LECTURE ELEVEN
Dornach,
24 February 1922
The
turning-point, between the fourth and fifth post-Atlantean periods,
[ Note 1 ]
which falls in the fifteenth century, is very much more
significant for human evolution than is recognized by external
history, even today. There is no awareness of the tremendous change
which took place at that time in the condition of human souls. We can
say that profound traces of what took place at that time for mankind
as a whole became deeply embedded in the consciousness of the best
spirits. These traces remained for a long time and are indeed still
there today. That something so important can take place without at
first being much noticed externally is shown by another example
— that of Christianity itself.
During
the course of almost two thousand years, Christianity has wrought
tremendous transformation on the civilized world. Yet, a century
after the Mystery of Golgotha, it meant little, even to the greatest
spirits of the leading culture of the time — that of Rome. It
was still seen as a minor event of little significance that had taken
place out there in Asia, on the periphery of the Empire. Similarly,
what took place in the civilized world around the first third of the
fifteenth century has been little noted in external, recorded
history. Yet it has left deep traces in human striving and
endeavour.
We spoke
about some aspects recently. For instance, we saw that Calderón's
[ Note 2 ]
drama about the magician Cyprianus shows
how this spiritual change was experienced in Spain. Now it is
becoming obvious — though it is not expressed in the way
Anthroposophy has to express it — that in all sorts of places
at this point in human evolution there is a more vital sense for the
need to gain greater clarity of soul about this change. I have also
pointed out that Goethe's
Faust
is one of the endeavours, one
of the human struggles, to gain clarity about it. More light can
perhaps be thrown on this Faust of Goethe when it is seen in a wider
cultural context. But first let us look at Faust himself as an
isolated individual.
First of
all in his youthful endeavours, stimulated of course by the cultural
situation in Europe at that time, Goethe came to depict in dramatic
form the striving of human beings in the newly dawning age of the
intellect. From the way in which he came across the medieval Faust
figure in a popular play or something similar, he came to see him as
a representative of all those seeking personalities who lived at that
time. Faust belongs to the sixteenth, not the fifteenth century,
[ Note 3 ]
but of course the spiritual change did not take place in
the space of only a year or even a century. It came about gradually
over centuries. So the Faust figure came towards Goethe like a
personality living in the midst of this seeking and striving that had
come from earlier times and would go on into later centuries. We can
see that the special nature of this seeking and striving, as it
changed from the fourth to the fifth post-Atlantean period, is
perfectly clear to Goethe. First he presents Faust as the scholar who
is familiar with all four academic faculties. All four faculties have
worked on his soul, so that he has taken into his soul the impulses
which derive from intellectualism, from intellectualistic science. At
the same time he senses how unsatisfying it is for human beings to
remain stuck in one-sided intellectualism. As you know, Faust turns
away from this intellectualism and, in his own way, towards the
practice of magic. Let us be clear about what is meant in this case.
What he has gone through by way of ‘Philosophy and
Jurisprudence, Medicine and even, alas, Theology,’
[ Note 4 ]
is what anyone can go through by studying the intellectualized
sciences. It leaves a feeling of dissatisfaction. It leaves behind
this feeling of dissatisfaction because anything abstract — and
abstraction is the language of these sciences — makes demands
only on a part of the human being, the head part, while all the rest
is left out of account.
Compare
this with what it was like in earlier times. The fact that things
were different in earlier times is habitually overlooked. In those
earlier times the people who wanted to push forward to a knowledge of
life and the world did not turn to intellectual concepts. All their
efforts were concentrated on seeing spiritual realities, spiritual
beings, behind the sense-perceptible objects of their environment.
This is what people find so difficult to understand. In the tenth,
eleventh, twelfth centuries those who strove for knowledge did not
only seek intellectual concepts, they sought spiritual beings and
realities, in accordance with what can be perceived behind
sense-perceptible phenomena and not in accordance with what can be
merely thought about sense-perceptible phenomena.
This is
what constitutes that great spiritual change. What people sought in
earlier times was banished to the realm of superstition, and the
inclination to seek for real spiritual beings was lost. Instead,
intellectual concepts came to be the only acceptable thing, the only
really scientific knowledge. But no matter how logically people told
themselves that the only concepts and ideas free of any superstition
are those which the intellect forms on the basis of sense-perceptible
reality, nevertheless these concepts and ideas failed, in the long
run, to satisfy the human being as a whole, and especially the human
heart and soul. In this way Goethe's Faust finds himself to be so
dissatisfied with the intellectual knowledge he possesses that he
turns back to what he remembers of the realm of magic.
This was
a true and genuine mood of soul in Goethe. He, too, had explored the
sciences at the University of Leipzig. Turning away from the
intellectualism he met in Leipzig, he started to explore what in
Faust
he later called ‘magic’, for instance,
together with Susanne von Klettenberg and also by studying the
relevant books. Not until he met Herder
[ Note 5 ]
in Strasbourg
did he discover a real deepening of vision. In him he found a spirit
who was equally averse to intellectualism. Herder was certainly not
an intellectual; hence his anti-Kant attitude. He led Goethe beyond
what — in a genuinely Faustian mood — he had been
endeavouring to discover in connection with ancient magic.
Thus
Goethe looked at this Faust of the sixteenth century, or rather at
that scholar of the fifteenth century who was growing beyond magic,
even though he was still half-immersed in it. Goethe wanted to depict
his own deepest inner search, a search which was in him because the
traces of the spiritual change from the fourth to the fifth
post-Atlantean period were still working in him.
It is one
of the most interesting phenomena of recent cultural evolution that
Goethe, who wanted to give expression to his own youthful striving,
should turn to that professor from the fifteenth and sixteenth
century. In the figure of this professor he depicted his own inner
soul life and experience. Du Bois-Reymond,
[ Note 6 ]
of course, totally misunderstood both what lived in Goethe and what lived
in the great change that took place in the fifteenth and sixteenth
centuries, when he said: Goethe made a big mistake in depicting Faust
as he did; he should have done it quite differently. It is right that
Faust should be dissatisfied with what tradition had to offer him;
but if Goethe had depicted him properly he would have shown, after the
early scenes, how he first made an honest woman of Gretchen by
marrying her, and then became a well-known professor who went on to
invent the electro-static machine and the air pump. This is what Du
Bois-Reymond thought should have become of Faust.
Well,
Goethe did not let this happen to Faust, and I am not sure whether it
would have been any more interesting if he had done what Du
Bois-Reymond thought he should have done. But as it is, Goethe's
Faust is one of the most interesting phenomena of recent cultural
history because Goethe felt the urge to let this professor from the
fifteenth and sixteenth centuries stand as the representative of what
still vibrated in his own being as an echo of that spiritual change
which came about during the transition from the fourth to the fifth
post-Atlantean period.
The
sixteenth century Faust — that is the legendary Faust, not the
one who ought to have become the inventor of the electro-static
machine and the air pump — takes up magic and perishes, goes to
the devil. We know that this sixteenth century Faust could not be
seen by either Lessing or Goethe as the Faust of the eighteenth
century. Now it was necessary to endeavour to show that once again
there was a striving for the spirit and that man ought to find his
way to salvation, if I may use this expression.
Here, to
begin with, is Faust, the professor in the fifteenth and sixteenth
centuries. Goethe has depicted him strikingly well, for this is just
what such personalities were like at the universities of that time.
Of course, the Faust of legend would not have been suitable, for he
would have been more like a roaming vagabond gipsy. Goethe is
describing not the legendary Faust but the figure of a professor. Of
course, at the profoundest soul level he is an individual, a unique
personality. But Goethe does also depict him as a type, as a typical
professor of philosophy, or perhaps of medicine, of the fourteenth or
fifteenth century. On the one hand he stands in the midst of the
culture of his day, occupying himself with the intellectual sciences,
but on the other he is not unfamiliar with occult things, which in
Goethe's own day were considered nothing more than superstition.
Let us
now look at Goethe's Faust in a wider world context. We do make the
acquaintance of his famulus and Goethe shows us the relationship
between the two. We also meet a student — though judging by his
later development he does not seem to have been much influenced by
his professor. But apart from this, Goethe does not show us much of
the real influence exercised by Faust, in his deeper soul aspects, as
he might have taught as a professor in, say, Wittenberg. However,
there does exist a pupil of Faust who can lead us more profoundly
into this wider world context. There is a pupil of Faust who occupies
a place in the cultural history of mankind which is almost equal to
that of Professor Faust himself — I am speaking only of Faust
as Goethe portrayed him. And this pupil is none other than
Hamlet.
Hamlet
can indeed be seen as a genuine pupil of Faust. It is not a question
of the historical aspect of Faust as depicted by Goethe. The whole
action of the drama shows that although the cultural attitudes are
those of the eighteenth century, nevertheless Goethe's endeavour was
to place Faust in an earlier age. But from a certain point of view it
is definitely possible to say: Hamlet, who has studied at Wittenberg
and has brought home with him a certain mood of spirit — Hamlet
as depicted by Shakespeare,
[ Note 7 ]
can be seen in the context
of world spiritual history as a pupil of Faust. It may even be true
to say that Hamlet is a far more genuine pupil of Faust than are the
students depicted in Goethe's drama.
Consider
the whole character of Hamlet and combine this with the fact that he
studied in Wittenberg where he could easily have heard a professor
such as Faust. Consider the manner in which he is given his task. His
father's ghost appears to him. He is in contact with the real
spiritual world. He is really within it. But he has studied in
Wittenberg where he was such a good student that he has come to
regard the human brain as a book. You remember the scene when Hamlet
speaks of the ‘book and volume’ of his brain.
[ Note 8 ]
He has studied human sciences so thoroughly that he
speaks of writing what he wants to remember on the table of his
memory, almost as though he had known the phrase which Goethe would
use later when composing his Faust drama: ‘For what one has, in
black and white, one carries home and then goes through it.’
[ Note 9 ]
Hamlet is on the one hand an excellent student of the
intellectualism taught him at Wittenberg, but on the other hand he is
immersed in a spiritual reality. Both impulses work in his soul. The
whole of the Hamlet drama stands under the influence of these two
impulses. Hamlet — both the drama and the character —
stands under the influence of these impulses because, when it comes
down to it, the writer of
Hamlet
does not really know how to
combine the spiritual world with the intellectual mood of soul.
Poetic works which contain characteristics that are so deeply rooted
in life provide rich opportunities for discussion. That is why so
many books are written about such works, books which do not really
make much sense because there is no need for them to make sense. The
commentators are constantly concerned with what they consider to be a
most important question: Is the ghost in
Hamlet
merely a
picture, or does it have objective significance? What can be
concluded from the fact that only Hamlet, and not the others
characters present on the stage, can see the ghost? Think of all the
learned and interesting things that have been written about this! But
of course none of it is connected with what concerned the poet who wrote
Hamlet.
He belonged to the sixteenth and seventeenth
centuries. And writing out of the life of that time he could do no
other than approach these things in a way which cannot be fixed in
abstract concepts. That is why I say that it is not necessary to make
any sense of all the various commentaries. We are talking about a
time of transition. Earlier, it was quite clear that spiritual beings
were as real as tables and chairs, or as a dog or a cat. Although
Calderon lived even later than Shakespeare, he still held to this
older view. It would not have occurred to him even to hint that the
spiritual beings in his works might be merely subjective in
character. Because his whole soul was still open to spiritual
insight, he portrayed anything spiritual as something just as
concrete as dogs and cats.
Shakespeare, whose mood of soul belonged fully to the time of
transition, did not feel the need to handle the matter in any other
way than that which stated: It might be like this or it might
be like that. There is no longer a clear distinction between
whether the spiritual beings are subjective or objective. This is a
question which is just as irrelevant for a higher world view as it
would be to ask in real life — not in astronomy, of course
— where to draw the line between day and night. The question as
to whether one is subjective and the other objective becomes
irrelevant as soon as we recognize the objectivity of the inner world
of man and the subjectivity of the external world. In
Hamlet
and also, say, in
Macbeth,
Shakespeare maintains a living
suspension between the two. So we see that Shakespeare's dramas are
drawn from the transition between the fourth and fifth post-Atlantean
periods.
The
expression of this is clearest in
Hamlet.
It may not be historical but it is none the less true to suggest that
perhaps Hamlet was at Wittenberg just at the time when Faust was
lecturing not so much about the occult as about the intellectual
sciences — from what we said earlier you now know what I mean.
Perhaps he was at Wittenberg before Faust admitted to himself that,
‘straight or crosswise, wrong or right’, he had been
leading his scholars by the nose these ten years long. Perhaps Hamlet
had been at Wittenberg during those very ten years, among those whom
Faust had been leading by the nose. We can be sure that during those
ten years Faust was not sure of where he stood. So having taken all
this in from a soul that was itself uncertain, Hamlet returns and is
faced on the one hand with what remains from an earlier age and what
he himself can still perceive, and on the other with a human attitude
which simply drives the spirits away. Just as ghosts flee before the
light, so does the perception of spiritual beings flee before
intellectualism. Spiritual vision cannot tolerate intellectualism
because the outcome of it is a mood of soul in which the human being
is inwardly torn right away from any connection with the spirit. The
pallor of thoughts makes him ill in his inner being, and the
consequence of this is the soul mood characteristic of the time from
the eleventh to the fifteenth centuries and on into even later times.
Goethe, who was sensitive to all these things, also had a mood of
soul that reached back into this period. We ought to be clear about
this.
Take
Greek drama. It is unthinkable without the spiritual beings who stand
behind it. It is they who determine human destinies. Human beings are
woven into the fabric of destiny by the spiritual forces. This fabric
brings into ordinary life what human beings would otherwise only
experience if they were able consciously to go into the state of
sleep. The will impulses which human beings sleep through in their
daytime consciousness are brought into ordinary life. Greek destiny
is an insight into what man otherwise sleeps through. When the
ancient Greek brings his will to bear, when he acts, he is aware that
this is not only the working of his daytime consciousness with its
insipid thoughts. Because his whole being is at work, he knows that
what pulses through him when he sleeps is also at work. And out of
this awareness he gains a certain definite attitude to the question
of death, the question of immortality.
Now we
come to the period I have been describing, in which human beings no
longer had any awareness that something spiritual played in —
also in their will — while they slept. We come to the period in
which human beings thought their sleep was their own, though at the
same time they knew from tradition that they have some connection
with the spiritual world. Abstract concepts such as
‘Philosophy, Jurisprudence, Medicine, and even, alas!
Theology’ begin to take on a shadowy outline of what they will
become in modern times. They begin to appear, but at the same time
the earlier vision still plays in. This brings about a twilight
consciousness. People really did live in this twilight consciousness.
Such figures as Faust are, indeed, born out of a twilight
consciousness, out of a glance into the spiritual world which
resembles a looking over one's shoulder in a dream. Think of the mood
behind such words as ‘sleep’, or ‘dream’, in
Hamlet.
We can well say that when Hamlet speaks his monologues
he is simply speaking about what he senses to be the riddle of his
age; he is speaking not theoretically but out of what he actually
senses.
So,
spanning the centuries and yet connected in spirit, we see that
Shakespeare depicts the student and Goethe the professor. Goethe
depicted the professor simply because a few more centuries had passed
and it was therefore necessary in his time to go further back to the
source of what it was all about. Something lived in the consciousness
of human beings, something that made the outstanding spirits say: I
must bring to expression this state of transition that exists in
human evolution.
It is
extremely interesting to expand on this world situation still
further, because out of it there arise a multitude of all-embracing
questions and riddles about life and the world. It is interesting to
note, for instance, that amongst the works of Shakespeare
Hamlet
is the one which depicts in its purest form a
personality belonging to the whole twilight condition of the
transition — especially in the monologues. The way Hamlet was
understood in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries could have led
to the question: Where was the stimulus for what exists in Hamlet's
soul? The answer points to Wittenberg, the Faust source. Similar
questions arise in connection with
Macbeth.
But in
King Lear
we move into the human realm. The question of the spiritual
world is not so much concerned with the earth as with the human being
— it enters into the human being and becomes a subjective state
of mind which leads to madness.
Then
Shakespeare's other dramas could also be considered. We could say:
What the poet learnt by taking these human characters and leading
them to the spiritual realm lives on in the historical dramas about
the kings. He does not follow this specific theme in the historical
dramas, but the indeterminate forces work on. Taking Shakespeare's
dramas all together, one gains the impression that they all culminate
in the age of Queen Elizabeth. Shakespeare wanted to depict something
that leads from the subconscious, bubbling forces of his people to
the intellectual clarity that has especially shone forth from that
corner of the civilized world since the age of Elizabeth. From this
point of view the whole world of Shakespeare's dramas appears —
not perhaps quite like a play with a satisfactory ending, but at
least like a drama which does lead to a fairly satisfying conclusion.
That is, it leads to a world which then continues to evolve. After
the transition had been going on for some time, the dramas lead
toShakespeare's immediate present, which is a world with which it is
possible to come to terms. This is the remarkable thing: The world of
Shakespeare's dramas culminates in the age in which Shakespeare
lived; this is an age with which it is possible to come to terms,
because from then on history takes a satisfactory course and runs on
into intellectualism. Intellectualism came from the part of the earth
out of which Shakespeare wrote; and he depicted this by ending up at
this point.
The
questions with which I am concerned find their answers when we follow
the lines which lead from the pupil Hamlet to the professor Faust,
and then ask how it was with Goethe at the time when, out of his
inner struggles, he came to the figure of Faust. You see, he also
wrote
Götz von Berlichingen.
In
Götz von Berlichingen,
again taken from folk myth, there is a similar
confrontation. On the one side you have the old forces of the
pre-intellectual age, the old German empire, which cannot be compared
with what became the later German empire. You have the knights and
the peasants belonging to the pre-intellectual age when the pallor of
thoughts did not make human beings ill; when indeed very little was
guided from the head, but when the hands were used to such an extent
that even an iron hand was needed. Goethe refers back to something
that once lived in more recent civilization but which, by its very
nature, had its roots in the fourth post-Atlantean period. Over
against all this you have in the figure of Weislingen the new element
which is developing, the age of intellectualism, which is intimately
linked to the way the German princes and their principalities
evolved, a development which led eventually to the later situation in
Central Europe right up to the present catastrophe.
We see that in
Götz von Berlichingen
Goethe is attacking this
system of princes and looking back to times which preceded the age of
intellectualism. He takes the side of the old and rebels against what
has taken its place, especially in Central Europe. It is as though
Goethe were saying in
Götz von Berlichingen
that intellectualism has seized hold of Central Europe too. But here it
appears as something that is out of place. It would not have occurred
to Goethe to negate Shakespeare. We know how positive was Goethe's
attitude to Shakespeare. It would not have occurred to him to find
fault with Shakespeare, because his work led to a satisfying
culmination which could be allowed to stand. On the contrary, he
found this extraordinarily satisfying.
But the
way in which intellectualism developed in his own environment made
Goethe depict its existence as something unjustified, whereas he
spiritually embraced the political element of what was expressed in
the French Revolution. In
Götz von Berlichingen
Goethe is the spiritual revolutionary who denies the spirit in the same
way as the French Revolution denies the political element. Goethe turns
back in a certain way to something that has once been, though he certainly
cannot wish that it should return in its old form. He wants it to
develop in a different direction. It is most interesting to observe
this mood in Goethe, this mood of revolt against what has come to
replace the world of Götz.
So it is
extremely interesting to find that Shakespeare has been so deeply
grasped by Lessing and by Goethe and that they really followed on
from Shakespeare in seeking what they wanted to find through their
mood of spiritual revolt. Yet where intellectualism has become
particularly deeply entrenched, for instance in Voltaire,
[ Note 10 ]
it mounts a most virulent attack on Shakespeare. We
know that Voltaire called Shakespeare a wild drunkard. All these
things have to be taken into account.
Now add
something else to the great question which is so important for an
understanding of the spiritual revolution which took place in the
transition from the fourth to the fifth post-Atlantean period. Add to
all this the extraordinary part which Schiller played in this
spiritual revolution which in Goethe is expressed in a Goethean way in
Götz von Berlichingen.
In the circle closest of all to
Schiller he first met what he had to revolt against. It came out of
the most one-sided, unhealthy intellectualism. There was of course as
yet no Waldorf school
[ Note 11 ]
to do battle against one-sided
intellectualism. So Schiller could not be sent to the Waldorf school
in Wurttemberg but had to go to the Karlsschule instead. All
the protest which Schiller built up during his youth grew out of his
protest against the education he received at the Karlsschule.
This kind of education — Schiller wrote his drama
Die Räuber (The Robbers)
against it — is now universally accepted, and
no positive, really productive opposition to it has ever been mounted
until the recent foundation of the Waldorf school.
So what
is the position of Schiller — who later stood beside Goethe in
all this? He writes
Die Räuber (The Robbers).
It is perfectly obvious
to those who can judge such things that in Spiegelberg and the other
characters he has portrayed his fellow pupils. Franz Moor himself
could not so easily be derived from his schoolmates, but in Franz
Moor he has shown in an ahrimanic form
[ Note 12 ]
everything that
his genius can grasp of what lives in his time. If you know how to
look at these things, you can see how Schiller does not depict
spiritual beings externally, in the way they appear in
Hamlet
or
Macbeth,
but that he allows the ahrimanic principle to work in Franz Moor.
And opposite this is the luciferic principle in Karl Moor. In
Franz Moor we see a representative of all that Schiller is rebelling
against. It is the same world against which Goethe is rebelling in
Götz von Berlichingen,
only Schiller sets
about it in a different way. We see this too in the later drama
Kabale and Liebe (Love and Intrigue).
So you
see that here in Central Europe these spirits, Goethe and Schiller,
do not depict something in the way Shakespeare does. They do not
allow events to lead to something with which one can come to terms.
They depict something which is there but which in their opinion ought
to have developed quite differently. What they really want does not
exist, and what is there on the physical plane is something which
they oppose in a spiritual revolution. So we have a strange interplay
between what exists on the physical plane and what lives in these
spirits.
In a
rather bold way I could draw it like this: In Shakespeare the events
he depicts carry on in keeping with the way things are on earth
(blue).
What he takes in from earlier times, in which the spirit still worked,
goes over (red) into a present time which then becomes a factual world
evolution.
Then
we see in Goethe and Schiller that they had inklings of an earlier time
(red) when the spiritual world was still powerful, in the fourth
post-Atlantean period, and that they bring this only as far as their
spiritual intentions, whereas they see what is taking place on earth
(blue) as being in conflict with it. One thing plays into the other
in the human struggle for the spirit. This is why here in Central
Europe the question became a purely human one. In the time of Goethe
and Schiller a tremendous revolution occurred in the concept of man
as a being who stands within a social context. I shall be able to
expand on this in the coming lectures.
Let us
now look towards the eastern part of Europe. But we cannot look in
that direction in the same way. Those who only describe external
facts and have no understanding for what lives in the souls of Goethe
and Schiller — and also of course many others — may
describe these facts very well, but they will fail to include what
plays in from a spiritual world — which is certainly also
there, although it may be present only in the heads of human beings.
In France the battle takes place on the physical earth, in a
political revolution. In Germany the battle does not come down as far
as the physical plane. It comes down as far as human souls and
trembles and vibrates there. But we cannot continue this
consideration in the same way with regard to the East, for things are
different there. If we want to pursue the matter with regard to the
East we need to call on the assistance of Anthroposophy. For what
takes place in the souls of Goethe and Schiller, which are, after
all, here on the earth — what, in them, blows through earthly
souls is, in the East, still in the spiritual world and finds no
expression whatsoever down on the earth.
If you
want to describe what took place between Goethe's and Schiller's
spirits in the physical world — if you want to describe this
with regard to the East, then you will have to employ a different
view, such as that used in the days of Attila when battles were
fought by spirits in the air above the heads of human beings.
What you
find being carried out in Europe by Goethe and Schiller —
Schiller by writing
Die Räuber (The Robbers)
and Goethe by writing
Götz von Berlichingen
— you will find in the East
to be taking place as a spiritual fact in the spiritual world above
the physical plane. If you want to seek deeds which parallel the
writing of
Die Räuber (The Robbers)
and the writing of Götz, you
will have to seek them among the spiritual beings of the
super-sensible world. There is no point in searching for them on the
physical plane. In a diagram depicting what happens in the East you
would have to draw the element in question like a cloud floating
above the physical plane, while down below, untouched by it, would be
what shows externally on the physical plane.
Now we
know that, because we have Hamlet, we can tell how a western human
being who had been a pupil of Faust would have behaved, and
could have behaved. But there can be no such thing as a Russian
Hamlet. Or can there? We could see a Russian Hamlet with our
spiritual eyes if we were to imagine the following: Faust lectures at
Wittenberg — I mean not the historical Faust but Goethe's Faust
who is actually more true than historical fact. Faust lectures at
Wittenberg — and Hamlet listens, writing everything down, just
as he does even what the ghost says to him about the villains who
live in Denmark. He writes everything down in the book and volume of
his brain — Shakespeare created a true pupil of Faust out of
what he found in the work of Saxo Grammaticus,
[ Note 13 ]
which depicts things quite differently. Now imagine that an angel being
also listened to Faust as he lectured — Hamlet sat on the
university bench, Faust stood on the platform, and at the back of the
lecture hall an angel listened. And this angel then flew to the East
and there brought about what could have taken place as a parallel to
the deeds of Hamlet in the West.
I do not
believe that it is possible to reach a truly penetrating
comprehension of these things by solely taking account of external
facts. One cannot ignore the very profound impression made, by these
external facts, particularly on the greatest personalities of the
time, when what is taking place is something as incisive as the
spiritual revolution which took place between the fourth and fifth
post-Atlantean periods.
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