Lecture VI
Goetheanism as an Impulse for Man's Transformation
12th January, 1919
Last night dear Frau Dr.
Leyh died. I believe from the very fact of her expending so much energy
in playing her part in this organisation during the last weeks of her
life on earth, in spite of severe illness that made it hard for her
to come up and down here—I believe that from the keenness with
which she shared in our work you will have been able simply through
these facts, particularly when you have so constantly seen her here,
to feel what a delightful and precious personality has left us if one
is to speak in the terms of outer space.
Those of our friends who
tended her devotedly during the last days of her earthly life, who stood
by her in friendship and devotion, have shown in every case of this
standing-by, in all the help given her, how fond they had become of
this personality. I need not dwell at length on what we all feel in
our hearts. Those who have now had the opportunity of knowing this personality
so well in her intimate circle, not only during her suffering of the
last weeks but all through her spiritual striving, her wonderful spiritual
struggles, which came to such a grand conclusion that even on her last
day she was deep in many great ideas about our world-outlook—those
with her in her intimate circle, and also those less intimately connected
with her (as I said, I need not labour this) will send their thoughts
towards the spiritual region
where henceforth our good friend will be. They will be following her
and will use every moment possible to be together in spirit with one
whom physically they have been permitted to be so closely connected
with in the spirit of our world conception, in times when the friend
who has gone could joyfully follow but also in times when she had to
follow only with sorrow, what our Anthroposophical development wills.
In token of this, my dear
friends, we will rise from our seats.
Yesterday I wanted to make
it clear that, looked at from one side, the actual content, the deeper
content, of the Christ impulse that has come into the world through
the Mystery of Golgotha, has not been entirely imparted to mankind either
all at once nor during the relatively long time that there has been
a Christianity up to now. During the whole of the future, ever more
and more of the content of the Christ impulse will be imparted to mankind;
in fact there is deep truth in the saying of Christ Jesus; “For,
lo, I am with you away even unto the end of the world.” And Christ
did not mean that He would be inactive among men but that He would be
revealing Himself actively, entering into their souls, giving souls
encouragement, giving them strength; so that when these souls know what
is happening within them they find the way, they are able to find the
connection with the Christ and feel themselves strong for their earthly
striving.
But just in this age of
ours, this age of consciousness, it is necessary for all this to be
clear, as far as may be today, and as I have said the content will flow
forth in an ever clearer and richer stream for men. For this very reason
it is already necessary today to make clear to ourselves what actually
belongs to the revelation of the Christ impulse. To come to a right
understanding on this point we must first be permeated by the knowledge
that the human race has really developed, really changed, in the course
of the earth period. One can best describe the change by saying that
when we look back into very ancient times on earth, times long before
the Mystery of Golgotha, we find on close scrutiny that the bodily nature
of man was more spiritual than it is today. And it was this bodily nature
of man that allowed the visions to arise which in a certain way revealed
to atavistic clairvoyance the supersensible world. But this faculty,
this force, for making oneself acquainted with the spiritual world by
atavistic clairvoyance, became gradually lost to mankind. And just at
the time when the Mystery of Golgotha was approaching there was indeed
a crisis. This crisis showed that the force in connection with the revelation
of the spiritual had sunk to its lowest degree in man's bodily nature.
Now from that point of
time, from that critical point, there had to arise a strengthening of
the soul and spirit, a strengthening of the power of soul and spirit,
corresponding to the weakening of bodily power. Here in the earthly
body we have to count on our body as an instrument. Man would simply
not have been capable of acquiring in his soul and spirit the new strength
necessary to meet the lowering of his bodily forces, had he net received
help from a region that was not of the earth, a region outside the earth,
had not something entered the earth from outside— namely, the
Christ impulse. Man would have been too weak to make any progress by
himself.
And this can be seen particularly
clearly if we look at the nature of the old Mysteries. What purpose
did these old Mysteries serve? On the whole it may be said: the great
masses of our forefathers (which means of ourselves, for in our former
life we were indeed the very men we now call forefathers) these men
in very ancient days were furnished with a much duller consciousness
than that of today. They were more instinctive beings. And the men of
this instinctive nature would never have been able to find their way
into a knowledge that is nevertheless necessary for man's good, for
his support, for his growing powers of consciousness. And certain personalities
initiated into the Mysteries, whose Karma called them to do so could
then proclaim to the others who led a more instinctive life the truths
that may be called the truths of salvation. This instruction, however,
could only be given in those olden days out of a certain constitution
of the human organism, the human being, a constitution no longer existing.
The Mystery Ceremonies, the organisation of the Mysteries in their various
stages, depended upon a man becoming a different person through the
Mysteries. Today, this can no longer really be pictured because through
external arrangements (recently I have given an account of these in
the Egyptian Mysteries) (cf. R LII.) it is not possible at the stage
we are in today. By bringing about certain functions, certain inner
experiences of soul, the man's nature really became so transformed that
the spiritual was liberated in full consciousness. But the pupil in
the Mysteries was prepared to begin with in such a way that this spiritual
did not become free in the chaotic condition that it does today in sleep;
a man could really perceive in the spiritual. The great experience undergone
by Mystery pupils was that after initiation they knew about the spiritual
world as a man through his eyes and ears knows about the physical world
of the senses. After that they were able to proclaim what they knew
of the spiritual world.
But the time came when
a man's nature could no longer be straightway transformed in this manner
by such doings as those in the ancient Mysteries. Man did indeed change
in the course of history. Something different had to come and the different
thing that came was actually what at a certain stage man had experienced
in the Mysteries, the inner resurrection, enacted as historical fact
on Golgotha. Now this had happened historically. A man, Jesus—for
outwardly as a man going about He was the man Jesus—had gone through
the Mystery of Golgotha. Those who were His intimates knew, however,
that after a certain time He appeared among them as a living being (how
this was we will not go into today) and that therefore the resurrection
is a truth.
Thus we may say: In the
course of human evolution the fact once came about that at a certain
place on earth the news was proclaimed that through a force coming from
beyond the the earth, the Christ impulse, a man had triumphed over death:
and thus the overcoming of death could actually be one of the experiences,
one of the practical experiences, of earthly existence. And what was
the consequence? The consequence was that in the historical evolution
of man there had taken place something intellectually incomprehensible,
something which should now develop in a special way, something belonging
to the progress of man. For it is incomprehensible to the human intellect
that a man should die, be buried and rise again. To save the evolution
of the earth something therefore was necessary, something had to happen,
in the physical course of earthly evolution that is incomprehensible
to the understanding which can be employed quite well where nature is
in question, but incomprehensible to the intellect that is applied to
nature. And it is only honourable to admit that the farther men progress
in the development of this intellect—and development in the consciousness
age is pre-eminently development of the intellect—the more incomprehensible
must the event of Golgotha become for this intellect that is above all
directed to external nature. We can put it like this—anyone only
conscious of the way the ordinary intellect is applied when directed
to Nature, must in honesty gradually come to own that he does not understand
the Mystery of Golgotha. But he must give himself a shake for nevertheless
he must understand. This is what is essential—to give
oneself a shake, and simply think oneself out above the sound human
understanding. This is essential, it is something that necessarily must
happen—to give oneself this shake so as in spite of all to learn
to understand something apparently incomprehensible precisely for the
highest human force.
There must be ever more
and more a going back—the greater the development of the intellect
upon which the flourishing of science depends, the more the understanding
of the Mystery of Golgotha will have to retreat before the intellectual
development. It was for this reason also that in a certain sense historically
chosen for understanding the Mystery of Golgotha—in the way I
have explained the Mystery of Golgotha to you—it was not the cultured
Hebrews, nor the cultured Greeks, nor the cultured Romans, who as I
said yesterday converted it into different conceptions, but above all
it was the northern barbarians, with their primitive culture, who in
their primitive souls received the Christ Who came to them just as He
came to Jesus of Nazareth. Indeed in the sense of what I was discussing
with you yesterday it may be said: The Christ came first to the man
Jesus of Nazareth in the event of Golgotha. There mankind was shown—the
mankind of the Hebrews, the mankind of the Greeks, mankind of the Romans—the
most important of all happenings in earthly existence. But after that
Christ came once again, united Himself with the men who peopled the
East and the North of Europe, who by no manner of means possessed the
culture of the Hebrews nor of the Greeks, nor of the Romans. There He
did not unite Himself with individual man, there He united Himself with
the folk souls of these tribes. Yesterday, however, we had to emphasise
that these tribes gradually evolved. They had to a certain degree to
overtake at a fifth stage what at a fourth stage had been accomplished
by the Hebrew, Greek, and Latin peoples. And yesterday we dwelt on the
fact that it was only at Goethe's epoch that the epoch of Plato was
reached for this later time. In Goethe himself, for the fifth post-Atlantean
period, the Platonism of the Greeks of the fourth post-Atlantean period
was repeated. Yet in Goetheanism man still had not come to the point
at which he already faced the entirely new form of grasping the Mystery
of Golgotha, but, as I said yesterday, he was in a state of expectation.
This attitude towards the
Mystery of Golgotha on the part of more recent mankind can be particularly
well studied if one comes to a real understanding of the personality,
but for the moment the personality of soul and spirit of Goethe. It
is absolutely in accordance with Spiritual Science for us to ask the
following question: Where do Goethe and those who belong to him, the
various minds who were in connection with him, stand as the eighteenth
century passed into the nineteenth; where does Goetheanism stand with
regard to mankind's evolution, with regard to understanding the Christ
impulse? We might first consider how Goethe actually stood within European
evolution.
Now it will be well here
to recall something I have often said to you during these years of catastrophe,
it will be just as well to go back to the answer to the question—where
are the European periphery tending with their American off shoots? We
should not forget that whoever turns his gaze without prejudice to these
civilisations on the periphery of Europe, knows that in what English
culture consists, in the cultures too of France, Italy, the Balkans,
as as there has been progression here, but even behind the culture of
Eastern Europe, all this has been rayed out from the centre of Europe;
all these cultures have been radiated out. Naturally it would be dreadfully
prejudiced to believe that what today is Italian culture, Italian civilisation,
is anything but what has been radiated throughout Italy from mid-Europe,
but absorbed into the Latin nature, still there in the language and
outer form. It would be shocking prejudice to think that English civilisation
is intrinsically different from what has streamed out from mid-Europe,
and actually merely appropriated again in its language and so on in
another way, in reality far less than the Italian or French way. But
all that France, England, Italy and, even in mare respects, what Eastern
Europe is, has been rayed out from central Europe. And in this centre
there has now remained what indeed we have just found left after the
streaming out of these cultures, what has remained as the womb out of
which Goetheanism has evolved. We are faced today by this fact, a fact
to be calmly accepted, that what has rayed forth into the periphery
is working with all its power to bring to naught, to
nullify, even where soul and spirit are in question, everything existing
in mid-Europe from which it has streamed. There will come a time when
the world will look in a quite different way from how it does today
upon this monstrous phenomenon in human events, where the world is reedy
to set up as idols fourteen corpses of western thought. At some future
date mankind will realise that there came about what may be called the
absolute desire to exterminate what thus radiated out in all directions.
It goes without saying that the tragedy of this fact will bear its fruit.
For connected with this
fact, we see appearing in a further step forward of Europe's evolution,
with the exception of the period during recent decades when other forces
may be said to have held sway, all that prepared a way for itself and
developed throughout the centuries by reason of the personal characteristics
of those who in the most various directions developed these civilisations—we
see all this streaming forth from the whole of Central Europe. How little
inclination mankind has today for forming unprejudiced judgment on this
point: I think I may say that, at the time the last traces were to be
found of what assured the matter a fully scientific basis, I myself
actually stood in intimate connection with it; my old friend, Karl Julius
Schröer, was studying the various dialects, the various languages
and the various natures of those sections of the people looked upon
as German nationals of North Hungary, of Siebenburg and formerly of
the various districts in Austria. Whoever observes here all that refers
to the unpretentious dictionary and grammar of the Zips-German of Siebenburg
Saxony in Schröer's studies which, in personal collaboration with
him in the studies he was then making concerning the spread of mid-European
culture, I was permitted to comment upon, whoever does this may say
that he was still connected with a knowledge unhappily no longer even
noticed today amid the confusion and turmoil of events. But let us look
at this Hungary where, you must know, purely Magyar culture has been-supposedly
established in the course of recent decades, since the year 1867; let
us look there, not with political unreality, political delusion, political
hatred, let us look in conformity with the truth. It will then be discovered
that in the regions that afterwards, later, were supposed to be magyarised
as countries of the Magyars, men from the Rhine were moved in—like
the Siebenburg Saxons, men from further west, like the Germans of Zips,
men out of modern Swabia, like the Germans of Bana. All this is the
leaven forming the basis of the Magyar culture over which is now simply
poured what then in reality was only developed very late as Magyar culture.
At the basis of this Magyar culture, however, though perhaps not in
anything expressible in language, but rather in the feelings, in the
experiences, in the whole national character, there has always flowed
in what has for centuries come from Central Europe.
Astonishing as it is, were
you just to take the whole of European history, you could make a study
of this in all the periphery regions of Europe. In the east the Slav
wave came up against what radiated from the centre, and what radiated
from the centre was pushed aside by the Slav wave—in the west
by the Latin wave. And through a tragic chain of events, having, however,
an inner historical necessity, the periphery then turned against what
still remained in the womb of the centre, turned in such a way that
from this turning a fact becomes clear—it may be believed or not,
it may easily be mocked or scoffed at or not—what remained in
mid-Europe grew out of Goetheanism, grasped by soul ant spirit in its
reality and its truth, all this no longer meets with any understanding
in the best intelligence of the periphery. Of this it might be said:
The actual substance of what is the essence of mid-Europe is spoken
of everywhere, even in the American countries, as though people had
no notion of it. People may have no notion of it, but world history
will bring it to the surface. This is what can give one strength in
a certain sense to be able to hold fast to it.
It is true, my dear friends,
on Silvester eve I gave you here a picture worked out by a man who is
well able to make a calculation about the future relations of central
Europe. (see Z 269.) If everything is fulfilled, even if only part is
fulfilled, of what the periphery countries are wanting, these relations
cannot be otherwise. But out of all this, the extermination of which
for external existence has been decided upon, indeed the extermination
of which will be fulfilled above everything else during the next years,
the next decades—for so it has been determined in the councils
of the periphery powers—within all this there has been the last
shaping of what we described yesterday; there was within it the last
shaping of what is nevertheless important as a leaven for the evolution
of men. It must flow in, this evolution simply must go on of which I
gave you a picture in what has to do with the Magyars. This radiating
will indeed continue.
But particularly in central
Europe all that during the last decades has certainly been very little
understood there, will have to be grasped. Something of the nature of
what lies in the aims of the threefold ordering of social existence,
as I have presented it, will have to be understood. It will be central
Europe itself that will be called upon to understand this threefold
ordering. And perhaps if this centre of Europe has no external state,
if this centre of Europe is obliged to live tragically in chaos, there
will then be the first beginnings of understanding that we have to overcome
those old outlooks for which the periphery of Europe is at present struggling,
for these old outlooks will be unable to be maintained even by the European
periphery. The old concept of the state will vanish, it will give place
to the separation into three parts. And what constitutes Goetheanism
will indeed have to enter this external life. Whether or not it is given
this name is immaterial. The essential thing is that Goethe's world-outlook
foresees what simply must be made clear also where the forming of human
society is concerned. But all this can be discovered only if we take
the trouble to understand this representative, this most representative
being of all Germans—Goethe. For he is such a perfect representative
of the German nature just because he is so entirely without national
Chauvinism or anything at all reminiscent of Chauvinism or nationalism,
as understood today. There must be an attempt to understand this man
who represents all that is new, this most modern man, at the same time
this most fruitful of men in his being for all that is spiritual culture.
It cannot be said that mankind have yet reached a high point in their
comprehension of Goethe. In his environment Goethe felt very mush alone.
And even were Goethe one of those personalities who accustom themselves
to social intercourse, who even develop a certain adroitness and grace
in society so that a possible relation is set up to their environment,
even were this so, the real Goethe living in the inner circle of Weimar
and later in outward appearance the stout Privy Councillor with the
double chin—the man who inwardly lived in this stout Privy Councillor
felt lonely. And in a certain way he may be said still to be alone today.
He is alone for a quite definite reason and must feel himself alone.
This feeling of cultural isolation, this feeling of his that he was
not understood, perhaps underlay his remarkable saying of later years:
“Perhaps a hundred years hence Germans will be different from
what they are now, perhaps from scholars they will have grown into human
beings.”
My dear friends, this saying
must touch us in the very depths of our soul. For, you see, we may look
at the last years of the eighties, for example. When after the death
of the last of Goethe's grandchildren in Weimar the Archives of Goethe
and Schiller and the Goethe Society were founded, these were founded
by a gathering of men—truly I want to say it in the best sense
of the word—by a gathering of scholars. In fact the Goethe cult
was organised by men, by personalities, who really had not grown out
of scholars into men. One may even go farther. You know how much I revere
Herman Grimm, the art historian, the subtle essayist (cf. The Story
of My Life, also E.N.43.) and I have never made any secret of my
admiration nor spoken to you in any different way about my admiration
for Herman Grimm. I have also unconditionally admitted to you that I
consider what has come from Herman Grimm's pen about Goethe as the best
book as biography, as monography, that has been written about him. But
now take this book of Herman Grimm's; it is written out of a certain
human affection and width of outlook, but take it as giving a picture
of Goethe himself which arises when you have let the book have its affect
upon you. What is this figure Goethe? It is just a ghost, a ghost rather
than the living Goethe. If these things are taken earnestly and in a
spirit worthy of them one cannot help feeling that should Herman Grimm
meet Goethe today, or had he met Goethe during his life time, because
he harboured fervent admiration for him in the tradition built up about
Goethe, he would have been ready at any moment to say: Goethe is predestined
to be the spiritual king not only of mid-Europe but of all mankind.
Indeed Herman Grimm, had it come his way, would have even gone to great
lengths to serve as herald, had it been a question of making Goethe
king of all earthly culture. But neither can one get free of the other
feelings Had Herman Grimm got into conversation with Goethe, or Goethe
with Herman Grimm, Herman Grimm would hardly have found it possible
to understand what was in the depths of Goethe's being. For what he
portrays in his book, although undoubtedly the best he knew of Goethe,
is nothing but the shadow thrown by Goethe on his surroundings, the
impression he made upon his age. There is nothing here, not even the
slightest suggestion, of what lived in Goethe's soul—but merely
a ghost out of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries and not what
was living deep down in Goethe.
This is a remarkable phenomenon
which must be pondered in the soul in all seriousness and with due consideration.
And if we look away from all this well, not Goetheanism but Goethe-worship
that even a hundred years after Goethe is in reality far more scholarly
than human, if we look back at Goethe himself, beneath much of what
is great, much of what is grandiose confronting us in Goethe, we see
one thing above all. Much, curiously much in Goethe—just take
The Mysteries Frau Dr. Steiner recited here a short time ago,
take the Pandora, take the Prometheus Fragment, (cf.
E.N. 36) or some other work, take the fact that The Natural Daughter
is only the first part of an incomplete trilogy, or the fact that in
this fragment there was expressed something of the very greatest that
lived in Goethe, and you have the strange, the quite strange, fact that
when Goethe set himself to express what was greatest he never brought
it to a conclusion. This was because he was sufficiently honest, not
outwardly to round off the matter, to bring it to perfection, as a poet,
an artist, will even do, but simply to leave off when the inner source
of strength became dry. This is the reason wily so much remained unfinished:
But the matter goes further, my dear friends. The matter goes far enough
for us to be able to say: In an external way Faust is certainly
brought to a conclusion, but how much in Faust is inwardly
unsound, how much in it is like the figure of Mephistopheles itself.
Read what I have said about Faust and about the figure of Mephistopheles
in the recently published booklet on Goethe, where I spoke of how Goethe
in his Mephistopheles set up a figure that in reality does not exist,
for In this figure the two figures of Lucifer and Ahriman merge into
one another and interweave in a chaotic way. And in the course of the
week you will see presented here the last scenes before the appearance
of Helen, before the third Act of the second part of Faust,
something completed in Goethe's advanced age, something, however, on
the one hand impressive, deep, powerful, on the other hand though finished
to outward appearance, inwardly quite unfinished. It contains everywhere
hints of what Goethe was hankering after, which however would not come
into his soul. If we regard Faust from the point of view of
its human greatness we have before us a work of gigantic proportions;
if we look from the point of view of the greatness that would have lived
in it had Goethe in his time been able to bring forth all that lay in
his soul, then we have a frail, brittle work everywhere incomplete in
itself. (see R LV.)
What Goethe left to those
coming after him is perhaps the most powerful testament. That they should
not only acknowledge him, that they do not acknowledge him today as
a great scholar, or even as a man of certain culture, is easy to understand
but Goethe did not make our attitude to him as easy as that. Goethe
has to live among us as if he were still alive; he must be further felt,
further thought. What is most significant in Goetheanism does not remain
where Goethe was, for in his time he was not able to bring it into his
soul out of the spiritual, and only the tendency is everywhere present.
Goethe demands of us that we should work with him, think with him, feel
with him, that we should carry on his task just as though he were standing
behind each one of us, tapping us on the shoulder, giving us advice.
In this sense it may be said that the whole of the nineteenth century
and up to our own time, Goethe has been given the cold shoulder. And
the task of our time is to find the way back to Goethe. Strictly speaking
nothing is more foreign to real Goetheanism than the whole earthly culture,
external earthly culture, with the exception of the modicum of spiritual
culture that we have—nothing is more foreign than the earthly
culture of the end of the nineteenth century or even of the twentieth
century. The way back to Goethe must be found through the Spiritual
Science of Anthroposophy.
This can be understood only
by one who can go straight for the question: where did Goethe stand
actually and in reality? You have from Goethe the most honest human
avowal (I spoke of this yesterday) that he started out from paganism
as it also corresponded to Platonism. The boy erected for himself a
pagan altar to Nature, then the man Goethe was most strongly influenced
not by all that was derived from the traditional Christianity of the
Church, this fundamentally always remained foreign to him because his
world-outlook is a world-outlook of expectancy, of awaiting the new
understanding of the mystery of Golgotha. Those who in the old, traditional
sense embraced the faith of the Christian Church in comfort, or even
wished within this Christian Church to carry through all manner of purely
outward reforms, were not in reality, closely related to him inwardly,
where soul and spirit are concerned. Actually he always felt as he did
when, travelling with the two apparently good Christians Lavater and
Baswdow; two men who represented a progressive but at the same time
old ecclesiastical Christianity, he said: “Prophets to right,
prophets to left and the worldling in the middle.” It was his
actual feeling between two of his contemporaries that he thus gave voice
to; as opposed to the Christians around him he was always the definite
non-Christian for the very reason that he was to prepare mankind for
the Christ mood of waiting.
And so we see three men
in a remarkable war having the very greatest influence upon his spiritual
culture. These three men are actually thorough worldlings in a certain
sense; ordinary Christian ministers were not popular with Goethe. The
three personalities having such a great influence upon him are, first
Shakespeare. Why had Shakespeare such a decisive influence upon Goethe?
This was simply because Goethe aimed at building a bridge from the human
to the superhuman, not in accordance with any abstract rule, not out
of an intellectuality open to influence, but out of what is human itself.
Goethe needed to hold fast to the human so that within it he might find
the passage over from the human to the superhuman. Thus we see Goethe
making every effort to model, to form the human, to work out of the
human as Shakespeare did to a certain degree. Look how Goethe took hold
of The History of Godfried Von Berlichingen with the Iron Hand,
Berlichingen's autobiography; how altering it as little as possible
he dramatised this history and moulded the first figure of his Götz
von Berlichingen; how then he formed a second figure out of him,
this time more transformed, having more shape—then a third. In
a way Goethe seeks his own straight forward path which holding to Shakespeare's
humanity, but out of the human he is wanting to form the superhuman.
This he first succeeded
in doing when, on his Italian travels (read his letters), he believes
he can recognise from what is near to him, from the Greek works of art,
how the Greeks pursued the same intentions, the divine intentions, according
to which nature herself proceeds. He goes on his own path, his own individual,
personal,true, path of experience. He could not accept what those around
him said—he had to find his own way.
The second mind that had
an enormous influence upon him, was that of a decided non-Christian,
namely, Spinoza. In Spinoza he had the possibility of finding the divine
in the way this divine is found a man wishing to make a road for himself
leading from the human to the superhuman. Fundamentally Spinoza's thoughts
bear the last impression of the intellectual age of the old Hebrew approach
to God. As such, Spinoza's thoughts are very far from the Christ-impulse.
Spinoza's thoughts, however, are such that the human soul as it were
finds in them the thread to which to hold when seeking that way. There
within men is my being, from this human being I seek to press on to
what is superhuman. This way that he could follow, that he did not have
to have dictated to him, that be could fellow while following Spinoza,
this path Goethe in a certain sense, at a certain stage in his life,
looked upon as his.
And the third of the spirits
having the greatest influence upon him was the botanist Linnaeus. Why
Linnaeus? Linnaeus for the reason that Goethe would have no other kind
botanical science, no other science of the living being, but one which
simply placed the living beings in juxtaposition, in a row as Linnaeus
has done. Goethe would have nothing to do with the abstract thinking
that thinks out all kinds of thoughts about plant classes, species and
so on. What he considered important was to let Linnaeus work upon him
as a man who placed things beside one another. For from a higher standpoint
than that of the people who follow up the plants in an abstract way,
what Linnaeus conscientiously placed next to each other as plant forms
Goethe wanted to pursue after his own fashion, just as the spirit makes
itself felt in this side by side arrangement.
It is just these three spirits
who really could give Goethe what was lacking in the intimate circle
of his life at the time, but was something he had to find outside; it
is just these spirits who had the strongest influence upon him. Goethe
himself had nothing of Shakespeare in him, for when he came to the climax
of his art he created his Natural Daughter, which certainly
contained nothing of Shakespeare's art but strove after something entirely
different. He could, however, develop his inmost being only by educating
himself in Shakespeare. Goethe's world-outlook had nothing in it of
the abstract Spinoza; what was deep within Goethe, however, as his way
to God could only be reached through Spinoza. Goethe's morphology had
nothing of the placing side by side of the organic being, as in the
case of Linnaeus, but, Goethe needed the possibility of taking from
Linnaeus what he himself did not have. And what he had to give was something
new.
Thus then did Goethe develop
and came to his fortieth year, brought up on Shakespeare, Linnaeus and
Spinoza; and having gone through what in the way of art Italy could
show him he said when there about these works of art: “Here is
necessity, here is God”. And as he lived in the spirit of his
epoch there took place in him in a strong but unconscious way, also,
however, to a certain extent consciously, what may be called his meeting
with the Guardian of the Threshold.
And now, bearing in mind
his passing the Guardian of the Threshold in the early nineties of the
eighteenth century, compare words sounding like prayers to Isis in ancient
Egypt, reminiscent of the old Egyptian Isis, such as those in the Prose-Hymn
to Nature just recited to you by Frau Dr. Steiner—compare
these words in which Goethe had still a quite pagan feeling, with those
that as powerful imagination meet you in The Fairy tale of the Green
Snake and the Beautiful Lily, there you have Goethe's path from
paganism to Christianity. But there in pictures stands what Goethe became
after going through the region of the Threshold, after he passed the
Guardian of the Threshold. It stands there in pictures which he himself
was unable to analyse for people in intellectual thoughts, which all
the same are mighty pictures. Whither are we obliged to go if we wish
to understand the Goethe who wrote the fairy tale of The Green Snake
and the Beautiful Lily? Consider what is written about the fairy
tale of The Green Snake and the Beautiful Lily in the little
book on Goethe already mentioned. (see Goethe's Standard of the
Soul) When we really look at this we are confronted by the fact
that Goethe created this fairy story of The Green Snake and the
Beautiful Lily as a mighty Imagination, after passing the Guardian
of the Threshold.
This fairy tale of The
Green snake and the Beautiful Lily that has sprung from a soul
transformed, sprang forth after the soul found the bridge from pagan
experience as it still finds utterance in the Hymn in Prose.
“Nature! we are surrounded and enveloped by her, unable to step
out of her, unable to get into her more deeply. She takes us up unasked
and unwarned into the circle of her dance, and carries us along till
we are wearied and fall from her arms” . . . “Even the unnatural
is Nature . . . Everything is her life; and death is merely her ingenious
way of having more life . . .” and so on and so forth.
This pagan Isis mood is
changed into the deep truths, not to be grasped at once by the intellect,
lying in the mighty Imaginations of The Green Snake end the Beautiful
Lily where Goethe set down uncompromisingly how all that man is
able to find through the external science of Europe can only lead to
the fantastic capers of a will-of-the wisp. He shows also, however,
that what man develops within must lead him to develop the powers of
his soul in such a way that the self-sacrificing serpent who sacrifices
his own being to the progress of human evolution can became the model
which enables the bridge to be built from the kingdom of the physical
world of the senses to the kingdom of the superphysical; and between
these there rises the Temple, the new temple, by means of which the
supersensible kingdom may be experienced.
Certainly, in this fairy
story of The Green Snake and the Beautiful Lily there is no
talk of Christ. But just as little as Christ asked of a good follower
that he should always just be saying Lord, Lord! is he a good Christian
who always says Christ, Christ! The manner in which the pictures are
conceived, the way the human soul is thought out in its metamorphosis
in this fairy story of The Green Snake and the Beautiful Lily,
the sequence of the thoughts, the force of the thoughts—this is
Christian, this is the new path to Christ. For, why is this? In Goethe's
day there were a number of interpretations of this fairy tale and since
then in addition to those there have been many more. We have thought
to throw light on to the fairy tale from the standpoint of Spiritual
Science. My dear friends, I may, (here in this circle I may venture
to speak out about this) I have the right to speak about this fairy
tale. It was at the end of the eighties of the nineteenth century when
the knot of this fairy tale untied itself for me. And I have never since
forsaken the path that should lead farther and farther into the understanding
of Goethe, with the help of the mighty Imaginations embodied In the
fairy tale of The Green Snake and the Beautiful Lily. It may
be said that the intellect that leads us quite well in our search for
scientific truths, this intellect that can quite well guide us in acquiring
an external outlook on nature and its conditions, at this precise moment
so favourable to such an outlook, when anyone wishes to understand the
fairy tale, this intellect is found absolutely wanting. It is necessary
here to let the intellect be fructified by the conceptions of Spiritual
Science. Here you have, transformed for our age and its conditions,
what is necessary to all mankind for understanding the Mystery of Golgotha.
For understanding the Mystery
of Golgotha the intellect must first be re-forced; it must move itself,
jerk itself. No jerk is needed for understanding external nature. It
has become ever more impossible for Latin culture as well as for the
German—for the Latin because it is too greatly decedent, for the
German culture because up to now it has not sufficiently evolved—it
has become ever more impossible out of mere intellectuality to school
the soul so far that it can find the new way to the Mystery of Golgotha.
When, however, you develop the possibility in you, can you re-shape
the forces of the soul so that they begin in a natural inner speech
to find the passage over to the pictorial for which Goethe strove, then
you school the forces of your soul so that they find the way to the
new comprehension of the Mystery of Golgotha. This is what is important.
Goethe's significance does
not lie only in that he accomplished; it lies above all In what he does
to our soul when we fully surrender ourselves to the profoundest depths
of his being. Then gradually mankind will be able even consciously to
find the path an which to pass the Guardian of the Threshold, the path
Goethe fortunately, took while still, unconscious, and on that account
was unable to finish just those works in which he wished to express
all that was deepest in him. In this soul of Goethe's there lived a
shimmering and glimmering of what was conscious and what was unconscious,
what was attainable and what was out of reach. When we let such a poem
as The Mysteries work upon us, or when we let Pandora
work upon us, or any of the things Goethe left unfinished, we have the
feeling that in this very incompletion there lies something that must
free itself in the souls of those following after Goethe, something
that will have to be completed as a great spiritual picture.
Goethe was lonely. Where
it was a question of Goethe's real being he was lonely, lonely in his
evolution. Goetheanism contains much that is hidden. But, my dear friends,
even though the nineteenth century has not yet produced human beings
out of scholars, whereas Goethe struggled through out of a scholarly
to a human world-outlook, evolution must indeed go forward with the
help of Goethe's impulse. I said yesterday and repeat today that the
force bound up with the Mystery of Golgotha once united itself in a
little known province of the Roman Empire with the man Jesus of Nazareth,
and then with the Folk souls at central Europe after that, however,
this force became inward. And out of what was weaving there inwardly
in central Europe came such results as we find in Goethe and the whole
of Goetheanism. But it is just the nineteenth century that has had a
great share in letting Goetheanism lie in its grave. In every sphere
the nineteenth Century has done everything possible to leave Goetheanism
in its grave.
The scholars Who in Weimar
founded the Goethe Society at the end of the eighties of the nineteenth
century would much rather have belonged to those who buried Goetheanism
than to those who could raise any thing of this Goetheanism from the
deed. Quite certainly the time has not come for Goetheanism to be able
to live yet for the external life. The time depends on what we have
often spoken of, namely, on the renewal of the human soul through Spiritual
Science. Whatever may come to this Europe that now in a certain sense
would bring about its own death, the grave which above all, first of
all, the lack of thought in modern culture is digging, this grave will
nevertheless also be a grave from which something will rise again. I
have already pointed to the fact that the Christ spirit united itself
with the folk souls of middle Europe; Goetheanism arose in the bosom
of these folk souls. A resurrection will come, a resurrection not to
be conceived as political, a resurrection that will have a very different
appearance—but resurrection it will be. Goetheanism, my dear friends
is not alive, Goetheanism for outer culture is still resting in the
move: Goetheanism must however rise again from the dead.
Let the building that we
have sought to set up on this hill bear testimony to the sincerity of
our purpose, with the necessary courage for the present time to undertake
the bringing to life of G0etheanism. For this, it is true we should
need the courage to understand and penetrate in its ungoethean way what
has up till now called itself Goetheanism. We should have to learn to
acclaim Goethe's spirit to the same degree as the end of the nineteenth
century and the beginning of the twentieth have disowned it, denied
it in every possible sphere. Then the path of knowledge acquired through
Spiritual Science, a path that is to be found unconditionally, will
be connected with the historical path of the resurrection of Goetheanism.
But it will also be connected with what can come from this resurrection
of Goetheanism, that is, the impulse towards a new understanding of
the Mystery of Golgotha, that right understanding of the Christ which
is necessary for our particular age. Perhaps the pathfinder of the Christianity
necessary for mankind in the future will be recognised as the decidedly
non-Christian Goethe who, like Christ Himself, did not ask for the constant
repetition of “Lord, Lord . . .” but that man should carry
his spirit in his heart, in his mind; and that in Goetheanism it should
not always be a matter of “Christ, Christ . . .” but all
the more that what has flowed into men as reality from the Mystery of
Golgotha should be preserved in the heart, so that this heart should
gradually change abstract and intellectual knowledge, the present knowledge
about nature, into something by means of which the supersensible world
is seen, so that men may be given the force for a deeper knowledge of
the world and for a shaping of the social structure that is worthy of
the human being.