THE
HUMAN SPIRIT AND THE ANIMAL SPIRIT
Lecture
by Dr. Rudolf Steiner Berlin, 17th November 1910
Let me in a few words
recall some of the things dealt with in the last lecture.
Particularly important for us were the views we were able to form,
from immediate observation, concerning the difference between the
human life of soul and that of the animals. We realized that the
animal soul life may not be distinguished from that of man in such a
way as to justify the assertion that man is superior to the animal in
respect of certain spiritual attributes. To refute such a view we
need only point to how certain achievements, obviously attained only
by man struggling to a definite stage of intelligence, are brought
about objectively within the animal world in the building of their
dwellings and in the whole of their life. So that in what the animal
does, in what it produces, in what it creates, we have exactly the
same intelligent activity that is shown by man in the tools and
products he makes. It might really be said: Into what the animal does
there flows, and then congeals, the same intelligence that we find in
man. Therefore we may not speak of animal soul and human soul by
simply saying that the animal is to a definite extent behind man or
man to a definite extent in advance of the animal.
When speaking of the
soul — and we describe the soul life as the inner life, in
contradistinction to the spirit life seen pre-eminently in formation
and development — we referred to the fact that we discover how
intimately bound up is the soul life of the animal with its own
organization; and what the animal can experience in its soul appears
to us as predetermined by its whole structure and the whole
arrangement of its organs. Thus it must be said: the animal's
life of soul is determined by the fashion of its organization, and in
its soul life the animal lives, as it were, within itself. But the
essential feature of man's life of soul lies in the human soul
being emancipated to a high degree from the immediate organism, and
in the fact that — I beg you not to misunderstand me, I mean
relatively only — independently of the bodily organization he
experiences the spirit as such, in the way we have understood it; in
other words, that the human soul is able to surrender itself directly
to the spirit.
If we now rise to the
consideration of the spirit in man and in animal we shall have to
start from the concepts and ideas developed in our consideration of
the soul in man and animal; we shall have to concern ourselves rather
more deeply with a phenomenon arising out of what was said last time;
namely, that in the animal all spiritual achievements immediately
connected with its organs and experienced in its soul have been
implanted into, and bound up with, what is hereditary in its species.
We may also say that there lives itself out in the animal's
soul that which belongs to the species, and because this is
hereditary the animal comes into existence with the predisposition
towards all the activities conditioned by the spirit which can be
experienced through its soul nature. Thereby the animal enters
existence fully equipped, and bequeaths to its racial descendants its
inherited characteristics which we may call an outpouring of the
animal spirit. It is different with man who in his life of soul
emancipates himself from his bodily organism. But because in the
course of nature this is transmitted through lineal descent, he
enters existence helpless, to a certain extent, where the functions
that should serve him in life are concerned. On the other hand,
however, this helplessness is the one thing that enables man to
develop in soul and spirit. Thus we find it to be the most important
thing for man that, when he enters life through birth, everything
determined from without should remain indeterminate. With this we
have indicated how we have to consider the relation of the spirit to
the bodily nature in animal and man — the soul lying between
the spirit and bodily nature. In the way the animal appears to us as
member of a species, gradually attaining its instinctive aims in
life, we have a direct activity of the spirit in the organic bodily
nature. The organic body in which the animal experiences its life of
soul is, as it were, the spirit that has entered reality. An
immediate relation exists in the animal between spirit and body. And
if we look at the animal, study it — whether superficially as a
layman, or more thoroughly with all the facilities comparative
anatomy and physiology or any other science can offer — we see
everywhere in the animal form, in the conditions of animal life,
congealed spirit being lived out in this way in the individual animal
species. And the external form — the external life in the same
way — is for us the direct imprint of what we call the spirit
lying behind the animal, so that in the animal we have to look for
the closest relation between spirit and bodily nature.
This is quite different
when we come to man. And when we have to draw attention to the most
important differences between man and animal, it is essential not to
look for them too far afield. In considering things in the right way,
what is most important lies so near that there is no need for us to
enter into all manner of intimate details in the investigation.
Observing man, we find something standing between spirit and bodily
nature which we need not take into consideration in the animal. This
is important. In the animal form and organization the spirit works as
it were directly. In man it does not work directly; an intermediate
member thrusts itself in, which can be very easily observed in life.
As man confronts us when we observe him, this intermediate member
which brings about a looser connection between spirit and bodily
nature is expressed in what we call the self-conscious ego. I do not
want to refer now to the way in which this self-conscious ego takes
shape in the body; I wish only to say: In the way man appears to us,
in the way he confronts us as a phenomenon of soul, this
self-conscious ego stands between his spirit and his bodily nature.
Certainly from the point of view of those who believe they are
standing on the firm ground of natural science, it is child's
play to find objections to the expression “self-conscious ego.”
But, at the moment, we are wanting to follow up the way in which this
self-conscious ego is inserted between the spirit and the bodily
nature.
Here we find above all
— we drew attention to this last time — that man is
dependent on the life of his environment, of the world outside, in
relation to his language, his way of thinking and also to the extent
he has developed a consciousness of self. It is a generally
recognized fact that man, if shut out from all contact with humanity,
if obliged to grow up alone, would never arrive at speaking, nor
definite thinking, nor consciousness of self; he would be forced to
remain in the state of helplessness in which he was born. Thus we see
that in the case of the animal all the activities necessary for
animal life, for animal existence, come to it through heredity. And
we see human activities arise in such a way that they may not be
looked for in the line of heredity any more than, let us say, the
original warmth necessary for hatching a hen's egg may be
sought within the egg; it has to come to it from without. So we find
that the things of which man has need for his development have to be
acquired through something within him; whereas in the case of the
animal it is imprinted into him by the spirit. Thus there remain open
to man certain possibilities of development into which he takes up
definite organizing forces through his self-conscious ego. For,
naturally, no one will doubt that changes in the organization are
bound up with man's gradual acquisition of speech, thinking,
consciousness of self, and the activities connected with these; so
that tendencies possessed by the animal from the beginning through
hereditary activities, are taken up by man from the environment, just
as warmth is taken up by the hen's egg that is being hatched;
in other words, it is introduced from outside. Thus possibilities of
development remain open to man as regards the inter-working of the
environment. Naturally Spiritual Science does not adopt the view that
man could achieve anything without organs. So we must be clear that
everything working into man changes his organization. If we
investigate the human organization closely, we see that this
organization is actually changed by forces coming from without, which
have to reach man by way of his ego. And then we see something else —
if we consider man as he takes his place in the world, to become what
he is able to become through speech, through his way of thinking and
his consciousness of self, we grasp him as it were at one pole, at
one end. We must, however, grasp him also at the other end. If we
would penetrate him with thought, this is not so easy a matter. But
it is in fact necessary to lay hold of man's other end.
Man actually enters the
world as a helpless being. It is perfectly easy to see what we are
dealing with here, but not so easy to make it the subject of
observation. In the course of his life the human being has to do
something that the animal is spared. This is done by the human being
when he learns to walk, or, rather, learns to stand. Connected with
this learning to stand, a great deal in human life lies concealed;
namely, the gaining control over what we may call our bodily
equilibrium. If we carefully study the design for the animal's
organization, the organization of its structure, we find that the
animal is so organized that a certain balance is imprinted into it
making it possible for it to carry on its life. It is so formed that
his body is endowed with a firm balance. It constitutes man's
helplessness, from one point of view, and, from another, his
advantage over the animal, that he has to make the effort to acquire
balance with the help of his ego. There is no question here of
comparing man with the animals nearest to him. Where the comparative
anatomy of all the individual organs is concerned, it would be
childish were Spiritual Science to assume a gulf between man and the
animals nearest him. But whereas in the design of the animal
organization there lies a predetermined balance, to human beings the
possibility is open to acquire this balance after birth; but still
more possibilities are open to them. The direction of its movement is
laid down for the animal through the predetermined organization
imprinted into him — if one may use the word imprinted; whereas
for man the possibility is open to develop, within limits, his own
sense of movement. Other things too are open to the human being, and
we shall come back to the various manifestations of this. It is open
to man to be able to imprint life itself into his organization. It is
certainly possible to speak of this imprinting of life into the
living being. Who with any mind for these questions would fail to
notice that the organization of a duck comes to expression in plastic
form, or that this is also the case where the elephant is concerned?
Who would fail to see how the skeleton, if one looks at it, as
distinct from the single animal species, discloses riddle upon
riddle; how life is as it were discharged into the form, is caught up
into the form, appearing to us as if frozen there? Here, too, man has
come in a certain way to pour life into his own form. We need
therefore only make the preliminary remark that in studying an animal
form with open mind, we are interested far more in the universal, the
general, what has to do with species, bestowing little thought on the
individual forms. What interests us in man's skeleton is the
noblest organ, the structure of his skull, above all, its plastic
art. And in every human being this structure is different, because it
is open to what lies at the basis of the human ego — to what is
individual; whereas in the animal it is what belongs to the species
that comes to expression. Thus when we lay hold of man by his other
end we find that during certain periods of life he has full scope for
imprinting into himself his sense of balance, the sense of his own
movement and his whole sense of life. The interesting point here is
that at the beginning of human life we are able to watch this working
of the spirit in man, this imprinting of the spirit into form and
movement; how in the struggle for upright gait, in the struggle to
acquire a sense of one's own movement, in the imprint of bodily
form, these forces are really active and coming to expression. Then
at a certain age, however, the possibility ceases for the further
working of the forces which in childhood had free play. At a certain
period of life, in regard to the activity we have been describing,
these forces close down. But when they are really within the
individual man, having finished their work in a particular sphere,
they cannot at once vanish; they come to meet us at a later time in
life, and at this later time we should be able to show that these
forces are there in human life as realities.
Now in fact we find
these forces clearly arising in man again in a quite characteristic
way for the progress of the spirit. What is accomplished by man in
the development of his sense of balance, we find again in his later
life, when he applies the same force to the development of his
gestures. Gesture is something actually leading us into the deeper
parts of the human organization, insofar as the spirit lives in man.
And by bringing what is within him to expression in gesture, man has
recourse to the same force he applied to the effort of gaining a
sense of balance, for the setting up of a certain balanced poise.
What man developed manifestly through learning to walk and stand,
appears in later life in a finer, deeper, more intimate form when,
instead of coming to physical expression, it is expressed more
through the soul, in gesture. Hence we feel ourselves really
intimately within man when we confront him and can let his gestures,
the whole manner in which what is within him is expressed in outer
movement, work upon us. In this respect every man is actually more or
less of a gifted artist when confronting his fellows. For if we would
penetrate to the finer psychological influences passing from man to
man, we should see what an infinite amount depends — without it
rising into consciousness — upon how gestures taken as a whole
play upon a man. This need not enter into the broad light of external
consciousness, yet it enters the soul and comes to expression when
external consciousness sums up a host of intimate details, played out
beneath the surface of consciousness, into everyday words such as “I
like him,” “I don't like him”, or “I
like her”, “I don't like her”.
We can also see how the
forces organizing individual movement work on in later life. This we
see when, passing from the gesture expressed in movement, we turn
more to where the inner being of man may be found poured into the
external form, but still in movement, in mimicry and in the
physiognomy. There in fact what begins as individual sense of
movement works on further, giving scope to the human being to go on
developing out of helplessness, and then keeping this helplessness in
check. When we notice how man, in his mien and in the play of his
physiognomy, keeps his external self in continuous movement through
his inner self, we find how what actually first appears in the
organization more as a mere expression of bodily activity, then
appears rather as poured into the soul-nature and intensified. What
worked more directly in the earlier days of the human being is caught
up more within him, in the self-conscious ego, to pour itself then
from within outwards into the bodily regions; whereas to begin with
self-conscious ego and spirit had, as it were, come to terms.
If we now see that what
justifiably interests us in man is the particular form of his skull,
we have to say: In this particular form of the skull of man something
indeed is also expressed of his innermost being. Everyone knows that,
broadly, this is the case, and that in the form of the brow, in the
form of the skull, of each human being, we shall always find
individual differences in men's inner nature. It goes without
saying that we are not speaking here of those spheres of the
spiritual life which are emancipated from the soul bound up with the
body. There exists, however, as a certain ground work what may be
described as an expression of the spirit that has become soul —
what is wrongly developed in the sciences called phrenology,
craniology, and things of that kind. It is above all essential for us
to be clear that the forms coming to expression in the human skull
are not general but individual to man, as he confronts us as a moral,
intellectual being. When we begin to generalize, we fail to
understand the whole connection. From this aspect, all phrenology
practiced in this way is mischievous materialism. It should never be
counted as science in its legitimate sense, for that it cannot be.
What confronts us in the formation of the human skull is individual,
different in each man. And the way in which we seek to form an
opinion of each man in accordance with these characteristics must
also be individual, just as our attitude is individual to each work
of art. As there are no universal, fixed rules, as we have to take up
our own attitude to each work of art, that is a work of art, if we
consider according to universal rules what in an artistic sense lies
hidden in man, we shall come to some kind of judgment but a judgment
quite different from the ordinary one. And the following will make
itself felt — that in observing the human skull we shall see
how the spirit works in direct relation to the form, how forces of
the spirit, of the ego, from within outwards push against the form of
the skull which encases what works from without inwards. Only when we
have a feeling for this working from without inwards and from within
outwards, can we enter into what meets us in the form of the human
skull that envelops the brain.
Thus, direct
observation show us how in reality the spirit lives itself out in the
animal forms. And since the animal's soul life is immediately
bound up with its organization, the instinctive life being an
expression of this organization, it will always be possible to see
why some particular instinct or impulse must appear in the animal as
part of its life of feeling. On the other hand, it may be said of man
that in him we also see the spirit working on his organization, but
from within; we see, too, however, that what lies at the basis of the
self-conscious ego is in opposition to the organization and forces
its way into it, at the same time forcing its way into the work of
the spirit.
Now let us consider man
in a rather different way. In him we see the capacity for speech —
which is quite obvious; then a definite way of thinking and a certain
consciousness of self as the result of education. These capacities
arise through man's contact with the external world. But it is
not enough simply to take things on trust; we must realize that
something far more profound lies at the basis of speech, of the way
of thinking and of the consciousness of self brought about through
the environment. What lies at their basis is the fact that man
possesses three senses not found in the animal. The word sense has to
be taken literally, but let us keep to fact and not to words. In the
realm of speech-sound, of concept and of what we call ego being, the
animal shows itself quite incapable of taking things in, in the way
of human beings. Of all the senses, the animal gets as far as that of
tone. For outer perception this is for the animal a kind of zenith.
Its sense faculty rises to tone. But beyond that no possibility is
offered by its general organization for an understanding of
speech-sound, concept or ego being as in other beings. The animal
recognizes its own species, the dog the dog, the elephant another
elephant, and so on. But no spiritual investigator would ascribe to
animals any perception of their own ego being. And materialistic
investigation will never succeed in producing any proof of a
perception of ego being in the animal organization; thus scientific
investigation should not, and spiritual investigation will not, be in
doubt about this. — So we see in man that the possibilities of
development remain open where perception of the inner nature of
sound, the inner nature of concept and idea, and the inner nature of
the ego being are concerned. Were the possibility of development in
these three activities closed to man, the other forces I named would
have no nourishment pouring from within, and would be unable to find
expression. Animals have no organs to make it possible for them to
develop in these three ways. For all that man shows in life as
superiority over the animal ears the imprint of what is within him as
capacity for expression — his conception of sound, his
conception of concepts, and his conception of the ego, of the ego
consciousness. Meanwhile we find in the animal the expression of how
the spirit is poured into form; we therefore see in the animal
gestures and physiognomy determined by the nature of the species.
This all expresses how the spirit can be active while becoming, as it
were, congealed directly in the form. In man we find each individual
has his characteristic gesture, his own particular physiognomy and
facial expression; in this there comes to very clear expression what,
on the other hand, he has in the way of capacity for developing
speech-sound, concept or idea, and consciousness of self. In reality
the capacity for this development pours itself into gesture,
physiognomy, facial expression, into the whole way his consciousness
of self is manifested. Here we see flowing from within outwards,
expressing itself in the human being, what can be experienced only
through the direct intercourse of the self-conscious ego with the
spirit.
If we experience things
in this way, we may say: If we do not approach man with abstract,
dry, prosaic concepts but perceive him in a living way, we see how
ego being, the being in idea and the being in speech-sound, work
directly on external form and movement. It is indeed as if, as
crystallographers, we were to study the forming forces of a crystal,
then discover that we have in front of us a cube in the rock salt, an
octahedron in the sulphur, and in the garnet a rhombododecahedron.
Just as there we see how inner forces pour their activities into
form, when perceiving man in a living way we see immediately living
in his external form all that he actually is, what in his being makes
a strong impression on us — what meets us as congealed ego
idea, congealed concept or conception, and as congealed sense of
sound. We should be able indeed to picture quite vividly this
congealed sense of sound that meets us. For that intercourse with the
spirit which man cherishes perhaps in the most intimate way, which
every man, artist or not, is able to cherish, which works into this
being as the finest weavings of his soul, this intercourse is
experienced by man in a characteristic way, the whole importance of
which for man's life should not be overlooked. We dare not
indeed overlook it in its content, in its inner nature — I am
not speaking here of word content — in the inner nature of the
“how” in the word content, in the inner nature of the
character of sound, or the soul in language. Language does not only
have the spirit expressed in the content of words; language also
possesses a soul. And much more than we think, a language works upon
us in the character of its sound. A language with many “ah”
sounds works upon us in one way; a language that in the character of
its words is more prone to “ee” or “o” in
quite another way. For in the timbre of the sound character there is
poured out as if in the unconscious, the soul that flows over the
whole of mankind. This builds us up, works upon us, and comes to
expression in life as a special kind of gesture. For man's
speech is a special kind of gesture — not as to the words but
insofar as it has soul — in the way man lives in speech with
his soul and expresses himself. In all that, indeed, we should be
able to mention significant differences.
Everyone knows that,
apart from what is said, there belongs to what flashes from man to
man in that queer indefinable way the inner quality of the way in
which it is said. If we take this into consideration we shall say: We
learn an infinite amount of what is deepest in human beings just from
the way in which they speak. In ordinary life we have often to
disregard this, for higher points of view may drive it into the
background. Yet there is something in us that is very alive to the
harshness or the pleasing tone of a voice. Those who really observe
the soul know that harshness of voice is far more unpleasant in a man
than in a woman, for the simple reason that this sphere is closely
connected with our organization, and that the pitch of the voice in a
man is more intimately related to, far more deeply bound up with, the
life of soul than is the case in a woman. It is true but it cannot be
proved. It can only be indicated, and if you are observant you will
soon see it is so. Anyone able to understand such things, if wanting
to give expression to something important, will therefore need to
convey in his speech what has just been referred to, and not merely
the word content. To give you an example of what I mean, really not
from lack of modesty, I should like to refer to the Rosicrucian
Mystery play I wrote — “The Portal of Initiation.”
In all the most important passages in it, it is clear that what
cannot be expressed in the content is brought out in the use of
language, in the vowel sounds. You will find that where you get the
sound “oo” after “ah,” “ee”
cannot follow “ah.” It is of outstanding importance that
we bear in mind that this realm is the “gesture” of
speech, recognizing how the might of the spirit is working into the
organization; and that we pay heed to this direct working of the
spirit on the soul that contains the self-conscious ego. And then we
look back on how the human soul pours itself into the bodily nature.
I am coming now, it is true, to a language that obviously for many of
you must be hypothetical; to talk of it may seem bold to some of you
and to others even offensive. That, however, is beside the point.
We see how in man the
ego being, what the sense of forming ideas can yield and undergo, and
what the sense of sound can experience, pour themselves into gesture,
physiognomy and facial expression, also, within the limits I have
indicated, into the form. So that in man, in that period of his life
between birth and death when the ego inserts itself between spirit
and bodily nature, we see the direct activity of the spirit. Now let
us just consider the following; and because the matter is more or
less subtle, I shall speak figuratively. Let us imagine that what man
accomplishes with his ego being, his power of conception and his
sense of sound, in the way this flows more or less into his balance,
individual movement and consciousness of self, and later into freedom
of gesture, facial expression and the physiognomy revealing what is
within him — let us imagine all this working together out of
necessity, so that no conscious ego intervenes between these two, or
three, aspects. Let us therefore imagine the ego to be eliminated,
allowing the two sides of human nature to work on each other, so that
through a sense of sound that does not enter consciousness but lives
itself out in the innermost being, there is realized from the outset,
in experience, the setting up of a balance that is not promoted by
the ego; you would then have something which remains free for man,
established without the intervention of the ego. This is what from
the very beginning determines balance in the animal. And imagine the
conception through which man grasps his laws and the animal species —
in other words the whole organization so far as it is individual
movement, physiognomy and facial expression, expressed in all animal
movement, expressed also in animal instincts, passions and so on —
and you have, bound up in the animal through the necessity of natural
laws, what man has in his life through the intervention of the ego.
We have, too, bound up from the outset with the animal, through the
necessity of natural law, what in man is directly expressed only in
life. In man the formative force of life works right into his form.
But imagine it was no longer kept in reserve for individual life but
from the beginning it acquired its form through Nature's
activity, and then you have it in accordance with species, and in the
way it confronts us plastically in the various animal species. —
Thus we see in man a being with a sense world lying between two
poles. He has his sense world, the world of perception, sound world,
world of taste and world of smell and so on, lying between, on the
one side, the way in which, conscious of himself, he finds a relation
to his sense of balance in the different spatial directions, in the
way he feels his existence in his own body; and on the other side,
his sense of sound, his comprehension of concept, and his ego
conception. As with inner necessity the inner life stands in relation
to the intervening sense, so for the animal the inner life is related
as something intervening, which, out of necessity, forms the whole
organization. Let the two sides in man come together without the
intervention of the ego and you have the direct working of the
spiritual into the bodily without the intervention of the soul. In
man we have what may be thus described — according to the
spiritual and physical side he is an unfolding in space, gestures and
so on, which on both sides stands open to the working of the spirit.
And with this we must reconcile ourselves to the fact that through it
in a certain way a foundation is laid for the whole understanding of
man and the human spiritual life altogether, insofar as it plays its
part in the history of the spirit. We see that we may not confound
what man experiences conceptually with what he experiences when he
realizes and develops the concept itself. In a certain relation man
is in a quite different situation where the realization of a concept
is concerned from his situation in respect of understanding it. The
development of a concept is quite a different story from the means of
understanding it. In this connection I should like to refer to an
actual fact.
In the year 1894
Laurenz Müllner, a great admirer of Galileo, on being appointed
Rector of the University of Vienna, gave his inaugural address, and
in it he drew attention to a remarkable fact which indeed is very
interesting. He pointed out that in Galileo we have a spirit able to
grasp the physical laws of mechanics, the laws of oscillation, of the
motion of projectiles, of the velocity of falling bodies, of
equilibrium, which perhaps — said Professor Müllner —
are expressed in the most grandiose way in Michelangelo's
wonderful work — the lofty dome of St. Peter's in Rome.
This is indeed true and must be admitted by anyone upon whom the work
of art in question has made an impression. Thus it might be said —
Laurenz Müllner went on: In Galileo's intellect these laws
first arise in the form of concepts, which we then see in Rome rising
to the heavens in the symmetry and equipoise of the gigantic cupola
of St. Peter's. In Galileo man has learned to grasp in concepts
what is presented in St. Peter's as the artistic creation of
Michelangelo. Added to this we have the actual fact that the day of
Galileo's birth and the day of Michelangelo's death fell
in the same year. In 1564 Michelangelo died on 18th
February and in the same year, almost on the same day — the
15th of February — Galileo was born, Galileo who
discovered for mankind the physical laws of mechanics.
That is really an
extraordinarily interesting fact. For it goes to prove that man
brings about in a direct way the intercourse with the spirit through
which he is able to imprint upon things the laws discovered
afterwards; he does not accomplish this with his understanding, nor
through concepts — not through the intelligence at all. But
this points us to something else; namely, that in his organization
man is in touch with the spirit before the intelligence has worked
upon his soul inwardly. Hence in a certain way it can be said: Man is
so constituted that he himself is able to incorporate into his
substance what lives in him as outpouring of the spirit, what has
worked upon him before he has been able to grasp it with his
intelligence. This is so in the creation of any work of art. This
fact is of interest because it enables us to see that man in physical
life in regard to all that he lives, and all that comes to clear
expression in an organ, before understanding the laws of that organ
has something within him which carries out these laws plastically,
gives them plastic form. So that if we follow up this thought it is
quite clear that the sense for these laws of the spirit, expressed,
for example, in a work of art, is there — must be there —
in the soul before the laws are given bodily form. Hence, at the
spiritual end of man, so to speak, we have also the reverse side —
if we use the word in its better sense, raising it to the proper
spiritual sphere. For then we are definitely shown that through an
ennobled and purified instinct man creates what he discovers only
later. As animals create instinctively, in the way bees, for example,
organize their wonderful bee community, so man creates directly out
of the spiritual world, before the spiritual world is reflected into
this intelligence.
Thus we see that even
in this direction everything points to the meeting of the
self-conscious ego with the working of the spirit. Through instinct
the animal arrives even in its feeling life at reflecting into its
intelligence what it puts into its buildings, and so on. Take, for
example, the beaver and what it builds. Among beavers Michelangelos
will always be found, but never a Galileo who understood the same
laws to which the beaver gives form in its constructions. In man
there is something confronting his self-conscious ego, something
created by the spirit when it enters the organization.
So in our study of
human development, we have seen that between spirit and bodily
organization the expression of the self-conscious ego intervenes,
that the purified organization of the human being has immediate
experience of the spirit, as it is seen in the imaginative creations
of the artist; and that a self-conscious being lives in him which can
oppose the ordering of the spirit in the body. Thus it is not a
question of giving man preference over the animal or not; that would
be the wrong way to approach the matter. We have, however, to realize
that in the animal the spirit comes into direct contact with the
bodily organization, and the soul passes its life in accordance with
this bodily organization; whereas in man the living ego which is
found in the soul pushes its way between spirit and bodily
organization, establishing itself as mediator — thus working
there between spirit and bodily organization. Through this the human
ego has direct intercourse with what lives in the spiritual world.
And it lives out this direct intercourse primarily by strenuous
efforts to establish spiritual conditions in its environment which
the animal is able to establish only instinctively. We see strongly
marked a certain life of rights, a moral life among animals. But we
understand the life of rights, the life of the State, and the whole
course of world history, only when we see in man the emancipation of
the spirit from the bodily nature by the intervention of the ego
between spirit and bodily nature, through which the ego enters into
immediate intercourse with the spiritual world.
The way in which this
ego enters into direct intercourse with the spiritual world
constitutes the normal condition of the human being. But as the
intervention of a self-conscious ego between spiritual and bodily
nature signifies progress beyond animal evolution, it is possible for
man to go farther on this path by again developing within him the
spirit which he set free from the bodily nature — developing it
in the free intercourse experienced. The possibilities for this will
be found in the lecture “The Nature of Sleep” [Not
translated], and its full significance appears in Knowledge
of the Higher Worlds. There we see how in normal human beings the
emancipation of the spirit from the bodily nature has arrived at a
certain stage, but can be carried further by developing slumbering
germinating forces in man, through the unfolding of which he can
advance to direct vision into the spiritual world.
We had first to lay a
foundation for what we are able to cultivate as actual contemplation
of the spiritual world, by seeking the real significance of the human
being in this intervention of the ego between spirit and bodily
nature. But this again is given us also in an external bodily way,
since the self-conscious ego as it confronts us in life does so in
the inner being of man, entirely in his physiognomy and in accordance
with his gestures. Some of you may remember that I have not only
mentioned but have also substantiated that the old saying “Blood
is a very special fluid” [A lecture called in
English: “The Occult significance of Blood”] is
founded on deep truth. This is really so, and in what is thus
expressed simply as a direct working of the soul on the blood
circulation, we can divine something of that working of the
self-conscious ego into the bodily nature, into the organization.
That is, so to say, the nearest gate for the ego, fertilized by the
spirit, to enter the bodily nature and work upon it. We see this on
observing how the soul works upon the blood circulation. In the
phenomena of blushing and turning pale I have often given you common
examples for the direct working of what goes on in the soul and
expresses itself physically; for fear and shame are actual processes
of the soul. Anyone wanting to deny this would have to be an
unconscious materialist, like, for example, William James: for
although he wishes to be spiritual he is actually a materialist in
wishing to defend the assertion: “Man does not weep because he
is sad, he is sad because he weeps.” According to this we
should have to imagine that man experiences sadness in his soul
because some kind of material influence has an effect on the organism
and squeezes out tears: and if man notices this — so says
William James — he becomes sad. If we do not recognize how
untenable this conclusion is, we shall not be able to understand that
in affairs like laughing and weeping, and also in blushing, where a
rush of blood takes place from the centre to the periphery, we have
to do with material processes directly under the influence of soul
and spirit.
If we think this over
we shall be able to admit that in man what belongs to the soul does
in very truth express itself in the circulation of the blood. What we
say here about man; namely, that in the blood, and in the
circulation, the self-conscious ego has its life, we cannot directly
apply to the animal, because in it a self-conscious ego cannot work
into the blood circulation, and — what is essential —
because the animal does not open itself directly to the influence of
the spiritual world which works into it; rather, from necessity.
Whereas in the animal's blood circulation we have before us
something in which the soul life of the animal finds immediate
expression, in the blood circulation of the human being something is
to be seen of the way in which the spirit works on the ego. If some
day people will begin to give a little thought to what is here in
question; namely, the importance for human life that man should not
be organized from the outset to receive a definite imprint, of
balance, of individual movement and of the sense of life, but must
himself struggle to attain them — when they can discover how
true it is that in spatial directions we have to do with realities,
whether a spine is in a horizontal or vertical relation to space, or
whether the blood circulates in this or that direction — then
they will see how essential is the way in which such organizations
are inserted into the whole cosmic connection. We should be obliged
to see in reality, for example, in the spatial direction of a certain
line, something of essential importance. When this is understood we
may judge how great is the significance of the position and all the
processes in the blood, in the human blood system. Today it is
believed that the theory of the blood circulation is complete in
itself. It is not so at all. We are only beginning to learn something
of the secrets of the blood circulation. And not dogmatically to make
bare assertions I will point to the following.
Not more than
twenty-five years ago, a scientific investigator in this sphere, the
criminologist Moritz Benedict, celebrated for his mathematical
qualifications in this direction, was first to draw attention to the
important fact — generally ignored today — that the
corresponding beats in the right artery and the left are different —
an important fact for knowledge of the connections in the human
being. And of special importance is something found in this sphere,
not by anyone famous but by a very simple man, a Dr. Karl Schmidt. It
was published by him in 1892 in the Vienna Medical Weekly in his
article “Heartbeat and Pulsation,” in which quite
important observations were indicated. Only when these things, still
in their infancy, are studied to some degree, will a beginning have
been made in knowledge of the connection between the self-conscious
ego and the blood circulation, on the one hand, and, on the other
hand, the connection between the animal spirit working in the animal
and the animal blood circulation. Last time, I pointed out that we,
indeed, are able to go into details in the sciences of the organs and
their individual functions, and are able to give evidence of the
different ways the spirit shows itself in man and in animal. In this
connection it is quite comprehensible that modern investigations into
the relation of man's blood to that of apes say little, because
they go only into externals — the purely physical substance,
the chemical reactions, and so forth — not into the real
question. Were it only a matter of physical substance it would
necessarily be quite immaterial whether a wheel was used as a child's
toy or for a watch. But it always depends on how a member or an organ
is used in the whole of a being or of a thing. It has nothing to do
with how man's blood is related to the blood of the ape, or the
like, but with how the organs in question are placed in the service
of the organization as a whole.
How the actual truth is
treated by external investigation is best shown in Goethe's
dealings with natural science. In Goethe's days, where the
things of Nature are concerned, a rigid materialism was already
prevailing, and even the most eminent scientists who wished to
maintain the difference between man and animal founded their claims
on something purely material. They were of the opinion that this
difference was to be seen in the fact that in the upper jawbone of
the animal there is an intermediate bone not found in man. They said:
What distinguishes man from the animal is that the animal possesses
an intermaxillary bone to accommodate the upper incisors, and this
bone is not found in man! For Goethe this was inadmissible. His
concern was not to find the difference between man and animal in
anatomical details, but in the way the spirit in man and the spirit
in the animal made use of the organs. (Incidentally I will just refer
you to Goethe's “Theory of Metamorphosis” in which
may be found information about all the individual human organs.) Thus
from the outset Goethe could never reconcile himself to the idea that
man's superiority to the animal was to be sought in a material
detail. Therefore his one wish was to prove that this assertion was
incorrect, that this chasm did not exist; and he set himself to work
to find this intermaxillary bone in man. If Goethe had never
accomplished anything but this one deed, if he had discovered nothing
further than the presence in man of the intermaxillary bone, though
no longer in a developed state and not apparent, through this alone
for human evolution he would still remain a mighty genius. Said
Goethe to himself — and I do not relate this because he did it
but because it came to light through his experience: With Herder, and
with others who are at pains to understand man spiritually, I have
directed attention primarily to how man rises above the animal
because the animal is bound up with its organization; but man is
emancipated from it and enters into immediate intercourse with the
spirit, thus being able to work back upon his organs. Goethe says
this, as I have indicated, but in the following words: “Animals
are taught by their organs, said the men of old. I add to this: man,
too, is taught by his organs; however, he has the advantage of in
turn teaching them.” Goethe could not but admit that the organs
are the same but formed from different sides. Hence his great joy
when at last he found the intermaxillary bone in man. At this point
he writes to Herder: “... I have found — neither
gold nor silver but something that gives me infinite joy — the
‘os intermaxillary’ in man! With Loder I compared man's
skull with that of the animal and got on its track — when, lo!
There it was. But I beg you to keep quiet about it, for this affair
must be handled with caution. This should, however, make you too
rejoice, for it is a kind of keystone to man; it is not lacking, it
is there — actually there. I have imagined it in connection
with your ‘whole’ — how splendidly it will fit in.
...” (Letter of 27th March, 1784.)
The difference between
man and animal cannot be found in any particular detail. It has to be
found entirely in the way the spirit makes use of things. For through
this we behold man's relation to the spirit, how he has
emancipated himself from what belongs to the body and is able to
enter into direct intercourse with the spirit. Hence the difference
in the sensation we experience on contemplating something spiritual
from what we experience on contemplating anything physical and
material. We seek to use words in quite different ways according to
whether we look upon the spiritual or the physical.
Among Goethe's
works two poems may be found together. Each contains three remarkable
lines:
“In
all things the eternal's moving past,
For everything must come to naught at last
If in being it still would stay.”
“Das
Ewige regt sich fort in Allen:
Denn Alles muss in Nichts zerfallen,
Wenn es im Sein beharren will.”
Thus ends one poem, and
the other begins:
“No
being can come to naught at last!
In all the Eternal's moving past.
In being know thyself, then, blessed.”
“Kein
Wesen kann zu Nichts zerfallen!
Das Ewige regt sich fort in Allen,
Am Sein erhalte dich beglückt!”
A complete
contradiction! How may we explain it? And Goethe has put it so
blatantly in two poems next to one another. In truth if we
contemplate the spirit in material existence, in our heart we may
call forth the feeling: If the spirit would continue in material
being, if it were not to break up all form, it would have to crumble
into nothingness. The moment we see the spirit in the bodily nature
we have to say: We have here to do with the eternal, immortal being,
with the spirit with which we can unite in man's emancipated
soul. Then we may say:
“No
being can come to naught at last,
In all the Eternal's moving past.
In being know thyself, then, blessed.”
if we bear in
mind the immortal, the eternal, in a being.
If we see the soul, if
we see the spirit in the bodily nature, we have to say: If it lived
itself out entirely in the body, if it would hold fast to the body,
then it would have to fall into nothingness.
Thus the study of the
animal's spirit and the human spirit leads us gradually upwards
to a premonition of what in reality may be called the spirit. But
before it is wished to find the way in which knowledge about the
spirit can be acquired, it is necessary to know the way in which the
spirit shines forth in the human soul which it frees from the body in
order within it to live a life independent of the bodily
organization, a life in its own sphere.
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