Foreword
The matter
which I am
laying before the public in this book formed the content of lectures
which I delivered during last winter at the Theosophical Library in
Berlin. I had been requested by Grafin and Graf Brockdorff ‘to
speak upon Mysticism before an audience for whom the matters thus
dealt with constitute a vital question of the utmost importance. Ten
years earlier I could not have ventured to fulfil such a request. Not
that the realm of ideas, to which I now give expression, did not even
then live actively within me. For these ideas are already fully
contained in my
philosophy of Freedom (Berlin,
1894. Emil Felber). But to give expression to this world of ideas in
such wise as I do today, and to make it the basis of an exposition as
is done on the following pages— to do this requires something quite
other than merely to be immovably convinced of the intellectual truth
of these ideas. It demands an intimate acquaintance with this realm
of ideas, such as only many years of life can give. Only now, after
having enjoyed that intimacy, do I venture to speak in such wise as
will be found in this book.Any
one who does not approach my world of ideas without preconceptions is
sure to discover therein contradiction after contradiction. I have
quite recently (Berlin, 1900. S. Cronbach) dedicated a book upon the
world conceptions of the nineteenth century to that great naturalist,
Ernst Haeckel, and closed it with a defence of his thought-world.In
the following expositions, I speak about the Mystics, from Master
Eckhart to Angelus Silesius, with a full measure of devotion and
acquiescence. Other "contradictions,” which one critic or
another may further count up against me, I shall not mention at all.
It does not surprise me to be condemned from one side as a "Mystic”
and from the other as a “ Materialist.” When I find that the
Jesuit Father Muller has solved a difficult chemical problem, and I
therefore in this particular matter agree with him unreservedly, one
can hardly condemn me as an adherent of Jesuitism without being
reckoned a fool by those who have insight.Whoever
goes his own road, as I do, must needs allow many a misunderstanding
about himself to pass. That, however, he can put up with easily
enough. For such misunderstandings are, in the main, inevitable in
his eyes, when he recalls the mental type of those who misjudge him.
I look back, not without humorous feelings, upon many a “ critical”
judgment that I have suffered in the course of my literary career. At
the outset, matters went fairly well. I wrote about Goethe and his
philosophy. What I said there appeared to many to be of such a nature
that they could file it in their mental pigeon-holes. This they did
by saying: “A work such as Rudolf Steiner’s Introduction
to Goethe s Writings upon Natural Science may,
without hesitation, be described as the best that has been written
upon this question.”When,
later, I published an independent work, I had already grown a good
bit more stupid. For now a well meaning critic offered the advice:
“Before he goes on reforming further and gives his Philosophy
of Freedom to
the world, he should be pressingly advised first to work himself
through to an understanding of these two philosophers [Hume and
Kant].’’The
critic unfortunately knows only so much as he is himself able to read
in Kant and Hume; practically, therefore, he simply advises me to
learn to see no more in these thinkers than he himself sees. When I
have attained that, he will be satisfied with me.Then
when my Philosophy
and Freedom appeared,
I was found to be as much in need of correction as the most ignorant
beginner. This I received from a gentleman who probably nothing else
impelled to the writing of books except that he had not understood
innumerable foreign ones. He gravely informs me that I should have
noticed my mistakes if I had “made more thorough studies in
psychology, logic, and the theory of knowledge” ; and he enumerates
forthwith the books I ought to read to become as wise as himself: “
Mill, Sigwart, Wundt, Riehl, Paulsen, B. Erdmann.”What
amused me especially was this advice from a man who was so
“impressed” with the way he “understood” Kant that he could
not even imagine how any man could have read Kant and yet judge
otherwise than himself. He therefore indicates to me the exact
chapters in question in Kant's writings from which I may be able to
obtain an understanding of Kant as deep and as thorough as his own.I
have cited here a couple of typical criticisms of my world of ideas.
Though in themselves unimportant, yet they seem to me to point, as
symptoms, to facts which present themselves to-day as serious
obstacles in the path of any one aiming at literary activity in
regard to the higher problems of knowledge. Thus I must go on my way,
indifferent, whether one man gives me the good advice to read Kant,
or another hunts me as a heretic because I agree with Haeckel. And so
I have also written upon Mysticism, wholly indifferent as to how a
faithful and believing materialist may judge of me. I would only
like— so that printers’ ink may not be wasted wholly without
need— to inform any one who may, perchance advise me to read
Haeckel’s Riddle
of the Universe, that
during the last few months I have delivered about thirty lectures
upon the said work.I
hope to have shown in this book that one may be a faithful adherent
of the scientific conception of the world and yet be able to seek out
those paths to the Soul along which Mysticism, rightly understood,
leads. I even go further and say: Only he who knows the Spirit, in
the sense of true Mysticism, can attain a full understanding of the
facts of Nature. But one must not confuse true Mysticism with the “
pseudo-mysticism” of ill-ordered minds. How Mysticism can err, I
have shown in my Philosophy
of Freedom (page
131 et seq.).Rudolf
Steiner
Introduction
Thereare certain magical formulas which operate throughout the
centuries of Man’s mental history in ever new ways. In Greece one
such formula was regarded as an oracle of Apollo. It runs: “Know
Thyself.” Such sentences seem to conceal within them an unending
life. One comes upon them when following the most diverse roads in
mental life. The further one advances, the more one penetrates into
the knowledge of things, the deeper appears the significance of
these formulas. In many a moment of our brooding and thinking, they
flash out like lightning, illuminating our whole inner being. In
such moments there quickens within us a feeling as if we heard the
heart-beat of the evolution of mankind. How close do we not feel
ourselves to personalities of the past, when the feeling comes over
us, through one of their winged words, that they are revealing to
us that they, too, had had such moments!We feel ourselves then brought into intimate touch with these
personalities. For instance, we learn to know Hegel intimately
when, in the third volume of hisLectures on the
Philosophy of Historywe come across the words:
“Such stuff, one may say, the abstractions that we contemplate when
we allow the philosophers to quarrel and battle in our study, and
make it out to be thus or so—mere verbal abstractions!No! No! These are deeds of the world -spirit and therefore of
destiny. Therein the Philosophers are nearer to the Master than are
those who feed themselves with the crumbs of the spirit; they read
or write the Cabinet Orders in the original at once; they are
constrained to write them out along with Him. The Philosophers are
the Mystae who, at the crisis in the inmost shrine, were there and
took part.” When Hegel said this, he had experienced one of those
moments just spoken of. He uttered the phrases when, in the course
of his remarks, he had reached the close of Greek philosophy; and
through them he showed that once, like a gleam of lightning, the
meaning of the Neoplatonic philosophy, of which he was just
treating, had flashed upon him. In the instant of this flash, he
had become intimate with minds like Plotinus and Proklus; and we
become intimate with him when we read his words.We become intimate, too, with that solitary thinker, the
Pastor of Zschopau, M. Valentin Weigel, when we read the opening
words of his little bookKnow Thyself,written in 1578:"We read in the wise men of old the useful saying, 'Know
Thyself,’ which, though it be right well used about worldly
manners, as thus: 'regard well thyself, what thou art, seek in
thine own bosom, judge thyself and lay no blame on others,' a
saying, I repeat, which, though thus used of human life and
manners, may well and appropriately be applied by us to the natural
and supernatural knowing of the whole man; so indeed, that man
shall not only consider himself and thereby remember how he should
bear himself before people, but that he shall also know his own
nature, inner and outer, in spirit and in Nature; whence he cometh
and whereof he is made, to what end he is
ordained."So, from points of view peculiar to himself, Valentin Weigel
attained to insight which in his mind summed itself up in this
oracle of Apollo.A similar path to insight and a like relation to the saying “
Know Thyself ” may be ascribed to a series of deep-natured
thinkers, beginning with Master Eckhart (1250- 1327), and ending
with Angelus Silesius (1624-1677), among whom may be found also
Valentin Weigel himself.All these thinkers have in common a strong sense of the fact
that in man’s knowing of himself there rises a sun which
illuminates something very different from the mere accidental,
separated personality of the beholder. What Spinoza became
conscious of in the ethereal heights of pure thought,—viz.,that “the human soul possesses an
adequate knowledge of the Eternal and Infinite Being of God,”—that
same consciousness lived in them as immediate feeling; and self
knowledge was to them the path leading to this Eternal and Infinite
Being. It was clear to them that self-knowledge in its true form
enriched man with a new sense, which unlocked for him a world
standing in relation to the world accessible to him without this
new sense as does the world of one possessing physical sight to
that of a blind man.It would be difficult to find a better description of the
import of this new sense than the one given by J. G. Fichte in his
Berlin Lectures (1813):"Imagine a world of men born blind, to whom all objects
and their relations are known only through the sense of touch. Go
amongst them and speak to them of colours and other relations,
which are rendered visible only through light. Either you are
talking to them of nothing,—and if they say this, it is the
luckier, for thus you will soon see your mistake, and, if you
cannot open their eyes, cease your useless talking,—or, for some reason or other, they will
insist upon giving some meaning or other to what you say; then they
can only interpret it in relation to what they know by touch. They
will seek to feel, they will imagine they do feel light and colour,
and the other incidents of visibility, they will invent something
for themselves, deceive themselves with something within the world
of touch, which they will call colour. Then they will
misunderstand, distort, and misinterpret it."The same thing applies to what the thinkers we are speaking
of sought after. They beheld a new sense opening in self knowledge,
and this sense yielded, according to their experiences, views of
things which are simply non-existent for one who does not see in
self-knowledge what distinguishes it from all other kinds of
knowing. One in whom this new sense has not been opened, believes
that self knowing, or self-perception, is the same thing as
perception through the outer senses, or through any other means
acting from without.He thinks: “Knowing is knowing, perceiving is perceiving.”
Only in the one case the object is something lying in the world
outside, in the other this object is his own soul. He finds words
merely, or at best, abstract thoughts, in that which for those who
see more deeply is the very foundation of their inner life; namely,
in the proposition: that in every other kind of knowing or
perception we have the object perceived outside of ourselves, while
in self-knowledge or self-perception we stand within that object;
that we see every other object coming to us already complete and
finished off, while in ourselves we, as actors and creators, are
weaving that which we observe within us. This may appear to be
nothing but a merely verbal explanation, perhaps even a triviality;
it may appear, on the other hand, as a higher light which
illuminates every other cognition. One to whom it appears in the
first way, is in the position of a blind man, to whom one says:
there is a glittering object. He hears the words, but for him the
glitter is not there. He might unite in himself the whole sum of
knowledge of his time; but if he does not feel and realise the
significance of self-knowledge, then it is all, in the higher
sense, a blind knowledge.The world, outside of and independent of us, exists for us by
communicating itself to our consciousness. What is thus made known
must needs be expressed in the language peculiar to ourselves. A
book, the contents of which were offered in a language unknown to
us, would for us be without meaning. Similarly, the world would be
meaningless for us did it not speak to us in our own tongue; and
the same language which reaches us from things, we also hear from
within ourselves. But in that case, it is we ourselves who speak.
The really important point is that we should correctly apprehend
the transposition which occurs when we close our perception against
external things and listen only to that which then speaks from
within. But to do this needs this new sense. If it has not been
awakened, we believe that in what is thus told us about ourselves
we are hearing only about something external to us; we fancy that
somewhere there is hidden something which is speaking to us in the
same way as external things speak. But if we possess this new
sense, then we know that these perceptions differ essentially from
those relating to external things. Then we realise that this new
sense does not leave what it perceives outside of itself, as the
eye leaves the object it sees; but that it can take up its object
wholly into itself, leaving no remainder. If I see a thing, that
thing remains outside of me; if I perceive myself, then I myself
enter into my perception. Whoever seeks for something more of
himself than what is perceived, shows thereby that for him the real
content in the perception has not come to light. Johannes Tauler
(1300-1361), has expressed this truth in the apt words:"If I were a king and knew it not, then should I be no
king. If I do not shine forth for myself in my own self-perception,
then for myself I do not exist. But if for myself I do shine out,
then I possess myself also in my perception, in my own most deeply
original being. There remains no residue of myself left outside of
my perception."J. G. Fichte, in the following words, vigorously points to
the difference between self perception and every other kind of
perception:"The majority of men could be more easily brought to
believe themselves a lump of lava in the moon than an 'ego.'
Whoever is not at one with himself as to this, understands no
thorough-going philosophy and has need of none. Nature, whose
machine he is, will guide him in all the things he has to do
without any sort of added help from him. For philosophising,
self-reliance is needed, and this one can only give to oneself. We
ought not to want to see without the eye; but also we ought not to
maintain that it is the eye which sees."Thus the perception of oneself is also the awakening of
oneself. In our cognition we combine the being of things with our
own being. The communications, which things make to us in our own
language, become members of our own selves. An object in front of
me is not separated from me, once I have known it. What I am able
to receive from it becomes part and parcel of my own being. If,
now, I awaken my own self, if I become aware of the content of my
own inner being, then I also awaken to a higher mode of being, that
which from without I have made part of my own being. The light that
falls upon me at my awakening falls also upon whatever I have made
my own from the things of the outside world. A light springs up
within me and illumines me, and with me all that I have cognised of
the world. Whatever I might know would remain blind knowledge, did
not this light fall upon it. I might search the world through and
through with my perception; still the world would not be that which
in me it must become, unless that perception were awakened in me to
a higher mode of being.That which I add to things through this awakening is not a
new idea, is not an enrichment of the content of my knowing; it is
an uplifting of the knowledge, of the cognition, to a higher level,
where everything is suffused with a new glory. So long as I do not
raise my consciousness to this level, all knowledge continues to be
for me, in the higher sense, valueless. The things are there
without my presence. They have their being in themselves. What
possible meaning could there be in my linking with their being,
which they have outside and apart from me, another spiritual
existence in addition, which repeats the things over again within
me? If only a mere repetition of things were involved, it would be
senseless to carry it out. But, really, a mere repetition is only
involved so long as I have not awakened, along with my own self,
the mental content of these things upon a higher level. When this
occurs, then I have not merely repeated within myself the being of
things, but I have brought it to a new birth on a higher level.
With the awakening of myself, there is accomplished a spiritual
re-birth of the things of the world.What the things reveal in this re-birth did not previously
belong to them. There, without, stands the tree. I take it up into
my consciousness. I throw my inner light upon that which I have
thus conceived. The tree becomes in me more than it is outside.
That in it which finds entrance through the gate of the senses is
taken up into a conscious content. An ideal replica of the tree is
within me, and that has infinitely more to say about the tree than
what the tree itself, outside, can tell me. Then, for the first
time there shines out from within me, towards the tree, what the
tree is. The tree is now no longer the isolated being that it is
out there in space. It becomes a link in the entire conscious world
that lives in me. It links its content with other ideas that are in
me. It becomes a member of the whole world of ideas that embraces
the vegetable kingdom; it takes its place, further, in the series
of all that lives.Another example: I throw a stone in a horizontal direction
away from me. It moves in a curved line and after some time falls
to the ground. I see it in successive moments of time in different
places. Through observation and reflection I acquire the following:
During its motion the stone is subject to different influences. If
it were subject only to the influence of the impulse which I
imparted to it, it would go on flying for ever in a straight line,
without altering its velocity. But now the earth exerts an
influence upon it. It attracts the stone towards itself. If,
instead of throwing the stone, I had simply let it go, it would
have fallen vertically to earth; and its velocity in doing so would
have constantly increased. From the mutual interaction of these two
influences arises that which I actually see.Let us assume that I could not in thought separate the two
influences, and from this orderly combination put together again in
thought what I see: in that case, the matter would end with the
actual happening. It would be mentally a blind staring at what
happened; a perception of the successive positions which the stone
occupies. But in actual fact, matters donotstop there. The whole occurrence
takes place twice. Once outside, and then my eye sees it; then my
mind causes the whole happening to repeat itself again, in a mental
or conscious manner. My inner sense must be directed upon the
mental occurrence, which my eye does not see, and then it becomes
clear to that sense that I, by my own inner power, awaken that
occurrence as a mental one.Again, another sentence of J. G. Fichte’s may be quoted which
brings this fact clearly before the mind."Thus the new sense is the sense for the spirit; that for
which there exists only spirit and absolutely nothing else, and for
which also the 'other,' the given being, assumes the form of spirit
and transforms itself into spirit, for which therefore being in its
own proper form has actually disappeared.... There has been the
faculty of seeing with this sense ever since men have existed, and
all that is great and excellent in the world, which alone upholds
humanity, originates in what has been seen by means of this sense.
It is, however, not the case that this sense has been perceived or
known in its difference and its contrast with that other, ordinary
sense. The impressions of the two senses melted into one another,
life fell apart into these two halves without a bond of
union."The bond of union is created by the fact that the inner sense
grasps in its spirituality the spiritual element which it awakens
in its intercourse with the outer world. That which we take up into
our consciousness from outside things thereby ceases to appear as a
mere meaningless repetition. It appears as something new over
against that which only external perception can give. The simple
occurrence of throwing the stone, and my perception thereof, appear
in a higher light when I make clear to myself the kind of task
which my inner sense has to perform in regard to the whole thing.
In order to fit together in thought the two influences
[...]