The Rudolf Steiner Archive

The following question is posed: “How should health and illness be understood in terms of the ‘law of karma’?”

Since a more detailed explanation of this question will appear soon, the answer can be given briefly for now. As in all things that concern human beings, so also in relation to health and illness, the matter must not be conceived as if they were simply “punishment” and “reward” for what he, the human being, has done in an earlier life, or perhaps even in “this” life. For example, a person may be struck down by an illness for which no cause can be found, either in a previous life or in the present one. Then the illness enters the human life as a “first” event, so to speak, and is itself a “first” cause. It will then have its effect in some way in the following life. The law of karma works everywhere, but one should not think that one has only effects in the past; one can also have causes whose effects lie in the future. According to occult experience, many things can be said about the lawful connections. For example, things that affect the astral body in one life appear as a predisposition of the etheric body in the next. If a person lies frequently in his life, then in this life it is only a characteristic of the astral body that can be attributed to it. But the repetition of 'lying is gradually communicated to the etheric body, and as a consequence, in a next life a frivolous, phlegmatic nature of the personality appears, which is based on certain characteristics of the etheric body. If a person causes a great deal of pain to his fellow human beings, this is also initially based on characteristics of the astral body; but here too, repetition has the effect of communicating something to the etheric body, which manifests itself in the next life as a melancholic disposition, which is also based on characteristics of the etheric body. A further example may be cited. If a person develops a certain senseless habit, this is based in the corresponding life on characteristics of the etheric body. In the next life, however, it becomes apparent that this habit has affected the composition of the physical body. And it is precisely this effect that manifests itself as a predisposition to illness. The cause of a morbid disposition can be recognized in the development of bad habits in a previous life. But all these connections are very complicated, and one can only speak of certain things on the basis of individual, real occult experiences. Health is generally the effect of good, meaningful habits in a previous life. For example, according to the occult research available, the following can be said for individual cases: a thoughtless life leads to a light-hearted disposition in the next existence, which manifests itself in particular in forgetfulness, amnesia; in a further life, forgetfulness appears as a pathological disposition, which is currently often referred to as “nervousness”. The law of karma will only be properly understood when it is not understood in the sense of ordinary human justice, but in a much higher sense.

The aim is for the articles in this section of the journal to provide an overview of contemporary cultural life. The fact that this first chapter is much shorter than those that will follow is due to the fact that in the first issue the space had to be devoted primarily to fundamental presentations of our aims and methods. However, it is not unworldly theories and dogmas that are to be cultivated here, but direct life. The spiritual eye should look in all directions to explore the paths of the soul and the world spirit. The science, art, moral and social culture of the present day should be put into the perspective that makes this journal its own. Only such an approach can truly be fruitful in the sense of an understanding of the spiritual laws of the world. — Whoever has something to contribute to such an approach will always have access to this part of our journal. Every short note and every longer exposition in this field will always be welcome. Only the one thing will have to be taken into account: our point of view cannot have opponents in the sense that a dry intellectual insight and a passionate dogmatics have them. For them there is a lesser and a more far-reaching knowledge; but nothing absolutely “true” and “false”. “Error” occurs only when a limited knowledge wants to pass judgment on things that lie outside its field of vision. For the person who sees through the true facts of the matter, it cannot be a matter of a so-called logical refutation, but solely and exclusively a matter of understanding how someone, from his point of view, comes to his judgments; and to show how he should rise from this point of view to a higher one. The point of view that Vedanta wisdom adopts when answering the materialist, for example, is the one adopted in this journal: “Everything is fine with you, my dear brother, since your hypothesis suits you... But... do you have any evidence to support your claim? Have you proven it? If you have not done so, why are you annoyed? Why are you angry with us? You have only a hypothesis without any possibility of proving it; but we give you a method by which you can prove our assertions yourself, if you want to take the trouble. Be a little more tolerant of us.” (See ‘The Secret Philosophy of the Indians.’ By Bramacharin Bodhabhikshu.)

Here, attention should immediately be drawn to contemporary views that are in stark contrast to all actual spiritual knowledge. These views are clearly and sharply presented in a remarkable book that was recently published: “The Creative Power of the Imagination” (published in German: Bonn, Verlag von Emil Strauß, 1902). Its author is the French philosopher Th. Ribot. He is known for his commendable research on “will” and “memory.” What he has to say is characteristic of a certain “scientific” way of thinking in the present day. From the point of view of this way of thinking, he will and must condemn what this journal has set out to cultivate. For him, it can only be: subject of “mystical fantasy.” He discusses this “mystical fantasy” (see pages 152ff. of the book mentioned). He summarizes his judgment as follows: “In its free sweep, in its diversity and richness, mystical fantasy is second to no other fantasy, not even to the aesthetic fantasy, although the latter, according to general opinion, is the type of fantasy par excellence. By the most daring analogies, it has constructed world views almost exclusively from feelings and images, and symbols are the material of its towering buildings... This is how animated abstractions, allegorical beings, successors to the old gods and spirits come into being” (pp. 161-162). Why does Ribot see only creatures of an unbridled imagination in the ideas of the mystic? And why does he not see them in the conceptions of the modern scientist? The reason lies in Ribot's limited outlook. And since Ribot is one of the best and most astute of our modern scientists, his point of view is particularly noteworthy. The outlook of this science knows only experiences that are transmitted through the senses. Therefore, he also wants to form concepts only about these sensual experiences.

Whoever wants to recognize the individual soul life of a person and the general spiritual life that comes into being in this, must approach both with the same impartiality with which a natural scientist approaches the facts that his senses, instruments and calculations show him. The naturalist will – quite rightly – not allow anyone to pass judgment on the laws of animal development who has not familiarized themselves with the methods and research methods of the study of living things. We can only agree wholeheartedly with our greatest naturalist, Ernst Haeckel, when he says to his critics: “Acquire through five years of diligent study of natural science and especially anthropology (especially the anatomy and physiology of the brain!) those indispensable empirical prior knowledge of the fundamental facts that you still lack completely.” — One should say to the opponents of the “unbridled mystical imagination” in the same vein: Surrender to the facts of the soul life without prejudice, do not drown out the language of these facts with prejudices that you have formed and with the belief that you can only find reality where your senses convince you of such. It is only natural that someone who, from the outset, only recognizes the reality of the facts of the senses, should speak of the mystics' explanations as Ribot does. He does not see the facts on which the mystics base their ideas, and they appear to him as a traveler's descriptions of a country must appear to the listener: the traveler says he has seen it, but the listener assumes that the traveler is telling a tall tale. Our natural science, directed purely to the facts of the sense world, has simply disaccustomed thinkers from the observation of facts that are not sense-perceptible. These thinkers should say to themselves: How little appropriate it would be to our entire scientific creed if we were to discuss the facts of physiology without having dealt with them! And then they would have to conclude: Are we not doing exactly the same in the realm of non-sensory experience! We talk about mysticism like a farmer talks about anatomy: that would be the answer they would have to give themselves, according to their scientific conscience. In our time, there is a mood of profound dissatisfaction in the minds that has been created by the described disaccustoming from non-sensory experiences. And at the same time, there is a deep longing for the experiences that can be had on the paths of the soul. More serious and profound personalities feel this. Recent literary phenomena are a clear and eloquent proof of this. In the next issue of our magazine, such phenomena will be discussed in detail at this point. In particular, writings such as Maurice Maeterlinck's 'Buried Temple', Bruno Wille's 'Revelations of the Juniper Tree', Eug. Heinr. Schmitt's 'Gnosis', Wolfgang Kirchbach's 'What Jesus Taught' will be considered here. From these in particular, the two characteristic features of the present time, as described above, emerge for the observer of the times to a special degree. A recently published book by Annie Besant, “Esoteric Christianity, or the Lesser Mysteries” (German by Mathilde Scholl, published by Griebens Verlag, Leipzig), is intended to shed light on all these endeavors. This book will also be discussed in detail in the next issue. — It should then be followed by a consideration of the results of hypnotic and similar research for the knowledge of spiritual life.

Among the literary works of the present day that seek to point the way to a deepening of our spiritual culture, Bruno Wille's book “Revelations of the Juniper Tree: A Novel of an All-Seeing Eye” (published by Eugen Diederichs in Leipzig in 1901, 2 volumes) is arguably one of the most significant. The book has something “representative” for our time: the word “representative” used in the way the great American Emerson speaks of “representative” personalities in world history, meaning those who, as it were, harbor typical feelings and thoughts in their person. Those, incidentally, that are distributed among many, but still constitute a certain coherent aspect of human endeavor, a necessary tone, as it were, in the great symphony of human activity. In this sense, Wilee's “Novel of an All-Seeing Eye” is representative of our time. It expresses, in compressed form, the feelings and thoughts of all those of deeper nature in the present day, who are filled with a striving for spiritualization in our culture, which is absorbed in purely external life. — And he expresses these feelings and thoughts in a genuinely artistic form. This is particularly appealing because the pursuit of knowledge and of a new kind of religious devotion is interwoven with a personal life story, so that in the “hero” of the novel we are presented with a human being in all aspects of his existence. From the immediate events of the emotional and passionate life, which plays out in everyday life, to the highest spheres of all-pervasive knowledge and free, dignified devotion and piety, we are presented with the full gamut of the personal life of a person thirsting for wholeness and harmony. And no less appealing is the introduction of nature into the novel. The beings of nature, especially the juniper tree, reveal the depths of their essence themselves, and reveal their soul, which the science of the present, directed at the merely factual and sensual, wants to deny them. Since Wille is a true poet, he is able to depict the dialogue and the whole interaction and empathy between man and nature in a way that is poetically effective in the most beautiful sense and that gives the novel greatness and artistic perfection.

One sentence from the book is enough to show how the basic feelings of deeper natures in the present are captured here. “What is truth? Must not the truth be united? But what do all these wise men do, each of whom boasts that he possesses the truth? The researcher shrugs contemptuously at the priest. The priest fights back like a snake and hisses: “Your knowledge is sacrilegious; it is cursed!” The scientist now leans towards the poem, smiling: “Nice – but unfortunately a lie!” The poet replies: “And your science? It may be correct, but I find it distasteful!” – So what is truth? Where does that unified vision flourish, which is at once science, devotion and beauty?” (Volume 1, page 6). Wille points to a unity in the human soul that finds truth in a sublime and beautiful guise, so that it - at the same time spiritualizes the poet's art, and is so lofty, so divine that it urges the heart to pious devotion, to a religious mood. How, on the other hand, modern science relates to poetry is vividly expressed in the world view that a professor of anatomy develops. The natural scientist, who is at the “height of scientific knowledge,” says to his students: “So, gentlemen, as a result of our science, we get a view of the world whose basic features would be bleak if they did not have the one consolation of being true. We may regard the sentence: “The world is a theater!” as a gain and a mentor worth heeding. ... We who know stand behind the scenes; through peep holes we look at the audience and wonder whether to laugh or cry. ... Yes, the world is a theater, and here, gentlemen, in this corpse... yes, here we see a prima donna of the conjuring trick of life. ... This body, which seems to be all beauty and poetry, presents itself to the unmasking science as a mere bandage of bones and ligaments, muscles, nerves, blood and skin. And like this woman, so the whole world. Let us go behind the scenes of the great game of deception, hand in hand with science. We see the sun shining brightly and benignantly. But behind the scenes, the loving mother is a soulless fireball. The happiness of childhood, innocence, hope tremble in the spring buds; presentiments and wondrous dreams shiver through the forest. So say the poets; they imagine they are eavesdropping on nature and, in doing so, have grasped some great truth. Theater-making is all that! Subjective mood transferred to soulless objects. One deceives oneself, there is present what only exists here in the mind... Gentlemen! From this corpse, I have removed the skull and show you a gray mass, rich in convolutions and tangled fibers, which consists mostly of protein. That spiritual world is nothing but a process in this substance. Mind and emotion are functions of the brain. Without nerve mass, there is no feeling, no imagining and thinking, no feeling and willing. ... Gentlemen! This world view may seem dull to some of you. Indeed, it destroys the naive belief in beauty, in the reality of beauty. But before all poetry, it has the advantage of being scientific. Science is ruthless, it must be, it has the duty to destroy even the most charming illusions in order to erect the sober structure of truth on the ruins of fantasy.” ... In the novel, this speech is followed by: ‘The professor bowed, the students trampled and applauded...’ (Volume 1, pages 43 ff.).— And so do many of our contemporaries. They applaud “sober science,” the destroyer of illusions, and build an opinion of the world on this soberness, which is their only truth, their only religion. And the more profound natures, who cannot believe that the Supreme is so soulless, so sober, so arid of intellect in the face of the “illusions” that appear on its surface, who ascribe beauty, sublimity, and : these deeper natures feel doubt sinking into their souls and say to themselves what the hero of our novel says to the “scientist,” his friend: “Oh, of course, it is good manners to tolerate poetry. But who believes in it? Who believes the poet when he says that the sun smiles – that it really smiles, not just as it were? But your science objects that the sun has no smile muscles. And in front of Böcklin's mermaids, it argues that a human body with a fish's tail is anatomically absurd. ... This kind of science is a tyrant! It looks bleak and dull under her sceptre. I want to turn my back on her – my heart is with the Cinderella of poetry – I long for my childlike faith, the lost paradise.” And what ‘Friend Oswald’ would probably do today is the same as any ‘true’ scientist when confronted with such deeper natures. “Oswald shrugged his shoulders impatiently and walked around, repeatedly clearing his throat. With him, this was a sign of nervousness."

Out of such doubts, the following idea can arise in the one who is pondering: is the poetic sense really obscuring your perception of reality? Could it not also be the case that, on the contrary, your intellect is obliterating the higher reality that lies in things, making you a bungler at perceiving them; and that the poetic sense is the only one that opens up these higher realities to you? Could not realities quite different from those admitted by your intellect lie behind the realities that your intellect admits, realities that do not condemn this world to “scientific” desolation, but that. wring pious devotion from your soul and give it a true religion? These are the representations that take place below the threshold of our all-seeing creator's consciousness and that finally lead him to no longer seek the secret of the world exclusively in the dry words of the anatomist, but to let it be revealed to him by the rustling of the trees in the forest, by the beings of nature itself. For he comes to the conclusion that there could be just as much soul in the movements and rustling of the trees as there is in man, whose inner life, after all, also becomes clear to him not directly but in gestures and sounds. He says to himself: I hear the sounding words and see the movements of my fellow man, and say to myself: he sends me sounds as I myself give them; he makes gestures as I myself make them: so he will have an inner life as I experience it myself within me. And only in me can I perceive such an inner life. All other inner life is only revealed to me through external signs. If I now interpret the external signs on other people's inner life, why should I not be able to relate the creeping movements of the hop plant, the crackling sounds of the trees, to an inner life? — Inspired by such ideas, our all-seeing person learns to understand the language of the juniper tree; it reveals an inner life to him, just as human language reveals an inner life to him. And so, for him, the whole of nature becomes the outer expression of its inner soul. What is given to man as perception is in itself an experience, a soul, even if it is of a different kind from that of man. And just as plants and seemingly inanimate beings are ensouled, so are entire world bodies. Man's organism is composed of innumerable cells. And each of these cells has its soul. The harmony of all these cell-souls is built into the common soul, as which man experiences himself. But he is only one link in a comprehensive organism. Am I not, the All-Seer reflects, a soul-link in the earth organism, just as the soul-cell of my blood corpuscle is a link in my organism? And must not the earth organism, like mine, be an experience and a soul in itself? Thus Goethe's Earth Spirit becomes a reality before the meditating soul. The way in which poetry can give rise to convincing truth in this way, and how the perception of this high truth in the heart of the All-Seer becomes religious devotion to the world soul: that is the content of Will's novel, which seeks to unite in unity: art, science and religion. Science is raised from the realm of the intellect to that of the imagination, an imagination that seeks to be not an organ of illusion but of higher knowledge. And life, which in the light of rational science appears to be a purposeless game of deception, acquires meaning and order in the context of the soul of the universe. A tragic experience of the hero is clarified when he views its causes and consequences from the point of view of his thus formed belief. He himself feels meaningfully integrated into a meaningful world. And he devoutly submits to the all-pervasiveness of the world spirit, recognizing his will in this pervasion as a member. “Foolish human brothers and sisters! From your fearful narrowness, turn soon to the boundless expanse! Stop confusing a part with the whole, mistaking your petty, fickle, cowardly, mercantile ego for your deepest, cosmic self! If you feel only as fragments of nature... Redeemed are those who, having penetrated the narrow barriers of the ego, feel their community with the whole and enter into the great order with devotion! They have accomplished the highest human art, have shaped their lives into devout music – have become a blissful voice in the symphony of the world (Volume 2, page 391).

This “novel of the All-Seer” may be called a book of longing. On the last pages, there is the sentence: “Every ideal means burgeoning high-altitude life, the early spring of a world Pentecost, prophetic reaching into the better world, awakening, inspiring dawn that precedes the new sun, reflection of the Heavenly Kingdom that cannot fail to appear.” The “all-seeing” person clearly ascends to this ideal. He looks into the past of man. He has developed from lower conditions. “That the future extends into the present is the nature of all development – just as the past extends into the present. The individual human being passes through the stages of development that his species had to go through before it reached the threshold of humanity. In my mother's womb I was a worm — and a fish — a newt and a lizard — a platypus, a marsupial and a monkey. My germ history is a brief repetition of the tribal history. This fundamental law can be extended beyond the present so that it also applies to the forthcoming stages of human development. Just as man in one respect still is what he once was, so in another respect he already is what he will later be. If, therefore, a higher development is to come out of him, then the germ of the higher must already be found in humanity (Vol. II, p. 396f.). Here stands Wille before the gates of the temple in which the creed matures, the cultivation of which the theosophical spiritual currents of all times have made their task. And he remains standing at the entrance. For anyone who feels the full significance of his above sentences will see that the next step is necessary: he must put them into living action. If the “germ of the higher” lies in man, then this germ must be developed. One cannot be satisfied with the mere fact that man's soul is his inner experience, but one should go further and see what can be experienced inwardly. Then one enters completely new realms of a higher reality. Our “all-seeing” friend repeatedly points out that the external facts that unfold before our senses point to inner experiences, and he repeatedly emphasizes that this inner life is the soul. Soul, soul, and again soul: we hear him say this in countless repetitions on his fascinating paths of knowledge and life. But is it not as if someone were to lead us through the entire animal kingdom, repeating over and over again, 'animal, animal, animal,' instead of explaining the special forms: worm, fish, newt, duck-billed platypus, and monkey? No, the soul is just as structured, rich, and diverse, and has just as many powers and laws as the physical. And into these realms of the soul lead the higher cognitions, which are called the theosophical views. Before the entrance gate to them, the will stops. Therefore, there are beautiful vantage points: the eyes, to see from these points, are given by theosophy. This can be seen everywhere in the book. This will be shown for the interesting sections: the “deed body” and “the all-phonograph” in the next issue, where, in reference to Leadbeater's “astral plane,” reference will be made to the realms to which Wille points without opening the eye for them.

The idea of the “deed body” (Volume 2, pages 131ff.) is particularly characteristic of Bruno Wille's “Revelations of the Juniper Tree”. It shows how strongly the longing lives in the best of our minds to deepen present-day scientific thought in a way that corresponds to a more fundamental human urge for knowledge; but on the other hand, it also shows how powerless this longing proves to be when one recoils at the gates of what the theosophical current asserts itself to be today. It is the question of what is lasting, what is immortal in the human being, which the will approaches with its “deed body”. First of all, it should be made clear what this idea of the “deed body” means if it is isolated from the magnificent poetic description of Brunno W ille. The human being, like every other being, is the center of effects that can be regarded as his “deeds”. What I do makes an impression on my environment; it continues my existence beyond the limits of my form, as it were. What I add to the world in this way cannot be lost. For every effect becomes the cause of a new effect. And all these effects bear the stamp, the seal of my personality. They are only there because I am there. And they will be there in all eternity because I once was there. And just as the power of the All-Soul lives in my physical form and shapes me, so it forms the sum of my imperishable “deeds” and my “deed body” through me. Schön executes this will in the most diverse ways. He lets his hero say to the disbelieving friend: “When you speak, you like to move your hand and arm. In fact, on closer inspection, every one of your movements is characteristic. But every movement shakes the air. So your individuality is expressed in all possible air tracks.” And when the friend objects later: ‘Without a body should I live on? To believe that, I think too materialistically. Without a body, no spirit!’ the ‘All-seeing One’ replies: ”Agreed! But there is no lack of a body for your survival! The world offers you material for an immeasurably richer embodiment. Not in the sense that the old soul slips out of the old body into a new one. That is dualistic thinking. For me, body and soul are one – only viewed from different sides, one time from the outside, with the senses – the other time from the inside, directly. So body and soul can never separate. ... “Around the old body ‘the new one has developed out of it—just as a moth develops out of a caterpillar...’—”Your individuality may renounce a certain sphere of activity, this sensual manifestation, but that doesn't mean that it ceases to be effective altogether. No, it continues to work busily—and so it lives! Or do you want to call someone destroyed who continues to exercise his individuality in the same vigorous way, only in a slightly different field?” What Wille says here is, of course, all correct. But it is equally correct for the stone, the plant, the animal and the human being. The deeds of a worm do not differ essentially from those of a human being in the relationships that Wille cites. In the sum of the worm's actions, “individuality” is in the same sense as in the sum of human actions, if one goes no further than will. And this stems from the fact that he attributes soul and soul and soul again to everything, without distinguishing in the realm of the soul as one distinguishes things and beings in the realm of the senses. The question of the eternal in man is not exhausted if I merely show the eternity of his actions. For what matters in the case of man is not merely that he should exercise these actions, but that he should know them to be connected with his self, with his soul being. So the question must be: Do I know the eternal effects of my individuality as mine? Are the members of my “body of deeds” held together by my ego in some way? As long as I live physically, I recognize my physical head as mine. When its parts have decomposed in the earth, I can no longer do that. But will I do that with my “deed body”? There is no answer to this question if one is content with Willes's path. To get an answer, one must not only ask about the eternity of the effects, but also about the eternity of the cause. A comparison should clarify what is to be said here. I went to bed yesterday and got up today. I do not claim that I have survived the night because I believe that my actions of yesterday still express their effects today, but because I know that the cause of these effects will attach my actions today to those of yesterday. I cannot let my actions of yesterday speak for my continued existence, but I must find them again myself and connect them with my actions today. These effects of yesterday must be my destiny today if they are to have any significance for my permanent personal being. — In this sense, the eternal in man is only grasped when one acknowledges what the “All-Seer” clearly rejects with the words: “I do not assume re-embodiment, but always-embodiment.” This eternal embodiment of the “body of action” contradicts clear observation when one focuses one's eye on the specific human being, not on an indefinite soul. With regard to the human soul, one can only speak of duration if it can remember the cause of its actions. And it knows itself to be gone if it remains as if from yesterday to today. Only those who have allowed themselves to call death a brother of sleep have grasped this in the right way. The will shrinks from re-embodiment. It says to itself: “Body and soul are one to me... They can never separate” (page 163). But he himself said before: ”What is so peculiar about this hand - or my facial features - or even my shape? Is it the substances that compose them? These atoms will be discarded in a few years and replaced by new ones. Several times already, my body has been rebuilt with completely new building blocks. I now ask, can such a metabolism affect my characteristic essence? Can this essence be the mere product of substances combining? No! The material composition is only an external representation of the deeper essence” (page 151, volume 2). Certainly: body and soul are one; but only at a particular time. Just as little as this contradicts their unity, which is emphasized by the fact that the atoms of matter are discarded after a few years and replaced by new ones: just as little does it contradict it when the “deeper being,” which discards its atoms of matter at death, surrounds itself with new ones again after a time. It will then be one with them again. When one sees as clearly as Bruno Wille, then only a hindrance can be invented that makes one shrink from re-embodiment, and this hindrance lies merely in the unfamiliarity of the idea. — Well, this hindrance will gradually fade away. Without the idea of re-embodiment, Bruno Wille's expositions are an organism without a head. — The minds of our time have only one thing to get used to. They must learn to perceive that which they are compelled to assume. If one says that the material composition is only the outer representation of the deeper being, then one must not limit oneself to characterizing only this material composition and its similar continuation in the “body of action”, but one must progress to pursuing the deeper being itself. But for this the mode of thinking is not sufficient, which, despite all higher impulses, remains attached to material processes. For this, higher soul powers must be awakened, which slumber in man under ordinary circumstances, and which must then be applied to supersensible facts just as surely and consistently as the natural scientist applies his to the sensory facts. We act in the spirit of natural science only when we confront the whole of reality with all the powers of knowledge within our reach, but not when we allow our knowledge to be limited by the prejudices of our current natural science. Only when we recognize the permanence of the cause in the human being, and know that this being finds itself in ever new embodiments, and that the deeds of the previous embodiments are the fate for the subsequent ones: then we think in the realm of the human soul life as we think today as confessors of the scientific world view already in relation to the facts of material transformations. The great laws of reincarnation (re-embodiment) and karma (the interweaving of fate through re-embodiments) are concepts in the spiritual realm that are completely in line with all our present-day scientific concepts. (An in-depth discussion of reincarnation and karma will soon be given in this journal).

Thus, it is necessary to awaken the soul abilities that lie dormant in ordinary life, which make it possible to perceive the “deeper being” that finds its “external representation” in the material composition. A recently published booklet by the English theosophist C.W. Leadbeater, translated into German by Günther Wagner, deals with this “deeper essence”: “The Astral Plane: Its Scenery, Inhabitants, and Phenomena” (Leipzig, Th.Griebens Verlag, L.Fernau). It deals with the states that the “deeper being” of man undergoes when it is not externally represented in “material composition”, and with the things and beings that we get to know when we have awakened our dormant powers of perception to such states. I can already see in my mind's eye the sneer of all those who, in the arrogance of their “sober way of thinking,” look down mockingly on those who speak of an “astral world” and yet want to strictly adhere to a “scientific way of thinking.” For them it is clear that such a thing leads into the deepest abysses of superstition and obscurantism, which in their “enlightened” opinion dare to “cheerfully come out into the sunlight” again in our time, even though “sober thinking” has “come so gloriously far”. Well, today such uncomfortable “obscurants” have to console themselves with Voltaire's beautiful words: “Every new truth is like the ambassadors of civilized states at the courts of barbarians; they only find the recognition they deserve after many obstacles and insults.” — However, we should not be under any illusion: works such as Leadbeater's “Astral Plane” are difficult to understand at all within the currently prevailing modes of thought. They are misunderstood not only by those who dismiss them with a sneer as belonging to the realm of the darkest superstition, but often also by those who profess belief in them. Anyone who has no personal experience where the realm of sensory facts ends easily forms a completely false idea of the kind of reality that prevails in the regions Leadbeater speaks of. Where our sense organs receive no impressions, behind the threshold where gross material life ends, things look quite different from the way they do in our sensory world. But if an observer of supersensible realms wants to make himself understood, he has to speak in images taken from the sensory world. This is easily misinterpreted. People believe that the supersensible world really looks as the images taken from the sensory world, which the speaker must use, express it literally. Everything we know about the regions we are talking about here looks like the silhouettes of a real process on a wall. Leadbeater expresses this (page 4) clearly enough: “... it is easy to understand that an inexperienced visitor to this new world has great difficulty understanding what he sees in reality, and an even greater difficulty in expressing what he has seen in the very inadequate language of the ordinary world.” — Even greater obstacles stand in the way of proper understanding here, of course, if one wants to judge such things without having any inclination to engage at all with what is actually meant. In this case, our “sober” thinkers are those who proudly call themselves “enlightened.” In order to be constantly present, the deeper human being must be somewhere in the time when it is not present in “material composition”. Well, in this time it wanders through two regions of the world that do not belong to the sensual ones in the usual way. These are the so-called astral and devachan regions. Leadbeater's writing speaks of the former. These regions are always and everywhere present. We also live in them when our deeper being is represented in 'material composition'. They are just not sensually perceptible. Nevertheless, important things happen there that extend their effects into our sensory world. The mere sensual observer of the world can then only perceive these effects and knows nothing of their causes. But the one who has awakened the powers of knowledge for the processes in these regions in his “material” presentation hears these causes, and he alone can therefore find an explanation for the corresponding effects in the sense world. Certain higher insights are therefore only possible when these powers of knowledge are awakened, that is, for the one who can see into these regions. In Leadbeater's booklet, for example, there is an account of the communication between those initiated into higher knowledge — the so-called adepts — and their disciples. The results of such communication naturally extend into the sensory world. Those who have never heard of astral processes know nothing of the sources of such results. This applies especially to those who speak of the uselessness of supersensible research. A person must seek and investigate the world as much as possible if he wants to work in it. Otherwise he will grope in the dark in a world of effects whose causes remain incomprehensible to him. Those who are not concerned with the supersensible also do not understand the sensible; they know only a part of the full reality. It should also be emphasized here that Leadbeater's writing is not meant to tempt anyone to “swear by the master's words.” The author strongly objects to accepting the information as infallible dogma. Unconditional authority must be claimed least of all in these matters, especially when it comes to the characteristics of the individual observations. For, it must be frankly admitted, in these supersensible regions everyone brings with him his prepossessions from the sense world, and these affect and color his observations in a way that makes our illusions in the sense world seem quite insignificant by comparison. This goes so far that, for example, in the astral region one sees things that are not there at all and does not see other things that are there. No one has the right to speak specifically about individual exhibitions, because it may be your own fault if you cannot find something that someone else has seen. But what is there and has been observed can be talked about, even if someone else has not found it. Leadbeater's account, as he himself admits, cannot claim to be complete. His view is by no means unbiased. In his writing, one finds a preference for the state after death, while the phenomena before and during the birth of a human being have not been given the attention they deserve. Even if the former are perhaps closer to the interest of people, for the research and enlightenment of the supersensible phenomena, the highly interesting astral processes before and during the incarnation of a human being are incomparably more important. Likewise, Leadbeater leaves untouched an area in the astral region that corresponds to what we call “history” in our sensory field. For the astral region also has its history. For example, this “history” provides one of the reasons why the Theosophical movement emerged in the world in the last third of the nineteenth century. Only in the astral can the deeper reasons for this be found. Some of the complexities are presented by Leadbeater too simply and too clearly. Important insights into the connections between living beings that we can gain are completely missing. And what is said about the treatment of the so-called humors, the “fiery and watery temperaments” by medieval researchers (page 65), is incorrect. Every observer of these things in the supersensible region knows that important sources for the knowledge of what we call “temperament” are opened here. I need hardly say that I warmly recommend the writing to all who want to enter this field, although I could still greatly increase the list of what is missing. It is the clearest and, in some respects, best writing on this subject. (For my listeners in Berlin, I might mention that I will be giving a series of lectures on the “astral world” this fall. The time and place will be announced later.) — For us Germans, I would just like to add that we should finally replace the term “astral world” with another, since it is generally admitted that it is as misleading as possible.

There are many reasons why the theosophical attitude is currently finding it difficult to gain access to people's hearts. On the one hand, it is confronted by the prejudices of the calculating mind, which, once accustomed to accepting only the tangible, meets the doubting feelings of those who say: the cultivation of the higher spiritual life may be something wonderful, something noble, but we have more important things to do today. Such objections often arise from genuine philanthropy, true compassion for the hardships and sufferings of humanity. Attention is drawn to how many people live in the bitterest misery, how many are tormented by hunger, dulled by living conditions that are truly inhuman. Look at yourselves, the theosophists are called out, the thousands in the big cities in their dark holes that do not deserve to be called human dwellings. Many people are crammed into a space that condemns them to physical and moral depravity. Look at the workers who sacrifice their strength from early morning until late at night for the meagerest of wages and who are condemned to a life unworthy of a human being! Is it not necessary above all to help humanity in this direction? Those who speak in this way see the theosophical endeavors as the work of idle minds who know nothing of what is most urgently needed. And one can only say that such objections to Theosophy have much appearance of right for themselves. One would have to close one's eyes to the things that are happening all around us if one did not want to admit this. It is undoubtedly true that the bitterest need of countless people makes it impossible for them to even think for a moment about the higher goals of life. It can easily even appear as an outrage, as a sin against humanity, when the theosophist speaks to a few who have the good fortune of a more or less carefree existence of the “destiny of man”, of the “higher life of the soul”, while the great mass is wasting away in material misery. Theosophy is only for a few enthusiasts who have no sense of the true, the immediate tasks of life: this can be heard not only from malicious opponents, but also from noble humanitarians, from people whose clever minds and noble hearts above all force them to devote their energies to improving the material circumstances of their fellow human beings. For them, the “social question” is the most important one in the present. And they demand of the theosophists that the teachings of “universal love of humanity” and “fraternity” be practiced above all where practical life, where hunger and misery, where physical and moral decay loudly call for relief.

The theosophical side should not simply reply to such noble humanitarians by saying that Theosophy wants nothing to do with the struggles of the parties and the interests of the day. It is true that it cannot be the task of the theosophist to intervene directly in the disputes of political parties. He must seek to serve and help humanity in other ways than those which parties and legislation can employ. But he must also bear in mind that, by pursuing some unworldly aim which is of no value to thousands upon thousands of people, he would be seriously failing to do what is really needed. The theosophist speaks of the necessity of not allowing the noble spiritual powers in the child's soul to wither away; he speaks of the fact that the germ of the Divine lies hidden in every human being, and that teachers and educators in home and school must make it their business to cultivate this germ of the Divine, that they should make the soul of the child a citizen in the Kingdom of the Eternal. And the socially minded philanthropist replies: you may talk for a long time; but just look at these children, for whom their parents have no breakfast, who come to school weak, hungry and cold, with their mental powers completely dulled. Is nothing more necessary for them than to think of the eternity of their soul?

The theosophist will have to listen to such and similar speeches again and again. And it is not surprising if those who believe that they are doing the right thing to alleviate material need and misery call him an idle dreamer. — Misery and want also kill every spiritual urge in man, they blunt him for all higher aspirations. And if one speaks to a starving crowd about spiritual life, one preaches to ears that are incapable of grasping the words.

These are the facts of which the Theosophist must be clear. The fundamental principle of the Theosophical Society is: “to form the nucleus of a brotherhood that extends to all mankind, without distinction of race, religion, class, nationality or sex”. This is in fact the only principle that is considered binding for the members of this society. All other aspirations should be only means to the great goal that is expressed in this essential requirement. — Many socially minded people of the present day will object: we do not need Theosophy for such a requirement. After all, many humanitarian organizations of our time also make this demand, and in a comprehensive way it is made by those parties that strive for an improvement in the social situation of the economically and spiritually oppressed classes. But, it is said, the socialist parties are grounded in practical life and in real interests that the masses must understand; but theosophy is content with more or less general phrases, with preaching and with an emphasis on things that cannot help the oppressed. And radical socialist newspaper writers and agitators are quick to say: the theosophical talk is only likely to cause confusion in the minds of those who are to be won over for a true improvement of their living conditions. They claim: “We must challenge the oppressed to fight against the oppressors; we must work to put power into the hands of those who are economically weak today, so that their labor does not always remain the prey of those classes by whom they are dominated. The power of the working classes must be conquered by all means of struggle. The workers must fight in their own well-understood interest; and you, Theosophists, want to preach “universal love of humanity” to them; you want to talk to them about “fraternity.” In doing so, you only want to distract them from what can really help them. Have the ruling classes of today ever based their power on “human love” and “fraternity”? It is a pipe dream if you believe that such ideals can ever rule the world. What the ruling classes have achieved, they have achieved out of the selfish interests of their classes; and in the same way, the oppressed today can only act out of their class interests. And then the conclusion is drawn, as a matter of course: “The laboring and starving population could wait a long time if they were to rely on you, Theosophists, with your talk of ‘love’ and ‘selflessness,’ to get anyone to strive for the solution of a social task if that solution is contrary to their class interest.” — It could seem as if Theosophy is a rather superfluous thing in the face of the serious social duties of our time. Demagogic speakers and writers, in particular, will emphasize that it is; and in view of the current situation, they will certainly have the applause of the crowd on their side.

But the ugly phenomena that we are currently witnessing within the socialist party efforts in Germany should prompt those who think more deeply to reflect. We are witnessing how those who have been talking about “class struggle” and “liberation of the people” in the sense described above for years are persecuting and fighting each other in blind passion. One question should arise in any case: Can a movement lead to a fruitful goal whose principles give rise to such attitudes in the leading personalities as we can observe today? Just think about what it means to entrust the leadership of humanity to minds that are not in the least able to be leaders of their own passions. Can such people really contribute to improving the general human condition? It should not be denied that the forms under which we live would change if such personalities achieved their goals. Only the intellectually immature could claim that the nature of human society would be different. The trusting will console themselves with the thought that the terrible things that are coming to light today in the leadership of the masses are only of a temporary nature; and that a great movement must necessarily produce such facts. Well, the reasons for many distressing facts in the present are to be found in the fact that the contemplation of social life that our contemporaries have and from which they would like to intervene in the circumstances in a better way, remains entirely in the external, material conditions of life. As a result, they can only approach their social work in the same way that a simple village locksmith who has never learned anything about electricity would have to behave if he wanted to make an electric motor. No one can understand the external actions of human beings without learning the spiritual laws that underlie them. The personalities who want to heal today's social effects should first of all learn about the causes of these effects. And these causes lie in the depths of human nature. What Theosophy reveals as the soul (astral) and as the spiritual world contains the laws for human life, just as the science of electricity contains the laws for the electric motor. It is understandable that people in socialist circles in particular do not want to know about these laws of the higher worlds because they have no idea of their existence. But as long as people are not willing to engage with these higher worlds, all social work will be powerless. Those who understand something of social conditions and theosophy know this. Annie Besant, the soul of the Theosophical movement in the Gegenwatt, was for years in the midst of social work, developing an exemplary and meaningful activity in it. And when she had made the views of Theosophy hers, it became clear to her that all such work is powerless without the enforcement of the spiritual powers, to which Theosophy provides the key. In her speech on “Theosophy and Social Issues” at the Theosophists' Congress in Chicago in 1892, she spoke the momentous words: “I, who have spent so many years of my life dealing with these — the social — issues in the material realm, who have devoted so much time and thought to the quest to find a cure for the social ills of humanity; I consider it my duty... to say that a single hour of spiritual energy devoted to the welfare of mankind bears a hundredfold fruit more than years of labor in the material world.” In the following, the task of Theosophy in the direction indicated here will be presented.

It will be shown that the words of the great Buddha, “Hate can never be overcome by hate, but only by love,” are not mere figures of speech.

An economics teacher, Professor Dr. Werner Sombart, describes the change that took place in the course of the nineteenth century in relation to thinking about social issues in the following sentences: “It is extremely appealing to observe how, since the middle of our (nineteenth) century... the character of the social movement has been transformed in its fundamental ideas, parallel to the theoretical approach to social issues. For it is obviously the same transformation: that in the theoretical interpretation and this in the practical application. Here, too, it is nothing other than an outflow of that fundamental transformation in the entire conception of the world and life, that gradual displacement of what we can call an idealistic or, better, ideological worldview, through realism... What I mean here by an idealistic view of people and life, which has now increasingly begun to retreat from the marketplace into the study, is the belief in the naturally good human being, who, as long as he is not misled by any error or malice of individual evildoers, lives in the most amicable peace with his fellow man, the belief in that “natural order”: in the past or the future, the unshakable confidence that it would only take enlightenment and encouragement to lead people out of this vale of tears and back to the laughing islands of the blessed, the belief in the power of eternal love, which would overcome evil through its own strength and help good to triumph... This basic sentiment was now reversed into the absolute opposite: faith in the naturally good human being gave way to the conviction that man is primarily dominated by selfish, by no means “noble” motives, that he carries the “beast within him”; in his innermost being, even in all civilization and despite all “progress”. And from this, the conclusion: that in order to achieve something in the world, one must above all awaken the 'interest', the normal, material instincts, but that also - and this was the most important conclusion for the fate of the social movement - because in the world, where something had to be achieved, interest , to shape a state of affairs in a certain sense, to 'emancipate' a class like the proletariat, that one must not oppose eternal love to the interest of the capitalist class, but that one must muster a power against the power, a real power, a power consolidated by the interest.” Without doubt, what is expressed in these sentences has increasingly become the attitude of those who want to play a leading role in the social movement. They have completely withdrawn their attention from the spiritual life of man and are of the opinion that one only needs to keep an eye on material interests and economic conditions if one wants to bring about a favorable situation for humanity. They completely overlook the fact that the causes that determine a person's fate include, above all, the drives and instincts of his or her spiritual life. It is certainly true that the domination of the machine, that the development of industry and world trade have created the situation of our proletariat. But they could only have brought about this situation by developing under the influence of those drives and instincts that have dominated humanity in recent centuries. What is important is to recognize the connection between human perceptions, feelings, and drives and between their destinies. Those who want to change economic conditions without recognizing how they are connected to the development of the human soul are like those who believe that a town hall plan can be transformed into a church plan simply by cutting the stones differently and using different materials. Whoever wants to provide for the people what belongs to the people must, above all, direct his attention to the spiritual connections on which all material life depends. He must turn his eye up to the forces of the soul from which the fate of the nation is woven. — And it is unfortunate that at the very time when the social question has become an urgent one, a materialistic way of thinking has taken hold of the masses, and especially of their leaders. Only in the light of an idealistic, spiritual way of thinking can social questions flourish. Under the influence of materialistic thinking, the character traits of the leading personalities of our time have developed in such a way that no one wants to understand the higher laws of human nature anymore, that no one really wants to learn anything that goes beyond mere sensual reality. But no one can exert a truly favorable influence on the destiny of humanity without knowing the true laws of that destiny. And Theosophy is the way to learn these laws. It is the way to penetrate the souls of those with the right attitude who want to guide material development. Just as a blacksmith's tools are of no use to him if he does not know the laws of how to use them, so all economic measures are of no use to the “world-blesser” if he does not gain access to human souls from his soul. The world is guided by the spirit, and anyone who wants to contribute to its guidance must grasp the essence of the spiritual. Theosophy must therefore become the soul of social affairs. And only when material interests arise on the basis that it creates, can the salvation of mankind follow from it. Therefore, nothing could be more false than the assertion that Theosophy is a foreign spiritual movement from which one can expect nothing for the happiness of nations and the liberation of mankind. No, the theosophist only lives with the realization that you do not build human society by merely laying bricks and stones on top of each other, but above all by fully devoting yourself to learning about the plan of this building. And at the present time, those who claim to have a say and a part in social matters do not want to know anything about this. They suspect nothing of it, and in their materialistic blindness they do not want to suspect anything of the fact that they must investigate the true nature of man. They expect nothing from the “love” in the soul, because they close their eyes to the laws of this “love”. It is sometimes the fate of truth to sound paradoxical in the circumstances of the time. This should not prevent the truth-lover from expressing it. One such truth, however, is that the leaders of social issues cannot work for the benefit of humanity until they have absorbed the knowledge and attitudes of Theosophy. There may be Theosophists who want to remain unworldly and keep repeating that it is the karma of the present-day nations to be tested by their purely materialistic attitude. To them it may be said: it is certainly also the fate of the sick person to be sick; but he who is supposed to heal and does not heal fails in his duty because he regards his sickness as a test.

On December 18, 1903, the anniversary of the death of Johann Gottfried Herder was celebrated throughout the educated world. In connection with this commemoration, the editor of this journal, Dr. Rudolf Steiner, gave a lecture on “Herder and Theosophy” in Weimar on January 15, which was intended to show how a deepening into Herder's creations could be a school for the theosophical worldview, if this spirit is no longer viewed from a merely one-sided literary-historical point of view, but rather from the high perspectives that can be found in it. A report of the lecture (from the Weimar newspaper “Deutschland”) will follow here:

If Theosophy – said the speaker – wants to lay claim to truth and value for people, then it cannot be a spiritual movement that has come to us in recent years as if from the clouds; rather, it must correspond to a comprehensive human need; and it must be possible to prove that the ideals of the spiritual heroes of all times more or less agree with it. Herder is one of those personalities in modern intellectual history whose whole attitude and way of thinking can be called theosophical. From his earliest youth, he did not live in the writings of the Christian faith like someone seeking teachings and dogmas, but like someone who actually wants to connect with the world spirit, who seeks not only intellectual knowledge but also the real development of the soul. But anyone who, like him, seeks not mere science but wisdom is theosophical. In the Age of Enlightenment, during which Herder spent his youth, there was little of such a disposition in the leading circles. It lived only in individuals. In the Magus of the North, in Hamann, whom he encountered in Königsberg, Herder found a companion of his outlook. For the apostle of the Enlightenment, only the personality of the human being and the judgment of reason that comes from the power of this personality applied. For Herder, on the other hand, this personality could only mean something insofar as the general world spirit reveals itself as a genius in it. So it is easy to understand how Herder came to hold the folk song in such high esteem. The man of the Enlightenment says: true poetry can only be produced through the higher education of the personality, for he has no belief in the genius that lies beyond the personality, because he has no conception of the living spirit. For Herder, man was an organ, an instrument of the real, supra-personal spirit; he sought the living folk spirit in the people. It was through this belief that he came to a true understanding of Shakespeare. And it was through this belief that Herder influenced Goethe, whom he met in Strasbourg. For Goethe's great scientific ideas did not arise without inspiration from Herder, and they too arose from a genuine theosophical way of thinking. The lecturer explained in detail how references to the theosophical basic views can be found throughout Herder's most important works. The idea that it is not human arbitrariness but the real, supra-personal spirit that guides the development of humanity is already clearly evident in the essay “A Philosophy of the History of Humanity”. In his work “The Oldest Document of the Human Race,” Herder already understands the Old Testament from the point of view that Theosophy also adopts. For his concept of the “primal revelation” by the spirit is entirely Theosophical. The same must also be said of his position in relation to the New Testament. Because he has recognized the spirit, access has also been opened to him to the most spiritual writings of Christianity, to the Gospel of John and the “Secret Revelation.” And one must return again and again to the greatest work of Herder, his “Ideas for a Philosophy of the History of Humanity,” if one wants to read something that clarifies the universal destiny of the human spirit in an idea-appropriate way. Anyone who understands what Herder says here about the eternal transformation of natural forms and the eternal preservation of spiritual forces stands, with a lofty conception of immortality, directly before the entrance doors of the theosophical world view. For in The Ideas, Herder has transformed a comprehensive scientific insight into genuine gold of wisdom in the truest sense of the word, leading the human soul to where its home is, where it first understands the profound words of Goethe: “The spirit world is not closed; your mind is closed, your heart is dead.” Herder's importance for his time, on which he had an influence that is still far from sufficiently appreciated, lies in his attitude, in his belief in the living spirit; and therein also lies the lasting value of his work for the future.

This journal has repeatedly pointed out that the theosophical worldview is entirely in line with the achievements of modern science, if these are viewed impartially and without materialistic prejudice. Indeed, it has been emphasized here that, with a correct interpretation of its own most recent discoveries, science itself must lead to a kind of elementary theosophy. There is now much reason to say a word about the relationship between scientific observation and theosophical view. The news has spread throughout the educated world that the naturalists Blondlot and Charpentier have found purely physical methods to make perceptible the light that a living person radiates. A type of light that is imperceptible to the ordinary sensory observation is present in the sun, in the well-known aurora light, and in other light sources, which can be made visible by, for example, coating a screen with certain substances, such as barium platinum cyanide or sulfur calcium, and then bringing it close to such light sources. These substances then begin to glow (phosphoresce). The same thing happens when the screen is brought near a living human being. And it glows particularly when it comes near those parts of the human organism that are the seats of special nervous activity and are in a state of increased activity. You can, as it were, see how the brain works by making the rays that it emits through its activity visible as a phosphorescent light phenomenon. — This is how the reports of serious scientific researchers speak. Blondlot, in reference to Röntgen's X-rays, named this type of ray he discovered N-rays, from the city of Nancy, where he observed them. What the theosophists describe as the part of man that cannot be perceived by the ordinary senses seems to be 'fixed on a screen' at least in its elementary stages, and also made credible to those who will not accept anything as true that cannot be grasped with their hands and seen with their eyes.

It would be premature to say anything about the position of Theosophy on these reports, which come from scientific observation. The appropriate time for that may not come in the distant future. It is no different with the investigations into some other discoveries of modern natural science (for example, the so-called radioactive rays).

But perhaps a theosophical point of view may be discussed here in a different way. However important the harmonious union of present-day scientific thought with the theosophical world view may be, it must always be emphasized that for the theosophist it is essential how he arrives at his truths. Let us assume that the experiments mentioned above have reached a certain high degree of perfection. It would have been possible to fix certain radiations of the human being in such a way that they become visible to the physical eye in the described way. What would have been achieved? Nothing more than that the sensory experience of the human being would have been somewhat enriched. In order to observe phosphorescence through N-rays, one does not need to stand at a higher level of perfection than the one who can also see a wooden table in front of him. The aim is to achieve such effects through these N-rays that they can be observed without the human ability to perceive having to develop. For the theosophist, however, it is less a matter of expanding the range of the perceptible than of showing higher forms of perception in people. This should be said here in particular with regard to the messages about the human aura in this and the previous issue. The main thing about these communications is that they present themselves to a person when he is working on himself, when he is developing. He gains access to them by increasing his abilities. If the physicist were himself able to visualize the aura, it would only mean that he had drawn something previously imperceptible into the physical realm. But he would still have remained a physicist and not have become a theosophical researcher. Man becomes this, or, better said, a “spiritual seer”, through working on himself. Then phenomena that were previously unknown to him also arise; but through this method he has become a different person. He has not only enriched his experience; he has developed.

It should only be mentioned in passing that the “seer” perceives his phenomena directly, while the physicist observes them in their effects, in their fixation. This makes a difference that can be compared to that between a real person and a photograph of him. The physicist gives, as it were, a photograph, a sensory image of what the “seer” perceives directly spiritually. — But the main thing is that the way in which the “seer” arrives at his results increases his abilities. And that this increase not only leads him to the perceptions hinted at, but at the same time gives him an insight into the spiritual context of things. — And that is what matters. The theosophical movement strives for knowledge insofar as it elevates man spiritually, insofar as it makes him a citizen of the spiritual world.

The physical phenomena mentioned are no different from, for example, the human being itself. If I observe the human being in terms of what can be observed physically, I am not engaging in theosophical contemplation; this only begins when I become aware that the physical human being is the embodiment of a spiritual entity. Likewise, the physical phenomenon described above is only elevated to the theosophical field by looking at it in a spiritual way. This leads to showing the eminently ethical side of Theosophy in the higher sense. The Theosophist always has the higher side of human ethics in mind. It points man to his destiny in the context of the world, to his highest goal. All knowledge tends to lead man along the path of his development towards this goal. How should we work on ourselves to achieve the destiny that is set for us in the world plan? That is the basic theosophical question. It must be interpreted in a noble sense, but it is nevertheless correct: all knowledge, all insights are means to human perfection, to human ennoblement. Theosophy culminates in a higher ethic, a noble moral teaching. Its main question is not: How can I acquire much knowledge? but rather: how do I become a perfect human being, how do I approach my destiny? The insights provide the path to this goal. The most important thing about Theosophy is the refinement of the soul, the purification of the lower nature. The great law of karma, for example, is not meant to satisfy a higher curiosity; it is supposed to show us how we have to understand life in order to become better people. We learn through the law of karma what we have to do. And so it is with everything that Theosophy wants to teach. Everything culminates in Theosophical ethics. It is absolutely true: What good would it do me if I gained the whole world through knowledge and did nothing to ennoble my soul? Theosophy should give us the ideals of how to live.

Those who see this in the right light will soon cease to think that Theosophy is a life-denying, unrealistic view. The Theosophist does not strive for the spiritual because he wants to flee from reality, because he sees something base and unessential in life. No, he recognizes that the roots of life lie in the spiritual, and that he who recognizes the spiritual roots, recognizes life. He who allows only the sense-perceptible side of life to count, shuts himself off from the real driving-forces of the same. In this sense-perceptible reality lie the effects of life; but the causes are to be found in the spiritual. And just as little as someone understands a machine by looking only at the iron parts, so little does one know life by looking only at its sensual exterior. Only the machine designer knows how to put the parts together; only the knower of the spiritual connections knows how to work in the genuine sense in life.

Our present-day culture clings to the external. Through Theosophy, it will come to know the goals and driving forces of life. It is quite understandable that Theosophy is currently met with the greatest misunderstandings. And no one understands this better than the Theosophist himself. He finds it so natural that he currently finds so little understanding. What is said against it has about the same significance as when the laborer says to the engineer: What do I need you for? I make the machine, don't I? The theosophist does not see his task as lying beyond life, but within it. He knows that the course of human evolution depends on the recognition of spiritual forces. He should spiritualize life, not rob the spirit of life. One is the more of a theosophist, the more one is in everyday life. One becomes a theosophist in the true sense only when one is a theosophist as a lawyer, as a physician, as an artist, as a teacher, as a builder, when one is a theosophist as a father of a family, as a civil servant, when one is a theosophist as a laborer in any field; yes, when one is a theosophist in all the circumstances of life, as a friend, as a benefactor, as a householder, and so on. Theosophy as a doctrine is only a beginning; it must permeate our entire life; it must flow into all our actions, from the most significant to the most insignificant. One learns Theosophy only in order to live Theosophy. Yes, life itself is the highest, truest school of Theosophy; and all theosophical theory can only be an instruction to learn the best Theosophy from life itself. Above all, a Theosophist must be recognized by the fruits of his labor. No doubt: apart from everything else, a single act of true human love is worth more than the knowledge of all the theosophical treasures of knowledge, if these remain barren. On the other hand, it is equally true that theosophy leads to genuine and supreme service to humanity. Those who truly immerse themselves in the theosophical truths sow seeds in their hearts that reach maturity as nobility. Once this aspect of Theosophy is better understood in wider circles than is the case today, then the prejudices that are brought against it from so many sides will disappear. It will then be recognized that Theosophy does not make one unfit for life, but, on the contrary, that by deepening one's life, it makes one more capable of it in the higher sense than the external way of looking at things, which today is considered “practical”, can achieve.

At this point in the last essay, the importance of attitude from the point of view of Theosophy was pointed out. If we look at the present-day cultural life with an understanding of this point of view, it cannot be doubted that many things in it are opposed to the development of such an attitude. The rush and bustle to which modern industrialism has led people makes it difficult for them to reflect on themselves. For many of us, every moment of the day is a strict taskmaster that makes demands if a person is to get by in life. And these tasks are such that anyone who has fallen prey to them can devote little of their inner life to times of rest. In these times, they will be primarily concerned with their physical recovery. Many will lack all interest in purely spiritual considerations because everything that constantly surrounds them and that they deal with is far removed from such interest. And even social life will offer little opportunity for spiritual upliftment. People bring their purely material interests into this socializing. And even if their social conversations occasionally deal with higher things, the tone that emerges is such that it does not reach the depths of the human soul any more than the things of everyday life do. How rarely do we find the tone of seriousness and dignity in relation to the great questions of existence among our modern educated people. A certain indifference prevails. One speaks of the soul and the spirit as one speaks of a new machine in the field of technology. The sensational, which is the decisive factor in a modern newspaper, also prevails when speaking of the phenomena of the higher spiritual life.

It would not be fitting for the Theosophist to play the role of accuser in the face of such phenomena. His task is to understand, not to judge. And he who sees an eternal necessity in the course of things must also do so in regard to the phenomena of modern cultural life. But it must be pointed out that in view of the externalization which this culture imposes on man, he must work all the more intensively on his internalization. And it is precisely in this direction that the theosophist should promote culture. Without in the least detracting from the duties of modern life, he should at every opportunity encourage the cultivation of self-contemplation, of reflection on the deeper questions of existence. For there is no life that does not offer time for this. The attentive observer cannot fail to notice how much time is wasted even by the overworked. And it is this wasting of time that stands out as a significant feature of our socializing. There is so much that is said in this socializing that goes in at one ear and out at the other. Enormous mental energy is wasted in such purposeless conversation. For every thought in man is a power. The life of thought is the innermost core of the human being. As a person thinks, so he is. He who persistently devotes himself to noble thoughts impresses the character of the noble on his whole being. He who allows only superficial thoughts to pass through his soul also makes his life superficial. — If we heat a locomotive and then leave it standing, the heat flows out uselessly in all directions. It is important that we do not waste the heat, but convert it into propulsive power. As in nature, so it is in human life. When man thinks, he can convert his thought power into something meaningful or into something insubstantial. He who wastes his thoughts on superficial, vain things lives without purpose; he who converts them into something meaningful works on developing and ennobling his life.

When man recognizes this, he will let this knowledge permeate his being and make it the guiding principle of his life. He will soon be convinced that he does not have to withdraw from his duties for a moment in order to live according to such a guiding principle. It is not a matter of creating time to cultivate the higher life, but of giving the right content to the time one has. To the eye, to appearances, nothing need be noticeable in the life of one who has attained a theosophical attitude; the tone, the direction of his thinking and with it his whole nature will change. When one considers this, one recognizes how deeply 'theosophy can penetrate into everyday life without, as unfortunately so many believe, becoming a troublemaker of modern cultural life.

Today, many people who turn away from the so-called scientifically recognized points of view state as the reason that the materialistic views of this science cannot give them any nourishment for mind and heart. They demand an explanation of the nature of the soul; but science, they claim, completely denies the existence of the soul and regards it only as a phenomenon of bodily processes, just as it regards, for example, the advancing of the hands of a clock as the result of the clock mechanism. Now, the representatives of this “recognized” science object to such an assertion by saying that there can no longer be any talk of materialism in science today, that the age of Büchner and Vogt is long past. These “scientists” never tire of emphasizing that it would never occur to anyone who is currently at the cutting edge of research to subscribe to the old sentence: “The brain secretes thoughts like the liver secretes bile.” When Lehmann wrote his “History of Superstition” not long ago, he also addressed this fact. He said that many claim that spiritualism has only spread so rapidly because those striving deeper felt repelled by materialistic science. Now, however, Lehmann also believes that there can no longer be any talk of such materialism in science today. This accusation against science is therefore completely unjustified.

Now it is undoubtedly true that at present every scientifically minded person, unless he belongs to the veterans of Büchnerianism, regards the materialistic ideas of force and matter as obsolete, declares them to be hasty, etc. But is that what matters? Can those who demand an insight into the spiritual and the soul be satisfied with that? Certainly, the scientific facts that have been revealed to us in recent years make an interpretation of world phenomena in a materialistic sense quite impossible. Even the great stimuli of Darwinism are being completely transformed by new discoveries. And only very backward people, who still limit their knowledge to the botanical and zoological facts that were known fifteen years ago, can still escape a spiritual interpretation of life phenomena. Anyone who follows current germinal history, the findings regarding animal and plant life, the facts of cultural history and so on, as they have brought us in recent years, knows that this whole “scientific” approach must move quickly towards the spiritual-theosophical worldview if it does not want to lose itself completely. It will either have to admit its complete inability to contribute anything to the solution of the great questions of existence, that is, it will end up in complete ignorance, or it will automatically lead to gnosis and theosophy. The representatives of this latter world-view are only advanced posts, which already see which is the course of development of spiritual life. That they still find so little understanding stems solely from the fact that our contemporaries are hypnotized by the thought habits of the age that has just passed, and therefore cannot yet reconcile the old thoughts with the new facts.

The question is: even if the representatives of “recognized science” and their followers today assure us that they have “gone beyond” materialism, do they have anything to offer to those who are truly seeking the higher knowledge of spirit and soul? And this question must be answered in the most decided negative. You cannot satisfy a man by taking away from him; you must give something. Materialism, in spite of its limitations, gave its adherents something that the thinking man needs: a rounded world view. It was even an historical necessity in its time of appearance. For it was only natural that people hypnotized by the achievements of the purely material world should also seek the solution to the world's riddles in the laws of matter. But where should someone turn today who is seeking the same thing? To our philosophers and learned “soul researchers”? To Wundt, to Lipps, to Höffding? There he finds nothing but abstract ideas, rather empty concepts, formed under the influence of a self-overestimating and also overturning “science”. He finds nothing for mind and heart. These thinkers have developed their thinking habits on the purely material phenomena, and now look at the spiritual with these thinking habits. They lack what alone can give here: direct spiritual and mental experience. These spiritual movements are now called to give this in the present time. They do not want to refute “materialism” alone; they want to convey the knowledge of the spiritual from those trained in spiritual experience to their age.

For anyone who has followed the course of scientific development in recent decades, there can be no doubt that a mighty turnaround is taking place within it. Today, when a natural scientist speaks about the so-called riddles of existence, it sounds quite different than it did just a short time ago. It was around the middle of the nineteenth century when some of the boldest minds saw scientific materialism as the only possible creed for someone familiar with the more recent results of research. The rough saying that was made at the time has become famous: “Thoughts are to the brain as bile is to the liver.” Karl Vogt said it, who in his “Köhlerglauben und Wissenschaft” (The Belief of the Coal Burner and Science) and in other writings declared that everything had been overcome that did not allow the mental activity, the life of the soul, to emerge from the mechanism of the nervous system and the brain in the same way that a physicist explains that the hands of a clock move forward from the mechanism of the clock. It was the time when Ludwig Büchner's “Kraft und Stoff” (Power and Matter) had become a kind of gospel for large sections of the educated classes. It is fair to say that excellent, independent minds have come to such convictions due to the tremendous impact that the successes of natural science have had in recent times. Shortly before, the microscope had taught the composition of living things from their smallest parts, the cells. Geology, the study of the formation of the earth, had come to explain the development of our planet according to the same laws that are still at work today. Darwinism promised to explain the origin of man in a purely natural way and began its triumphal march through the educated world so auspiciously that for many, all “old beliefs” seemed to have been dispelled by it.

Recently, however, this has changed completely. There are still holdouts of these views who, like Ladenburg at the 1903 meeting of natural scientists, proclaim the materialistic gospel; but they are opposed by others who, through more mature reflection on scientific questions, have come to a completely different conclusion. A paper has just been published entitled “Natural Science and Worldview”. It was written by Max Verworn, a physiologist who was a student of Haeckel. In this writing, we read: “In fact, even if we had the most complete knowledge of the physiological events in the cells and fibers of the cerebral cortex, with which the psychic event is linked, even if we could look into the mechanics of the brain gear like into the gear of the wheels of a clockwork, we would still never find anything but moving atoms. No human being could see or otherwise perceive with the senses how sensations and ideas arise in this way. The results that the materialistic view has had in its attempt to reduce spiritual processes to atomic movements also vividly illustrate its limitations: as long as the materialistic view exists, it has not explained the simplest sensation in terms of atomic movements. That is how it was and how it will be in the future. How could it ever be conceivable that things that are not perceptible to the senses, such as psychic processes, could ever be explained by merely breaking down large bodies into their smallest parts! After all, the atom is still a body, and no movement of atoms is ever capable of bridging the gap between the physical world and the psyche. The materialistic view, however fruitful it has been as a scientific working hypothesis, however fruitful it will undoubtedly remain in this sense in the future – I need only refer to the successes of structural chemistry – is nevertheless unsuitable as a basis for a world view. Here it proves to be too narrow. Philosophical materialism has played out its historical role. This attempt at a scientific worldview has failed forever.” So speaks a naturalist at the beginning of the twentieth century about the worldview that was proclaimed around the middle of the nineteenth like a new gospel demanded by scientific progress.

In particular, it is the 1850s, 1860s and 1870s that may be described as the years of the materialist high tide. At that time, the explanation of mental and spiritual phenomena in purely mechanical terms had a truly fascinating influence. And the materialists were able to claim that they had won a victory over the adherents of the spiritual world view. Even those who had not started out from natural science studies joined their ranks. Büchner, Vogt, Moleschott and others had still relied on purely natural scientific presuppositions, but in 1872 David Friedrich Strauß, in his book 'Old and New Belief', tried to gain the supporting points for the new creed from his theological and philosophical knowledge. Decades before, he had already made a sensational impact on intellectual life with his Life of Jesus. He seemed to be equipped with the full theological and philosophical education of his time. He now boldly stated that the materialistic explanation of world phenomena, including man, must form the basis for a new gospel, for a new moral understanding and shaping of existence. The descent of man from purely animal ancestors seemed to want to become a new dogma, and in the eyes of the naturalistic philosophers, any adherence to a spiritual and soul origin of our race was regarded as a superstition from the childhood of mankind that had not been overcome and with which one no longer had to deal.

And to those who relied on modern natural science, the cultural historians came to the rescue. The customs and beliefs of wild tribes were studied. The remains of primitive cultures, dug out of the earth, like the bones of prehistoric animals and the imprints of extinct plant life: they were supposed to bear witness to the fact that man, when he first appeared on the globe, differed only in degree from the higher animals, but that in terms of spirit and soul he had developed from mere animality to his present height. A point had been reached when everything in this materialistic structure seemed to be in tune. And under a certain compulsion, which the ideas of the time exerted on them, people thought as a believing materialist writes. “The diligent study of science has led me to take everything calmly, to bear the inevitable patiently and, incidentally, to help ensure that humanity's misery is gradually reduced. I can do without the fantastic consolations that a believing mind seeks in wonderful formulas, all the more so because my imagination finds the most beautiful inspiration in literature and art. When I follow the course of a great drama or, at the hand of scholars, undertake a journey to other stars, a journey through pre-worldly landscapes, when I admire the sublimity of nature on mountain peaks or worship the art of man in tones and colors, do I not have enough of the uplifting? Do I still need something that contradicts my reason? The fear of death, which torments so many pious people, is completely alien to me. I know that when my body decays, I will live no more than I lived before I was born. The torments of purgatory and hell do not exist for me. I return to the boundless realm of nature, which lovingly embraces all children. My life was not in vain. I have used the strength I possessed well. I leave the earth in the firm belief that everything will become better and more beautiful!” (From Faith to Knowledge. An instructive developmental process, faithfully described by Kuno Freidank.) Today, many people think this way, who are still dominated by the obsessions that affected the representatives of the materialistic worldview during the period mentioned.

But those who tried to keep up with the latest scientific thinking have come to different conclusions. The first response from an outstanding natural scientist at the Natural Scientists' Assembly in Leipzig (1876) to natural scientific materialism has become famous. At the time, Du Bois-Reymond gave his “Ignorabimus Speech”. He tried to show that this natural scientific materialism is in fact capable of nothing more than determining the movements of the smallest particles of matter, and he demanded that it must be content with doing just that. But at the same time, he emphasized that not even the slightest thing has been achieved in explaining the processes of the mind and soul. One may have whatever opinion of these statements by Du Bois-Reymond, but one thing is clear: they represented a rejection of the materialistic explanation of the world. They showed how a natural scientist could go mad as a result of it.

The materialistic explanation of the world had thus entered the stage at which it modestly explained the life of the soul. It established its “not knowing” (agnosticism). Although it stated that it wanted to remain “scientific” and not resort to other sources of knowledge, it also did not want to ascend to a higher world view with its means. (In a comprehensive way, Raoul Francé, a naturalist, has shown in recent times the inadequacy of scientific results for a higher world view. This is an undertaking to which we would like to return another time.

And now the facts steadily increased that showed the impossibility of the undertaking to base an psychology on the study of material phenomena. Science was forced to study certain “abnormal” phenomena of the soul life, hypnotism, suggestion, somnambulism. It was shown that for the truly thinking person, a materialistic view is quite inadequate for these phenomena. The facts that were discovered were not new. Rather, they were phenomena that had been studied in ancient times and up to the beginning of the nineteenth century, but which had simply been set aside as inconvenient during the period of the materialist flood.

In addition, there was something else. It became more and more apparent on what a weak foundation the naturalists themselves had built their explanations of the origin of the 'animal forms and consequently also of man. For some time, the ideas of 'adaptation' and the 'struggle for existence' had a great attraction in explaining the origin of species! It was realized that one had been pursuing illusions with them. A school formed under Weismann's leadership that refused to accept that characteristics that a living being had acquired through adaptation to its environment could be inherited, and that a reorganization of living beings could thus occur. Therefore, everything was attributed to the “struggle for existence,” and there was talk of the “omnipotence of natural breeding.” In sharp contrast to this, based on indisputable facts, some declared that one had spoken of a “struggle for existence” in cases where it did not exist at all. They wanted to show that nothing could be explained by it. They spoke of a “powerlessness of natural breeding”. Furthermore, de Vries was able to show in recent years through experiments that there are sudden changes from one life form to another (mutation). This also shattered what Darwinians had regarded as a firm article of faith, namely that animal and plant forms only changed gradually. More and more, the ground simply disappeared underfoot, on which one had built for decades. In any case, thinking researchers had already believed that they would have to leave this ground sooner or later, such as the early deceased W.F. Rolph, who in his book “Biological Problems, also an Attempt to Develop a Rational Ethics” stated as early as 1884: “It is only through the introduction of this insatiability that the Darwinian principle of perfection in the struggle for life becomes acceptable. For only now do we have an explanation for the fact that the creature, wherever it can, acquires more than it needs to maintain its status quo: that it grows in excess where the opportunity presents itself. ... While for the Darwinist there is no struggle for existence wherever the creature's existence is not threatened, for me the struggle for existence is an ever-present one. It is primarily a struggle for life, a struggle for the increase of life, but not a struggle for existence."

It is only natural that in such a situation the discerning admit: the materialistic world of thought is not suitable for building a worldview. We cannot say anything about mental and spiritual phenomena on the basis of it. And there are already numerous natural scientists today who are trying to build a world structure on completely different ideas. We need only recall the work of the botanist Reincke: “The World as Deed”. It is certainly apparent that such naturalists have not been educated with impunity in purely materialistic ideas. What they put forward from their new idealistic point of view is poor, it may satisfy them for the time being, but not those who look deeper into the riddles of the world. Such natural scientists cannot bring themselves to approach methods that start from a genuine contemplation of the spirit and the soul. They have the greatest fear of “mysticism”, of “gnosis” or “theosophy”. This can be clearly seen, for example, from the writings of Verworn cited above. He says: “There is unrest in natural science. Things that seemed clear and transparent to everyone have become cloudy today. Long-proven symbols and ideas, which until recently everyone used and worked with without hesitation at every turn, have been shaken and are viewed with suspicion. Basic concepts, such as that of matter, appear shaken, and the firmest ground begins to sway under the steps of the natural scientist. Certain problems alone stand firm as rock, against which all attempts and efforts of natural science have so far failed. In the face of this realization, the disheartened throws himself resignedly into the arms of mysticism, which has always been the last resort where the tormented mind saw no way out. The level-headed person looks around for new symbols and tries to create new foundations on which he can continue to build.” It is clear that the nature-researching thinker of today, through his habits of imagination, is not in a position to conceive of ‘mysticism’ other than as something that includes the confusion and ambiguity of the intellect.

And what ideas about the life of the soul does such a thinker arrive at? We read at the end of the cited writing: “Prehistoric man had formed the idea of a separation of body and soul at the sight of death. The soul separated from the body and led an independent existence. It found no rest and came back as a ghost if it was not banished by sepulchral ceremonies. Fear and superstition frightened people. The remnants of these beliefs have survived to this day. The fear of death, that is, of what will come afterwards, is still widespread today. How different it all looks from the point of view of psychomonism! Since the psychic experiences of the individual only come about when certain lawful connections exist, they cease as soon as these connections are somehow disturbed, as they are incessantly disturbed during the day. With the physical changes at death, these connections cease altogether. Thus, no sensation and idea, no thought and no feeling of the individual can exist anymore. The individual soul is dead. Nevertheless, the sensations and thoughts and feelings live on. They live on beyond the perishable individual in other individuals, wherever the same complexes of conditions exist. They are passed on from individual to individual, from generation to generation, from nation to nation. They work and weave on the eternal loom of the soul. They work on the history of the human spirit. — Thus we all live on after death as links in the great, continuous chain of spiritual development.” But is this any different from the survival of the water wave in others that it has raised, while it itself passes away? Do you truly live on if you only continue to exist in your effects? Do you not have such a survival in common with all phenomena of physical nature? It is evident that the materialistic conception of the world must undermine its own foundations. It is not yet able to build new ones. Only a true understanding of mysticism, theosophy, gnosis will make this possible. At the natural scientists' conference at Lübeck several years ago, the chemist Ostwald spoke about “Overcoming Materialism” and founded a new natural philosophy journal for the purpose of achieving the goal he had suggested. Natural science is ripe to receive the fruits of a higher worldview. And all its resistance will be in vain; it will have to take account of the needs of the yearning human soul.