Lecture II
Berlin, June 5, 1917
In the last
lecture we began to consider aspects of mankind's
post-Atlantean evolution which can provide a key to our
present problems. Current events do indeed present a riddle
to those who attempt to understand them merely by means of
the materialistic concepts and ideas of our age. That we are
in need of new ideas must be obvious from the many things we
have considered. Concepts that sufficed in the past are no
longer sufficient to understand present-day life which has
become so much more complex. I have for years repeatedly
emphasized in various lectures something which I believe to
be of utmost importance for the present time.
I have
repeatedly said in various places the following: If we survey
the field and scope of thoughts and ideas, by means of which
attempts are made to understand the world and attain a
glimpse behind the scenes of external physical reality, we
shall find that the most valuable of those ideas originated
in the fourth post-Atlantean epoch. The fifth post-Atlantean
epoch which began in 1413 has not produced any ideas that are
fundamentally new. Certainly it has produced, in admirable
fashion, an enormous amount of new facts and combinations of
facts. However, they are understood in the light of the old
ideas. Let us take an example: What Darwin and his successors
have brought together, in order to demonstrate organic
relationships, has been introduced into the concept of
evolution; but the concept of evolution is in itself not new;
it stems from the fourth post-Atlantean epoch. When concepts
and ideas are taken seriously and their true nature and
reality is understood, then it will be seen that this way of
dealing with issues permeates all spheres of knowledge.
Only when
Goethe brought the ideas from the past into movement can it
be said that a step forward was made. He saw in the concept
as such the possibility of transformation, of metamorphosis
and thus introduced something quite new which as yet is not
properly appreciated. Concepts of blossom, of fruit and so on
he saw as transformations of the basic concept
“leaf.”
[ Note 1 ]
To recognize a living mobility in concepts and mental
pictures is something new. It enables one to transform
concepts within oneself so that they follow the manifold
metamorphoses taking place in the phenomena of nature. I have
for many years pointed out that this is Goethe's most
important discovery, a discovery whose further development is
to be found only in spiritual science. Spiritual science
alone brings man new concepts enabling him to penetrate true
reality.
It is of
special importance that the concept of history should be
widened. In our recent considerations we have in fact worked
with a much extended concept of history. This enabled us more
particularly to recognize how the constitution and whole
disposition of man's soul has changed. Just a few centuries
ago man's soul was fundamentally different from what, in
conformity with human evolution, it is now. I drew attention
to the fact that during the first, the ancient Indian epoch,
man continued his bodily development right up to the ages
between 56 and 48. I tried to illustrate this by saying that
whereas today in the child and youth the development of the
spirit-soul being takes its course parallel to the
development of the physical body, in that ancient cultural
epoch this continued right into the fifties of a person's
life. Today man no longer notices when his body passes beyond
the 30th year. All he is aware of inwardly is that in
childhood his muscles become stronger and the nerve functions
change. It is during this time when changes take place in
muscles, nerves and blood that he notices the soul-spiritual
element following a parallel development to that of the
physical organism. Then comes the time when the soul and
spirit cease to be dependent on the organism. However, in the
ancient Indian epoch, the dependence persisted, and this is
something we must consider in more detail.
Man was at that
time, just as he is now, more or less consciously aware of
becoming physically stronger during childhood, aware also
that at the same time his life of will, of feeling and also
his mental life became different. In other words, he was
aware during childhood and youth of his soul's dependence on
the growing, thriving, flourishing life of the organism. Then
came the time when he reached the middle of life which occurs
in his thirties; the 35th year must be regarded as the middle
of life. Today man is not aware of going through the middle
of life the way he is aware, for example, of going through
puberty from 12 to 16. But in that ancient time man was aware
of this; he sensed to a certain extent, that before he
reached his thirties life had welled up within him, had grown
ever stronger till it reached a climax and now had begun to
recede. He sensed that growth had stopped, that the formation
of nerves had come to an end and that from now on he would
remain as he was. Those who were particularly sensitive even
felt their life forces become sluggish and recede; they felt
ossification taking place and that they were becoming
mineralized.
When man at
that time reached his forties he felt that a decisive decline
began, that the organic life was withdrawing. But he also
experienced something which can be experienced no longer,
namely his soul's dependence on the declining life of the
body. Thus, in that ancient time man experienced going
through three stages of development whereas now he
experiences at most going through one.
How were the
three stages experienced? Let us look quite carefully at the
dependence on the thriving, flourishing life forces during
the body's growth; let us establish initially that an
individual felt himself to be thoroughly healthy—
something very few people do today — so that he
strongly experienced that the healthy, flourishing, thriving
life welling up within him was carried by the spirit. After
all, what grows is not the merely physical substances taken
in as nourishment; it is the spiritual forces underlying the
body that cause growth and development. One can look at one's
origin as a human being and say: My body came into being
through hereditary substances; the spirit united itself with
the body and caused its growth and development. In that
ancient time man's spirit-soul being felt itself within the
body; its healthy dependence upon the body was felt to be
brought about by God, and indeed by God the Father. Man at
that time said to himself something like this: I am placed
into the world with forces of growth, of thriving, and
provided one pays attention and has a feeling for what takes
place in the body, then the soul can sense in the growing and
thriving the effect of the Father God. Man felt related to
nature, that human beings grow and thrive just as plants and
animals do. He felt related to natural existence and felt the
Father God within himself. Thus you see that something which
today can take place only under exceptional circumstances was
in that ancient time experienced simply as part of life. Then
began the period in the life of the individual when he passed
through the middle of life and therefore through the
culmination, the climax of the growing, thriving life forces,
and then the time of decline began.
As we have
seen, the growing, thriving life of the healthy body, upon
which the spirit-soul being of man knew itself dependent,
called forth the feeling “ex deo nascimur,”
“from God I am born.” Man felt he originated from
God, who also caused his further growth and development. When
he passed beyond the middle of life, he could still detect
during ordinary waking consciousness the thriving life
forces. This was partly because he still remembered his
spirit-soul being's earlier dependence on the bodily nature
and because he could observe growth and thriving of a similar
kind in external nature. However, during lowered states of
consciousness, such as dream or sleep and also during the
state of atavistic clairvoyance, the astral body and
I withdrew from the declining life forces which
remained connected with the physical body. It is during sleep
that the declining life forces are particularly important to
man. In that ancient time those who reached the age when
their life forces were declining perceived them particularly
in such states of lowered consciousness. And when the
physical body began to withdraw and become sclerotic, the
soul began to live within the spirit of the whole cosmic
environment. Thus in that ancient epoch, when man had passed
the climax of the thriving life forces and the body's decline
had set in, he perceived in waking consciousness the
spiritual in all natural existence; in states of dream, of
sleep, or of atavistic clairvoyance he perceived the spirit
that pervades the whole cosmos.
Try to imagine
these experiences: Man felt his awareness of the
spirit-permeated, God-ensouled nature alternate with
awareness of the spirit of the cosmos; one kind he
experienced as ascending, the other as descending. Thus he
was directly aware of the union of the spirit of the cosmos
with the spirit of nature and was conscious that the spirit
of nature is on earth and the spirit of the cosmos in the
earth's environment. He knew that they are related, that they
weave into one another and that during his life man passes
from one to the other. When his life forces began to decline
after having reached their climax, he experienced becoming
permeated with the spirit of the cosmos, later known as the
Christ.
At that time,
during their forties and beyond, people experienced their
spirit-soul being's dependence on their declining life
forces, especially during dream, sleep and other states of
semi-consciousness. If they lived beyond their forties, they
became aware of the spirit itself, the spirit which is not
linked to matter, but lives as spirit. From their forties
onwards they perceived the Holy Spirit. Thus when we look
back to that ancient time we find that people in the course
of their life perceived directly the Father-God, the
Christ-God—who had not yet descended to earthly
existence — and the Holy Spirit. Such direct human
experiences are the basis for the ancient religious
traditions, to be found everywhere, of a divine Trinity.
We see in this
how one truth complements another, which is something that
must be recognized more and more as a feature of science of
the spirit. If it were recognized, we would not hear remarks,
such as those made recently to a member of our movement, to
the effect that what is said in our lectures is all very
beautiful but lacks all foundation. Such a statement is just
about as clever, or should I say stupid, as it would be had
someone said, when Copernicus established that the earth
circles the sun and consequently cannot be fixed on a base;
Oh, but the earth lacks all foundation—planets and
stars must be sitting on something! Just as planets and stars
are self-supporting physically, so it should be recognized
that the science of the spirit is an edifice whose individual
aspects are mutually self-supporting.
We now come to
the ancient Persian epoch during which, as described, man's
natural development continued only in his forties, that is,
to the ages between 48 and 42. You will realize that this
meant the direct vision of the spirit in its purity faded,
though there was still an awareness of it. Those who lived
beyond the ages between 48 and 42 could still be aware of the
Holy Spirit.
Then came the
Chaldean-Egyptian epoch. Mankind's general age dropped to
that between 42 and 35. Vision of the spirit in its purity
clouded over. Towards the end of this epoch it was really
only those initiated in the mysteries who could know about
the pure spirit. In the mysteries everywhere one could, of
course, learn through direct vision about the secret of the
Trinity. But as far as ordinary life was concerned
understanding of the spirit receded. However, in this third
post-Atlantean epoch man was still strongly conscious that in
the cosmos, in the heavens, an ascending and descending
spirit lives. Consciousness of the cosmic Christ was general.
Man was still strongly conscious of his connection with the
world of the Gods.
As we come to
the fourth post-Atlantean epoch all this changes. During this
epoch mankind's age corresponded to that of individual man
between 35 and 28. At the beginning of this epoch, which
began in 747
B.C.
and ended in
Then came the
fifth post-Atlantean epoch. Mankind's age dropped to 28 and
will drop to 21 during this epoch. As I have mentioned we
live at the time when mankind's general age is about 27.
Therefore (and this must be continually emphasized) it is now
necessary that within the soul, forces are initiated which do
not arise because bodily forces shoot into the soul. Now
spiritual impulses, engendered independently, must be
established in the soul, impulses which further the soul in
its independence from the body. A healthy person leading a
healthy life can sense the dependence on the Father God up to
about his 30th year; that is, as long as the forces of growth
are still thriving in his body, even if only those of his
muscles. As you will realize, it is essential that, as the
fifth epoch progresses, there should develop a healthy sense
also for the divine spiritual element that withdraws from the
forces of growth. A sense and feeling for this was still
vivid in the fourth post-Atlantean epoch right up to the 15th
century. In that epoch mankind's general age corresponded to
the middle of life spanning the ages between 35 and 28.
Already mankind's age is one year less; because of this, the
bodily constitution of man makes him inclined toward
materialism and atheism. The spread of atheism is due to
man's bodily organism. It will spread ever more unless a
spiritual counterbalance is created by impulses that
originate purely within the soul, developed in complete
independence of the body. Man becomes an atheist when he
ceases to participate in the forces of growth and thriving,
and therefore no longer experiences himself as a healthy,
complete human being. That is why I have said that one can
only be an atheist when one does not, in a healthy way, sense
one's spirit-soul being's connection with the growing and
developing bodily nature. Spiritual science recognizes
atheism as an illness that will increasingly take hold of man
in the course of his normal evolution. This is because man
will more and more lack the support provided by the bodily
nature which enables him to grasp reality in general.
To deny or fail
to recognize Christ must be regarded as a misfortune, a
tragic destiny, for Christ — from the external world
— comes to meet man full of grace. To fail to recognize
the spirit must be regarded as soul blindness. To be an
atheist is an illness; what is meant is, of course, illness
in the widest sense. It is necessary to make these
distinctions.
From what has
been explained you can see that if one truly wants to
understand the evolution of the human race, a completely new
concept of evolution is needed. The Darwinian idea of
evolution is dreadfully abstract; once its crudeness has been
recognized it will be realized that along that path no
progress is possible. Evolution follows, as we have seen, an
ascending as well as a descending line. The view of today's
superficial materialism is that evolution starts from a
certain form of life which then progresses to ever higher
stages, thus believing that there is a continuous trend
towards ever greater perfection.
During
post-Atlantean epochs man's evolution goes in the direction
of his soul and spirit becoming ever more independent of the
body. During the earlier epochs there burst into his soul and
spirit, from his bodily nature, comprehension of the Father,
the Son and the Holy Spirit. The first to fade was
comprehension of the Holy Spirit, next that of the Son, and
we are now at the stage when, in ordinary life, comprehension
of the Father is fading. This fading comprehension of the
Father has its origin in man's life of feeling, for as I
said, man is at present more or less conscious of his
soul-spirit's connection with the bodily nature. This is
related to something else. Bear in mind that in general man's
spirit-soul being receives less and less from the bodily
nature, with the consequence that, if man wants to approach
the spirit, he must do so along paths where there is no
support from the bodily organism. This accounts for the fact,
clearly perceptible to those able to observe such things,
that man produces ever fewer concepts and ideas. The concepts
and ideas at man's disposal in ancient times bubbled forth,
so to speak, from his bodily nature, for all matter contains
spirit and this the body simply handed over of itself. But
now the body provides man with fewer and fewer concepts and
mental pictures. So, expressing it somewhat drastically, he
must now rack his brain more and more or, if he is too
easy-going, not rack it. Either way he no longer finds
concepts welling up within him; he must turn to spiritual
knowledge if he wants to acquire them. Spiritual science
provides mobile concepts which, in contrast to the rigid,
lifeless concepts understood by means of the physical body,
must be understood by means of the ether body. Thus, in the
course of normal evolution, man becomes ever poorer in
concepts. The way he is naturally organized prevents him, if
he refuses the path of spiritual knowledge, from delving into
true reality.
This explains
the present situation. It makes comprehensible what must be
described, without levelling any criticism, as the cause for
man becoming ever more obtuse without spiritual knowledge.
These are things that must be faced in deep earnestness. The
brain will gradually become more and more mineralized, it
will become a blunt insensible instrument with which ideas
capable of delving into reality can no longer be formulated.
Only people who make no effort and feel no inclination to
understand what is actually taking place in the world can
pass these things by. Yet it is of utmost urgency that one
should try to understand.
Provided one is
not asleep, one cannot be unaware of the many curious things
that occur. However, most people are asleep for they are
aware only of what takes place on the surface, not of the
effective impulses beneath. If one pays attention to what
goes on there is much that seems inexplicable, for without
spiritual insight one is helpless in face of these riddles.
An event that illustrates this quite aptly took place
recently in Austria. A certain Robert Scheu, a man of great
idealism, has tried for decades to bring about what he
visualized as a movement of a cultural-political nature.
[ Note 2 ]
He is concerned about the kind of issues often discussed in our
circles. In his endeavour to discover new approaches to political
issues, he gathered around him a group of intellectuals. His aim
was that together they should discover policies that would ensure
greater spiritual influence in people's lives.
This start to
the project would have been commendable if by bringing
intellectuals together, spiritual influences in people's
destinies could be ensured. But what induced Robert Scheu to
start this venture in the 1890s? The impulse arose within him
from an indefinite feeling that things could not go on as
they were; he felt some essential ingredient was missing in
life which must be discovered. Needless to say he has not
found what mankind so sorely needs. Like so many others who
vaguely feel something is missing, he looks upon spiritual
science as fantastic superstition. Such people consider
themselves far too clever to be concerned with matters of
this kind. However, Robert Scheu does feel very strongly that
something is lacking. He says the following: “My
fundamental conviction, which I herewith repeat, is: As far
as cognition, as far as mental activity is concerned, our
time is far ahead of the times.”
[ Note 3 ]
A curious
expression — what does he mean? He says nothing about
the fact that thoughts have become blunted; he is only aware
that today's intellectuals are clever in the sense that they
can produce abstract ideas like clockwork, and are so sure of
their judgments because of the transparency of their abstract
ideas. That is why he says that “as far as cognition,
as mental activity is concerned, our time is far ahead of the
times.” In other words, people are very capable of
producing thoughts, but these thoughts are of the kind I have
described, quite unrelated to reality. Thus one could also
say: Our time is far behind the times. Scheu goes on to say:
“As knowers we have become decadent, our thoughts are
too rarefied.” That is certainly true of modern man. We
need only look at our literature or observe everyday life.
Just think of all the intricate thoughts people spin out, but
thoughts that are quite incapable of penetrating reality.
Hence Scheu is right when he says: “As knowers we have
become decadent, our thoughts are too rarefied, too
translucent; we are still dominated by the Middle Ages. The
reason is that the furnace in which thoughts ought to be
recast does not function.”
Scheu expresses
himself with feeling in a strange way, but what he says is
based on a true sense for what is lacking in our time. Indeed
the “furnace” does not function in which
thoughts, lost in nebulous abstraction, could become so
inwardly strengthened, that they become able to unite with
reality. He recognizes that thoughts have become abstract to
the point of decadence and that a great number of people have
poured our abstract ideas concerning socialism,
social-democracy and liberalism with marvelous logic,
especially in marxism. Combinations of such abstractions are
also possible such as national liberalism, social liberalism
and so on. We also have abstract ideas about conservatism. On
the basis of all these abstractions — abstract because
the furnace is missing that could transform them — one
builds up parliamentary systems, representative systems and
the network of ideas on which are based liberalism, social
liberalism, social democracy, conservatism, nationalism and
so on.
Robert Scheu
has done what from his point of view is not a bad thing; he
has attempted with the means at his disposal to replace the
abstractions with reality. Instead of the abstract ideas he
wants inquiries set up, maintaining that those who are
knowledgeable about an issue should be the ones to judge what
should be done about it. After all, whether one is a liberal
or conservative is of no great moment when it is a question
of organizing the sale of oil or arranging art galleries.
What matters in such instances is insight into oil
distribution or knowledge about art. Robert Scheu did in fact
arrange inquiries into various issues and saw to it that
people who made the inquiries spoke about them. A very
ingenious start.
He attempts to
decide where what he calls the “furnace” is, or
ought to be, located. He asks, “Should it be the
parliament, the congress? Or should one look for it in the
administration? And do the parties uphold the system of
representation?” He further points out that “the
system contains programs of fundamentally conflicting
interests; the parties do not grasp the real issues of life
to which they have a purely deductive approach. They are only
interested in what constitutes means for enhancing the power
of the party.”
Here is someone
who for once realizes that the rarefaction, the abstractness
of thought — one could also call it dullness,
obtuseness, for the thoughts have no contact with reality
— have a direct effect on life. He links this problem
with the problems of development in social conditions,
whether under the system of representation or any other form
of government. He is fully aware that no, solution is
possible by treating the problems in the old manner. He
ponders the possibility of discovering from life itself what
could bring order into the structure of-social life; he has
in fact done much in this direction. What is interesting is
that he now looks back at his efforts and asks himself,
“What did I actually attempt to achieve?” What he
tried to do was to penetrate to the reality of the issues.
However, he expresses this in today's abstract terminology by
saying, “I replaced deduction with induction.”
These kinds of expressions one meets with everywhere. But
Robert Scheu is not altogether satisfied with the result of
this endeavour; that is why at the end of the article in
which he presents the whole story he says, “I have come
to the conclusion that my inductive approach to cultural and
political life needs to be completed by a deductive approach.
I realize the problem is like a tunnel that must be excavated
from both ends if a breakthrough is to be achieved. The
mental work necessary must be a joint effort of all Europeans
of good will.”
So you see that
Robert Scheu comes to recognize that the problem must be
approached from two sides. What he does not
recognize is the source from which concepts and ideas, allied
with reality, must be drawn. He comes to a standstill and
does not really believe in his so-called inductive approach
via all kinds of inquiries. In any case, to make inquiries is
to approach reality from one side only. The approach to the
other, the spiritual side, would be the search for the
spiritual aspect by means of spiritual knowledge.
Everyday
practical life demands spiritual science. This is not
suggesting anything out of the way or difficult; rather, it
is a thought that essentially belongs to this very moment in
mankind's evolution. Just imagine how fruitful spiritual
science could be if people would overcome the prejudices
which blind them to its reality. Without spiritual knowledge
one only arrives at absurdities which deteriorate into all
kinds of ridiculous situations. This becomes very obvious
when one lives within the mobile concepts of spiritual
science. Robert Scheu, for example, wants inquiries set up
into the various branches of social life; he wants people who
are knowledgeable to speak on the issues. One such issue he
wants altered through an inquiry is the system of
registration of domicile; just imagine what that would mean
at the present time.
However, he
does represent a striking example of the fact that people are
beginning to feel that something is lacking, but cannot make
the decision to turn to what is necessary. Yet I have always
tried from the beginning to prevent spiritual science from
becoming abstruse and sectarian. I have tried to let it flow
into life in response to human requirements. Whenever my
advice was sought I tried to give it in accordance with each
person's individual need. It must be said, though, that the
present materialistic way of life creates huge difficulties
in applying such advice. It is understandable that a
manufacturer would find it strange if told that science of
the spirit could help him run his business better. Yet one
could hope that it would work at some point.
A man came to
me some years ago who said he wanted his scientific work to
be enhanced by spiritual science. We spoke about his
scientific work. He was wonderfully erudite; he had really
mastered Babylonian and Egyptian archeology to a remarkable
degree. I tried to work out with him where the threads could
be attached to today's knowledge which would allow spiritual
science to flow into his endeavors, so that at least a part
of his science could be fructified by spiritual science. He
had what modern science can say about the subject; from us he
found what spiritual science can reveal about it. He had both
— but he could not bring forth the will to penetrate
and illumine the one with the other.
If one does not
develop this will, one will never understand what is actually
intended with spiritual science. One will rather be inclined
to make the science of the spirit into merely one more
doubtful mysticism so beloved by those who belittle earthly
life. There are those who have the view that this life is
worth nothing; one must rise to a higher life. One must rise
from this world of the senses into a reverie — then a
higher life will arise. Why bring up one's children properly
here when one can rather think about one's prior
incarnations? That brings one into the higher regions and so
forth. That is not what is at stake here. What is essential
is that, in the area where one stands, one can make science
of the spirit fruitful. It can be made fruitful everywhere.
Life demands it.
One would wish
to have something more than words today to make that
comprehensible. Who feels today what lies in words? Who
really feels into words? Feeling with words — that is
something that humanity has almost lost, at least in that
portion of humanity to which we belong. Let me use an example.
[ Footnote A ]
When someone says, “You did your job pretty well”
(ziemlich gut), who feels much more today at these words than
“You almost did your job well” (fast
gut)? “Pretty” (ziemlich) is “almost”
(fast). We say one instead of the other. Place your hand on
your heart and say you don't feel “almost” when
someone says “pretty” (ziemlich) in that way! But
“pretty” (ziemlich) is a word which has referred
to activities and products which were done properly or
decently (geziemend). Who feels anymore the
“proper” (geziemend) in the “pretty”
(ziemlich) in this case?
Or, who feels
in the word “Zweifel” (doubt) the fact that it
carries the “Zwei” (two), that one stands before
something which divides into two? Who feels indeed the
“zw, z-w”?
[ Footnote B ]
But wherever the “zw” appears, you have the same
sensation as in doubting (Zweifel), which divides the things
in two. “Zwischen” (between) — there you
have the same! “Zweck” (goal),
“Zweifel” (doubt), “zwar” (indeed)
— try to feel it! Feeling can lie in all speech
relations. But our words have today become an exceedingly
worthless currency. Therefore one would really like to have
something other than language to give a penetrating
impression of what is necessary for today and what spiritual
science could give. The way speech is used today deadens
thinking even more than is happening anyway as an effect of
natural evolution. The result is a chaos of obtuse thoughts
written and printed everywhere.
One could sweat
blood, as almost happened to me this morning when I picked up
a book by Dr. Johann Plenge, professor of political science
at the University of Munster in Westphalia.
[ Note 4 ]
This man claims to have
unraveled a great contradiction which developed between the
ideas of 1789 and 1914. He regards himself as an extremely
important fellow, but let that pass. On page 61 of his book
one comes across an astonishing sentence. I shall now be
somewhat pedantic, but the pedantry refers to something
subtle, and those who can feel it, will do so. The sentence
on page 61 slugged me — excuse the expression. It says:
“Imagine you were a future historian who one day hears
about the world catastrophe of 1914.” What is one to
make of a sentence like that? He imagines a future historian
who suddenly hears about the world war of 1914. So during his
whole youth he has never heard of it, but only does so quite
by chance when he is a writer of history! One really can no
longer be living within living images to be able to produce
something like that. He tried to characterize the nature and
significance of ideas. He points to ideas that run through
mankind's history, saying that ideas can emerge and again
withdraw. In this way he attempts to discover the essence of
ideas. He tries to show how ideas unconsciously emerge in
primitive races and gradually become more conscious. During
his attempts he comes up with the following: “A
civilized nation in the making lives according to the example
of an imagined ennobled humanity. The position of Homer in
antiquity is the best example of such a formation of an
idea-complex.”
So, the
position of Homer in antiquity is an example of the formation
of ideas! One might just as well say that the role of a court
advisor is an example of how an idea-complex is formed. It is
impossible to think along with something like that if one
wants to connect living images with one's concepts. When one
is used to doing so from youth, sentences containing such
affectations in words are experienced like a slap in the
face. They remind me vividly of a professor who began a
course of lectures by raising 25 questions. He is a professor
of literature who has become very famous indeed. I shall not
name him, for you would not believe me. Having put his 25
questions he said: “Gentlemen, I have placed before you
a forest of question marks!” — So one had to
imagine a wood composed of rows of question marks. Ask
yourselves what sort of thinking it is when thoughts remain
unrelated to reality, when a person does not live in his
thoughts, and they result in nothing but verbiage.
This is a
situation that is not uncommon; one comes across the
strangest assertions. Plenge, for example, says, “Like
the astronomer, so the true historian is able to forecast
events.” And then the good fellow proceeds to show how
things developed in the period leading up to the catastrophe
of the present war. Since he regards himself as a truly great
historian, he should be well able to forecast such a
catastrophe, but though he has written several books on
external affairs, he has not done so. This troubles him; he
therefore explains how he has done it after all. And how has
he done it? He says, “Well, I have shown that because
of the way things were developing one had to strive for peace
with all one's strength and power; then I have shown that, as
things were, only the war could come.” No one can deny
that to be an accurate prophecy! It is comparable to my
having two coats and saying, Provided I will not wear this
one tomorrow, I shall be wearing the other one. And he
continues in the same vein, for when he speaks about how he
faltered between forecasting peace or war he says — or
rather he quotes himself (quotations are a peculiar feature
throughout the book), “To make such a forecast one must
let one's fantasy play with the idea of war.” What a
sentiment! To suggest that one should indulge in fantasy of
war in the years leading up to the present catastrophe
reveals an attitude of incredible irresponsibility.
As I said,
quotations are a peculiar feature of this book by Plenge. The
book is associated throughout with an article that appeared
in a daily newspaper. The article is quite inoffensive,
written by an unknown journalist who rebels against Plenge's
“discovery” of the way ideas had changed by 1914.
What makes the composition of Plenge's book peculiar is that
on the first page one finds the newspaper article reproduced,
or as much of it as Plenge found suitable for his purpose. He
speaks about the article, quoting it again on page 21. So the
article has now been read twice. He then continues and quotes
part of it for a third time. Towards the end of the book,
having quoted the article three times, he does so once again,
So you have a book with a newspaper article quoted four
times.
I chose such
concrete examples in order to make clear how things really
are and to show also what is necessary. I want to demonstrate
that science of the spirit is what is needed, what must
intervene in present affairs. The things I have spoken about
may seem like trifles; nonetheless they are closely connected
with the great issues with which we started our
considerations. This I ask you to bear in mind during these
lectures.
Translator's Notes:
Note A. This
portion of Steiner's lecture used characteristics of
German words unique within that language for those
examples. An analogous substitution of the word
“pretty” for “ziemlich” has been
used in the following rendering for the English reader.
The analogy is not direct, since “pretty” and
“ziemlich” have diverging semantic roles and
heritages; it is nevertheless imperfectly useful in
grasping the speaker's train of thought.
Note B.
Pronounced as one would pronounce the letters
“ts-v” in English. This sound has not carried
over into English, although a similar combination of
letters, today unpronounced, remains in the word
“two” (German dialect “zwo” =
“zwei” = “two”).
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