III
N
the last lecture we found that moral impulses are
fundamental in human nature. From the facts adduced, we tried
to prove that a foundation of morality and goodness lies
at the bottom of the human soul, and that really it has only
been in the course of evolution, in man's passage from
incarnation to incarnation, that he has diverged from the
original instinctive good foundation and that thereby what is
evil, wrong and immoral has come into
humanity. But if this is so, we must really wonder that evil is
possible, or that it ever originated, and the question as to
how evil became possible in the course of evolution requires an
answer. We can only obtain a satisfactory reply by examining
the elementary moral instruction given to man in ancient
times.
The pupils of the Mysteries whose highest ideal was gradually
to penetrate to full spiritual knowledge and truths were always
obliged to work from a moral
foundation. In those places where they worked in the right way
according to the Mysteries, the peculiarity of man's
moral-nature was shown in a special way to the pupils. Briefly,
we may say: The pupils of the Mysteries were shown that
freewill can only be developed if a person is in a position to
go wrong in one of two directions; further, that life can only
run its course truly and favourably when these two lines of
opposition are considered as being like the two sides of a
balance, of which first one side and then the other goes up and
down. True balance only exists when the crossbeam is
horizontal. They were shown that it is impossible to express
man's right procedure by saying: this is right and that is
wrong. It is only possible to gain the true idea when the human
being, standing in the centre of the balance, can be swayed
each moment of his life, now to one side, now to the other, but
he himself holds the correct mean between the two.
Let us take the virtues of which we have spoken: first —
valour, bravery. In this respect human nature may diverge on
one side to foolhardiness — that is, unbridled activity
in the world and the straining of the forces at one's disposal
to the utmost limit. Foolhardiness is one side; the opposite is
cowardice. A person may tip the
scale in either of these directions. In the Mysteries the
pupils were shown that when a man degenerates into
foolhardiness he loses himself and lays aside his own
individuality and is crushed by the wheels of life. Life tears
him in pieces if he errs in this direction, but if, on the
other hand, he errs on the side of cowardice, he hardens
himself and tears himself away from his connection with beings
and objects. He then becomes a being shut up within himself,
who, as he cannot bring his deeds into harmony with the
whole, loses his connection with things. This was shown to the
pupils in respect to all that a man may do. He may degenerate
in such a way that he is torn in pieces, and losing his own
individuality is crushed by the objective world; on the other
hand, he may degenerate not merely in courage, but also in
every other respect in such a way that he hardens within
himself. Thus at the head of the moral code in all the
Mysteries there were written the significant words: “Thou
must find the mean,” so that through thy deeds thou must
not lose thyself in the world, and that the world also does not
lose thee.
Those are the two possible extremes into which man may fall.
Either he may be lost to the world, the world lays hold on him,
and crushes him, as is the case in foolhardiness; or the world
may be lost to him, because he hardens himself in his egoism,
as is the case in cowardice. In the Mysteries, the pupils were
told that goodness cannot merely be striven for as goodness
obtained once for all; rather does goodness come only through
man being continually able to strike out in two
directions like a pendulum and by his own inner power able to
find the balance, the mean between the two.
You have in this all that will enable you to understand
the freedom of the will and the significance of reason and
wisdom in human action. If it were fitting for man
always to observe the
eternal moral principles he need only acquire these moral
principles and then he could go through life on a definite line
of march, as it were, but life is never like this.
Freedom in life consists rather in man's being always
able to err in one direction or another. But in this way the
possibility of evil arises. For what is evil? It is that which
originates when the human being is either lost to the world, or
the world is lost to him. Goodness consists in avoiding both
these extremes. In the course of evolution evil became not only
a possibility but an actuality; for as man journeyed from
incarnation to incarnation, by his turning now to one side and
now to the other, he could not always find the balance at once,
and it was necessary for the compensation to be karmically made
at a future time. What man cannot attain in one life, because
he does not always find the mean at once, he will attain
gradually in the course of evolution in as much as man diverts
his course to one side, and is then obliged, perhaps in the
next life, to strike out again in the opposite direction, and
thus bring about the balance. What I have just told you was a
golden rule in the ancient Mysteries. We often find among the
ancient philosophers echoes of the principles taught in these
Mysteries. Aristotle makes a statement, when, speaking of
virtue, which we cannot understand unless we know that
what has just been said was an old principle in the Mysteries
which had been received by Aristotle as tradition and embodied
in his philosophy. He says: Virtue is a human capacity or skill
guided by reason and insight, which, as regards man, holds the
balance between the too-much and the too-little. Aristotle here
gives a definition of virtue, the like of which no subsequent
philosophy has attained. But as Aristotle had the tradition from
the Mysteries, it was possible for him to give the precise truth.
That is, then, the mean, which must be found and followed if a
man is really to be virtuous, if moral power is to pulsate
through the world. We can now answer the question as to why
morals should exist at all. For what happens when there is no
morality, when evil is done, and when the
too-much or the too-little takes place, when man is lost to the
world by being crushed, or when the world loses him? In each of
these cases something is always destroyed. Every evil or
immoral act is a process of
destruction, and the moment man sees that when he has done
wrong he cannot do otherwise than destroy something, take
something from the world, in that moment a mighty influence for
good has awakened within him. It is especially the task of
Spiritual Science — which is really only just beginning its
work in the world — to show that all evil brings about a
destructive process, that it takes away from the world
something which is necessary. When in accordance with our
anthroposophical standpoint, we hold this principle, then
what we know about the nature of man leads us to a particular
interpretation of good and evil.
We
know that the sentient-soul was chiefly developed in the old
Chaldean or Egyptian epoch the third post-Atlantean age. The
people of the present day have but little notion what this
epoch of development was like prior
to that time, for in external history one can reach
little further back than to the Egyptian age. We know that the
intellectual, or mind-soul, developed in the fourth or
Graeco-Latin age, and that now in our age we are developing the
consciousness-or spiritual-soul. The spirit-self will only come
into prominence in the sixth age of post-Atlantean
development.
Let us now ask: How can the sentient-soul turn to one side or
the other, away from what is right? The sentient-soul is that
quality in man which enables him to perceive the objective
world, to take it into himself, to take part in it, not to pass
through the world ignorant of all the diversified objects it
contains, but to go through the world in such a way that he
forms a relationship with them. All this is brought about by
the sentient-soul. We find one side to which man can deviate
with the sentient-soul when we enquire: What makes it possible
for man to enter into relationship with the objective world? It
is what may be called interest in the different things, and by
this word “interest” something is expressed which
in a moral sense is extremely important. It is much more
important that one should bear in mind the moral significance
of interest, than that one should devote oneself to thousands
of beautiful moral axioms which may be only paltry and
hypocritical. Let it be clearly understood, that our moral
impulses are in fact never better guided than when we take a
proper interest in objects and beings. In our last lecture we
spoke in a deeper sense of love as an impulse and in such a way
that we cannot now be misunderstood if we say that the usual,
oft-repeated declamation, “love, love, and again
love” cannot replace the moral impulse contained in what
may be described by the word ‘interest.’
Let us suppose that we have a child before us. What is the
condition primary to our devotion to this child? What is the
first condition to our educating the child? It is that we take
an interest in it. There is something unhealthy or abnormal in
the human soul if a person withdraws himself from something in
which he takes an interest. It will more and more be recognised
that the impulse of interest is a quite specially golden
impulse in the moral sense the further we advance to the actual
foundations of morality and do not stop at the mere preaching
of morals. Our inner powers are also called forth as regards
mankind when we extend our interests, when we are able to
transpose ourselves with understanding into beings and
objects.
Even sympathy is awakened in the right manner if we take an
interest in a being; and if, as anthroposophists, we set
ourselves the task of extending our interests more and more and
of widening our mental horizon, this will promote the universal
brotherhood of mankind. Progress is not gained by the mere
preaching of universal love, but by the extension of our
interests further and further, so that we come to interest
ourselves increasingly in souls with widely different
characters, racial and national peculiarities, with widely
different temperaments, and holding widely differing
religious and philosophical views, and approach them with
understanding. Right interest, right understanding, calls forth
from the soul the right moral action.
Here also we must hold the balance between two extremes. One
extreme is apathy which passes everything by and occasions
immense moral mischief in the world. An apathetic person only
lives in himself; obstinately, insisting on his own principles,
and saying: This is my standpoint. In a moral sense this
insistence upon a standpoint is always bad. The essential thing
is for us to have an open mind and be alive
to all that surrounds us. Apathy separates us from the
world, while interest unites us with it. The world loses us
through our apathy: in this direction we become
immoral. Thus we see that apathy and lack of
interest in the world are morally evil in the highest
degree.
Anthroposophy is something which makes the mind ever more
active, helps us to think with greater readiness of what is
spiritual and to take it into ourselves. Just as it is
true that warmth comes from the fire when we light a stove so
it is true that interest in humanity and the world comes when
we study spiritual science. Wisdom is the fuel for interest and
we may say, although this may perhaps not be evident without
further explanation, that Anthroposophy arouses this
interest in us when we study those more remote subjects, the
teachings concerning the evolutionary stages through Saturn,
Sun and Moon, and the meaning of Karma and so on. It really
comes about that interest is produced as the result of
anthroposophical knowledge while from materialistic knowledge
comes something which in a radical manner must be described as
apathy and which, if it alone were to hold sway in the world,
would, of necessity, do untold harm.
See how many people go through the world and meet this or that
person, but really do not get to know him, for they are quite
shut up in themselves. How often do we find that two people
have been friends for a long time and then suddenly there comes
a rupture. This is because the friendship had a materialistic
foundation and only after the lapse of time did they discover
that they were mutually unsympathetic. At the present
time very few people have the “hearing” ear for
that which speaks from man to man; but Anthroposophy should
bring about an expansion of our perceptions, so that we shall
gain a “seeing” eye and an open mind for all that
is human around us and so we shall not go through the world.
apathetically, but with true interest.
We
also avoid the other extreme by distinguishing between true and
false interests, and thus observe the happy mean. Immediately
to throw oneself, as it were, into the arms of each person we
meet is to lose oneself passionately in the person; that is not
true interest. If we do this, we lose ourselves to the world.
Through apathy the world loses us; through uncontrolled passion
we lose ourselves to the world. But through healthy, devoted
interest we stand morally firm in the centre, in the state of
balance.
In
the third post-Atlantean age of civilisation, that is, in the
Chaldaic-Egyptian age, there still existed in a large part of
humanity on earth a certain power to hold the balance between
apathy and the passionate intoxicating devotion to the world;
and it is this, which in ancient times, and also by Plato and
Aristotle, was called wisdom. But people looked upon this
wisdom as the gift of superhuman beings, for up to that time
the ancient impulses of wisdom were active. Therefore, from
this point of view, especially relating to moral impulses, we
may call the third post-Atlantean age, the age of instinctive
wisdom. You will perceive the truth of what was said last year,
though with a different intention, in the Copenhagen lectures
on The Spiritual Guidance of Man and Mankind. In
those lectures we showed how, in the third post-Atlantean
age, mankind still stood nearer to the divine spiritual powers.
And that which drew mankind closer to the divine spiritual
powers, was instinctive wisdom.
Thus, it was a gift of the gods to find at that time the happy
mean in action, between apathy and sensuous passionate
devotion. This balance, this equilibrium was at that time still
maintained through external institutions. The complete
intermingling of humanity which came about in the fourth age of
post-Atlantean development through the migrations of various
peoples, did not yet exist. Mankind was still divided into
smaller peoples and tribes. Their interests were wisely
regulated by nature, and were so far active that the right
moral impulses could penetrate; and on the other hand, through
the existence of blood kinsmanship in the tribe, an obstacle
was placed in the way of sensual
passion. Even to-day one cannot fail to observe that it is
easiest to show interest within blood-relationship and common
descent, but in this there is not what is called sensuous
passion. As people were gathered together in relatively small
tracts of country in the Egypto-Chaldaic age, the wise and
happy mean was easily found.
But the idea of the progressive development of humanity is
that, which originally was instinctive, which was only
spiritual, shall gradually disappear and that man shall become
independent of the divine spiritual powers. Hence we see that
even in the fourth post-Atlantean age, the Graeco-Latin
age, not only the philosophers, Plato and Aristotle, but also
public opinion in Greece, considered wisdom as something
which must be gained as something which is no longer the gift
of the gods, but after which man must strive. According to
Plato, the first virtue is wisdom, and according to him, he who
does not strive after wisdom is immoral.
We
are now in the fifth post-Atlantean age. We are still far from
the time when the wisdom instinctively implanted in
humanity as a divine impulse, will be raised into
consciousness. Hence in our age people are specially liable to
err in both the directions we have mentioned, and it is
therefore particularly necessary that the great dangers to be
found at this point should be counteracted by a spiritual
conception of the World, so that what man once possessed as
instinctive wisdom may now become conscious wisdom. The
Anthroposophical Movement is to contribute to this end.
The gods once gave wisdom to the unconscious human soul, so
that it possessed this wisdom instinctively, whereas now we
have first to learn the truths about the cosmos and about human
evolution. The ancient customs were also fashioned after the
thoughts of the gods.
We
have the right view of Anthroposophy when we look upon it as
the investigations of the thoughts of the gods. In former times
these flowed instinctively into man, but now we have to
investigate them, to make the knowledge of them our own. In
this sense Anthroposophy must be sacred to us; we must be able
to consider reverently that the ideas imparted to us are really
something divine, and something which we human beings are
allowed to think and reflect upon as the divine thoughts
according to which the world has been ordered. When
Anthroposophy stands in this aspect to us, we can then consider
the knowledge it imparts in such a way that we understand that
it has been given us so as to enable us to fulfil our mission.
Mighty truths are made known to us, when we study what has been
imparted concerning the evolutions of Saturn, Sun and Moon,
concerning reincarnation, and the development of the various
races, etc. But we only assume the right attitude towards it
when we say: The thoughts we seek are the thoughts wherewith
the gods have guided evolution. We think the evolution of the
gods. If we understand this correctly we are overwhelmed by
something that is deeply moral. This is inevitable. Then we
say: In ancient times man had instinctive wisdom from the gods,
who gave him the wisdom according to which they fashioned the
world, and morality thus became possible. But through
Anthroposophy we now acquire this wisdom consciously. Therefore
we may also trust that in us it shall be transformed into moral
impulses, so that we do not merely receive anthroposophical
wisdom, but a moral stimulus as well.
Now into what sort of moral impulses will the wisdom acquired
through Anthroposophy be transformed? We must here touch
upon a point whose development the anthroposophist can foresee,
the profound moral significance and moral weight of which he
even ought to foresee, a point of development which is
far removed from what is customary at the present time, which
is what Plato called the “ideal of wisdom.” He
named it with a word which was in common use when man still
possessed the ancient wisdom, and it would be well to replace
this by the word truth,
for as we have now become more individual, we have withdrawn
ourselves from the divine, and must therefore strive back to
it. We must learn to feel the full weight and meaning of the
word ‘truth,’ and this in a moral
sense will be a result of an anthroposophical world conception
and conviction. Anthroposophists must understand how important
it is to be filled with the moral element of truth in an age
when materialism has advanced so far that one may indeed still
speak of truth, but when the general life and understanding is
far removed from perceiving what is right in this direction.
Nor can this be otherwise at the present time; as owing to a
certain quality acquired by modern life, truth is something
which must, to a great extent, be lacking in the understanding
of the day, I ask what does a man feel to-day when in the
newspapers or some other printed matter he finds
certain information, and afterwards it transpires that it is
simply untrue? I seriously ask you to ponder over this. One
cannot say that it happens in every case, but one must assert
that it probably happens in every fourth case. Untruthfulness
has everywhere become a quality of the age; it is impossible to
describe truth as a characteristic of our times.
For instance, take a man whom you know to have written or said
something false, and place the facts before him. As a rule, you
will find that he does not fear such a thing to be wrong. He
will immediately make the excuse: “But I said it in
good faith.” Anthroposophists must not consider it moral
when a person says it is merely incorrect what he has said in
good faith. People will learn to understand more and more, that
they must first ascertain that what they assert really
happened. No man should make a statement, or impart
anything to another until he has exhausted every means to
ascertain the truth of his assertions; and it is only when he
recognises this obligation that he can perceive
truth as moral impulse. And then when someone has
either written or said something that is incorrect, he will no
longer say: “I thought it was so, said it in good
faith,” for he will learn that it is his duty to express
not merely what he thinks is right, but it is also his duty to
say only what is true, and correct. To this end, a radical
change must gradually come about in our cultural life. The
speed of travel, the lust of sensation on the part of man,
everything that comes with a materialistic age, is
opposed to truth. In the sphere of morality, Anthroposophy will
be an educator of humanity to the duty of truth.
My
business today is not to say how far truth has been already
realised in the Anthroposophical Society, but to show that what
I have said must be a principle, a lofty anthroposophical
ideal. The moral evolution within the movement will have enough
to do if the moral ideal of truth is thought, felt and
perceived in all directions, for this ideal must be what
produces the virtue of the sentient-soul of man in the
right way.
The second part of the soul of which we have to speak in
Anthroposophy is what we usually call the mind-soul, or
intellectual-soul (German —
Gemütsseele). You know that it
developed especially in the fourth post-Atlantean, or
Graeco-Latin age. The virtue which is the particular emblem for
this part of the soul is bravery, valour and courage; we have
already dwelt on this many times, and also on the fact that
foolhardiness and cowardice are its extremes. Courage, bravery,
valour is the mean between foolhardiness and cowardice. The
German word “gemüt” expresses in the
sound of the word that it is related to this. The word
“gemüt” indicates the mid-part of the
human soul, the part that is “mutvoll,” full of
“mut,” courage, strength and force.
This was the second, the middle virtue of Plato and Aristotle.
It is that virtue which in the fourth post-Atlantean age still
existed in man as a divine gift, while wisdom was really only
instinctive in the third. Instinctive valour and bravery
existed as a gift of the gods (you may gather this from the
first lecture) among the people who, in the fourth age, met the
expansion of Christianity to the north. They showed that among
them valour was still a gift of the gods. Among the Chaldeans
wisdom, the wise penetration into the secrets of the starry
world, existed as a divine gift, as something inspired.
Among the people of the fourth post-Atlantean age, there
existed valour and bravery, especially among the Greeks and
Romans, but it existed also among the peoples whose work it
became to spread Christianity. This instinctive valour
was lost later than instinctive wisdom.
If
we look round us now in the fifth post-Atlantean age, we see
that, as regards valour and bravery, we are in the same
position in respect of the Greeks as the Greeks were to the
Chaldeans and Egyptians in regard to wisdom. We look back to
what was a divine gift in the age immediately preceding ours,
and in a certain way we can strive for it again. However, the
two previous lectures have shown us, that in connection with
this effort a certain transformation must take place. We
have seen the transformation in Francis of Assisi of that
divine gift which manifested itself as bravery and valour. We
saw that the transformation came about as the result of an
inner moral force which in our last lecture we found to be the
force of the Christ-impulse; the transformation of valour
and bravery into true love. But this true love must be guided
by another virtue, by the interest in the being to whom we turn
our love. In his Timon of Athens Shakespeare shows how
love, or warmth of heart, causes harm, when it is passionately
manifested; when it appears merely as a quality of human nature
without being guided by wisdom and truth. A man is described
who gave freely of his possessions, who squandered his living
in all directions. Liberality is a virtue, but Shakespeare also
shows us that nothing but parasites are produced by what is
squandered.
Just as ancient valour and bravery were guided from the
Mysteries by the European Brahmins — those wise leaders
who kept themselves hidden in the background — so also in human
nature this virtue must accord with and be guided by interest.
Interest, which connects us with the external world in the
right way, must lead and guide us when, with our love, we turn
to the world. Fundamentally this may be seen from the
characteristic and striking example of Francis of Assisi. The
sympathy he expressed was not obtrusive or offensive. Those who
overwhelm others with their sympathy are by no means always
actuated by the right moral impulses. And how many there are
who will not receive anything that is given out of pity. But to
approach another with, understanding is not offensive.
Under some circumstances a person must needs refuse to be
sympathised with; but the attempt to understand his nature is
something to which no reasonable person can object. Hence also
the attitude of another person cannot be blamed or condemned if
his actions are determined by this principle.
It
is understanding which can guide us with respect to this second
virtue: Love. It is that which, through the Christ-impulse, has
become the special virtue of the mind-soul or
intellectual-soul; it is the virtue which may be described as
human love accompanied by human understanding. Sympathy in
grief and joy is the virtue which in the future must produce
the most beautiful and glorious fruits in human social life,
and, in one who rightly understands the Christ-impulse, this
sympathy and this love will originate quite naturally, it will
develop into feeling. It is precisely through the
anthroposophical understanding of the Christ-impulse that
it will become feeling.
Through the Mystery of Golgotha Christ descended into earthly
evolution; His impulses, His activities are here now, they are
everywhere. Why did He descend to this earth? In order that
through what He has to give to the world, evolution may go
forward in the right way. Now that the Christ-impulse is in the
world, if through what is immoral, if
through lack of interest in our fellow-men, we destroy
something, then we take away a portion of the world into which
the Christ-impulse has flowed. Thus because the Christ-impulse
is now here, we directly destroy something of it. But if we
give to the world what can be given to it through virtue, which
is creative, we build. We build through self-surrender.
It is not without reason that it has often been said, that
Christ was first crucified on Golgotha, but that He is
crucified again and again through the deeds, of man. Since
Christ has entered into the Earth development through the deed
upon Golgotha, we, by our immoral
deeds, by our unkindness and lack of interest, add to the
sorrow and pain inflicted upon Him. Therefore it has been said,
again and again: Christ is crucified anew as long as
immorality, unkindness and lack of
interest exist. Since the Christ-impulse has permeated the
world, it is this which is made to suffer.
Just as it is true that through evil, which is
destructive, we withdraw something from the
Christ-impulse and continue the crucifixion upon
Golgotha, it is also true that when we act out of love, in all
cases where we use love, we add to the Christ-impulse, we help
to bring it to life. “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto
one of the least of these My brethren, ye have done it unto
Me” (Matthew 25, 40), this is the most significant
statement of love and this statement must become the most
profound moral impulse if it is once anthroposophically
understood. We do this when with understanding we confront our
fellow-men and offer them something in our actions, our virtue,
our conduct towards them which is conditioned by our
understanding of their nature. Our attitude towards our
fellow-men is our attitude towards the Christ-impulse
itself.
It
is a powerful moral impulse, something which is a real
foundation for morals, when we feel: ‘The Mystery of Golgotha
was accomplished for all men, and an impulse has thence spread
abroad throughout the whole world. When you are dealing with
your fellow-men, try to understand them in their special,
characteristics of race, colour, nationality, religious faith,
philosophy, etc. If you meet them and do this or that to them,
you do it to Christ. Whatever you do to men, in the present
condition of the earth's evolution, you do to Christ.’ This
statement: “What ye have done to one of My brothers, ye
have done unto Me,” will at the same time become a mighty
moral impulse to the man who understands the fundamental
significance of the Mystery of Golgotha. So that we may say:
Whereas the gods of pre-Christian times gave instinctive
wisdom to man, instinctive valour and bravery, so now love
streams down from the symbol of the cross, the love which is
based upon the mutual interest of man in man.
Thereby the Christ-impulse will work powerfully in the world.
On the day when it comes about that the Brahmin not only loves
and understands the Brahmin, the Pariah the Pariah, the Jew the
Jew, and the Christian the Christian; but when the Jew is able
to understand the Christian, the Pariah the Brahmin, the
American the Asiatic, as man, and put himself in his place,
then one will know how deeply it is felt in a Christian way
when we say: “All men must feel themselves to be
brothers, no matter what their religious creed may be.”
We ought to consider what otherwise binds us as being of little
value. Father, mother, brother, sister, even one's own life one
ought to value less than that
which speaks from one human soul to the other. He who, in this
sense does not regard as base all that impairs the
connection with the Christ-impulse cannot be Christ's
disciple. The Christ-impulse balances and compensates
human differences. Christ's disciple is one who regards mere
human distinctions as being of little account, and clings to
the impulse of love streaming forth from the Mystery of
Golgotha, which in this respect we perceive as a renewal of
what was given to mankind as original virtue.
We
have now but to consider what may be spoken of as the virtue of
the Consciousness- or Spiritual- Soul. When we consider the
fourth post-Atlantean age, we find that Temperance or
Moderation was still instinctive. Plato and Aristotle called it
the chief virtue of the Spiritual-Soul. Again they comprehended
it as a state of balance, as the mean of what exists in the
Spiritual-soul. The Spiritual-Soul consists in man's
becoming conscious of the external world through his bodily
nature. The sense body is primarily the instrument of the
Spiritual-Soul, and it is also the sense body through
which man arrives at self-consciousness.
Therefore the sense-body of man must be preserved. If it
were not preserved for the mission of the earth, then that
mission could not be fulfilled. But here also there is a limit.
If a man only used all the forces he possessed in order to
enjoy himself, he would shut himself up in himself, and the
world would lose him. The man who merely enjoys himself, who
uses all his forces merely to give himself pleasure, cuts
himself off from the world — so thought Plato and Aristotle —
the world loses him. And he, who denies himself everything
renders himself weaker and weaker, and is finally laid hold of
by the external world-process, and is crushed by the outer
world. For he who goes beyond the forces appropriate to him as
man, he who goes to excess is laid hold of by the world-process
and is lost in it.
Thus what man has developed,
for the building up of the Spiritual-soul can be dissolved, so
that he comes into the position of losing the world.
Temperance, or Moderation, is the virtue which enables
man to avoid these extremes. Temperance implies neither
asceticism nor gluttony, but the happy mean between these two;
and this is the virtue of the
Spiritual-Soul. Regarding this virtue we have not yet
progressed beyond the instinctive standpoint. A little
reflection will teach you that, on the whole, people are very
much given to sampling the two extremes. They swing to and fro
between them. Leaving out of account the few who at the present
day endeavour to gain clear views on this subject, you will
find that the majority of people live very much after a
particular pattern. In Central Europe this is often described
by saying: There are people in Berlin who eat and drink to
excess the entire winter, and then in summer they go to
Carlsbad in order to remove the ill-effects produced by months
of intemperance, thus going from one extreme to the other. Here
you have the tipping of the
scale, first to one side and then to the other. This is only a
radical case. It is very evident that though the foregoing is
extreme, and not universal to any great extent, still the
oscillation between enjoyment and deprivation exists
everywhere. People themselves ensure that there is excess
on one side, and then they get the physicians to prescribe a
so-called lowering system of cure, that is, the other extreme,
in order that the ill effects may be repaired.
From this, it will be seen that in this respect people are
still in an instinctive condition, that there is still an
instinctive feeling, which is a kind of divine gift, not to go
too far in one direction or another. But just as the other
instinctive qualities of man were lost, these, too, will be
lost with the transition from the fifth to the sixth
post-Atlantean age. This quality which is still possessed as a
natural tendency will be lost; and now you will be able to
judge how much the anthroposophical world conception and
conviction will have to contribute in order gradually to
develop consciousness in this field.
At
the present time there are very few, even developed
anthroposophists, who see clearly that Anthroposophy provides
the means to gain the right consciousness in this field also.
When Anthroposophy is able to bring more weight to bear in this
direction, then will appear what I can only describe in the
following way: people will gradually long more and more for
great spiritual truths. Although Anthroposophy is still scorned
to-day, it will not always be so. It will spread, and overcome
all its external opponents, and everything else still opposing
it, and anthroposophists will not be satisfied by merely
preaching universal love. It will be understood that one cannot
acquire Anthroposophy in one day, any more than a person
can take sufficient nourishment in one day to last the whole of
his life. Anthroposophy has to be acquired to an ever
increasing extent. It will come to pass that in the
Anthroposophical Movement it will not be so often stated that
these are our principles, and if we have these principles then
we are anthroposophists; for the feeling and experience
of standing in a community of the living element in
anthroposophy will extend more and more.
Moreover, let us consider what happens by people mentally
working upon the particular thoughts, the particular feelings
and impulses which come
from anthroposophical wisdom. We all know that anthroposophists
can never have a materialistic view of the world, they have
exactly the opposite, But he who says the following is a
materialistic thinker: “When one thinks, a movement of
the molecules or atoms of the brain takes place, and it is
because of this movement that one has thought. Thought proceeds
from the brain somewhat like a thin smoke, or it is something
like the flame from a candle.” Such, is the materialistic
view. The anthroposophical view is the opposite. In the latter
it is the thought, the experience in the soul which sets the
brain and nervous system in motion. The way in which our brain
moves depends upon what thoughts we think. This is exactly the
opposite of what is said by the materialist. If you wish to
know how the brain of a person is constituted, you must inquire
into what thoughts he has, for just as the printed characters
of a book are nothing else than the consequence of thoughts, so
the movements of the brain are nothing else than the
consequence of thoughts.
Must we not then say that the brain will be differently
affected when it is filled with anthroposophical thoughts
than it will be in a society which plays cards? Different
processes are at work in your minds when you follow
anthroposophical thoughts from when you are in a company of
card players, or see the pictures in a movie theatre. In the
human organism nothing is isolated or stands alone. Everything
is connected; one part acts and reacts on another. Thoughts act
upon the brain and nervous system, and the latter is connected
with the whole organism, and although many people may not yet
be aware of it, when the hereditary characteristics still
hidden in the body are conquered, the following will come
about. The thoughts will be communicated from the brain to the
stomach, and the result will be that things that are pleasant
to people's taste to-day will no longer taste good to those who
have received anthroposophica1 thoughts. The thoughts
which anthroposophists have received are divine thoughts.
They act upon the whole organism in such a manner that it will
prefer to taste what is good for it. Man will smell and
perceive as unsympathetic what does not suit him — a pecu1iar
perspective, one which may perhaps be called materialistic, but
is exactly the reverse.
This kind of appetite will come as a consequence of
anthroposophical work; you will like one thing and prefer it at
meals, dislike another and not wish to eat it. You may judge
for yourselves when you notice that perhaps you now have an
aversion to things, which before your anthroposophical days you
did not possess. This will become more and more general when
man works selflessly at his higher development, so that the
world may receive what is right from him. One must not,
however, play fast-and-lose with the words
“selflessness” and “egoism.” These
words may very easily be misused. It is not altogether selfless
when someone says: “I shall only be active in the world
and for the world; what does it matter about my own spiritual
development? I shall only work, not strive egoistically!”
It is not egoism when a person undergoes a higher development,
because he thus fits himself more fully to bear an active part
in the furtherance of the world development. If a person
neglects his own further deve1opment, he renders himself
useless to the world, he withdraws his force from it. We must
do the right thing in this respect as well, in order to develop
in ourselves what the Deity had in view for us.
Thus, through Anthroposophy a human race, or rather, a nucleus
of humanity will be developed, which perceives temperance as a
guiding ideal not merely instinctively, but which has a
conscious sympathy for what makes man in_a worthy way into a
useful part of the divine world-order, and a conscious
disinclination for all that mars man as a part in the universal
order.
Thus we see that also in that which is produced in man himself,
there are moral impulses, and we find what we may call
life-wisdom or practica1 wisdom as transformed temperance. The
ideal of practical wisdom which is to be taken into
consideration for the next, the sixth post-Atlantean age,
will be the ideal virtue which Plato calls
“justice.” That is: the harmonious accord of these
virtues. As in humanity the virtues have altered to some
extent, so what was looked upon as justice in
pre-Christian times has also changed. A single virtue
such as this, which harmonises the others did not exist at that
time. The harmony of the virtues stood before the mental vision
of humanity as an ideal of the most distant future. We have
seen that the moral impulse of bravery has been changed to
love. We have also seen that wisdom has become truth. To begin
with, truth is a virtue which places man in a just and worthy
manner in external life. But if we wish to arrive at
truthfulness regarding spiritual things, how then can we
arrange it in relation to those things? We acquire
truthfulness, we gain the virtue of the Sentient-Soul through a
right and appropriate interest, through right
understanding. Now what is this interest with regard to
the spiritual world? If we wish to bring the physical world and
especially man before us, we must open ourselves towards him,
we must have a seeing eye for his nature. How do we obtain this
seeing-eye with reference to the spiritual world? We gain it by
developing a particular kind of feeling, that which appeared at
a time when the old instinctive wisdom had sunk into the depths
of the soul's life. This type of feeling was often described by
the Greeks in the words: “All philosophical thought
begins with wonder.” Something essentially moral is said
when we say that our relationship to the supersensible
world begins with wonder. The savage, uncultivated human being,
is but little affected by the great phenomena of the world. It
is through mental development that man comes to find riddles in
the phenomena of everyday life, and to perceive that there is
something spiritual at the back of them. It is wonder that
directs our souls up to the spiritual sphere in order that we
may penetrate to the knowledge of that world; and we can only
arrive at this knowledge when our soul is attracted by the
phenomena which it is possible to investigate. It is this
attraction which give rise to wonder, astonishment and faith.
It is always wonder and amazement which direct us to what is
supersensible, and at the same time, it is what one usually
describes as faith. Faith, wonder and amazement are the three
forces of the soul which lead us beyond the ordinary world.
When we contemplate man with wonder and amazement, we try to
understand him; by understanding his nature we attain to
the virtue of brotherhood, and we shall best realise this
by approaching the human being with reverence. We shall then
see that reverence is something
with which we must approach every human being and if we have
this attitude, we shall become more and more truthful. Truth
will become something by which we shall be bound by duty. Once
we have an inkling of it, the supersensible world becomes
something towards which we incline, and through knowledge we
shall attain to the supersensible wisdom which has already sunk
into the subconscious depths of the soul. Only after
supersensible wisdom had disappeared do we find the
statement that “philosophy begins with wonder and
amazement.” This statement will make it clear that wonder
only appeared in evolution in the age when the Christ-impulse
had come into the world.
It
has already been stated that the second virtue is love. Let us
now consider what we have described as instinctive temperance
for the present time, and as practical wisdom of life for the
future. Man confronts himself in these virtues. Through the
deeds he performs in the world, he acts in such a way that he
guards himself, as it were; it is therefore necessary for him
to gain an objective standard of value.
We
now see something appear which develops more and more, and
which I have often spoken of in other connections, something
which first appeared in the fourth post-Atlantean age, namely
the Greek. It can be shown that in the old Greek dramas, for
instance in Aeschylus, the Furies play a role which in
Euripides is transformed into conscience. From this we
see that in ancient times what we
call conscience did not exist at all. Conscience is
something that exists as a standard for our own actions when we
go too far in our demands, when we seek our own advantage too
much. It acts as a standard placed between our sympathies and
antipathies.
With this we attain to something which is more objective,
which, compared with the virtues of truth, love and practical
wisdom, acts in a much more objective, or outward manner. Love
here stands in the middle, and acts as something which has to
fill and regulate all life, also all social life. In the same
way it acts as the regulator of all that man has developed as
inner impulse. But that which he has developed as truth will
manifest itself as the belief in supersensible knowledge.
Life-wisdom, that which originates in ourselves, we must feel
as a divine spiritual regulator which, like conscience, leads
securely along the true middle course. If we had time it would
be very easy to answer the various objections which might be
raised at this point. But we shall only consider one, for
example, the objection to the assertion that conscience and
wonder are qualities which have only gradually developed in
humanity, whereas they are really eternal. But this they are
not. He who says that they are eternal qualities in human
nature only shows that he does not know the conditions attached
to them.
As
time goes on it will be found more and more that in ancient
times man had not as yet descended so far to the physical
plane, but was still more closely connected with divine
impulses, and that he was in a condition which he will again
consciously strive to reach when
he is ruled more by truth, love and the art of life in regard
to the physical plane, and when in regard to spiritual
knowledge he is actuated by faith in the supersensible world.
It is not necessarily the case that faith will directly lead
into that world, but it will at length be transformed into
supersensible knowledge. Conscience is that which will enter as
a regulator in the Consciousness- or Spiritual-Soul.
Faith, love, conscience; these three forces will become the
three stars of the moral forces which shall enter into human
souls particularly through Anthroposophy. The moral perspective
of the future can only be disclosed to those who think of these
three virtues being ever more increased Anthroposophy will
place moral life in the light of these virtues, and they will
be the constructive forces of the future.
Before closing our observations, there is one point which must
be considered. I shall only touch upon the subject, for it
would be impossible to analyse without giving many lectures.
The Christ-impulse entered human evolution through the
Mystery of Golgotha. We know that at that time a human organism
consisting of physical, etheric, and astral bodies received the
Ego-impulse or “I” from above, as the
Christ-impulse. It was this Christ-impulse which was received
by the earth and which flowed into earthly evolution. It was
now in it as the ego of Christ. We know further that the
physical body, etheric body and astral body remained with Jesus
of Nazareth; the Christ-impulse was within as the ego. At
Golgotha, Jesus of Nazareth separated from the Christ-impulse,
which then flowed into the earth development. The evolution of
this impulse signifies the evolution of the earth itself.
Earnestly consider certain things which are very often repeated
in order that they may be more easily understood. As we have
often heard, the world is maya or illusion, but man must
gradually penetrate to the truth, the reality of this external
world. The earth evolution fundamentally consists in the fact
that all the external things which have been formed in the
first half of the earth's development are dissolved in the
second half, in which we now are, so that all that we see
externally, physically, shall separate from human development
just as the physical body of a human being falls away. One
might ask: What will then be left? And the answer is: The
forces which are embodied in man as real forces through the
process of the development of humanity on the earth. And the
most real impulse in this development is that which has come
into earth evolution through the Christ-impulse. But this
Christ-impulse at first finds nothing with which it can clothe
itself. Therefore it has to obtain a covering through the
further development of the earth; and when this is concluded,
the fully developed Christ shall be the final man — as Adam was
the first — around whom humanity in its multiplicity has
grouped itself.
In
the words: “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the
least of these My brethren, ye have done it unto Me,” is
contained a significant hint for us. What has been done for
Christ? The actions performed in accordance with the
Christ-impulse under the influence of conscience, under the
influence of faith and according to knowledge, are developed
out on the earth-life up to the present time, and as, through
his actions and his moral attitude a person gives something to
his brethren, he gives at the same time to Christ. This should
be taken as a precept: All the forces we develop, all acts of
faith and trust, all acts performed as the result of wonder,
are — because we give it at the same time to the
Christ-Ego — something which closes like a covering round
the Christ and may be compared with the astral body of man.
We
form the astral body for the Christ-Ego-impulse by all
the moral activities of wonder, trust, reverence and faith, in
short, all that paves the way to supersensible knowledge.
Through all these activities we foster love. This is quite in
accordance with the statement we quoted: “What ye have
done to one, of the least of these My brethren, ye have done it
unto Me.”
We
form the etheric body for Christ through our deeds of love, and
through our actions in the world which we do through the
impulses of conscience we form for the Christ-impulse that
which corresponds to the physical body of man. When the earth
has one day reached its goal, when man understands the right
moral impulses through which all that is good is done, then
shall be perfected that which came as
an Ego or “I” into human development through the
Mystery of Golgotha as the Christ-impulse.
It shall then be enveloped by an astral body which is
formed through faith, through all the deeds of wonder and
amazement on the part of man. It shall be enveloped by
something which is like an etheric body which is formed through
deeds of love; and by something which envelops it like a
physical body, formed through the deeds of conscience.
Thus the future evolution of humanity shall be accomplished
through the co-operation of the moral impulses of man with the
Christ-impulse. We see humanity in perspective before us, like
a great organic structure. When people understand how to member
their actions into this great organism, and through their own
deeds form their impulses around it like a covering, they shall
then lay the foundations, in the course of earthly evolution,
for a great community, which can be permeated and
pervaded through and through by the Christ-impulse.
Thus we see that morals need not be preached, but they can
indeed be founded by showing facts that have really happened
and do still happen, confirming what is felt by persons with
special mental endowments. It should make a noteworthy
impression upon us if we bear in mind how, at the time when
Goethe lost his friend, Duke Charles Augustus, he wrote many
things in a long letter at Weimar, and then on the same day —
it was in the year 1828, just
three-and-a-half years before his own death, and almost at the
end of his life — he wrote a very remarkable sentence in his
diary: “The whole reasonable world may be considered as a
great immortal individual which uninterruptedly brings about
what is necessary and thereby makes itself master even over
chance.” How could such a thought become more concrete
than by our imagining this individual active among us, and by thinking
of ourselves as, being united with him in his work? Through the
Mystery of Golgotha the greatest Individual entered into human
development, and, when people intentionally direct their
lives in the way we have just described, they
shall build up a covering round the
Christ-impulse, so that around this Being there shall be formed
something which is like a covering around a kernel.
Much more could be said about virtue from the standpoint of
Anthroposophy. In particular long and important considerations
could be entered into concerning truth and its connection with
karma, for through Anthroposophy the idea of karma will have to
enter into human evolution more and more. Man will also have to
learn gradually so to consider and order his life that his
virtues correspond with karma. Through the idea of karma man
must also learn to recognise that he may not disown his former
deeds by his later ones. A certain feeling of responsibility in
life, a readiness to take upon ourselves the results of
what we have done, has yet to show itself as a result of human
evolution. How far removed man still is from this ideal we see
when we consider him more c1osely. That man develops by the
acts he has committed is a well-known fact.
When the consequences of an action seem to have come to
an end, then what could only be done if the first act had not
taken place, can still be done. The fact that a person
feels responsible for what he has done, the fact that he
consciously accepts the idea of karma, is something which might
also be a subject for study. But you will still find much for
yourselves by following the lines suggested in these three
lectures; you will find how fruitful these ideas can be if you
work them out further. As man will live for the remainder of
the earth development in repeated incarnations, it is his task
to rectify all the mistakes made respecting the virtues
described, by inclining to one side or the other, to change
them by shaping them of his own free will, so that the balance,
the mean, may come and thus the goal be gradually attained
which has been described as the formation of the coverings for
the Christ-impulse.
Thus we see before us not merely an abstract ideal of universal
brotherhood, which indeed may also receive a strong impulse if
we lay Anthroposophy at the foundation, but we see that there
is something real in our earthly evolution, we see that there
is in it an Impulse which came into the world through the
Mystery of Golgotha. And we also feel ourselves under the
necessity so to work upon the Sentient-Soul, the
Intellectual-Soul and the Spiritual-Soul, that this ideal Being
shall be actualised, and that we shall be united with Him as
with a great immortal Individual. The thought that the only
possibility of further evolution, the power to fulfil the earth
mission, lies in man's forming one whole with this great
Individual, is realised in the second moral principle: What you
do as if it were born from you alone, pushes you away and
separates you from the great Individual, you thereby destroy
something; but what you do to build up this great immortal
Individual in the way above described, that you do towards the
further development, the progressive life of the whole organism
of the world.
We
only require to place these two thoughts before us in order to
see that their effect is not only to preach morals, but to give
them a basis. For the thought: “Through your actions you
are destroying what you ought to build up,” is terrible
and fearful, keeping down all opposing desires. But the
thought: “You are building up this immortal Individual;
you are making yourself into a member of this immortal
Individual,” fires one to good deeds, to strong moral
impulses. In this way morals are not only preached, but we are
led to thoughts which themselves may be moral impulses, to
thoughts which are able to found morals.
The more the truth is cultivated, the more rapidly will the
anthroposophical world conception and feeling develop ethics
such as these. And it has been my task to express this in these
lectures. Naturally, many things have only been lightly touched
upon, but you will develop further in your own minds many ideas
which have been broached. In this way we shall be drawn more
closely together all over the earth. When we meet together — as
we have done on this occasion as anthroposophists of Northern
and Central Europe — to consider these subjects, and when we
allow the thoughts roused in us at gatherings such as this to
echo and re-echo through us, we shall in this way best make it
true that Anthroposophy is to provide the foundation —
even at the present time — for real spiritual life. And when we
have to part again we know that it is in our anthroposophical
thoughts that we are most at one, and this knowledge is at the
same time a moral stimulus. To know that we are united by the
same ideals with people who, as a rule, are widely separated
from one another in space, but with whom we may meet on special
occasions, is a stronger moral stimulus than being always
together.
That we should think in this way of our gathering, that we
should thus understand our studies together, fills my soul,
especially at the close of these lectures, as something by
which I should like to express my farewell greeting to you, and
concerning which I am convinced that, when it is understood in
the true light, the anthroposophical life which is developing
will also be spiritually well founded. With this thought and
these feelings let us close our studies today.
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