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In this landmark series of lectures, Rudolf Steiner challenges the notion that human consciousness has in essence remained the same throughout history. On the contrary, we can only see the past in its true light when we study the differences in human souls during the various historical eras. Consciousness, he says, evolves constantly and we can only comprehend the present by understanding its origin in the past.Delivered in the evenings during the course of the 'mystery act' of the Christmas Foundation Meeting – when Rudolf Steiner not only re-founded the Anthroposophical Society but for the first time took a formal role within it – these lectures study world history in parallel with the ancient mysteries of initiation, showing how they are intimately linked. Steiner describes consciousness in the ancient East and follows the initiation principle from Babylonia to Greece, up to its influences in present-day spiritual life. He also discusses Gilgamesh and Eabani, the mysteries of Ephesus and Hibernia, and the occult relationship between the destruction by fire of the Temple of Artemis and the burning of the first Goetheanum in Dornach, Switzerland.Published for the first time with colour plates of Steiner's blackboard drawings, the freshly-revised text is complemented with an introduction, notes and appendices by Professor Frederick Amrine and an index.
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WORLD HISTORY AND THE MYSTERIES
IN THE LIGHT OF ANTHROPOSOPHY
Nine lectures given in Dornach between 23 December and 1 January 1924 during the Foundation Meeting of the General Anthroposophical Society
TRANSLATED BY GEORGE AND MARY ADAMS, FREDERICK AMRINE AND DOROTHY OSMOND
EDITED BY FREDERICK AMRINE
INTRODUCTION BY FREDERICK AMRINE
RUDOLF STEINER
Rudolf Steiner Press Hillside House, The Square Forest Row, RH18 5ES
www.rudolfsteinerpress.com
Published by Rudolf Steiner Press 2021
Originally published in German under the title Die Weltgeschichte in anthroposophischer Beleuchtung und als Grundlage der Erkenntnis des Menschengeistes (volume 233 in the Rudolf Steiner Gesamtausgabe or Collected Works) by Rudolf Steiner Verlag, Dornach. Based on shorthand notes that were not reviewed or revised by the speaker. This authorized translation is based on the fifth German edition (1991), edited by Caroline Wispler
Published by permission of the Rudolf Steiner Nachlassverwaltung, Dornach
© Rudolf Steiner Nachlassverwaltung, Dornach, Rudolf Steiner Verlag 1991
This translation © Rudolf Steiner Press 2021
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 978 1 85584 588 6 EISBN 978 1 85584 625 8
Cover by Morgan Creative Typeset by Symbiosys Technologies, Vishakapatnam, India Printed and bound by 4Edge Ltd., Essex
CONTENTS
Publisher’s Note
Introduction, by Frederick Amrine
LECTURE 1 DORNACH, 24 DECEMBER 1923The development of memory in the course of human evolution
LECTURE 2 DORNACH, 25 DECEMBER 1923Ancient oriental experience of the world
LECTURE 3 DORNACH, 26 DECEMBER 1923Gilgamesh and Eabani—The Mysteries of Ephesus
LECTURE 4 DORNACH, 27 DECEMBER 1923The Hibernian Mysteries and the Mysteries of the Logos of Artemis at Ephesus
LECTURE 5 DORNACH, 28 DECEMBER 1923The conception of nature and of spirit in nature of the oriental Mysteries and its shadow image in the Greek civilization
LECTURE 6 DORNACH, 29 DECEMBER 1923The time between the burning of the Temple of Artemis and the death of Julian the Apostate—The working of Aristotelianism up to the spiritual revelations in the last third of the nineteenth century
LECTURE 7 DORNACH, 30 DECEMBER 1923The losing of insight into the relationship between humans and the universe in modern times
LECTURE 8 DORNACH, 31 DECEMBER 1923The jealousy of the Gods and human jealousy—The burning of the Temple of Artemis and the burning of the Goetheanum
LECTURE 9 DORNACH, 1 JANUARY 1924The right entry into the spiritual world—The responsibility incumbent on us
APPENDICES:
1. The Evolution of Consciousness
2. Representation
3. The Hierarchies
4. Cosmic Evolution
5. The Etheric and the Astral Bodies
6. Ahriman and Lucifer
7. Ita Wegman
Notes
Rudolf Steiner’s Collected Works
Significant Events in the Life of Rudolf Steiner
Index
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
THESE lectures on world history in the light of anthroposophy were presented to members of the Anthroposophical Society in the evenings during the Christmas Foundation Conference, when Rudolf Steiner refounded the Anthroposophical Society. Rudolf Steiner’s reasons for doing this, the resolutions, speeches, discussion and the Articles of Incorporation and the complete proceedings of the Christmas Conference can be found in GA 260, published in English under the title The Christmas Conference for the Foundation of the General Anthroposophical Society 1923-1924 (Anthroposophic Press, 1990).
INTRODUCTION
The cycle World History and the Mysteries In the Light of Anthroposophy was given on the evenings of the Christmas Conference. Indeed, the last two lectures in the cycle are also included in the separate volume that records that Conference. Thus, it is safe to assume that the two events were all of one piece, and that the separation into two volumes is quite arbitrary. In order to do justice to World History, we have to view it as integral to the Christmas Conference. Therefore, let us reconstruct the entire event. This will give us a much fuller picture of what is actually going on in the cycle.
*
24 December, 1923
Morning: A separate Society for the young? Treatment of the lecture cycles, ‘a tragic chapter in the development of our Anthroposophical Society.’1 Reading of the Statutes of the Society.
Rudolf Steiner proposes to adopt the presidency of the new Society:
Out of all this, my dear friends, two alternative questions arose. In 1912, 1913 I said for good reasons that the Anthroposophical Society would now have to run itself, that it would have to manage its own affairs, and that I would have to withdraw into a position of an adviser who did not participate directly in any actions. Since then things have changed. After grave efforts in the past weeks to overcome my inner resistance I have now reached the realization that it would become impossible for me to continue to lead the Anthroposophical Movement within the Anthroposophical Society if this Christmas Conference were not to agree that I should once more take on in every way the leadership, that is the presidency, of the Anthroposophical Society to be founded here in Dornach at the Goetheanum. [49]
Evening: GA 233, Lecture One. Three kinds of memory: localized, rhythmic, temporal.
25 December, 1923
Morning: The first reading of the Foundation Stone meditation. General Secretaries from various countries report.
Afternoon: Questions and answers on the Statutes.
Evening: GA 233, Lecture Two. The dreamlike Asiatic experience of the world. Conquest and enslavement: Asian consciousness of life versus Greek fear of death.
26 December, 1923
Morning: Interpretation of the Foundation Stone meditation. Reports and discussions.
Evening: GA 233, Lecture Three. The reality underlying the Epic of Gilgamesh. Biographical hints: Eabani reincarnates as Aristotle and Gilgamesh as Alexander the Great.
27 December, 1923
Morning: Interpretation of the Foundation Stone meditation. Discussion of the Statutes.
Evening: GA 233, Lecture Four. The Hibernian and Ephesian Mysteries. The tragic destinies of Aristotle and Alexander the Great. The medieval Song of Alexander. Aristotle teaches Alexander the doctrine of the four elements.
28 December, 1923
Morning: Interpretation of the Foundation Stone meditation. Further discussion of the Statutes.
Evening: GA 233, Lecture Five. The decline of the Ephesian Mysteries. The shadowy but still divine consciousness of Greek culture. The torching of the Temple of Ephesus on the day of Alexander’s birth.
29 December, 1923
Morning: Meeting of the General Secretaries. Interpretation of the Foundation Stone meditation.
Evening: GA 233, Lecture Six. Further descent into Roman civilization. Julian the Apostate is the exception that proves the rule. Human thinking becomes abstract. Exclusion of the spirit. Aristotle’s works, saved in the East, returned to Europe with Scholasticism. The centrality of Aristotle as a spiritual guide.
30 December, 1923
Morning: Interpretation of the Foundation Stone meditation. Discussion of practicalities.
Evening: GA 233, Lecture Seven. The rise of the consciousness soul, ‘an unfruitful period in the evolution of the human spirit’. [109] The actual forces at work in human beings.
31 December, 1923
Morning: Interpretation of the Foundation Stone meditation. Lecture: The Idea of the Future Building in Dornach.
Afternoon: Meeting of the Swiss Delegation, discussion of practicalities.
Evening: GA 233, Lecture Eight. The solemn oath.
But there is a word — a word that has come down to us in history and that can speak powerfully to the human heart even in external historical tradition, but that speaks with peculiar force and earnestness when we see it shape itself out of strange and unparalleled events, when we see it written with external letters in the history of humanity, though the writing be only visible for a moment in the spirit. I declare to you that, wherever the eye of the spirit is turned to the deed of Herostratus, to the burning of Ephesus, then, in those flames of fire may be read the ancient words: The jealousy of the gods. [116]
And so in a certain sense we may say that in the Goetheanum we had something that could awaken in an altogether new form of memory of the old. [123]
Whoever looked upon this Goetheanum with feeling and understanding could find in it a memory of the Temple of Ephesus.
The memory, however, grew to be terribly painful. For in a manner not at all unlike what befell Ephesus in earlier time, exactly at the moment in its evolution when the Goetheanum was ready to become the bearer of the renewal of spiritual life, in that very moment there was flung into it a burning brand. [124]
1 January, 1924
Morning: Interpretation of the Foundation Stone meditation. Lecture: The Rebuilding of the Goetheanum.
Evening: GA 233, Lecture Nine. The Guardian of the Threshold.
The fact of the matter is this: the impulse that must be working in what is now to go out from Dornach must – as I emphasized from every possible point of view during the Conference itself – be an impulse originating in the spiritual world, not on the Earth. Our striving here is to develop the strength to follow impulses from the spiritual world. That is why, in the evening lectures during this Christmas Conference, I spoke of manifold impulses at work in the course of historical evolution in order that hearts could be opened for the reception of the spiritual impulses which have yet to stream into the earthly world, which are not derived from that world itself. Everything from which the earthly world hitherto has rightly been the vehicle, proceeded from the spiritual world. And if we are to achieve anything fruitful for the earthly world, the impulses for it must be brought from the spiritual world. [129]
We must leave this Conference which has led to the founding of the General Anthroposophical Society, not with trifling, but with solemn thoughts. But I think that nobody need have experienced any pessimism as a result of what took place here at Christmas. We had, it is true, to pass the tragic ruins of the Goetheanum every day, but I think that those who climbed the hill and pass the ruins during the Conference have become aware of what our friends have understood in their hearts and that the following thought will have become a reality to them: Spiritual flames of fire will go forth from the new Goetheanum that will come into being through our activity and devotion. And the greater the courage with which to conduct the affairs of anthroposophy that we take with us from this Conference, the more effectively we have grasped the spiritual impulse of hope that pervaded the Conference. [135-136]
*
On studying the progress of the Christmas Conference, we can see that there are three tremendous climaxes: Steiner’s assumption of the leadership of the Anthroposophical Society, the speaking of the Foundation Stone on Christmas morning, and the solemn oath that he asks the assembled members to take on New Year’s Eve.
Steiner barely divulged it to the membership, but assuming leadership of the Society was actually enormously daring. Heretofore, Rudolf Steiner had strenuously separated himself from the Anthroposophical Society. He had served only as a spiritual advisor, and had not even joined as a member. He was unsure whether the spiritual world wanted him to unite his personal karma with the karma of the Society. The spiritual world does not respond in principle to such a question in advance: the spiritual researcher must act freely, and then await the response. Rudolf Steiner presented his decision to the members with unqualified assurance, but it was actually a question posed to the spiritual world. How would it respond? He did not know. The stakes were the highest imaginable: the spiritual world might respond favorably, increasing his esoteric insight, but it might also respond unfavorably, putting his entire clairvoyant faculty in jeopardy.
The reading of the Foundation Stone culminated in the following words:
Let us ever remain aware of this Foundation Stone for the Anthroposophical Society, formed today. In all that we shall do, in the outer world and here, to further, to develop and to fully unfold the Anthroposophical Society, let us preserve the remembrance of the Foundation Stone which we have today lowered into the soil of our hearts. Let us seek in the threefold being of man, which teaches us to love, which teaches us the universal Imagination, which teaches us the universal thoughts; let us seek, in this threefold being, the substance of universal love which we lay as the foundation, let us seek in this threefold being the archetype of the Imagination according to which we shape the universal love within our hearts, let us seek the power of thoughts from the heights which enable us to let shine forth in fitting manner this dodecahedral Imagination which has received its form through love! Then shall we carry away with us from here what we need. Then shall the Foundation Stone which has received its substance from universal love and human love, its picture image, its form, from universal Imagination and human Imagination, and its brilliant radiance from universal thoughts and human thoughts, its brilliant radiance which whenever we recollect this moment can shine towards us with warm light, with light that spurs on our deeds, our thinking, our feeling and our willing. [72-73]
It is perhaps significant that the oath did not fall within the morning’s proceedings, but rather during the evening lectures. Here are the key moments:
Our pain and grief cling to the old Goetheanum. But we shall only show ourselves worthy of having been permitted to build this Goetheanum if we fulfill the task that yet remains to us, if we take today a solemn pledge, each one of us before the highest, the divine, that we bear within our soul, a pledge to hold faithfully in remembrance the spiritual impulses that have had their outward expression in the Goetheanum that is gone. [126]
My dear friends, you receive me by rising in memory of the old Goetheanum. Let us now rise in token that we pledge ourselves to continue working in the spirit of the Goetheanum with the best and highest forces that we have within us. So be it. Amen. [127]
*
Moreover, something enormously consequential happened that was not on the schedule. In the afternoon of 1 January, Rudolf Steiner became extremely ill at a social event. Somehow he managed to summon the strength to finish his ninth and last lecture. However, Steiner never fully recovered. This mysterious illness plagued him until finally he had to cease lecturing on 28 September, 1924. He was confined thereafter to what would become his deathbed on 30 March, 1925.
We can only speculate about the origin of this mysterious illness. On the one hand, the spiritual world responded affirmatively to Steiner’s decision to assume leadership of the Society. He spoke of floodgates of insight opening to him, and his supra-human productivity in the year 1924 confirms this. But the illness may also have been a consequence of his assuming leadership of the Society. It may be that both developments happened simultaneously: physical decline, accompanied by a tremendously heightened spiritual activity. In that case, Steiner was granted a unique form of grace for a relatively short period, but then he had to die.
*
Taking this all together, one sees a single overarching theme in the events of the conference, and that is tragedy. By tragedy, I mean spiritual progress purchased at an unspeakably high price. In order for the Foundation Stone and the Spiritual Goetheanum to be laid in the hearts of the members, the physical Goetheanum had to go up in flames. In order for Steiner to achieve a breakthrough, in order for him to give the First Class and to fulfill the mission of his incarnation by teaching karma, he had to perish. On a larger scale, the wisdom of the Mysteries had to die out completely in the outer world so that it could be renewed within. That is what lies at the heart of this cycle of lectures on World History. Progress, but at a nearly unbearable cost.
Tragedy.
Frederick Amrine
April 2021
_____________
1The Christmas Conference For the Foundation of the General Anthroposophical Society 1923/1924. Hudson, New York: Anthroposophic Press, 1990, p. 53.
LECTURE 1
DORNACH, 24 DECEMBER 1923
IN the evening hours of our Christmas Conference, 1 I should like to give you a kind of survey of human evolution on Earth that may help us to become more intimately conscious of the nature of present-day humanity. At this time in human history, when we can see already in preparation events of extraordinary importance for the whole civilization of humanity, every thinker must be inclined to ask: ‘How has the present configuration, the present make-up of the human soul arisen? How has it come about through the long course of evolution?’ For it cannot be denied that the present only becomes comprehensible as we try to understand its origin in the past.
The present age is however one that is peculiarly prejudiced in its thought about the evolution of humanity. It is commonly believed that, as regards his life of soul and spirit, we have always been essentially the same as we are today throughout the whole of the time that we call history. True, in respect of knowledge, it is imagined that in ancient times human beings were childlike, that they believed in all kinds of fancies, and that we have really only become clever in the scientific sense in modern times. But if we look away from the actual sphere of knowledge, it is generally held that the constitution of soul which humans have today was also possessed by the ancient Greek and by the ancient Oriental. Even though it is admitted that modifications may have occured in detail, on the whole it is supposed that throughout the historical period, everything in the life of the soul has been as it is today. We go on to assume a human prehistoric life, and say that nothing is really known of this. Going still further back, we picture the human being in a kind of animal form. Thus, in the first place, as we trace back in historical time, we see a life of soul undergoing comparatively little change. Then the picture disappears in a kind of cloud, and before that again we see ourselves in our animal imperfection as a kind of higher ape. Such is approximately the usual conception of today.
Now all this rests on an extraordinary prejudice, for in forming such a conception, we do not take the trouble to observe the important differences that exist in the human constitution of the present time, as compared even with that of a relatively not very far distant past—say, of the eleventh, tenth, and ninth centuries CE. The difference goes deeper when we compare the psychic constitution in the human being of today and in contemporaries of the Mystery of Golgotha,2 or in a Greek. And if we go over to the ancient Oriental world of which the Greek civilization was, in a sense, a kind of colony, a late colony, we find there a disposition of soul utterly different from that of the humanity of today. I should like to show you from real instances how humans lived in the East, let us say, ten thousand, or fifteen thousand years ago, and how different they were in nature from the Greek, and how still more different from what we ourselves are.3
Let us first call to mind our own lives of soul. I will take an example from it. We have a certain experience; and of this experience, in which we take part through our senses, or through our personality in some other way, we form an idea, a representation,4 and we retain this representation in our thought. After a certain time the idea may arise again out of our thought into our conscious life of soul as memory. You have perhaps today an experience of memory that leads you back to experiences in perception of some ten years ago. Now try to understand exactly what that really means. Ten years ago you experienced something. Ten years ago you may have visited a gathering of men and women. You formed a representation of each one of these persons, of their appearance and so on. You experienced what they said to you, and what you did in common with them. All that, in the form of pictures, may arise before you today. It is an inner psychic image that is present within you, connected with the event which occurred ten years ago. Now not only according to science, but according to a general feeling—which is, of course, experienced by us today in an extremely weak form, but which nevertheless is experienced—according to this general feeling, we localize such a representational memory which brings back a past experience in our heads. We say: ‘What lives as the memory of an experience is present in my head.’
Now let us jump a long way back in human evolution, and consider the early population of the Orient, of which the Chinese and Indians as we know them in history were only the late descendants; that is, let us really go back thousands of years. Then, if we contemplate humans of that ancient epoch, we find that they did not live in such a way as to say: ‘I have in my head the memory of something I have experienced, something I have undergone, in external life.’ We had no such inner feeling or experience; it simply did not exist for us. Our heads were not filled with thoughts and ideas. Present-day humanity thinks in its superficial way that as we today have ideas, thoughts, and concepts, so human beings always possessed these, as far back as history records; but that is not the case. If with spiritual insight we go back far enough, we meet with human beings who did not have ideas, concepts, thoughts all in their head, who did not experience any such abstract content of the head, but, strange as it may seem, experienced the whole head; they perceived and felt their whole head. These people did not give themselves up to abstractions as we do. To experience ideas in the head was something quite foreign to them, but they knew how to experience their own head. And as you, when you have a representation of memory, refer the representation of memory to an experience, as a relationship exists between your representation of memory and the experience, similarly these individuals related the experience of their head to the Earth, to the whole Earth. They said: ‘There exists in the cosmos the Earth. And there exists in the cosmos I myself, and as a part of me, my head; and the head which I carry on my shoulders, is the cosmic memory of the Earth. The Earth existed earlier; my head later. That I have a head is due to the memory, the cosmic memory of earthly existence. The earthly existence is always there. But the whole configuration, the whole shape of the human head, is in relation to the whole Earth.’ Thus an ancient Oriental felt in his own head the being of the planet Earth itself. He said: ‘Out of the whole great cosmic existence the Gods have created, have generated the Earth with its kingdoms of nature, the Earth with its rivers and mountains. I carry on my shoulders my head; and this head of mine is a true picture of the Earth. This head, with the blood flowing in it, is a true picture of the Earth with the land and water coursing over it. The configuration of mountains on the Earth repeats itself in my head in the configurations of my brain; I carry on my shoulders an image belonging to me of the earthly planet.’ Exactly as we moderns refer our representation of memory to our experience, so did humans of old refer their entire head to the planet Earth. A considerable difference of inner intuition!
Further, when we consider the periphery of the Earth, and fit it, as it were, into our vision of things, we feel this air surrounding the Earth as air permeated by the Sun’s warmth and light; and in a certain sense, we can say: ‘The Sun lives in the atmosphere of the Earth.’ The Earth opens herself to the cosmic universe; the activities that come forth from herself she yields up to the encircling atmosphere, and opens herself to receive the activities of the Sun. Now each of us, in those ancient times, experienced the region of the Earth on which we lived as of peculiar importance. Ancient Orientals would feel some portion of the surface of the Earth as their own; beneath them the Earth, and above them the encircling atmosphere turned towards the Sun. The rest of the Earth that lay to the left and right, in front and behind—all the rest of the Earth merged into a general whole [See Plate 1, left].
Thus if ancient Orientals lived, for example, on Indian soil, they experienced the Indian soil as especially important for them; but everything else on the Earth, East, West, South of them, disappeared into the universal. They did not concern themselves much with the way in which the Earth in these other parts was bounded by the rest of cosmic space; while on the other hand, not only was the soil on which they lived something important [see Plate 1, left, red], but the extension of the Earth into cosmic space in this region became a matter of great moment to them. The way in which they were able to breathe on this particular soil was felt by them as an experience of special importance.
Today, we are not in the habit of asking, how does one breathe in this or that place? We are of course still subject to favourable or unfavourable conditions for breathing, but we are no longer so conscious of the fact. For an ancient Oriental this was different. The way that they were able to breathe was for them a very deep experience, and so also were many other things that depend on the character of the Earth’s relation and contact with cosmic space. All that goes to make up the Earth, the whole Earth, was felt by humans of those early times as that which lived in their heads.
[See also Plate 1]
Now the head is enclosed by the hard, firm bones of the skull. Thus it is closed above, on two sides and behind. But it has certain exits; it has a free opening downwards towards the chest. And it was of special importance for humans of olden time to feel how the head opens with relative freedom in the direction of the chest [see Plate 1, right]. And as we had to feel the inner configuration of the head as an image of the Earth, so we had to bring the environment of the Earth, all that is above and around the Earth, into connection with the opening downwards, the turning towards the heart. In this they saw an image of how Earth opens to the cosmos. It was a mighty experience for humans of those ancient times when they said: ‘In my head I feel the whole Earth. But this Earth opens to my chest which carries within it my heart. And what takes place between head, chest, and heart is an image of what is borne out from my life into the cosmos, borne out to the surrounding atmosphere that is open to the Sun.’
It was a great experience for them, a fundamental one, when they were able to say: ‘Here in my head lives the Earth. When I go deeper, there the Earth is turning towards the Sun; my heart is the image of the Sun’ [see arrow]. The people of olden times attained in this way what corresponds to our life of feeling.
We still have the abstract life of feeling. But who of us knows anything directly about out hearts? Through anatomy and physiology, we think we know something, but it is about as much as we know of some papier-mâché model of the heart that we may have before us. On the other hand, what we have as an experience of the world in feeling is something that the people of olden times did not have. In place of it, we had the experience of our hearts. Just as we relate our feeling to the world in which we live, just as we feel whether we love someone or meet them with antipathy, whether we like this or that flower, whether we incline towards this or that, just as we relate our feelings to the world—but to a world torn out, as it were, in airy abstraction, from the solid, firm cosmos—in the same way did the ancient Orientals relate their hearts to the cosmos, that is, to what goes away from the Earth in the direction of the Sun.
Again, we say today: I will walk. We know that our will lives in our limbs. The ancient peoples of the East had an essentially different experience. What we call ‘will’ was quite unknown to them. It is pure prejudice when we believe that what we call thinking, feeling, and willing were present among the ancient Eastern cultures. This was not at all the case. They had head experiences, which were earthly experiences. They had experiences of the chest or heart, which were experiences of the environment of the Earth as far out as the Sun. The Sun corresponds to the heart experience. Then they had a further experience, a feeling of expanding and stretching out into their limbs. They became conscious and aware of their own humanity in the movement of their legs and feet, or of their arms and hands. They themselves were within the movements. And in this expansion on the inner being into the limbs, they felt a direct picture of their connection with the starry worlds [see Plate 1]. ‘In my head I have a picture of the Earth. Where my head opens freely downwards into the chest and reaches down to my heart, I have a picture of what lives in the Earth’s environment. In what I experience as the forces of my arms and hands, of my feet and legs, I have something which represents the relation the Earth bears to the stars that live far out there in cosmic space.’
When therefore they wanted to express the experience they had as a ‘willing’ human being—to use the language of today—they did not say: I walk. We can see that from the very words that they used. Nor did they say: I sit down. If we investigate the ancient languages in respect of their finer content, we find everywhere that for the action which we described by saying: I walk, the ancient Oriental would have said: Mars impels me, Mars is active in me. Going forward was felt as a Mars-impulse in the legs.
Grasping hold of something, feeling and touching with the hands, was expressed by saying: Venus works in me. Pointing out something to another person was expressed by saying: Mercury works in me. Even when a rude person attracted someone’s attention by giving them a push or a kick, the action would be described by saying: Mercury was working in that person. Sitting down was a Jupiter activity, and lying down, whether for rest or from sheer laziness, was expressed by saying: I give myself over to the impulses of Saturn. Thus they felt in their limbs the wide spaces of cosmos out beyond. They knew that when they went away from the Earth out into cosmic space, they came into the Earth’s environment and then into the starry spheres. If they went downwards from their heads, they passed through the very same experience, only this time within their own being. In their heads they were in the Earth, in their chest and heart they were in the environment of the Earth, in their limbs they were in the starry cosmos beyond.
From a certain point of view, such an experience is perfectly possible for us. Alas for us, poor people of today, who can experience only abstract thoughts! What are these really, for the most part? We are very proud of them, but we utterly forget what is far beyond the cleverest of them—our head; our head is much richer in content than the very cleverest of our abstract thoughts. Anatomy and physiology know little of the marvel and mystery of the convolutions of the brain, but one single convolution of the brain is more majestic and more powerful than the abstract knowledge of the greatest genius. There was once a time on the Earth when humans were not merely conscious as we are of our paltry thoughts, so to speak, but were conscious of their own heads; they felt the head to be the image of the Earth, and they felt this or that part of the head—let us say, the optic thalamus or the corpora quadrigemina5 to be the image of a certain physical, mountainous configuration of the Earth. They did not then merely relate their hearts to the Sun in accordance with some abstract theory. Rather, they felt: ‘My head stands in the same relation to my chest, to my heart, as the Earth does to the Sun.’ That was the time when they had grown together, in their whole life, with the cosmic universe; they had become one with the cosmos. And this found expression in their whole life.
Because we today put our puny thinking in the place of our head, through this very fact we are able to have a conceptual memory; we are able to remember things in thought. We form pictures in thought of what we have experienced as abstract memories in our head. That could not be done by individuals of olden times who did not have thoughts, but still had their head. They could not form memory pictures. And so, in those regions of the Ancient East where people were still conscious of their heads, but had as yet no thoughts and hence no memories, we find developed to a remarkable degree something of which people are again beginning to feel the need today. For a long time such a thing has not been necessary, and if today the need for it is returning, it is due to what I can only call slovenliness of soul.
If in that time of which I have spoken, if we were to enter the region inhabited by people who were still conscious of their head, chest, heart and limbs, we would see on every hand small pegs placed in the earth and marked with some sign. Or here and there a sign made upon a wall. Such memorials were to be found scattered over all inhabited regions. Wherever anything happened, someone would set up some kind of memorial, and when they came back to the place, they lived through the event over again in the memorial they had made. They had grown together with the Earth; they had become one with it in their heads. Today, we merely make a note of some event in our heads. As I have pointed out already, we are beginning once more to find it necessary to make notes not only in our heads, but also in a notebook; this is due, as I said, to slovenliness of soul, but nevertheless we shall need to do it more and more. At that time, however, there was no such thing as marking notes even in one’s head, because thoughts and ideas were simply non-existent. Instead, the land was dotted over with signs. And from this habit, so naturally acquired by people in olden times, has arisen the whole custom of making monuments and memorials.
Everything that has happened in the historical evolution of humanity has its origin and cause in our inner being. If we were but honest, we would have to admit that we moderns do not have the faintest knowledge of the deeper basis of this custom of erecting memorials. We set them up from habit. They are however the relics of the ancient monuments and signs put up by humanity in a time when we had no memory such as we have today, but were taught, in any place where we had some experience, there to set up a memorial, so that when we came that way again we might re-experience the event in our heads. For the head can call up again everything that has connection with the Earth. ‘We give over to the earth what our head has experienced.’ This was a principle of olden times.