not apply to this type of enterprise. Please, therefore, do not take my words as reflecting in the least on the standing of such undertakings in the material sphere as these, for they have every intention of proceeding along lines entirely in harmony with the Anthroposophical Movement. What I am about to say refers exclusively to the Anthroposophical Society as such, to work in and for the Society.

This Anthroposophical Movement, which is partially anchored in the Anthroposophical Society, has been able to demonstrate its universally human character especially clearly here in Stuttgart, where it has proved that it did not spring from some spiritual party program or other but had its origin rather in the full breadth of human nature. Unprejudiced people probably realize that the proof of anthroposophy's universally human character is to be found here in Stuttgart in one area in particular: the pedagogy of the Waldorf School. [The first “Free Waldorf School” according to the pedagogy of Rudolf Steiner was founded at Stuttgart in 1919. At present, there are some seventy Waldorf Schools in many countries.] The proof lies in the fact that the Waldorf School is not an institution set up to teach anthroposophy, but to solve the problem of how to teach for the best development of the whole wide range of human capacities. How can education best serve human growth? Anthroposophy must show how this problem can be solved. A sect or a party would have founded a school for teaching its views, not a school based on universally human considerations.

The universally human character striven for in the Waldorf School cannot be too strongly emphasized. One can say in a case like this that a person who is a genuine anthroposophist is not in the least concerned with the name anthroposophy; he is concerned with what it is about. But it is about universally human concerns. So when it is brought to bear on a certain goal, it can function only in the most universally human sense. Every sect or party that sets out to found a school founds a sectarian school to train up, say, Seventh Day Adventists or the like. It is contrary to the nature of anthroposophy to do this. Anthroposophy can only give rise to universally human institutions; that is what comes naturally to it. People who still treat the Anthroposophical Movement as a sect despite these facts are either unobservant or malicious, for the Waldorf School here in Stuttgart offers positive proof that anthroposophy is concerned with what is universally human.

But circles within the Society should also pay close heed to this same fact. The way the Waldorf School was founded, the whole spirit of its founding, are matters for the Society's pondering. This spirit should serve as a model in any further foundings related either to the Anthroposophical Society or to the Movement. Perhaps we may say that the Goetheanum in Dornach and the Waldorf School and its procedures show how anthroposophical activity should be carried on in all the various spheres of culture.

To make sure of not being misunderstood, let me say again that I have used Der Kommende Tag as an example of something that has its own rightness because of the way it was set up, and it is therefore not among the institutions that I will be referring to in what follows. I am going to restrict my comments to what is being done or contemplated in the way of anthroposophical activity within the Anthroposophical Movement itself. I want especially to stress that the Movement has succeeded in demonstrating in the Waldorf School that it does not work in a narrowly sectarian, egotistic spirit, but rather in a spirit so universally human that the background out of which its pupils come is no longer discernible, so universally human have they grown. It is superfluous, in the case of the Waldorf School, to ask whether its origin was anthroposophy; the only question is whether children who receive their education there are being properly educated. Anthroposophy undergoes a metamorphosis into the universally human when it is put to work. But for that to be the case, for anthroposophy to be rightly creative in the various fields, it must have an area—not for its own but for its offsprings' sake—where it is energetically fostered and where its members are fully conscious of their responsibilities to the Society. Only then can anthroposophy be a suitable parent to these many offspring in the various spheres of culture and civilization. The Society must unite human beings who feel the deepest, holiest commitment to the true fostering of anthroposophy.

This is by no means easy, though many people think it is. It is a task that has certain difficult aspects. These difficulties have shown up especially strongly here in Stuttgart too since 1919. For though on the one hand the Waldorf School has thus far preserved the truly anthroposophical character I have been discussing, we have seen just in this case on the other hand how extraordinarily difficult it is to keep the right relationship between the Anthroposophical Society as the parent, and its offspring activities. This may sound paradoxical, but if I go into more detail you will perhaps understand me also in this.

The comments I am about to make are not intended to reflect in any way on the worth of the various movements that have sprung up since 1919 in connection with anthroposophy; all I have in mind is their effect on the Society, so no one should mistake my words for value judgments. I am speaking exclusively of effects on the Society. The enterprises that I shall be referring to have not always been conceived by those responsible for them with what I might call up-to-date feeling for the spirit of the commandment, ‘Honor thy father and thy mother that thy days may be long in the land which the Lord giveth thee.’ The moving spirits in these projects have often—indeed, usually—been members of the Anthroposophical Society. The question now arises whether these members, active in fields connected with the Society, have always kept the parental source clearly in mind, competent though they undoubtedly are in their chosen fields. Is the effect of their professional activity on the Society desirable? This is a very different question than whether the persons concerned are professionally competent. Speaking radically, I would put it thus: A person can be the most excellent Waldorf School teacher imaginable, one wholly consonant with the spirit in which the Waldorf School grew out of the Anthroposophical Movement to become a universally human undertaking. He can carry on his work as a Waldorf teacher wholly in that spirit. The school can shape itself and its work in the anthroposophical spirit all the better for not being a school to teach anthroposophy. The individual Waldorf teacher may make most excellent contributions to it without necessarily doing the right thing by the Society as a member. I am not saying that this is true in any given instance, just that it could be true. Or let us say that someone can be an able officer of Der Kommende Tag, a person with the ability to make it flourish, yet prove most inadequate to the needs of the Anthroposophical Society. But the failure to give the parent entity what it needs in order to foster all its offspring properly is cause for the greatest anxiety, for really deep worry about the Anthroposophical Movement.

My dear friends, the fact that this situation prevailed in a certain field was what forced me to speak as I did about the Movement for Religious Renewal¹ in my next-to-last lecture at the Goetheanum. I most certainly do not mean to criticize the Movement for Religious Renewal in the slightest, for it was brought into being three and a half months ago with my own cooperation and advice. It would be the most natural thing in the world for me to be profoundly delighted should it succeed. Surely no doubt can exist on this score. Nevertheless, after it had been in existence for three and a half months, I had to speak as I did at that time in Dornach, directing my comments not to the Movement for Religious Renewal but to the anthroposophists, including of course those attached to the Movement for Religious Renewal. What I had to say was, in so many words: Yes, rejoice in the child, but don't forget the mother and the care and concern due her. That care and concern are owed her by the Movement for Religious Renewal, too, but most particularly by the members of the Anthroposophical Society.

For what a thing it would be if the Society were to be slighted, if anthroposophists were to turn away from it to an offspring movement, not in the sense of saying that those of us who have grown together with the Anthroposophical Movement can be the best advisors and helpers of an offspring movement, but instead turning away from the Anthroposophical Movement of which they were members with the feeling that they have at last found what they were really looking for, something they could never have found in anthroposophy! Though there is every reason to be overjoyed at the parent's concern for the child, it must be clearly recognized that the child cannot prosper if the mother is neglected. If anthroposophists who join the Movement for Religious Renewal leave much to be desired as members of the Anthroposophical Society, we would face exactly the same situation as would have to be faced in the case of a Waldorf School teacher who, though a first-rate man in his field, contributed too little to the Society. But this is just the fate we have been experiencing since 1919, little as the fact has been noticed.

We have witnessed the well-intentioned founding of the Union for the Threefolding of the Social Organism. [UNION FOR THE THREEFOLDING OF THE SOCIAL ORGANISM. The Union had its seat in Stuttgart and published the weekly review, Dreigliederung des Sozialen Organismus.] This Union was largely responsible for the failure to get a hearing for the threefold commonwealth in nonanthroposophical circles. What it did do was to try to hammer the threefold impulse into the Anthroposophical Movement, which was already permeated by everything basic to it, and this in a far deeper way than could ever be matched by its quite external, exoteric expression in the threefold commonwealth. We had the sad experience of seeing that some anthroposophists who worked so zealously and intensively at this task became less valuable members of the Society than they had been.

Such has been our fate for the past four years. The situation has to be described as it really is, because it will take a strong, energetic Anthroposophical Society to justify any thought of rebuilding the Goetheanum. We must remind ourselves how significant a phenomenon it was that Stuttgart was just the place where an excellent beginning was made in a wide range of activities. But to be realistic we need to ask the following question (and I beg you not to misunderstand my speaking of these basic matters on the present solemn, sad occasion).

To avoid any misunderstanding, let us return to the example of the Waldorf School. It is of the first importance to grasp the difference between spreading anthroposophy by means of words, in books and lectures, and concerning oneself with the welfare of the Anthroposophical Society as such. Theoretically, at least, it does not require a society to spread anthroposophy by means of books and lectures; anthroposophy is spread to a great extent by just these means, without any help from the Society. But the totality of what comprises anthroposophy today cannot exist without the Anthroposophical Society to contain it. One may be a first-rate Waldorf teacher and a first-rate spreader of anthroposophy by word and pen in addition, yet hold back from any real commitment to the Society and to the kind of relationships to one's fellow men that are an outgrowth of it anthroposophy. Must it not be admitted that though we have a superb Waldorf School and a faculty that performs far more brilliantly in both the described areas than one could possibly have expected, its members have withdrawn from real concern for and a real fostering of the Society? They came to Stuttgart, have been doing superlatively well what needed doing in both the areas mentioned, but have not committed themselves to serving the Anthroposophical Society; they have failed to take part in its fostering and development.

I beg you to take these words as they are meant. We have had people working energetically and with enthusiasm on the threefold commonwealth. The more active they became in this field, the less activity they devoted to the Society. Now we face the threat of seeing the same thing happen again in the case of able people in the Movement for Religious Renewal. Again, in an especially important area, resources of strength could be withheld from the Society. This is a source of deep anxiety, particularly because of the immeasurably great loss we have just suffered. It makes it necessary for me to speak to you today in the plainest language possible.

For clarity's sake and in order somewhat more adequately to characterize the way we need to work in the Society, I would like to point out another thing that I will have to describe quite differently. In the past four years, during which the Society has seen so much happen, there has been a development with two different aspects. This double way of evolving is characteristic both of the movement I have in mind and of the Society. I am referring to the student, or youth movement.

Let us recall how it began a short while ago. At the time it called itself the Anthroposophical Union for Higher Education. [ANTHROPOSOPHICAL UNION FOR HIGHER EDUCATION publicized in 1920 the two courses on Higher Education given at the Goetheanum in the fall of 1920 and spring of 1921.] It is hard to press these things into any sharply defined form, since they are alive and growing, but we can try. What were its founders (and more especially its godfather, Roman Boos), more or less consciously aiming at? Their goal was to bring the influence of anthroposophy to bear on study in the various scientific fields, to change and reform tendencies that those individuals active in the movement felt were going in the wrong direction. The movement was conceived as affecting what went on in classrooms in the sense that young people studying in them were to introduce a new spirit. That is the way the program adopted at that time should be described.

Then, a little later on in fact, quite recently—another movement made its appearance. I don't want to call it a counter-movement, but it differed from the earlier one. It appeared when, here in Stuttgart, a number of young students came together to foster a concern for universal humanness, humanness with a spiritual-pedagogical overtone. It was not their purpose to bring the influence of anthroposophy directly into classrooms, but instead into another setting entirely: into man's innermost being, into his heart, his spirit, his whole way of feeling. There was no talk, to put it radically, of giving a different tone to words used in the classroom; the point was rather that, here and there among the young, there needed to be some individuals who experience their present youth and their growing older with a different kind of feeling in their hearts because the impulse to do so springs from their innermost being. Since they were not just students but human beings as well, and were growing older as human beings do, they would carry their humanness, conceived in the universally human spirit of anthroposophy, into the classroom also. These young students were not concerned with academic problems encountered in classrooms, but with the young human beings in them. The place was the same in both instances, but the problems were different.

But the Anthroposophical Society can do its work properly only if it is broad-minded enough to be able to find its way to the innermost being of everyone who turns to it for help in his searching and his striving.

Among the various exercises to be found in my book, Knowledge of the Higher Worlds and its Attainment, you will discover six that are to be practiced for a certain definite period of time. One of these is the cultivation of a completely unprejudiced state of mind. Indeed, dear friends, the Anthroposophical Society as a whole needs to cultivate these six virtues, and it is essential that it strive to acquire them. It must be so broadminded that it reaches the humanness of those who turn to it, and so strong that it can meet their needs. One of the problems of the Society showed up in the fact that when I came here a short while ago and found the young people in the picture, the Society had completely withdrawn from them, making a patching up of relationships necessary.

I am speaking a bit radically, but that may help to make my meaning clearer. I wanted, in this example, to show how important it is for the Society to be able to meet life's challenges.

Now let us turn our attention to another matter. For quite some time past, able members of the Society have been at work in the most varied branches of scientific endeavor. I am truly speaking with the greatest inner and outer restraint when I say that we have absolutely top-notch scientists who are not being given the appreciation they deserve from us. They have taken on the responsibility of developing the various branches of science within the Society. In the Society's beginning phase it had to approach people purely as human beings. It simply could not branch out into a whole range of different fields; it had to limit itself to speaking to people from its innermost heart, as one human being speaks to another. Its task was first to win a certain terrain for itself in the world of human hearts before going on to cultivate any other field. Then, since anthroposophy has the capacity to fructify every aspect of culture and civilization, scientists appeared as a matter of course in the Society and were active in their fields. But again, my dear friends, it is possible for a member to be a first-rate scientist and yet ignore the Society's basic needs. A scientist can apply anthroposophical insights to chemistry and physics and the like in the most admirable way and still be a poor anthroposophist. We have seen how able scientists in these very fields have withdrawn all their strength from the parent society, that they have not helped nurture the Society as such. People who, in a simple and direct way, seek anthroposophy in the Society are sometimes disturbed to hear, in the way these scientists still speak with an undertone reminiscent of the chemical or physical fields they come from, for though chemistry, physics, biology and jurisprudence are still connected by a thread with the universally human, the connection has become remote indeed. The essential thing is not to forget the parent. If the Society had not fostered pure anthroposophy in its innermost heart for one and a half decades, the scientists would have found no place in it to do their work. Anthroposophy provided them with what they needed. Now they should consider how much their help is needed in so fostering the Society that some return is made to it for what anthroposophy has contributed to their sciences.

This will perhaps help us to look more closely at what has been going on in a wide range of activities and then to admit a fact that, though it may sound trivial, is actually anything but that. Since 1919, anthroposophy has given birth to many children, but the children have been exceedingly neglectful of their mother.

Now we have to face the frightful disaster of the fire that has left us looking, broken-hearted, at the Goetheanum ruins there in Dornach. We are also confronted by an Anthroposophical Society that, though its roster of members has recently grown a great deal longer, lacks inner stability and itself therefore somewhat resembles a ruin. Of course, we can go on holding branch meetings and hearing about anthroposophy, but everything we now have can be wiped out by our enemies in no time at all if we are not more thoughtful about the problems I have laid before you today.

So my words today have had to be the words of pain and sorrow. This has been a different occasion than those previously held here. But the events I have described and everything that has gone with them force me to end this address in words of sorrow and pain as profoundly justified as my expression of gratitude to those whose hearts and hands helped build the Goetheanum and tried to help at the fire. They are as called for, these expressions of pain, as is the recognition of everything heart-warming that our members far and near have lately been demonstrating. Their purpose is not to blame or criticize anyone, but to challenge us to search our consciences, to become aware of our responsibilities. They are not intended to make people feel depressed, but rather to summon up those forces of heart and spirit that will enable us to go on as a society, as the Anthroposophical Society. We should not let ourselves turn into groups of educators, religious renewers, scientists, groups of the young, the old, the middle-aged. We must be an anthroposophical community conscious of the sources that nourish it and all its offspring. This is something of which we must be keenly aware. Though the Dornach flames have seared our very hearts, may they also steer us to the realization that we need above all else to work together anthroposophically. Let me express this wish to you today, my dear friends, for the special fields too would lose the source of their strength if they were unmindful of their parent. We will certainly have to admit that, due to the difficulties inherent in such relationships, the parent has often been forgotten by just those of her offspring who were most obviously her progeny. But despite the fearful enmity we face, we can perhaps accomplish something if we change our ways before it is too late, as it soon may be. We must realize that we are going to have to work anthroposophically in the Anthroposophical Society, and that our chief common task is to forge a connection between man and that radiant spiritual light from heavenly worlds that seeks him out at the present moment of his evolution. This is the consciousness and this the task to which, while there is still time, we need to be steeled by the Dornach fire whose flames we feel in our very hearts.

Let us bring this about, dear friends! But let me ask you to take with all due weight as well what I have had to say to you today with a sore heart. May my words call forth the strength to work, the will to work, the will to pull together in the Anthroposophical Movement especially. Nobody should take personally the statement that he has been an outstanding contributor to the work of Der Kommende Tag, the Waldorf School faculty, the Movement for Religious Renewal, and so on. May everybody—those both in and outside special fields, the old, the young, the middle-aged—be mindful of the parent society that has brought forth and nurtured them all and in which, as a member of the Society, every specialist must join forces with everybody else. Specialization has flourished far too strongly in our midst, only to decline again because the parent was not kept sufficiently in mind. May the Dornach fire kindle our will to strengthen ourselves to serve the Anthroposophical Society and to work sincerely together with clear purpose!

• 1. MOVEMENT FOR RELIGIOUS RENEWAL. The Christian Community with its center at Stuttgart. The next to last lecture at the Goetheanum on December 30, 1922, is contained in the book, Man and the World of Stars, Anthroposophic Press, New York, 1963.

My dear friends! ¹ If it is necessary to discuss certain questions of the Society's constitution in the individual countries, this is due in particular to the fact that the anthroposophical movement has undergone a certain development in recent years. The Anthroposophical Movement began more or less with the spiritual life that it seeks to convey, and for a long time it worked together with the Theosophical Movement. And in recent years it has become the case that the anthroposophical movement as such is standing before the whole world with a certain necessity and is being judged a lot - and therefore also, which must be a self-evident side effect, is being met with a lot of hostility. The whole form of the anthroposophical movement, not inwardly but outwardly, is different.

Now, in a spiritual movement such as anthroposophy, everything is connected with inner laws, so that one does nothing other than what arises out of the necessity of spiritual life itself, as one recognizes it. So of course in this movement itself no consideration can be given to what comes from outside, whether it be opposition and hostility or recognition. The meaning of the anthroposophical movement must flow purely from the subject itself. One must do nothing but what one recognizes as necessary for a particular age, based on the spiritual life. Any consideration of external factors, be it recognition, be it success, be it contradiction and hostility, leads to a weakening of the spiritual life that should be fostered in such a movement. And that necessarily always gives rise to a kind of conflict: one must follow one's inner forces and, of course, in order for the movement not to perish, one must do what can advance the movement in the world. This always results in a conflict that requires constant vigilance on the part of the members. And so the constitution of the Society must be such that this vigilance is possible, that, as it were, a kind of vacuum is created for such a spiritual movement, an empty free space in which it can truly unfold. This is only possible if the individual groups and the connections between the groups are organized and administered in the right way.

Now, no spiritual movement can flourish in our time that is some kind of special movement of humanity. There is simply an occult, let us say, law that every truly viable and fruitful spiritual movement is universally human, that is, in trivial terms, what is called international in everyday life, is universally human. In the present day and age, if a group of people, rather than the general public, becomes in some form or other the, in a sense, group-centered, egoistic bearer of a spiritual movement, then in that moment universal human progress is harmed, not helped, and not truly furthered.

This matter is not really open to discussion, any more than a law of nature is open to discussion. It is a spiritual law that every spiritual movement that really furthers humanity must be generally human.

Of course, this does not prevent it from being fair to all human groupings. One can be just as fair to one's own nation as to the others. Every nation naturally has more or less of its great impulses to bring to the whole of humanity. And to believe that the international is linked to a disregard for one's own nation, that is not at all justified. It is precisely within the international that the points of view are given to assess one's own nation in the right way and to put it in the right light.

If, therefore, what Mr. Collison has said corresponds to a real, non-illusory judgment, then it is, of course, a deviation, should two groups form as a result, in that one group cannot abandon itself to its national feelings, would like to see a kind of selflessness in it, even to the point of opposing the valuable aspects of its own nation. If you are truly grounded in anthroposophy, if you truly understand the essence of anthroposophy, then it cannot be a matter of even entertaining a different opinion about these things.

Just as there can be no conflict in the world – forgive me for saying this triviality – about the fact that mountain air is good and sea air is good; if people have different constitutions, then one needs mountain air, it is perhaps good for a certain type of disposition to fall ill, the other needs sea air, it is good for him. Just as one cannot understand why someone sent to live in the mountain air rants terribly about the sea air, so one cannot expect that enthusiasm for one's own nation should in any way affect one's international, that is, unbiased judgment of everything in the world that has to do with the cooperation, not the antagonism, of nationalities. So in the real understanding of what the deepest anthroposophical impulse must be, such a dichotomy cannot arise. And of course it must be said: the most essential task of anthroposophical branches is precisely to avoid such dichotomies, to come to an understanding about these things. If things always go so that one group turns against the other and always says, if they do this or that, it is against what Dr. Steiner says, they are not real anthroposophists — if these things then go on in the underground and only ever talk about the fact that there are not homogeneous groups and no general groups, then nothing particularly fruitful can arise. But why should it not be possible for such things to be sorted out through the openness of the discussions in the anthroposophical branches? You see, that is what I would call — in addition to observing the way the outside world relates to anthroposophy, whether in a hostile or friendly way: vigilance within an anthroposophical branch.

One can be awake in life, or one can be asleep. I do not mean the usual states here – we will talk about that in the lecture [in GA 228] – but rather the states in relation to what is happening in the world. One can be asleep even though one appears to be awake on the outside. But to be asleep really means nothing more than to divert one's attention from something. When we really sleep at night, it also means nothing more than diverting our attention from everything that can occupy us in the earthly world. We then turn our attention to things for which we do not yet have the perceptive faculty in the present human evolution. That is why sleeping [to what is happening in the world] means nothing more than diverting our attention from something. But as anthroposophists we must take a keen interest in what is going on in the world. The world is interested in anthroposophy; if we are not interested in it, the world will become antagonistic. This requires vigilance. And it is in the spirit of this vigilance that the Anthroposophical Society as a whole must now be constituted. That is why I have been emphasizing for some time the need to organize the individual national societies into national associations. Such national associations have been formed in Switzerland, Germany, Czechoslovakia and Norway, and this year they will be established in Austria and the Netherlands, and so on. And it is of the utmost importance that such a national society also be formed here and that these individual national societies in turn join together to form the International Anthroposophical Society, which in the future can have its center in Dornach. As was planned at the delegates' meeting in July 1923 in Dornach, the merger to form the international society is to take place at Christmas in Dornach.

But this can only happen if the national societies have organized themselves in advance, because only something that has already been formed can join together. And so it would be good if the constitution of the English Anthroposophical Society emerged from the negotiations of this meeting as a national body, with the tendency to then merge with the international society at Christmas and then have the national center in London and the international center in Dornach, Switzerland. That would be good.

That is basically all I can recommend myself. Of course, everything that is to be done in detail and in particular must depend on what the friends here consider to be best.

If I may point out anything, it is that in the future there must be a much stronger connection, a much stronger collaboration, between anthroposophists in all countries. Again and again, wherever I go, I am made aware that there is a real longing to hear about what is happening here or there. Today, anthroposophists live, one can truly say, almost in the whole civilized world, but they know very little about each other. Sometimes it is so strong that someone living on one street does not even know that someone else lives around the corner. They know nothing about each other. And one longs for an international organ of communication. But this cannot be created out of the idea, but only when the national groups are really there and have come together as an international group. Then we in Dornach will also really find the possibilities for creating such an understanding across the whole world. Until now, it has always been aimed at in the abstract. When the journal Das Goetheanum was founded in Dornach, the idea was of course that it should convey messages everywhere. Yes, but first it has to be received! First everything has to be reported to Dornach, and then it can be passed on from there. Then we also get international perceptions and international opinions. That would be the way to go. But it cannot be done from here; it can only be achieved through genuine international cooperation.

A national group like this has also been set up in France under the General Secretariat of Mlle. Sauerwein.

As for the other issues discussed here, it seems to me that not a single obstacle emerges from all the individual statements made, that Mr. Collison has the very best prerequisites for his General Secretariat. I cannot see that anything speaks against it. The things that he himself has expressed here, namely about Freemasonry, do not seem to me to be at all decisive. Because – please forgive me for having to be trivial about such things, but they are things of everyday life, and in everyday life some everyday things happen. Please forgive me for having to be trivial about this – I have always said, when it was a matter of whether someone should come into the anthroposophical movement from some other movement – in this case, freemasonry was meant – what matters is not what someone is in some other movement, but that when he enters this anthroposophical movement, he is a good anthroposophist. So it is really not a matter of whether someone also belongs, let us say, to a shoemakers' guild or a locksmiths' guild – I am not making any comparisons, I am just stating the principle. It does not need to be the case that, just because he belongs to a shoemakers' or locksmiths' guild and so on, it in any way detracts from what is anthroposophical in him. If he is a good anthroposophist, that is what matters for the anthroposophical movement. Whether he is a good, bad or mediocre freemason is of no concern to the Anthroposophical Society. And I actually find it somewhat strange that people pay attention to the judgments that one or the other has, if Mr. Collison's suspicions should be correct – otherwise it would be modified –; I always say: among anthroposophists this does not happen, but in general life it does happen that one or the other makes an unwise judgment. And it would be an unwise judgment to make the value of a member as an anthroposophist dependent on whether he is a Freemason or not.

I answered Mr. Collison's question in the Netherlands from this point of view. I said that a number of the oldest and most valuable members are Freemasons. I cannot imagine how an obstacle could arise from some form of Freemasonry for belonging to the Anthroposophical Society. I cannot imagine it at all. I think the Anthroposophical movement wants to be something in itself. It would not be able to bear fruit in the world if it did not work positively out of itself, let me use the expression, out of its own seed. That is what matters: what it works positively. How it appears when compared with one thing or another is not important. When I buy a suit, it is important that it suits my taste and arises out of my intentions. What does it matter if someone comes and says: “That suit doesn't look like the one the other person is wearing.” The point is really not to wear the other person's suit, but one's own. You don't put on freemasonry when you become an anthroposophist. So it is actually quite impossible to make this judgment.

But of course there is something else behind such a thing. It becomes - forgive me for saying so - in my opinion anthroposophy is not always valued highly enough by the members. There is a tendency in present-day humanity to always value more highly that which is older, which has more fuss about it, which acts more mysteriously, and so on, and to disparage that which appears openly and honestly simple, judging it by the standard of the fuss and the like, which presents itself in an indeterminate way. It is a kind of disparagement of the anthroposophical movement when it is judged in such a way that one says: it can be harmed by the fact that this or that member comes from this or that other movement. — It would have to be terribly weak if it could be harmed by such things!

So I think what is really behind it is that somewhere or other there is always a secret longing to say: this person or that person is not a good anthroposophist. —Then you look for reasons. We are always looking for reasons for what we like or dislike. We do not base our liking on the reasons, but we look for reasons for what we like or dislike. We look for reasons and then find, for example, that the other person is a Freemason and therefore cannot be a proper Anthroposophist, and so on. — One should see whether he is an Anthroposophist, a genuine one, and only then come to the judgment that he belongs or does not belong; one should not look at whether he is a Freemason or something like that.

This always reminds me of a judgment I heard in enlightened Weimar – but I don't mean that ironically, it's something I really heard once in the market square: Two women were talking, and one said of someone that he was a liberal. The other said, “What, a liberal is he? I've known him for years, he's a shoemaker!”

The thing is, though, that you would be judged in much the same way if you said: Freemasons can't be part of the anthroposophical movement!

It's not that I, myself, if it weren't for the opposition or hostility, would refrain from judging other contemporary movements. Of course, the moment hostility, open or secret, comes from some movement, then it is a matter of taking a stand. But as long as that is not the case, it is not possible to take any stand on other movements, officially or unofficially. And that is even one of the inner laws of development of such a movement as anthroposophy. If you are constantly pushing to one side and looking to the other, you do not have the freedom to proceed positively from your own inner seed of the matter. You have to try to surrender completely to your inner impulses, not to go outwards. And I think that should be the basis of the negotiations. And if this is the actual basis of the negotiations, then I think everything will go quite well.

I believe that Mr. Collison will accept the General Secretariat from this point of view, which will undoubtedly be his. He is the man who has done the most for the translation and distribution of anthroposophical literature here in England and in the colonies; he will also be able to represent and best serve the impulsive power of the Society here in the future. It is obvious that a man like Mr. Collison cannot write every letter himself, nor be present at every meeting or council. He must therefore have a truly capable secretary. The way in which the board is composed here is something that the hearts of the members, who take the position just described and forget for a while what other difficulties there are here, will best find out for themselves from their community. I believe that this is the best way to address the question at hand.

Dr. Steiner on the proposal to add his name to the Anthroposophical Society:

Just a few words on this: because of the form that the anthroposophical movement has taken over the years, as I mentioned earlier, it is always a difficult question for me to relate to something that is named externally. I have already pointed out that the anthroposophical movement has certain laws of its own for a spiritual movement of this kind, and that is what naturally makes me think again and again when I am dealing with a question like the one that Mr. Dunlop put to me a few days ago, or actually months ago, at last year's meeting, and so it is necessary for me to say a few words about the matter here.

Externally, the anthroposophical movement must be vigilantly represented. Internally, as I have already said today, it must work purely from its own germ and do nothing but that which is in accordance with real occult laws. This is why, for a long time now, in relation to everything that is really going on between me and the anthroposophical movement, I have wanted to be nothing in relation to society other than what arises from what I am absolutely necessary for within society.

So, within society itself, so to speak, I want to be nothing other than what comes about by doing certain things that have to be done by me.

In a certain respect, this will also apply to Dr. Steiner, with whom this has been discussed again and again for years, that she too should be considered, should be named, if one may say so, as that which must be done by her.

From this the position arises by itself. And this position should be improved neither by choice nor by anything else – or mostly it is only worsened – but it should be so that everything that exists in the relationship arises directly from the way in which the personalities are needed.

Now, of course, it is important that this be understood as the basis entirely within society, then, with regard to what one considers necessary, one can fully appreciate such reasons as those put forward by Mr. Dunlop. And insofar as it is understood in society that they are only the reasons that Mr. Dunlop has presented, in the representation, also the ideal representation of the company to the outside world - the identification of the company with me in a certain respect - insofar as these are the only reasons that perhaps make it desirable today that I do not resist accepting what is offered here for this area, I want to do it. But that is just one thing: accepting, taking on this name. The other thing, however, is that society really understands that I draw no other conclusion from such an official designation than the one I have drawn from the obviousness of the facts so far: I do not want to gain any other power, any other prestige, any other authority that may be reminiscent of a right by such a naming, but only want to work in society as it arises from the matter itself. I only want to be in society what I must be one day because the things that come into consideration want to be made by me. And that is what makes the matter a duality. Both sides must be given sufficient consideration.

If that is the case – and that is indeed the intention of Mr. Dunlop, the reasons have emerged from it – then there is nothing to prevent Mr. Dunlop's proposal from being accepted. I do not believe that it will lead to anything other than what I cannot deviate from, not even a single step. The anthroposophical movement must remain an inner one, must in certain respects bear the esoteric character, so that nothing else is done by myself than what directly arises from the matter. So the matter must be viewed only really thoroughly in this way: I do not strive for any other power than that which arises from the matter itself. I must do this because of the laws of spiritual movement. And precisely in view of the way in which the Anthroposophical Society and movement are situated in the world today, it must be most strictly observed that we do not deviate from what is prescribed by the inner laws of the movement itself.

• 1. No minutes of the proceedings exist, except for Rudolf Steiner's address, which was taken down in shorthand by Helene Finckh.

The meeting was opened on Sunday, February 25, 1923, at 8:00 p.m., with a welcoming address by the chairman, Mr. Emil Leinhas of Stuttgart. Mr. Leinhas warmly welcomed Dr. Rudolf Steiner and Mrs. Marie Steiner, as well as the delegates and members of the Anthroposophical Society. He pointed out that the Anthroposophical Society had reached a significant turning point in its development and that it was now important for every single member to grasp the tasks of the Society with full awareness. Mr. Leinhas spoke of the feelings of terrible pain and “grief at the loss of our Goetheanum. He then pointed out the tasks of the Society with regard to the destroyed Goetheanum, the new art of eurythmy, the Waldorf School, the “Coming Day” and the other enterprises, as well as with regard to the religious movement and also with regard to the well-organized opposition to anthroposophy. He called for criticism to be unsparing, for things to be said freely and unembellished, but also for positive proposals for renewal not to be forgotten and for everything to be said in such a way that it is felt that the whole person is behind it with his or her lively interest and will, fired by the high ideals of truth, beauty and goodness. “We represent the most glorious cause in the world!” exclaimed Mr. Leinhas. “A cause that must not perish, no matter how much Europe falls prey to the forces of decline. Anthroposophy will live; for Anthroposophy is a new world!” He pointed out in urgent words the tremendous seriousness of the situation, the responsibility to the spiritual world and the magnitude of our task, which can only be fulfilled through love and enthusiasm for the cause.

Dr. Eugen Kolisko, Stuttgart: Lecture on The Situation of the Anthroposophical Society.

We have come together at an exceptionally important moment for our Society. This is the first significant meeting since the Anthroposophical Society was founded that is devoted solely to the affairs of the Society. There is an enormous difference between the circumstances of that time and those of today. At that time, all members were extremely enthusiastic about the affairs of the Society. When it was founded, leadership was taken on by three individuals, and the others followed suit. This was the beginning of the Society's self-management. The task of such independent leadership was thus already set for it at that time.

In those days there was a strong sense of union. Dr. Steiner's cycle of lectures and travels, who, through his tireless work between all branches, groups and individuals, always formed a mediating element, had contributed to this. The building of the Goetheanum, which has now been snatched from us, was a living testimony to the enthusiasm that united our members. At that time, an intense sense of belonging had also developed through the shared birth pangs of the Anthroposophical Society at the time of its separation from the Theosophical Society. Every member was aware of what was being undertaken by the opponents of the time. Each felt it as directed against his own person. What was available as achievements from individual personalities of the Society was known by everyone, and experienced by them. In the branches, intensive and constant inner work was done in the most diverse places through tireless work. In short, despite many bad habits and sectarianism that still existed as a tradition from the Theosophical Society, the Anthroposophical Society proved to be a reality in these early days. And we experienced this reality again on the terrible night of the fire on December 31, when everyone worked together in a way that was only possible because of a real sense of connection through anthroposophy.

However, a new phase of the movement began in 1919 with the founding of various initiatives by individuals from the bosom of society. I am referring to the movement for the threefold social order, the “Kommende Tag” (the coming day), the Waldorf school movement, the university movement, the research institutes and, finally, the movement for religious renewal. All the enthusiasm went into these foundations. The Society took action at that time. Leading circles emerged. Everyone flocked to Stuttgart. What disappeared, however, was the enthusiasm for the affairs of the Society itself. It was an enormous responsibility that the founders of the institutions took upon themselves. If these personalities did not stay the course, the consequences would fall back on the Anthroposophical Society. Through these foundations, something universal was to be given on the one hand, and wide circles were to be led to the anthroposophical movement. On the other hand, however, the Anthroposophical Society had to develop along with it, it had to keep pace with the foundations.

But the leading circles of the Society were not aware that the Society had to be consciously led in a new way. Dr. Steiner could no longer, as he had done before, take the leadership of the Society into his own hands. The leadership turned all its attention to representing the daughter movements. The individual members felt less and less supported by the leadership; they felt, so to speak, abandoned and isolated. The branch leaders also had no support from the leadership. They were completely alone. Members flocked to them, but no one took them under their wing. No measures were taken to turn the members into active participants in the common cause. In fact, the leadership had abandoned the periphery.

Looking back at developments in recent years, it must be said that the best forces in society went to Stuttgart, but did not give back to the membership at the periphery what they themselves gained through their work there. No information came out from the leadership to the members of the Society. There was no awareness that a continuous stream of messages about the spiritual wealth conveyed by Dr. Steiner, about the tasks of the Society, the achievements in the same, the opposition, etc. had to flow out.

And in Stuttgart, too, people had no heart for the Anthroposophical Society. We had good representatives of the individual daughter movements, good teachers, representatives of the three-folding movement, religious renewal, etc., but almost no good co-workers in the Anthroposophical Society. As Dr. Steiner mentioned in one of his last lectures here, the mother, the Anthroposophical Society, was increasingly neglected. The enthusiasm that people had from the early days was carried into the individual daughter movements, but they did not move on to working for the Society itself and looking at the necessity of continuing to cultivate the central anthroposophical life. “You can work without the Society.” That was the great error that existed in general.

This tendency developed particularly in Stuttgart. The individual personalities in the enterprises carried a scientific life, etc., that had not yet been completely transformed, into the Society from the daughter movements. Much specialization was carried into the branches in an unprocessed state, so to speak. The anthroposophical life of the branch could not keep pace with the rationalizations. In the face of the mostly successful conferences and other external events, people were unable to really solve the problems that arose for community life.

That was the “Stuttgart system”. In Stuttgart, researchers, teachers, etc. faced each other individually. A bureaucracy arose in Stuttgart. Many who came here felt a certain icy coldness. It was simply not possible to combine these two things in one person, when it was no longer possible, as it was before, to practice Anthroposophy only in one's private life and to have one's profession alongside it.

Actually, the leadership of the Society would have had to double, or even increase tenfold, its activities in order to continue anthroposophical life in the right way and to strengthen it. If the Anthroposophical Society as such does not make progress, ultimately the individual foundations will also suffer; for without the real Anthroposophical Society the foundations would not have been possible.

This duplication of concern for anthroposophical matters did not occur. There was a lack of awareness among the leaders and also among most members that the Society had to be brought to a level that could do justice to the fertility of anthroposophy in all fields. On the other hand, there was a lack of cooperation between the leadership and the members of the branches everywhere. Even at the time of the threefold social order movement, it was not pointed out that the central anthroposophical life should have been cultivated to an even greater extent than before. People heard about the tasks of the threefold social order movement, but not about the tasks of the mother, anthroposophy. The same lack of information also became apparent when the religious renewal movement came into being. Here too, the leadership did not provide the members with any information that could have clarified the situation. There was also a dwindling awareness of what anthroposophy can offer people by striving for a union of the scientific, artistic and religious.

This deficiency is also connected with the most recent events here in Stuttgart. To understand this, we must touch on the background to the appeal that has now been sent to the members. This prehistory began even before the Dornach catastrophe, had nothing to do with it, because it was rooted in the long history of the Society, as just described. The decision taken at the Stuttgart Congress (1921), when the new Central Executive Council was constituted, to create an organization of trust within the Society, had not been fulfilled. There was no real cooperation in the Central Board. On December 10, 1922, a conversation took place between Dr. Steiner and Mr. Uehli, a member of the Central Board. During this conversation, Dr. Steiner pointed out that either the Central Board had to bring about a consolidation of the Society by consulting with other prominent figures, or that it would have to address the members without the Board. Mr. Uehli did not recognize the scope and seriousness of this situation. Due to disagreements within the board of directors, this task was not carried out.¹ After the catastrophe at Dornach, a number of prominent individuals took the initiative and a large number of meetings were held, during some of which very strong criticism was expressed of the activities of the Central Board to date. Following this, Mr. Uehli resigned from his position as a member of the Central Board, and Dr. Unger did so conditionally, in case the initiative of the aforementioned prominent individuals should lead to positive goals. However, this did not happen. Dr. Steiner then gave a series of lectures here in Stuttgart on the problems of society, and further discussions also took place. Dr. Steiner had already characterized the “Stuttgart system” in his lecture on 6 January 1923 in Dornach, and this was also done in the most forceful way here in Stuttgart.

It became apparent that all these questions could only be resolved if a meeting were convened at which the entire membership would be called upon to participate.

Initially, after Mr. Uehli's resignation, a “provisional central committee” was formed by co-opting Dr. Eugen Kolisko. However, this solution could only be a provisional one. After long negotiations, this committee, which has signed the appeal, was formed as a kind of representative body for the individual institutions. It was co-opted by the provisional board. The intention was to make it clear that such a provisional body of trust could only be formed from the institutions and that these institutions intended to give back to the Anthroposophical Society what they had received from it. You can see from the composition of the committee that the most important institutions are represented in it: “Kommender Tag”, the Waldorf School, both publishers, the newspaper, the movement for religious renewal, the old central board, the scattered external interests.

We must therefore focus all our attention on the Society itself. For what is the situation of the Anthroposophical Society? We are facing a world of enemies without inner unity, and the members do not even know how strong they are and how they are working to put an end to the entire anthroposophical movement. We must be clear about this: the less is happening for the Society, the more a vacuum is forming within, and the more the opposition outside is strengthening and expanding. It will be necessary for the membership to become acquainted with this antagonism and its motives through reports, so that, through this knowledge, they can see how something can be done about it.

And then contact must be re-established between the leadership and the Society so that each individual member can take part in what is being achieved. The “Stuttgart system” must be broken. Only when there are open ears for all the needs of the membership can an anthroposophical life arise again. In the course of this conference, the individual institutions will have the opportunity to present their work and their status, so that this can also be made known to the members.

Now the Anthroposophical Society has the duty to take care of its internal affairs above all. For it is the neglect of the Society's internal affairs that has led to the current situation. Then the Society will not present an obstacle to the spread of anthroposophy, as has been the case so far. Then everyone who longs for anthroposophy can be satisfied within the Society, and those on the outside will not be repelled.

The delegates may now give a picture of the state of anthroposophical life in the branches. Then, through discussion, the possibility will arise for anthroposophical matters to be properly discussed, so that everyone can work on the reorganization of anthroposophical life.

Mr. Emil Leinhas, Stuttgart: It will now be necessary to supplement Dr. Kolisko's report by having the friends express their views on the tasks of the Society. The debate on this is to be opened now.

Mr. Kurt Goldstein, Berlin, suggests that the usual chronological order of speakers not be followed for the debate, but rather the logical order. — The motion is rejected.

Prof. Hermann Craemer, Bonn: In the branches outside, one often misses the kind of vibrancy of intellectual life that gives strength of will and clarity of thought. But the power and strength of community life is not only, as has been emphasized so far, lacking in the relationship between the leadership and the members, but also among the members themselves. If one takes Stuttgart as a whole and compares it with other branches, one sees the same phenomena within the branches. Dr. Kolisko thought that the problems in the branches were often due to the fact that the branches were put at the service of the threefold order. But the real reason for the problems is that the threefold order was brought in without being thought through. Half unconsciously, the members said to themselves: I only accept the ideas of threefolding because otherwise I would not be accepted as a full member. — We are told that there is still a strong belief in authority in our movement, so that the strength of our movement is highly endangered. But Dr. Steiner himself never gives so-called “instructions” that we should follow. Nevertheless, people often refer to Dr. Steiner in such a way as to say, “Yes, but... Dr. Steiner said this or that here or there.” This must not be allowed to form an argument in our lives.

What is needed, therefore, is independent action based on full responsibility, even at the risk of making a mistake. And as long as one cannot follow up criticism with something positive, one can spare oneself the criticism.

Mrs. Else Pfläumer, Dresden: I came here in response to the document that was titled “Call”. And from all that came to me from what was titled “Call”, something like the air of death came; as if one wanted to organize something that is actually an organism, what the body wants to become to a human, to the human “Anthroposophy”. And so I think we would really like to profess this “human being” first, and then begin to deal with this organism.

At the last college course, Dr. Steiner spoke the word: Anthroposophy is a human being. When this word fell into me, an image stood before me: John on the cross, in his arms Mother Sophia. “Behold, this is your mother. And he took her to his heart.

And just as anthroposophy entered my life, I felt that it was the power of catharsis, the power of Mother Sophia. And so I think: we experienced on New Year's Eve how a person died in our building. And before we can think of building a new structure, we must create, we must pour our heart and soul into it, so that the structure of this body of anthroposophy can arise. Only then can we think of it becoming Vitae Sophia, with which one can establish something, with which one can enter into science, which one can carry as anthroposophy into the religious movement. When we bring what Dr. Steiner transmits to us, as he gives it to us, into science, it is sometimes as if we had stolen something, if it has not come to life, if it has not simply become the power of catharsis.

I cannot express myself very well, but that is how it surges and surges within me. And I hope that the other people who can express it, who have the strength to express what I have just been able to say from my feelings, will accept it and fertilize it so that something really comes of our meeting. That we not only say: this or that is our task, but that we simply profess what has driven us into anthroposophy; that we stand by our longing, which has become a germ in the Anthroposophical Society, and that, when we grasp this longing, which has actually brought down the germ of an Anthroposophical Society, we allow this germ to grow, so that a society has grown and not been organized.

Mr. Otto Westphal, Hamburg, speaks to the agenda. He wants to help ensure that vigilance reigns from the very beginning of our meeting. Since he is not speaking to the agenda, he is interrupted.

Mr. Josef Elkan, Munich, explains that he had come to Stuttgart with a very specific agenda. He would like to express the most important of these in the form of a few wishes. First of all, he hopes that the Central Executive Committee that comes to the fore of the movement is aware of the tasks that need to be accomplished to bring the movement to the appropriate level. But for this it is also necessary, above all, that guidelines be provided by the center, on the one hand, while, on the other, the autonomy of the branches is fully maintained. The admission of members and the type of introductory courses cannot be handled according to certain rules or directives. But if the branch leaders were sufficiently informed by the central committee, they would be able to fully execute the will of the central committee. Now it would be important to organize the deliberations in such a way that the delegates return home with positive results.

Mr. Paul Knoop, Bochum, would like to see an appeal made to young people to join the movement.

Mr. Emil Leinhas, Stuttgart, reminds the meeting that the youth movement is still to be discussed.

Dr. Wilhelm Zitkowsky, Linz, speaks on the topic of “Organization of the Branches”. He warns against “encapsulating the branches from the outside world”. He suggests that more consideration be given to creating individual smaller working groups than has been the case so far. In particular, the “Philosophy of Freedom” should be addressed in such working groups, since without a philosophical basis, Anthroposophy cannot be brought to the outside world. The impulses of the book “How to Know Higher Worlds” must be realized.

Dr. Friedrich Rittelmeyer of Stuttgart points out the extreme seriousness of the situation in the face of the very numerous opponents. A meeting of “non-anthroposophical experts on anthroposophy” took place, at which the well-known accusations were again put forward and widely disseminated by sending the minutes. The main problem that the Society now faces, especially as a result of the cult movement, is the question of how the Anthroposophical Society can achieve true community on the basis of its own spiritual assumptions. They have made an egoism out of anthroposophy and should have made a great love of humanity out of it. We live on an island and should stand as a visible place of pilgrimage with a human sanctuary in culture. If the word anthroposophy really becomes truth inwardly, if knowledge becomes a personal wisdom and through it a new humanity, then and only then would the working class, would young people be able to gain trust.

Mrs. Lili-Maria Eljakim-Werner, Vienna, singles out some things in relation to the work in the outside world: namely, how a certain way of working has benefited us and how another way has harmed us. This should be communicated and exchanged. For example, “encapsulation” is particularly harmful if one wants to bring anthroposophy to people. If one wants to do this, then one must know people as they are. For this it would be desirable to also occupy oneself with other movements. One should not describe such movements as inferior. The people there have good will; but we have the answers to the questions that move them. One must note that there is a difference between whether Dr. Steiner says something or we do. If we have not experienced it ourselves, it is knowledge and not insight. Above all, criticism from opponents that is condescending is harmful. Dr. Steiner presents facts, and we have presented the judgments that we have formed from them to the world. Others must realize that there is something behind anthroposophy that one must know. We Anthroposophists stand between the world and Anthroposophy.

Mr. Louis Werbeck, Hamburg: Demands are being made here for things that are outdated or taken for granted. Since the congress, we have been waiting for the co-option of the Central Board via Germany to become a reality. This expansion has not materialized. It is necessary for the Central Council to have representatives in many places who work in harmony with Stuttgart. But things must be ripe. The other necessity points to community life. We need forms of communication, even if they are not exactly cultic. Things can be presented in such a way that everyone can understand them. Spiritual knowledge can be popularized in a good sense. The branches should develop into anthroposophical colleges. Each individual can achieve more than he or she realizes. Dr. Eugen Kolisko, Stuttgart: The difficulties in society are connected with the fact that the best minds have been called here. One could say that if only one could send them all back to where they came from, everything would be all right. What was meant by this was that all those who work in the Stuttgart institutions today have done intensive anthroposophical work in the branches, some of them even as branch leaders. But then everything that had to do with the founding would have to be undone, and we cannot simply restore the conditions of 1918. Besides, new forces that were to come from outside were more repelled than attracted. Building community is the most important problem, but it is particularly difficult here. For we cannot, as in the case of religious renewal, rely on a cult that brings about community, but we must start from the individualities and still have community building. The magnitude of the achievements of anthroposophy has not been recognized in society at all. What could not have been done for eurythmy? In many cases, the tasks that need to be solved are not even known. Unfortunately, today's discussion did not provide a picture of the situation in the individual branches: but we cannot form an opinion if the delegates themselves do not give us such a picture of the situation in the Society.

End 11 a.m.

• 1. The situation was that Mr. Uehli, not having recognized the scope of this task, saw no reason to inform Dr. Unger of it. It was only on December 24 that a conversation took place in which, among other things, steps for the reorganization of the Society were discussed. Dr. Unger only learned on January 17 that Dr. Steiner had given such an instruction.

Newsletter from the Youth Section of the School of Spiritual Science.

The announcement of the “Section for the Spiritual Strivings of Youth” at the Goetheanum has brought forth encouraging responses from the youth community. Representatives of the “Free Anthroposophical Society” and the younger members living at the Goetheanum have expressed to the Executive Council of the Anthroposophical Society their full and wholehearted readiness to take part in the undertaking.

I see in both expressions valuable starting points for a good part of the work of our Society. If it can build a bridge between older and younger people of our age, then it will accomplish an important task.

What can be read between the lines of the two letters can be put into words: our youth speaks in a tone whose timbre is new in the development of humanity. One feels that the soul's eye is not directed towards the continuation of what can be inherited from the preceding time and increased in the present. It is turned towards the irruption of a new life from the regions where not time is developed but the eternal is revealed.

If the older person wants to be understood by the youth today, he must let the eternal prevail as the driving force in his relationship to the temporal. And he must do this in a way that the youth understands.

It is said that young people do not want to engage with old age, do not want to accept anything from the insight gained from it, from the experience matured from it. — Today, the older person expresses this from his displeasure at the behavior of young people. It is true: young people separate themselves from old age; they want to be among themselves. They do not want to listen to what comes from old age.

One can become concerned about this fact. Because these young people will grow old one day. They will not be able to continue their behavior into old age. They want to be really young. They ask how one can be “really young”. They will no longer be able to do that when they themselves have entered old age.

Therefore, the older person says, youth should abandon its arrogance and look up to old age again, to see the goal towards which its mind's eye must be directed.

By saying this, one thinks that it is because of youth that it is not attracted to the older person.

But young people could not help but look up to older people and take them as role models if they were really “old”. For the human soul, and especially the young soul, is such that it turns to what is foreign to it in order to unite it with itself.

Now, however, today's youth do not see something in the older person that seems both alien and worthy of appropriation to them as human beings. For the older person today is not really “old”. He has absorbed the content of much, he can talk about much. But he has not brought this much to human maturity. He has grown older in years; but he has not grown in his soul with his years. He still speaks from the brain that has grown old, just as he spoke from the young one. Youth feels this. It does not feel “maturity” when it is with older people, but rather its own young state of mind in the aged bodies. And so it turns away, because this does not appear to it to be truth.

Through decades of knowledge in the field of knowledge, older people have developed the opinion that one cannot know anything about the spiritual in the things and processes of the world. When young people hear this, they must get the feeling that the older person has nothing to say to them, because they can get the “not knowing” themselves; they will only listen to the old person if the “knowledge” comes from him. Talking about “not knowing” is tolerable when it is done with freshness, with youthful freshness. But to hear about “not knowing” when it comes to the aging brain, that deserts the soul, especially the young soul.

Today, young people turn away from older people not because they have grown old, but because they have remained young, because they have not understood how to grow old in the right way. Older people today need this self-knowledge.

But one can only grow old in the right way if one allows the spirit in the soul to unfold. If this happens, then one has in an aged body that which is in harmony with it. Then one will be able to offer young people not only what time has developed in the body, but also what the eternal reveals from the spirit.

Wherever there is a sincere search for spiritual experience, there can be found the field in which youth and older people can come together again. It is an empty phrase to say: you have to be 'young' with young people. No, you have to understand the right way to be 'old' among young people as an older person.

Young people like to criticize what comes from older people. That is their right. For they must one day carry that to which the ancients have not yet brought in the progress of humanity. But one is not a true older person if one merely criticizes as well. Young people may put up with this for a while because they do not need to be annoyed by contradiction; but in the end they will tire of the “old young” because their voice is too harsh and criticism has more life in youthful voices.

In its search for the spirit, anthroposophy would like to find a field in which young and old people enjoy coming together. The Executive Council of the Anthroposophical Society can be pleased that its announcement has been received by young people in the way it has been. But the active members of the Anthroposophical Society will not leave the Executive Council in the lurch either. Because at the same time as I am receiving approval from one side, I am also receiving a letter from the other side that contains words to which anyone who belongs to the Anthroposophical Society with their heart must listen. “The day may come when we young people will have to break away from the Anthroposophical Society, just as you once had to break away from the Theosophical Society.”

This day would come if we in the Anthroposophical Society are unable to realize in the near future what is meant by the announcement of a “Youth Section”. Hopefully the active members of the Anthroposophical Society will move in the direction of the Executive Council at the Goetheanum, so that the day may come when we can say of the young people: we must unite ever more closely with Anthroposophy.

This time I have spoken to the older members of the Anthroposophical Society about the “youth”; in the next issue I would like to tell the youth what is on my mind.