LECTURE II
Arnheim, 18th July, 1924.
In
this course of lectures I want in the first place to speak
about the way in which the art of education can be furthered
and enriched by an understanding of man. I shall therefore
approach the subject in the way I indicated in my
introductory lecture, when I tried to show how
anthroposophy can be a practical help in gaining a true
knowledge of man, not merely a knowledge of the child, but a
knowledge of the whole human being. I showed how anthroposophy,
just because it has an all-embracing knowledge of the whole
human being — that is to say a knowledge of the whole of
human life from birth to death, in so far as this takes place
on earth — how just because of this it can point out in a
right way what is essential for the education and instruction
of the child.
It
is very easy to think that a child can be educated and taught
if one observes only what takes place in childhood and youth;
but this is not enough. On the contrary, just as with the
plant, if you introduce some substance into the growing shoot
its effect will be shown in the blossom or the fruit, so it is
with human life. The effect of what is implanted into the child
in his earliest years, or is drawn out of him during those
years, will sometimes appear in the latest years of life; and
often it is not realised that, when at about the age of 50
someone develops an illness or infirmity, the cause lies in a
wrong education or a wrong method of teaching in the 7th or 8th
year. What one usually does today is to study the child —
even if this is done in a less external way than I described
yesterday — in order to discover how best to help him.
This is not enough. So today I should like to lay certain
foundations, on the basis of which I shall proceed to show how
the whole of human life can be observed by means of spiritual
science.
I
said yesterday that man should be observed as a being
consisting of body, soul and spirit, and in yesterday's public
lecture I gave some indication of how it is the super-sensible
in man, the higher man within man, that is enduring, that
continues from birth until death, while the substances of the
external physical body are always changing. It is therefore
essential to learn to know human life in such a way that one
perceives what is taking place on earth as a development of the
pre-earthly life. We have not only those soul qualities within
us that had their beginning at birth or at conception, but we
bear within us pre-earthly qualities of soul, indeed, we bear
within us the results of past earthly lives. All this lives and
works and weaves within us, and during earthly life we have to
prepare what will then pass through the gate of death and live
again after death beyond the earth, in the world of soul and
spirit. We must therefore understand how the super-earthly
works into earthly life, for it is also present between birth
and death. It works, only in a hidden way, in what is of a
bodily nature, and one does not understand the body if one has
no understanding of the spiritual forces active within it.
Let
us now proceed to study further what I have just indicated. We
can do so by taking concrete examples. An approach to the
knowledge of man is contained in anthroposophical literature,
for instance in my book
Theosophy,
in
An Outline Of Occult Science
or in
Knowledge of the Higher Worlds.
Let us start from what can lead to a real, concrete knowledge
of man by taking as a foundation what anthroposophy has to say
in general about man and the world. There are two examples
which I should like to put before you, two personalities who
are certainly well known to you all. I choose them because for
many years I made an intensive study of both of them. I am
taking two men of genius; later on we shall come down to less
gifted personalities. We shall then see that anthroposophy does
not only speak in a general, abstract way, but is able to
penetrate deeply into real human beings and is able to get to
know them in such a way that knowledge of man is shown to be
something which has reality in practical life. In choosing
these two examples, Goethe and Schiller, and so making an
indirect approach, I hope to show how a knowledge of man is
acquired under the influence of Spiritual Science.
Let
us look at Goethe and Schiller from an outward point of view,
as they appeared during the course of their lives, but let us
in each case study the whole personality. In Goethe we have an
individuality who entered life in a remarkable way. He was born
black, or rather dark blue. This shows how extraordinarily
difficult it was for his soul-spiritual being to enter into
physical incarnation. But once this had taken place, once
Goethe had overcome the resistance of this physical body, he
was entirely within it. On the one hand it is hard to imagine a
more healthy nature than Goethe had as a boy. He was amazingly
healthy. He was so healthy that his teachers found him quite
difficult; but children who give no trouble are seldom those
who enjoy the best health in later life. On the other hand,
children who are rather a nuisance to their teachers are those
who accomplish more in later life because they have more
active, energetic natures. The understanding teacher will
therefore be quite glad when the children keep a sharp eye on
him. Goethe from his earliest childhood was very much inclined
to do this, even in the literal sense of the word. He peeped at
the fingers of someone playing the piano and then named one
finger “Thumbkin,” another
“Pointerkin,” and so on. But it was not only in
this sense that he kept a sharp eye on his teachers. Even in
his boyhood he was bright and wide-awake; and this at times
gave them trouble. Later on in Leipzig Goethe went through a
severe illness, but here we must bear in mind that certain hard
experiences and some sowing of wild oats were necessary in
order to bring about a lowering of his health to the point at
which he could be attacked by the illness which he suffered at
Leipzig. After this illness we see that Goethe throughout this
whole life is a man of robust health, but one who possesses at
the same time an extraordinary sensitivity. He reacts strongly
to impressions of all kinds, but does not allow them to take
hold of him and enter deeply into his organism. He does not
suffer from heart trouble when he is deeply moved by some
experience, but he feels any such experience intensely; and
this sensitivity of soul goes with him throughout life. He
suffers, but his suffering does not find expression in
physical illness. This shows that his bodily health was
exceptionally sound. Moreover, Goethe felt called upon to
exercise restraint in his way of looking at things. He did not
sink into a sort of hazy mysticism and say, as is so often
said: “O, it is not a question of paying heed to the
external physical form; that is of small importance. We must
turn our gaze to what is spiritual!” On the contrary, to
a man with Goethe's healthy outlook the spiritual and the
physical are one. And he alone can understand such a
personality who is able to behold the spiritual through
the image of the physical.
Goethe was tall when he sat, and short when he stood. When he
stood you could see that he had short legs.
[The German has the word Sitzgrösse
for this condition.]
This is an
especially important characteristic for the observer who is
able to regard man as a whole. Why had Goethe short legs? Short
legs are the cause of a certain kind of walk. Goethe took short
steps because the upper part of his body was heavy —
heavy and long — and he placed his foot firmly on the
ground. As teachers we must observe such things, so that we can
study them in the children. Why is it that a person has short
legs and a particularly big upper part of the body? It is the
outward sign that such a person is able to bring to harmonious
expression in the present earth life what he experienced in a
previous life on earth. In this respect also Goethe was
extraordinarily harmonious, for right into extreme old
age he was able to develop everything that lay in his karma.
Indeed he lived to be so old because he was able to bring to
fruition the potential gifts with which karma had endowed him.
After Goethe had left the physical body, this body was still so
beautiful that all who saw him in death were fulfilled with
wonder. One has the impression that Goethe had experienced to
the full his karmic potentialities; now nothing more is left,
and he must begin afresh when again he enters into an earthly
body under completely new conditions. All this is expressed in
the particular formation of such a body as Goethe's, for
the cause of what man brings with him as predisposition from an
earlier incarnation is revealed for the most part in the
formation of the head. Now Goethe from his youth up had a
wonderfully beautiful Apollo head, from which only harmonious
forces streamed down into his physical body. This body,
however, burdened by the weight of its upper part and with too
short legs was the cause of his special kind of walk which
lasted throughout his life. The whole man was a wonderfully
harmonious expression of karmic predisposition and karmic
fulfilment. Every detail of Goethe's life illustrates
this.
Such a personality, standing so harmoniously in life and
becoming so old, must inevitably have outstanding experiences
in his middle years. Goethe was born in 1749 and he died in
1832, so he lived to be 83 years old. He reached middle age,
therefore, at about his 41st year in 1790. If we take these
years between 1790 and 1800 we have the middle decade of his
life. In this decade, before 1800, Goethe did indeed experience
the most important events of his life. Before this time he was
not able to bring his philosophical and scientific ideas,
important as they were, to any very definite formulation. The
Metamorphosis of the Plants
was first published in 1790; everything connected with it belongs
to this decade 1790-1800. In 1790 Goethe was so far from completing
his Faust that he brought it out as a Fragment; he had no idea then
that he would ever finish it. It was in this decade that under the
influence of his friendship with Schiller he conceived the bold
idea of continuing his Faust. The great scenes, the Prologue in
Heaven among others, belong to this period. So in Goethe we
have to do with an exceptionally harmonious life; with a life
moreover that runs its quiet course, undisturbed by inner
conflict, devoted freely and contemplatively to the outer
world.
As
a contrast let us look at the life of Schiller. From the outset
Schiller is placed into a situation in life which shows a
continual disharmony between his life of soul and spirit and
his physical body. His head completely lacks the harmonious
formation which we find in Goethe. He is even ugly, ugly in a
way that does not hide his gifts, but nevertheless ugly. In
spite of this a strong personality is shown in the way he holds
himself, and this comes to expression in his features also,
particularly in the formation of the nose. Schiller is not
long-bodied; he has long legs. On the other hand everything
that lies between the head and the limbs, in the region of the
circulation and breathing is in his case definitely sick,
poorly developed from birth, and he suffers throughout his life
from cramps. To begin with there are long periods between the
attacks, but later they become almost incessant. They become
indeed so severe that he is unable to accept any invitation to
a meal; but has to make it a condition — as for instance
on one occasion when coming to Berlin — that he is
invited for the whole day, so that he may be able to choose a
time free from such pains. The cause of all this is an
imperfect development of the circulatory and breathing
systems.
The
question therefore arises: What lies karmically, coming
from a previous earthly life, in the case of a man who has to
suffer in this way from cramping pains? Such pains, when they
gain a hold in human life, point quite directly to a man's
karma. If, with a sense of earnest scientific
responsibility, one attempts to investigate these cramp
phenomena from the standpoint of spiritual science, one always
finds a definite karmic cause underlying them, the results of
deeds, thoughts and feelings coming from an earlier life on
earth. Now we have the man before us, and one of two things can
happen. Either everything goes as harmoniously as with Goethe,
so that one says to oneself: Here we have to do with Karma;
here everything appears as the result of Karma. Or the opposite
can also happen. Through special conditions which arise when a
man descends out of the spiritual world into the physical, he
comes into a situation in which he is not able fully to work
through the burden of his karma.
Man
comes down from the spiritual world with definite karmic
predispositions; he bears these within him. Let us assume that
A in the diagram represents a place, a definite point of
time in the life of a man when he should be able in some way to
realise, to fulfil his karma, but for some reason this does not
happen. Then the fulfilment of his karma is interrupted and a
certain time must pass when, as it were, his karma makes a
pause; it has to be postponed until the next life on earth. And
so it goes on. Again, at B there comes a place when he
should be able to fulfil something of his karma; but once more
he has to pause and again postpone this part of his karma until
his next incarnation. Now when someone is obliged to interrupt
his karma in this way pains of a cramping nature always make
their appearance in the course of life. Such a person is
unable fully to fashion and shape into his life what he always
bears within him. Here we have something which shows the true
character of spiritual science. It does not indulge in fantasy,
neither does it talk in vague, general terms about the four
members of man's being; physical body, etheric body, astral
body and ego. On the contrary, it penetrates into real life,
and is able to point out where the real spiritual causes lie
for certain external occurrences. It knows how man represents
himself in outer life. This knowledge is what true
spiritual science must be able to achieve.
I
was now faced with the question: In a life such as Schiller's,
how does karma work as the shaper of the whole of life if, as
in his case, conditions are such that karma cannot properly
operate, so that he has to make continual efforts to achieve
what he has the will to achieve? For Goethe it was really
comparatively easy to complete his great works. For Schiller
the act of creation is always very difficult. He has, as it
were, to attack his karma, and the way in which he goes to the
attack will only show its results in the following earthly
life. So one day I had to put to myself the following question:
What is the connection between such a life as Schiller's and
the more general conditions of life? If one sets about
answering such a question in a superficial way nothing of any
significance emerges, even with the help of the investigations
of spiritual science. Here one may not spin a web of fantasy;
one must observe. Nevertheless if one approaches straight away
the first object that presents itself for observation, one will
somehow go off on a side track. So I considered the question in
the following way: How does a life take its course when karmic
hindrances or other pre-earthly conditions are present?
I
then proceeded to study certain individuals in whom something
of this kind had already happened, and I will now give such an
example. I could give many similar examples, but I will take
one which I can describe quite exactly. I had an acquaintance,
a personality whom I knew very well indeed in his present
earthly life. I was able to establish that there were no
hindrances in his life connected with the fulfilment of karma,
but there were hindrances resulting from what had taken place
in his existence between death and a new birth, that is in his
super-sensible life between the last earthly life and the one in
which I learned to know him. So in this case there were not, as
with Schiller, hindrances preventing the fulfilment of karma,
but hindrances in the way of bringing down into the physical
body what he had experienced between death and a new birth in
the super-sensible world. In observing this man one could see
that he had experienced much of real significance between
death and a new birth, but was not able to give expression to
this in life. He had entered into karmic relationships with
other people and had incarnated at a time when it was not
possible fully to realise on earth what he had, as it were,
piled up as the content of his inner soul experience between
death and conception. And what were the physical manifestations
which appeared as the result of his not being able to realise
what had been present in him in the super-sensible world?
These showed themselves through the fact that this personality
was a stutterer; he had an impediment in his speech. And if one
now takes a further step and investigates the causes at work in
the soul which result in speech disturbances, then one
always finds that there is some hindrance preventing what was
experienced between death and a new birth in the super-sensible
world from being brought down through the body into the
physical world. Now the question arises: How do matters stand
in the case of such a personality who has very much in him
brought about through his previous karma, but who has it all
stored up in the existence between death and a new birth and,
because he cannot bring it down becomes a stutterer? What sort
of things are bound up with such a personality in his life here
on earth?
Again and again one could say to oneself: This man has in him
many great qualities that he has gained in pre-earthly life,
but he cannot bring them down to earth. He was quite able to
bring down what can be developed in the formation of the
physical body up to the time of the change of teeth; he could
even develop extremely well what takes place between the change
of teeth and puberty. He then became a personality with
outstanding literary and artistic ability, for he was able to
form and fashion what can be developed between puberty and the
30th year of life. Now, however, there arose a deep concern in
one versed in a true knowledge of man, a concern which may be
expressed in the following question: How will it be with this
personality when he enters his thirties and should then develop
to an ever increasing degree the spiritual or consciousness
soul in addition to the intellectual or mind soul? Anyone who
has knowledge of these things feels the deepest concern in such
a case, for he cannot think that the consciousness soul —
which needs for its unfolding everything that arises in the
head, perfect and complete — will be able to come to its
full development. For with this personality the fact that he
stuttered showed that not everything in the region of his head
was in proper order. Now apart from stuttering this man was as
sound as a bell, except that in addition to the stutter, (which
showed that not everything was in order in the head system) he
suffered from a squint. This again was a sign that he had not
been able to bring down into the present earthly life all that
he had absorbed in the super-sensible life between death and a
new birth. Now one day this man came to me and said: “I
have made up my mind to be operated on for my squint.” I
was not in a position to do more than say, “If I were
you, I should not have it done.” I did all I could to
dissuade him. I did not at that time see the whole situation as
clearly as I do today, for what I am telling you happened more
than 20 years ago. But I was greatly concerned about this
operation. Well, he did not follow my advice and the operation
took place. Now note what happened. Very soon after the
operation, which was extremely successful, as such operations
often are, he came to me in jubilant mood and said, “Now
I shall not squint any more.” He was just a little vain,
as many distinguished people often are. But I was very
troubled; and only a few days later the man died, having just
completed his 30th year. The doctors diagnosed typhoid, but it
was not typhoid, he died of meningitis.
There is no need for the spiritual investigator to become
heartless when he considers such a life; on the contrary his
human sympathy is deepened thereby. But at the same time he
sees through life and comprehends it in its manifold aspects
and relationships. He perceives that what was experienced
spiritually between death and a new birth cannot be brought
down into the present life and that this comes to expression in
physical defects. Unless the right kind of education can
intervene, which was not possible in this case, life
cannot be extended beyond certain definite limits. Please do
not believe that I am asserting that anybody who squints must
die at 30. Negative instances are never intended and it may
well be that something else enters karmically into life which
enables the person in question to live to a ripe old age. But
in the case we are considering there was cause for anxiety
because of the demands made on the head, which resulted in
squinting and stuttering, and the question arose: How can a man
with an organisation of this kind live beyond the 35th year? It
is at this point of time that one must look back on a person's
karma, and then you will see immediately that it in no way
followed that because somebody had a squint he must die at 30.
For if we take a man who has so prepared himself in pre-earthly
life that he has been able to absorb a great deal between death
and a new birth, but is unable to bring down what he has
received into physical life, and if we consider every aspect of
his karma, we find that this particular personality might
quite well have lived beyond the 35th year; but then, besides
all other conditions, he would have had to bear within him the
impulse leading to a spiritual conception of man and of the
world. For this man had a natural disposition for spiritual
things which one rarely meets; but in spite of this, because
strong spiritual impulses inherent in him from previous earth
lives were too one-sided, he could not approach the
spiritual.
I
assure you that I am in a position to speak about such a
matter. I was very friendly with this man and was therefore
well aware of the deep cleft that existed between my own
conception of the world and his. From the intellectual
standpoint we could understand one another very well; we
could be on excellent terms in other ways, but it was not
possible to speak to him about the things of the spirit. Thus
because with his 35th year it would have been necessary for him
to find his way to a spiritual life, if his potential gifts up
to this age were to be realised on earth, and because he was
not able to come to a spiritual life, he died when he did. It
is of course perfectly possible to stutter and have a squint
and yet continue one's life as an ordinary mortal. There is no
need to be afraid of things which must be stated at times if
one wishes to describe realities, and not waste one's breath in
mere phrases. Moreover from this example you can see how
observation, sharpened by spiritual insight, enables one to
look deeply into human life.
And
now let us return to Schiller. When we consider the life of
Schiller two things strike us above all others, for they are
quite remarkable. There exists an unfinished drama by Schiller,
a mere sketch, called the Malteser. We see from the
concept underlying this sketch that if Schiller had wished to
complete this drama, he could only have done so as an initiate,
as one who had experienced initiation. It could not have been
done otherwise. Up to a certain degree at least he possessed
the inner qualities necessary for initiation, but owing to
other conditions of his karma these qualities could not get
through; they were suppressed, cramped. There was a
cramping of his soul life too which can be seen in the
sketch of the Malteser. There are long powerful
sentences which never manage to get to the full stop. What is
in him cannot find its way out. Now it is interesting to
observe that with Goethe, too, we have such unfinished
sketches, but we see that in his case, whenever he left
something unfinished, he did so because he was too easy-going
to carry it further. He could have finished it. Only in extreme
old age, when a certain condition of sclerosis had set in would
this have been impossible for him. With Schiller however we
have another picture. An iron will is present in him when he
makes the effort to develop the Malteser but he cannot
do it. He only gets as far as a slight sketch. For this drama,
seen in its reality, contains what, since the time of the
Crusades, has been preserved in the way of all kinds of
occultism, mysticism, and initiation science. And Schiller sets
to work on such a drama, for the completion of which he would
have had to bear within him the experience of initiation. Truly
a life's destiny which is deeply moving for one who is able to
see behind these things and look into the real being of this
man. And from the time it became known that Schiller had in
mind to write a drama such as the Malteser there was a
tremendous increase in the opposition to him in Germany. He was
feared. People were afraid that in his drama he might betray
all kinds of occult secrets.
The
second work about which I wish to speak is the following.
Schiller is unable to finish the Malteser; he cannot
get on with it. He lets some time go by and writes all manner
of things which are certainly worthy of admiration, but which
can also be admired by so-called philistines. If he could have
completed the Malteser, it would have been a drama
calling for the attention of men with the most powerful and
vigorous minds. But he had to put it aside.
After a while he gets a new impulse which inspires his later
work. He cannot think any more about the Malteser, but
he begins to compose his Demetrius. This portrays a
remarkable problem of destiny, the story of the false Demetrius
who takes the place of another man. All the conflicting
destinies which enter into the story as though emerging out of
the most hidden causes, all the human emotions thereby aroused,
would have had to be brought into this drama, if it were to be
completed. Schiller sets to work on it with feverish activity.
It became generally known — and people were still more
afraid that things would be brought into the open which it was
to their interest to keep hidden from the rest of mankind for
some time yet.
And
now certain things take place in the life of Schiller which,
for anyone who understands them, cannot be accounted for on the
grounds of a normal illness. We have a remarkable picture of
this illness of Schiller's. Something tremendous happens
— tremendous not only in regard to its greatness, but in
regard to its shattering force. Schiller is taken ill while
writing his Demetrius. On his sick bed in raging fever
he continually repeats almost the whole of Demetrius. It
seems as though some alien power is at work in Schiller,
expressing itself through his body. There is of course no
ground for accusing anyone. But, in spite of everything that
has been written in this connection, one cannot do otherwise
than come to the conclusion, from the whole picture of the
illness, that in some way or another, even if in a quite occult
way, something contributed to the rapid termination of
Schiller's illness in his death. That people had some suspicion
of this may be gathered from the fact that
Goethe, who could do nothing, but suspected much, dared not
participate personally in any way during the last days of
Schiller's life, not even after his death, although he felt
this deeply. He dared not venture to make known the thoughts he
bore within him.
With these remarks I only want to point out that for anyone
able to see through such things Schiller was undoubtedly
pre-destined to create works of a high spiritual order, but on
account of inner and outer causes, inner and outer karmic
reasons, it was all held back, dammed up, as it were, within
him. I venture to say that for the spiritual investigator there
is nothing of greater interest than to set himself the problem
of studying what Schiller achieved in the last ten years of his
life, from the Aesthetic Letters onwards, and then to
follow the course of his life after death. A deep penetration
into Schiller's soul after death reveals manifold inspirations
coming to him from the spiritual world. Here we have the reason
why Schiller had to die in his middle forties. His condition of
cramp and his whole build, especially the ugly formation of his
head, made it impossible for him to bring down into the
physical body the content of his soul and spirit, deeply rooted
as this was in spiritual existence.
When we bear such things in mind we must admit that the study
of human life is deepened if we make use of what anthroposophy
can give. We learn to look right into human life. In bringing
these examples before you my sole purpose was to show how
through anthroposophy one learns to contemplate the life of
human beings. But let us now look at the matter as a whole. Can
we not deepen our feeling and understanding for everything that
is human simply by looking at a single human life in the way
that we have done? If at a certain definite moment of life one
can say to oneself: Thus it was with Schiller, thus with
Goethe; thus it was with another young man — as I have
told you — then, will not something be stirred in our
souls which will teach us to look upon every child in a deeper
way? Will not every human life become a sacred riddle to us?
Shall we not learn to contemplate every human life, every human
being, with much greater, much more inward attention? And can
we not, just because a knowledge of man has been inscribed in
this way into our souls, deepen within us a love of mankind?
Can we not with this human love, deepened by a study of man
which gives such profundity to the most inward, sacred riddle
of life — can we not, with this love, enter rightly upon
the task of education when life itself has become so sacred to
us? Will not the teacher's task be transformed from mere
ideological phrases or dream-like mysticism into a truly
priestly calling ready for its task when Divine Grace sends
human beings down into earthly life?
Everything depends on the development of such feelings. The
essential thing about anthroposophy is not mere theoretical
teaching, so that we know that man consists of physical body,
etheric body, astral body and ego; that there is a law of
karma, of reincarnation and so on. People can be very clever,
they can know everything; but they are not anthroposophists in
the true sense of the word when they only know these things in
an ordinary way, as they might know the content of a cookery
book. What matters is that the life of human souls is quickened
and deepened by the anthroposophical world conception and that
one then learns to work and act out of a soul-life thus
deepened and quickened.
This then is the first task to be undertaken in furthering an
education based on anthroposophy. From the outset one should
work in such a way that teachers and educators may become in
the deepest sense “knowers of men,” so that out of
their own conviction, as a result of observing human beings in
the right way, they approach the child with the love born out
of this kind of thinking. It follows therefore that in a
training course for teachers wishing to work in an
anthroposophical sense the first approach is not to say: you
should do it like this or like that, you should employ this or
that educational knack, but the first thing is to awaken a true
educational sense born out of a knowledge of man. If one has
been successful in bringing this to the point of awakening in
the teacher a real love of education then one can say that he
is now ready to begin his work as an educator.
In
education based on a knowledge of man, such for instance as the
Waldorf School education, the first thing to be considered is
not the imparting of rules, not the giving advice as to how one
should educate, but the first thing is to hold Training Courses
for Teachers in such a way that one finds the hearts of the
teachers and so deepens these hearts that love for the child
grows out of them. It is quite natural that every teacher
believes that he can, as it were, impose this love on himself,
but such an imposed human love can achieve nothing. Much
good will may be behind it, but it can achieve nothing. The
only human love which can achieve something is that which
arises out of a deepened observation of individual cases.
If
someone really wishes to develop an understanding of the
essential principles of education based on a knowledge of man
— whether he has already acquired a knowledge of
spiritual science or whether, as can also happen, he has an
instinctive understanding of these things — he will
observe the child in such a way that he is faced with this
question: What is the main trend of a child's development up to
the time of the change of teeth? An intimate study of man will
show that up to the change of teeth the child is a completely
different being from what he becomes later on. A tremendous
inner transformation takes place at this time, and there is
another tremendous transformation at puberty. Just think what
the change of teeth signifies for the growing child. It is only
the outer sign for deep changes which are taking place in the
whole human being, changes which occur only once, for only once
do we get our second teeth, not every seven years. With the
change of teeth the formative process taking place in the teeth
comes to an end. From now on we have to keep our teeth for the
rest of our lives. The most we can do is to have them stopped,
or replaced by false ones, for we get no others out of our
organism. Why is this? It is because with the change of teeth
the organisation of the head is brought to a certain
conclusion. If we are aware of this, if in each single case we
ask ourselves: What actually is it that is brought to a
conclusion with the change of teeth? — we are led, just
at this point, to a comprehension of the whole human
organisation, body, soul and spirit. And if — with our
gaze deepened by a love gained through a knowledge of man such
as I have described — we observe the child up to the
change of teeth, we shall see that during these years he learns
to walk, to speak and to think. These are the three most
outstanding faculties to be developed up to the change of
teeth.
Walking entails more than just learning to walk. Walking is
only one manifestation of what is actually taking place, for it
involves learning to adapt oneself to the world through
acquiring a sense of balance. Walking is only the crudest
expression of this process. Before learning to walk the child
is not exposed to the necessity of finding his equilibrium in
the world: now he learns to do this. How does it come about? It
comes about through the fact that man is born with a head which
requires a quite definite position in regard to the forces of
balance. The secret of the human head is shown very clearly in
the physical body. You must bear in mind that an average human
brain weighs between 1,200 and 1,500 grammes. Now if such a
weight as this were to press on the delicate veins which lie at
the base of the brain they would be crushed immediately. This
is prevented by the fact that this heavy brain floats in the
cerebral fluid that fills our head. You will doubtless remember
from your studies in physics that when a body floats in a fluid
it loses as much of its weight as the weight of the fluid it
displaces. If you apply this to the brain you will discover
that our brain presses on its base with a weight of about 20
grammes only; the rest of the weight is lost in the cerebral
fluid. Thus at birth man's brain has to be so placed that its
weight can be brought into proper proportion in regard to the
displaced cerebral fluid. This adjustment is made when we raise
ourselves from the crawling to the upright posture. The
position of the head must now be brought into relationship with
the rest of the organism. Walking and using the hands make it
necessary for the head to be brought into a definite
position. Man's sense of balance proceeds from the head.
Let
us go further. At birth man's head is relatively highly
organised, for up to a point it is already formed in the
embryo, although it is not fully developed until the change of
teeth. What however is first established during the time up to
the change of teeth, what then receives its special outer
organisation, is the rhythmic system of man. If people
would only observe physical physiological processes more
closely they would see how important the establishing of the
circulatory and breathing systems is for the first seven years.
They would recognise how here above all great damage can be
done if the bodily life of the child does not develop in the
right way. One must therefore reckon with the fact that in
these first years of life something is at work which is only
now establishing its own laws in the circulatory and breathing
systems. The child feels unconsciously how his life forces are
working in his circulation and breathing. And just as a
physical organ, the brain, must bring about a state of balance,
so must the soul in the first years of life play its part in
the development of the breathing and circulatory systems. The
physical body must be active in bringing about a state of
balance proceeding from the head. The soul, in that it is
rightly organised for this purpose, must be active in the
changes that take place in the circulation and breathing. And
just as the upright carriage and learning to use the hands and
arms are connected with what comes to expression in the
brain, so the way in which speech develops in man is connected
with the systems of circulation and breathing. Through learning
to speak man establishes a relationship with his circulation
and breathing, just as he establishes a relationship between
walking and grasping and the forces of the head by learning to
hold the latter in such a way that the brain loses the right
amount of weight. If you train yourself to perceive these
relationships and then you meet someone with a clear,
high-pitched voice particularly well-suited to the
recitation of hymns or odes, or even to declamatory moral
harangues, you may be sure that this is connected with
special conditions of the circulatory system. Or again if you
meet someone with a rough, harsh voice, with a voice like the
beating together of sheets of brass and tin, you may be sure
that this too is connected with the breathing or circulatory
systems. But there is more to it than this. When one learns to
listen to a child's voice, whether it be harmonious and
pleasant, or harsh and discordant, and when one knows that this
is connected with movements of the lungs and the circulation of
the blood, movements inwardly vibrating through the whole man,
right into the fingers and toes, then one knows that what is
expressed through speech is imbued with qualities of soul. And
now something in the nature of a higher man, so to say, makes
its appearance, something which finds its expression in this
picture relating speech with the physical processes of
circulation and breathing. Taking our start from this point it
is possible to look up and see into the pre-natal life of man
which is subject to those conditions which we have made our own
between death and a new birth. What a man has experienced in
pre-earthly conditions plays in here, and so we learn that if
we are to comprehend the being of man by means of true human
understanding and knowledge we must train our ear to a
spiritual hearing and listen to the voices of children. We can
then know how to help a child whose strident voice betrays the
fact that there is some kind of obstruction in his karma and we
can do something to free him from such karmic hindrances.
From all this we can see what is necessary for education. It is
nothing less than a knowledge of man; not merely the sort of
knowledge that says: “This is a gifted personality, this
is a good fellow, this is a bad one,” but the kind of
knowledge that follows up what lies in the human being, follows
up for instance what is spiritually present in speech and
traces this right down into the physical body, so that one is
not faced with an abstract spirituality but with a spirituality
which comes to expression in the physical image of man. Then,
as a teacher, you can set to work in such a way that you take
into consideration both spirit and body and are thus able to
help the physical provide a right foundation for the spirit.
And further, if you observe a child from behind and see that he
has short legs, so that the upper part of the body is too heavy
a burden and his tread is consequently also heavy, you will
know, if you have acquired the right way of looking at these
things, that here the former earthly life is speaking, here
karma is speaking. Or, for instance if you observe someone who
walks in the same way as the German philosopher Johann Gottlieb
Fichte, who always walked with his heels well down first, and
even when he spoke did so in such a way that the words came
out, as it were “heels first,” then you will see in
such a man another expression of karma.
In
this way we learn to recognise karma in the child through
observation based on spiritual science. This is something of
the greatest importance which we must look into and understand.
Our one and only help as teachers is that we learn to observe
human beings, to observe the bodies of the children, the souls
of the children and the spirits of the children. In this way a
knowledge of man must make itself felt in the sphere of
education, but it must be a knowledge which is deepened in soul
and spirit.
With this lecture I wanted to call up a picture, to give an
idea of what we are trying to achieve in education, and what
can arise in the way of practical educational results from what
many people consider to be highly unpractical, what they look
upon as being merely fantastic day-dreaming.
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