CHAPTER III. SLEEP AND DEATH

The nature of waking consciousness cannot be fathomed without observing

that condition which man experiences during sleep, and the problem of life

cannot be approached without studying death. Any one failing to perceive

the importance of occult science may distrust the manner in which it

studies sleep and death. Occult science is, however, capable of

appreciating the motives from which such distrust arises. For there is

nothing incomprehensible in the assertion that man exists for an active,

purposeful life, that his acts depend on his devotion thereto, and that

absorption in such conditions as sleep and death can result only from a

taste for idle dreaming, and can lead to nothing else than vain

imaginings.

The refusal to accept anything of so fantastic a nature may readily be

regarded as the expression of a sound mind, while indulgence in such “idle

dreaming” is accounted morbid, and a pursuit fit only for people in whom

the joy and ardour of life are lacking, and who are incapable of “real

work.” It would be wrong to set this assertion aside at once as an

injustice, for it contains a certain grain of truth. It is one quarter

truth, and must be completed by the remaining three quarters belonging to

it. Now if we dispute the one quarter which is right, with one who

recognizes that one quarter quite distinctly but who does not dream of the

other three quarters, we only rouse his suspicions. For it must be indeed

granted absolutely that the study of that which lies hidden in sleep and

death is morbid if it leads to weakness or to estrangement from real life.

No less must we admit that much of that which has always called itself

occult science in the world, and which is even now practised under that

name, bears the impression of what is unhealthy and hostile to life; but

this certainly does not spring from _genuine occult science_.

The real fact of the matter is this, that just as a man cannot always be

awake, so neither is he sufficiently equipped for the actual conditions of

life, in its entire range, without that which occult science has to offer

him. Life continues during sleep, and the forces which work and labour

during the waking state draw their strength and refreshment from that

which sleep gives them. It is thus with the things under our observation

in the manifested world. The boundaries of the world are wider than the

field of this observation; and what man recognizes in the visible must be

supplemented and fertilized by what he is able to know of the invisible

world. A man who did not continually renew his exhausted forces by sleep,

would bring his life to destruction; and in the same way a view of the

world which is not fertilized by a knowledge of the unseen, must lead to a

feeling of desolation.

It is similarly so with regard to death. Living creatures fall a prey to

death in order that new life may arise. It is occult science which throws

light on Goethe’s beautiful phrase: “Nature invented Death in order to

have much Life.” Just as in the ordinary sense there could be no life

without death, so can there be no real knowledge of the visible world

without insight into the invisible. All discernment of the visible must

plunge again and again into the invisible in order to develop. Thus it is

evident that occult science alone makes the life of revealed knowledge

possible. When it emerges in its true form it never enfeebles life, but

strengthens it and ever renews its freshness and health, when, left to its

own resources, it has become weak and diseased.

When a man sinks into sleep the connection between his principles changes,

as described earlier in this work. The part of the sleeping man which lies

upon his couch comprises the physical and etheric bodies, but not the

astral body and not the ego. It is because the etheric body remains bound

to the physical body in sleep that the life-activities continue. For the

moment the physical body is left to itself, it must of necessity fall into

decay. The things that are extinguished in sleep are ideas, pain,

pleasure, joy, grief, the ability to express conscious will, and similar

facts of existence. But the astral body is the vehicle of all these

things. That the astral body, with all its joy and sorrow, its realm of

thought and will, is annihilated in sleep is an opinion that cannot be

entertained by an unbiased judgment; it exists still, but in another

condition. In order that the human ego and the astral body may not only be

endowed with pleasure and pain and all the other things we have named, but

also have a conscious perception of them, it is necessary that the astral

body should be united with the physical and etheric bodies. This is the

case during waking life, but not in sleep. The astral body has withdrawn

itself from the other bodies. It has adopted another kind of existence

than that which it possesses while united with the physical and etheric

bodies. Now it is the task of occult science to study this other kind of

existence in the astral body. During sleep, the astral body withdraws from

the possibility of external observation and occult science must trace it

in its hidden life, until it again takes possession of its physical and

etheric bodies on waking.

As in all cases when knowledge of the hidden things and events of life

have to be dealt with, clairvoyant observation is necessary for the

discovery of the real facts of the sleep state in its true nature, but if

that which may be discovered by this means has once been made clear, it is

comprehensible to really unprejudiced thought without further

demonstration. For events in the unseen world show themselves by their

effects in the manifested world. If what is revealed by clairvoyant vision

is an explanation of visible events, such a confirmation by life itself is

the proof which may rightly be demanded. Even one who will not use the

means to be given later for the attainment of clairvoyant vision, may have

the following experience: he may, in the first place, take the statements

of the clairvoyant for granted, and then apply them to the material events

within his experience. He will then find that life thereby becomes clear

and comprehensible; and the more exact and minute his observations of

ordinary life, the more readily will he come to this conclusion.

Even though the astral body during sleep passes through no experiences,

though it is not conscious of pleasure, pain, and the like, it does not

remain inactive. On the contrary, it is a fact that active work is its

function in the sleep state. For it is the astral body which strengthens

and recuperates man’s forces, exhausted during waking life. As long as the

astral body is united with the physical and etheric bodies it is related

to the outer world through these two bodies. They convey to it perceptions

and representations. Through the impressions which they receive from their

surroundings, it experiences pleasure and pain. Now the physical body can

be preserved in the form and shape suitable to the individual only by

means of the human etheric body. But this human form can be preserved only

by an etheric body which on its part receives corresponding forces from

the astral body. The etheric body is the builder, the architect, of the

physical body. It can, however, construct in the true sense only when it

receives from the astral body the impulse as to the manner in which it

must build. In this latter are contained the models, according to which

the etheric body gives the physical body its form. During our waking hours

these models for the physical body are not present in the astral body, or,

at least, only to a certain extent. For in waking life the soul replaces

these models with its own images. When a person directs his senses upon

his environment he thus creates in his ideas pictures which are copies of

the world around him. In fact these copies at first disturb the prototypes

which give the etheric body the impulse to preserve the physical body.

Such disturbance could not be present if a man, by virtue of his own

activity, could convey to his astral body those pictures which would give

the right impulse to the etheric body. Yet this very disturbance plays an

important part in human life, and is able to express itself because the

models for the etheric body do not come into full play in the waking life.

This fact is revealed by “fatigue.” Now, during sleep, no external

impressions disturb the force of the astral body. Therefore in this

condition it can expel fatigue. The work of the astral body during sleep

consists in removing fatigue, and it can accomplish this only by leaving

the physical and etheric bodies. During waking life the astral body does

its work within the physical body; during sleep it works on the latter

from without.

For instance, just as the physical body has need of the outer world, which

is of like substance with itself, for its supply of food, something of the

same kind takes place in the case of the astral body. Let us imagine a

physical human body removed from the surrounding world: it would die. That

shows that physical life is an impossibility without the entire physical

environment. In fact, the whole earth must be just as it is if physical

human bodies are to exist upon it. For, in reality, the whole human body

is only a part of the earth,—indeed, in a wider sense, part of the whole

physical universe. In this respect it is related in the same sense as, for

example, the finger of a hand to the entire human body. Separate the

finger from the hand and it cannot remain a finger: it withers away. Such

would also be the fate of the human body were it removed from that body of

which it is a member,—from the conditions of life with which the earth

provides it. Let it be raised above the surface of the earth but a

sufficient number of miles and it will perish as the finger perishes when

cut off from the hand. If this fact is less apparent in the case of a

man’s physical organism than in that of his finger and his body, it is

merely because the finger cannot walk about on the body as man is able to

do on the earth, and because on that account the dependence of the former

is more obvious.

In the same way that the physical body is embedded in the physical world

to which it belongs, so does the astral body form a part of its own world,

only it is torn out of it in waking life. We can form a clear idea of what

happens by having recourse to an analogy. Imagine a vessel filled with

water. No one drop is a separate thing in itself within that entire mass

of water. But let us take a little sponge and with it suck up a single

drop from the whole mass of water. Something of this kind happens to the

human astral body on awaking. During sleep it is in a world resembling its

own nature. In a certain sense it forms part of it. On awaking, the

physical and etheric bodies suck it up: they absorb it; they contain the

organs through which it perceives the outer world. In order to achieve

this perception it has to leave its own world, for it is in that world

alone that it can receive the models which it needs for the etheric body.

Just as food is supplied to the physical body from its surroundings, so

are the pictures of the world surrounding the astral body presented to it

during the state of sleep. There, indeed, it lives in the universe, beyond

the physical and etheric bodies: in that same universe out of which the

whole man is born. The source of the images by means of which man receives

his form is in this universe. He is linked in harmony with it; and when he

awakens he rises above the surface of this all-pervading harmony to attain

external perception. In sleep his astral body returns to the universal

harmony. He brings so much strength from it to his bodies on awaking that

he can once more dispense for a time with sojourning in the realm of

harmony. The astral body returns during sleep to its home, and, on

awaking, brings back into life freshly invigorated forces. That which the

astral body thus gains, and brings with it on waking, finds its outer

expression in the refreshment afforded by sound sleep.

Further exposition of occult science will show that this home of the

astral body is more extensive than that which belongs to the physical body

in the narrower sense of the physical environment. Thus, while man as a

physical being is a member of this earth, his astral body belongs to

worlds in which other heavenly bodies besides our earth are included.

During sleep, therefore,—(this can be made clear, as we have said, only by

further explanations)—it enters a world to which other stars than the

earth belong. In recognition of the fact that man lives during sleep in a

world of stars, that is, in an astral world, occult science calls that

principle of man which has its real home in that “astral” world and which,

every time it returns to the sleep state, draws renewed force from that

world, the _astral body_.

It should be superfluous to point out that a misunderstanding might easily

arise with regard to these facts; in our time, however, when certain

materialistic modes of representation exist, it becomes quite necessary to

draw attention to them. In quarters where such representation prevails it

may, of course, be said that such a thing as fatigue can be scientifically

investigated only in accordance with physical conditions. Even if the

learned are not yet unanimous with regard to the physical cause of

fatigue, one thing is quite firmly established; we must accept certain

physical processes which lie at the root of this phenomenon. It would be

well, however, if it were recognized that occult science does not in any

way oppose this assertion. It admits everything that is said in this

connection, just as it is admitted that for the physical erection of a

house one brick must be laid upon another, and that when the house is

finished its form and construction can be explained by purely mechanical

laws. But the thought of the architect is necessary for the building of

the house. This cannot be discovered merely by examination of physical

laws.

Just as the thought of the creator of a house stands behind the physical

laws which make it explicable, so too, behind what is affirmed, with

perfect accuracy by physical science, stands that of which occult science

treats. This comparison is of course often put forward when the

justification for a spiritual background to the world is in question; and

it may be considered a trivial one. But what is important in such matters

is not familiarity with certain conceptions, but that the proper weight

should be given them in establishing a fact. One may be prevented from

doing this simply because contrary ideas have so much power over the

judgment that this weight is not felt.

Dreaming is an intermediate state between sleeping and waking. What dream

experiences offer to thoughtful observation is the many-coloured

interweaving of a picture-world, which nevertheless conceals within itself

some sort of law and order. At first this world seems to have an ebb and

flow, often in confused succession. Man in his dream-life is set free from

the laws of waking consciousness which bind him to sense-perception and

the laws of reason. And yet dreams have some sort of mysterious law,

attractive and fascinating to human speculation, and this is the deeper

reason why the beautiful play of imagination lying at the root of artistic

feeling is always apt to be compared to dreaming. We need only recall a

few characteristic dreams to find this corroborated. A man dreams, for

example, that he is driving off a dog that is attacking him. He wakes, and

finds himself in the act of unconsciously pushing off part of the

bedclothes which had been lying on an unaccustomed part of his body and

which had therefore become oppressive. What is it that dream-life makes,

in this instance, out of an incident perceptible to the senses? In the

first place, it leaves in complete unconsciousness what the senses would

perceive in the waking state. But it holds fast to something

essential—namely, the fact that the man wishes to repel something; and

round about this it weaves a metaphorical occurrence.

The pictures, as such, are echoes of waking life. There is something

arbitrary in the way in which they are drawn from it. Every one feels that

the same external cause may conjure up various dream-pictures. But they

give symbolic expression to the feeling that one has something to ward

off. The dream creates symbols; it is a symbolist. Inner experiences can

also be transformed into such dream-symbols. A man dreams that a fire is

crackling beside him; he sees flames in his dream. He wakes up feeling

that he is too heavily covered and has become too warm. The feeling of too

great warmth expresses itself symbolically in the picture. Quite dramatic

experiences may be enacted in a dream. For example, some one dreams that

he is standing on the edge of a precipice. He sees a child running toward

it. The dream makes him experience all the tortures of the thought—if only

the child will not be heedless and fall over into the abyss! He sees it

fall, and hears the dull thud of the body below. He awakes, and perceives

that an object which had been hanging on the wall of the room has become

unfastened, and made a dull sound by its fall. This simple event is

expressed in dream-life by one which unravels itself in exciting pictures.

For the present it is not at all necessary to engage in reflection as to

the reason why, in the last example, the moment of the falling of a heavy

object expresses itself in a series of events which seem to spread

themselves over a certain length of time; it is only necessary to keep in

view that the dream transforms into a picture that which would present

itself to the waking sense-perception.

We see that the moment the senses cease their activity, creative power

asserts itself in man. It is the same creative power which is present in

absolutely dreamless sleep, and at that time recuperates man’s exhausted

forces. For this dreamless sleep to take place, the astral body must be

withdrawn from the etheric and physical bodies. During the dream-state it

is so far separated from the physical body as to have no further

connection with the organs of sense; but it still maintains a certain

connection with the etheric body. The capacity for perceiving the

experiences of the astral body by means of pictures is due to this

connection which it maintains with the etheric body. The moment this

connection also ceases, the pictures sink into the obscurity of

unconsciousness and dreamless sleep has set in.

The arbitrary and often nonsensical element in dream-pictures arises from

the fact that the astral body cannot, on account of its separation from

the sense-organs of the physical body, relate its pictures to the correct

objects and events of the outer environment. It is especially

illuminating, in this matter, to examine a dream in which the ego is, as

it were, split up; as, for example in the case of a person who dreams that

he is a schoolboy and cannot answer the propounded question, while

immediately afterward as the teacher, he himself answers it. The dreamer,

being unable to make use of his physical organs of perception, is not able

to connect both occurrences with himself, as the same individual.

Therefore, in order to recognize himself also as a permanent ego, man must

first be equipped with outer organs of perception. Only when he has

acquired the faculty of self-consciousness without the aid of such organs

will the permanent ego also become perceptible to him outside his physical

body. Clairvoyant consciousness has to acquire this faculty, and the

method of doing so will be treated in detail later in this work.

Even death takes place for no other cause than a change in the connection

of the principles of man’s being. And what is visible to clairvoyant

observation with regard to death may also be seen in its effects in the

manifested world; in this case also, an unbiased judgment will find the

teachings of occult science confirmed by observing external life. The

expression of the invisible in the visible is, however, less evident with

regard to these facts, and there is greater difficulty in feeling the full

importance of that which in the events of outer life endorses the

statements of occult science in this domain. These statements may be

supposed to be mere pictures of fancy, even more readily than many other

things that have been dealt with in this work, if we shut ourselves off

from the knowledge that everywhere in the visible is contained an

unmistakable foreshadowing of the invisible.

On the approach of sleep, only the astral body is released from its

connection with the etheric and physical bodies, which still remain

united, whereas at death the separation of the physical from the etheric

body takes place. The physical body is abandoned to its own forces, and

must therefore disintegrate as a corpse. At death the etheric body finds

itself in a condition in which it has never been before during the time

between birth and death,—with the exception of certain abnormal conditions

to be dealt with later. That is to say, it is now united with the astral

body in the absence of the physical body; for the etheric and astral

bodies do not separate immediately after death: they are held together for

a time by the agency of a force the presence of which can be easily

understood; for were this force not present the etheric body could not

detach itself from the physical body. It would remain bound to the latter,

as is shown in the case of sleep, when the astral body is not able to rend

asunder these two principles of man’s being. This force comes into action

at death. It releases the etheric from the physical body, so that the

former remains united to the astral body. Clairvoyant observation shows

that this connection varies with different people after death. The time of

its duration is measured by days. For the present, this period of time is

mentioned only for the sake of information.

Subsequently, the astral body is also released from the etheric body and

goes on its way alone. During the union of the two bodies, the individual

is in a state which enables him to be aware of the experiences of his

astral body. As long as the physical body is there, the work of

reinforcing the wasted organs has to be begun from without, as soon as the

astral body is liberated from it. When once the physical body is

separated, this work ceases. Nevertheless, the force which was expended in

this way while the man was asleep, continues after death and can now be

applied to some other end. It is now used for making the astral body’s own

experiences perceptible. During his connection with his physical body the

outer world enters man’s consciousness in images; after the body has been

laid aside, that which is experienced by the astral body, when it is no

longer connected with sense organs, with this outer physical world,

becomes perceptible. At first it has no new experiences. Its connection

with the etheric body prevents it from experiencing anything new.

What, however, it does possess, is _memory_ of its past life. The etheric

body still being present causes that past life to appear as a vivid and

comprehensive panorama. That is man’s first experience after death. He

sees his life from birth to death spread out before him in a series of

pictures. Memory is only present in the waking state, when during life man

is united with his physical body, and it is present only to the extent

allowed by that body. Nothing is lost to the soul that has made an

impression on it during life. Were the physical body a perfect instrument

for the purpose, it would be possible, at any moment during life, to

conjure up the whole of the past before the eyes of the soul. At death

there is no longer any obstacle to this. As long as the etheric body

remains, there exists a certain degree of perfection of memory. But this

disappears according to the degree in which the etheric body loses the

form which it possessed while united with the physical body, and which

resembles that body. This is the very reason why the astral body

separates, after a time, from the etheric body. It can remain united with

the latter only so long as the form of the etheric body corresponds with

that of the physical body.

During the period of life between birth and death, separation of the

etheric body occurs only in exceptional cases, and for no longer than a

brief space of time. If, for example, a man exposes one of his limbs to

pressure, part of his etheric body may become separated from the physical

one. We say on such occasion that the limb has “gone to sleep,” and the

peculiar sensation we feel results from the separation of the etheric

body. (Of course a materialistic manner of explanation may here again deny

the invisible behind the visible and say: all this arises merely from the

physical disturbance caused by the pressure.) Clairvoyant vision can see

in such a case, how the corresponding part of the etheric body extends

beyond the physical limb. Now if a man experiences an unusual shock, or

something similar, such a separation of the etheric body from a large part

of the physical body may result, for a short time. That is the case when a

man, for some reason or other, is suddenly brought face to face with

death,—for example when drowning, or threatened by a fatal accident when

mountaineering. What is related by people who have had such experiences

comes, in fact, very near the truth, and can be ratified by clairvoyant

observation. They declare that in such moments their whole lives pass

before their minds as though in a huge memory-picture.

Out of the many examples which might here be adduced, allusion will be

made to one only, because it originates from a man whose mode of thought

would make everything said here about such things seem pure fancy.(5)

Moriz Benedict, the distinguished criminal anthropologist and eminent

investigator in many other realms of natural science, relates in his

_Reminiscences_ an experience of his own,—to the effect that once, when on

the point of drowning in a bath he had seen his whole life pass before his

memory as though in a single picture. If other people describe differently

the pictures seen by them under similar circumstances, and even in such a

way that they seem to have little to do with the events of their past

life, that does not contradict what has been said; for the pictures which

arise in the quiet abnormal condition during the separation from the

physical body are sometimes at first sight, unintelligible in their

relation to life. Correct observation, however, would always recognize

this relationship.

Neither is it an objection if, for example, some one who was once on the

point of drowning did not experience what has been described; for it must

be borne in mind that this can happen only when the etheric body is really

separated from the physical body,—when, moreover, the former is still

united with the astral body. If, through the fright, a loosening of the

etheric and astral bodies also takes place, the experience is not

forthcoming, because then complete unconsciousness ensues, as in dreamless

sleep.

Immediately after death the events of the past appear as though compressed

by the memory into a picture. After its separation from the etheric body,

the astral body pursues its further wanderings alone. It is not difficult

to realize that everything continues to exist which, by means of its

activity, the astral body has made its own during its sojourn in the

physical body. The ego has to a certain extent elaborated the Spirit-Self,

the Life-Spirit, and the Spirit-Man. As far as these are developed, they

do not owe their existence to the organs present in the different bodies,

but to the ego; and it is precisely this ego which needs no outer organs

for perception; nor does it require any such organs in order to retain

possession of what it has made one with itself. It might be objected: “Why

then is there no perception during sleep of the developed Spirit-Self,

Life-Spirit, and Spirit-Man?” For this reason that the ego is chained to

the physical body between birth and death. Even though, during sleep, it

is out of the physical body with the astral body it nevertheless remains

closely connected with the physical body; for the activity of the astral

body is directed toward the physical body. On this account the ego is

relegated to the outer world of sense for its observations, and cannot

receive spiritual revelations in their direct form. Not until death do

these revelations come within reach of the ego, because by means of death

the ego is freed from its connection with the physical and etheric bodies.

Another world may flash upon the consciousness the moment it is withdrawn

from the physical world which during life monopolizes its activity.

Now there are reasons why even at this juncture all connection with the

outer physical world of sense does not cease for man. That is to say,

certain desires remain which sustain the connection. There are desires

which man creates just because he is conscious of his ego as the fourth

principle of his being. These desires and wishes, springing from the

existence of his three lower bodies, can operate only in the external

world, and cease to operate when these bodies are cast aside. Hunger is

caused by the external body; as soon as that external body is no longer

connected with the ego, hunger ceases. Now, had the ego no further desires

than those springing from its own spiritual nature, it might at death draw

full satisfaction from the spiritual world into which it is transplanted.

But life has given it other desires as well. It has kindled in it a

longing for pleasures only to be enjoyed by means of physical organs,

although these pleasures themselves do not originate in the nature of

those organs. It is not only the three bodies which demand gratification

from the physical world, but the ego itself finds pleasures in that world,

for the enjoyment of which there exist no means whatever, in the spiritual

world.

During life the ego has two kinds of desires: those that spring from the

bodies and must therefore be gratified within the bodies, but which must

also come to an end with their disintegration; and those that arise from

the spiritual nature of the ego. As long as the ego lives in the bodies,

those cravings are satisfied by means of the bodily organs. For in the

manifestations of the bodily organs the hidden spiritual element is at

work, and the senses receive something spiritual as well, in everything of

which they are cognizant. That spiritual element is also present after

death, although in a different form. Everything spiritual that the ego

longs for while in the world of sense, it still possesses when the senses

are no longer there.

Now if a third kind of wish were not added to these two, death would mean

only a transition from desires which may be satisfied through the senses

to such as are fulfilled by the revelation of the spiritual world. The

third kind of desire is that which is created by the ego during life in

the sense-world, because it finds pleasure in that world, even when no

spiritual element is revealed in it. The humblest pleasures may be

manifestations of the spirit. The satisfaction afforded a starving

creature by taking food is a manifestation of the spirit, for by taking

food something is thereupon brought about without which, in a certain

sense, the spiritual nature could not develop. But the ego can go beyond

the pleasure, which in this case is the outcome of necessity. It may even

long for the delicious food quite apart from the service rendered to the

spirit by taking nourishment.

It is the same with other things in the sense-world. Desires are created

in this way which would never have appeared in the sense-world if the

human ego had not been incorporated in it. Neither do such desires arise

from the spiritual nature of the ego. The ego must have pleasures of the

senses as long as it lives in the body, even though it be for the very

reason that its own nature is spiritual. For the spirit manifests in

material things, and the ego is enjoying nothing less than spirit when it

surrenders itself to that element in the sense-world which is irradiated

by the light of the spirit. Moreover, it will continue to enjoy this light

even when the senses are no longer the medium through which the spiritual

rays pass. But there is no fulfillment possible in the spiritual world for

desires in which the spirit is not living even in the world of the senses.

When death takes place, the possibility of gratifying desires of this

description is cut off. Pleasure in good things to eat can be induced only

by the presence of the physical organs required for their consumption,—the

palate, tongue, and so forth; but when man has laid aside his physical

body he no longer possesses these organs. If, however, the ego still

craves that kind of pleasure the craving must remain unsatisfied. As long

as this pleasure corresponds to the spiritual need, it is caused only by

the presence of the physical organs; but should it happen that the ego has

created the desire without serving the spirit in so doing, it retains it

after death in the form of a craving which thirsts in vain for

gratification. We can form an idea of what man then experiences only by

imagining some one suffering from burning thirst in a region where, far

and wide, there is no water to be found. This is the predicament of the

ego after death, as long as it retains ungratified desires for the

pleasures of the outer world, and has no organs by means of which to

satisfy them. Of course the burning thirst, serving as a comparison for

the condition of the ego after death, must be thought of as enormously

increased, and it must be imagined as extending to all desires still

existing, for which all possibility of gratification is lacking.

The next condition of the ego consists in freeing itself from this bond of

attraction to the outer world. With regard to this world, it has to attain

purification and liberation. It must be cleansed of all wishes which it

has created while in the body, and which have no native rights in the

spiritual world. As an object is caught and burned up by fire, so is the

world of desire, described above, broken up and destroyed after death. A

vista is then opened into that world which occult science calls the

“consuming fire” of the spirit. This fire seizes upon desires of a sensual

nature which however are not rooted in the spirit. Revelations of this

kind which occult science is bound to make with regard to such events may

appear hopeless and terrible. It may seem a fearful thing that a hope for

the realization of which sense-organs are required, should after death be

transformed into despair, and that a wish that can be fulfilled only by

the physical world should be changed into torturing deprivation. Yet we

can hold such an opinion only as long as we fail to realize that the

wishes and desires seized by the “consuming fire” after death do not, in a

higher sense, represent forces beneficial to life but destructive to it.

By means of these forces the ego binds itself to the sense-world more

closely than is necessary, in order to draw from it all the experience it

requires. For the sense-world is a manifestation of the hidden and

spiritual world which lies behind it; and the ego could never attain

spiritual happiness through the bodily senses, which are the only form in

which the spiritual can be manifested, unless it utilized the senses to

seek the spiritual element in sense-experience. Nevertheless, the ego

loses sight of the true spiritual reality in the physical world to such an

extent that it experiences sensual desires irrespective of the needs of

the spirit. If sense pleasure, as the expression of the spirit, serves to

raise and develop the ego, any pleasure which is not an expression of the

spirit warps and impoverishes it. Even though such a desire finds the

means of its gratification in the sense-world, still its destructive

effect upon the ego is thereby in no way diminished; but it is not until

after death that its disastrous effects become apparent.

For this reason a man may, by gratifying such desires, create, during his

life, new and similar desires, wholly unaware that he is enveloping

himself in a “consuming fire.” What becomes visible to him after death is

only what already surrounded him during his life, and by thus becoming

visible it at once appears in its salutary and beneficent effect. A human

being who loves another is certainly not attracted merely by that part of

him which is perceptible to the physical senses—the only part which is cut

off from observation after death—but after death, just that part of the

dear one then becomes visible for the perception of which the physical

organs were only the means. The one thing, in fact, which would prevent a

man from beholding his friend clearly is the presence of desires which can

be satisfied only by means of physical organs. Unless these desires are

extinguished, he can have no conscious perception of his friend after

death. When looked at in this light, the terrible and hopeless character

which after-death experiences might assume for man, according to the

descriptions given by occult science, becomes changed into one which is

thoroughly satisfying and consoling.

Now the first after-death experiences differ entirely in yet another

respect from those during life. During the time of purification man lives,

as it were, backwards. He lives over again the whole span of his life

since birth; beginning with the events immediately preceding his death,

and reversing the order of his experiences, he goes through them again

until he reaches back to childhood. In this process he sees with

spiritually enlightened eyes all those things which were not inspired by

the spiritual nature of the ego, with the difference that he now

experiences these things in reverse order.

For instance, a man who died in his sixtieth year, and who at the age of

forty had, in an outburst of anger, caused some one either physical or

mental pain, will go through this experience again when, on the return

journey of existence after death, he reaches that point in his fortieth

year; but now he does not experience the satisfaction which his attack had

afforded him during life; instead, he experiences the pain which he

inflicted upon the other man. It may at once be seen, however, that

whatever pain he feels in the after-death experience is caused by a desire

of the ego arising only from the outer physical world; in reality the ego

does not only injure another by the indulgence of such a desire, but it

also injures itself; although the injury to itself is not apparent during

life.

After death, however, the whole of the harmful world of desires becomes

visible to the ego, which then feels attracted toward every being or

object which had kindled the desire, in order that this may be destroyed

in the “consuming fire” by the same means that created it. When man, on

his return journey, reaches the moment of his birth, then only have all

such desires been purged in the purifying flames, and henceforth nothing

remains to hinder him from devoting himself entirely to the spiritual

world. He enters upon a new phase of existence. In the same way that he

laid aside his physical body at death and, soon afterward, his etheric

body, so does that part of his astral body dissolve which can only live in

the consciousness of the outer physical world.

Occult science, therefore, recognizes three corpses,—the physical,

etheric, and astral. The period at which the last is cast off by man is

marked by the time of purification, which amounts to about one third of

the time elapsed between birth and death. The reason why this is so can

only be explained later, when the course of human life is examined from

the standpoint of occult science. To clairvoyant observation, astral

corpses, which have been cast off by human beings passing from the state

of purification into a higher existence, are constantly visible in the

world surrounding man, in exactly the same way that physical corpses, in

places inhabited by men, are apparent to physical observation.(6)

After purification an entirely new state of consciousness begins for the

ego. Whereas before death the outer perceptions must flow to the ego, in

order that upon these perceptions the light of consciousness might be able

to fall, so now in like manner from within, streams a world which attains

consciousness. The ego is living in this world also between birth and

death; only then this world is clothed in the manifestations of the

senses. It is only when the ego, freed from all the ties of sense, turns

inward to behold its own “holy of holies,” that its true innermost nature,

which had hitherto been obscured by the senses, is revealed to it. In the

same way that the ego is recognized inwardly before death, so, after death

and purification, is the spiritual life inwardly revealed to it in all its

fulness. This revelation really takes place immediately after the etheric

body is laid aside; but it is obscured by the dark cloud of desires turned

toward the outer world. It is as though a world of spiritual bliss were

invaded by black demoniacal phantoms, caused by those desires which are

being destroyed by the “consuming fire.” Indeed, these desires are not

mere phantoms, but real entities, which become apparent immediately after

the ego is deprived of physical organs, and is thus able to discern those

things which are of a spiritual nature. These entities have the appearance

of distorted caricatures of the objects with which the individual had

formerly become acquainted through his senses.

Clairvoyant observation shows that this place of purging fire is peopled

by beings whose appearance may well seem horrifying and painful to

spiritual vision, whose pleasure seems to consist in destruction, and

whose passions impel them to evil-doing of such a description that the

evil of the physical world seems insignificant in comparison. Whatever

desires of the kind described above are brought into that world by man,

are looked upon by these beings as food, by means of which their powers

are continually strengthened and invigorated.

The picture thus sketched of a world imperceptible to the senses may seem

less incredible if we look with an unprejudiced eye on part of the animal

world. What is a fierce, devouring wolf, from a spiritual point of view?

What does it reveal to us through that which our senses perceive? Nothing

else than a soul that lives in desires, and acts by desire. The external

form of the wolf may be called an embodiment of those desires; and if man

had no organs with which to perceive that form, if its desires appeared

invisibly in their effects,—if, therefore, a force invisible to the eye

were prowling about, and might be the cause of all that happened through

the visible wolf,—he would still be forced to recognize the existence of a

creature corresponding to it. Now the beings of the region of purifying

fire are not visible to the physical eye, but to clairvoyant sight only;

but their effects are clearly apparent. They bring about the destruction

of the ego when it gives them nourishment. These effects are clearly

visible if what began as a pleasure leads to excess and debauchery.

For even what is perceptible to the senses would attract the ego only in

so far as the pleasure had its root in the ego’s own nature. The animal is

prompted by desire for that in the outer world which its three bodies

crave. Man has higher enjoyments, because to the three principles of his

bodily nature is added the fourth, the ego. But if the ego seeks a

gratification which does not tend toward the maintenance and development

of its nature but to its destruction, then such a craving can be neither

the effect of its three bodies, nor that of its own nature, but can only

be caused by beings, concealed from the senses in their true form, but

able furtively to approach that higher nature of the ego, and excite in it

desires which, though it is cut off from the senses, can still be

satisfied only by means of sense-organs.

For there are beings which feed on passions and desires of a worse kind

than those of an animal nature, because they do not expend themselves on

objects of the senses but seize upon the spiritual element and drag it

down to a sensual level. Therefore the forms of such beings are more

hideous, more horrible, to spiritual sight than are the forms of the

fiercest animals, in which after all only passions rooted in the senses

are incarnated. And the destructive forces of these beings immeasurably

surpass any destructive rage existing in the animal world as perceived by

the senses. Occult science must in this way enlarge man’s view so as to

include a world of beings standing, in a certain respect, lower than the

visibly destructive animal world.

When man has passed through the world of purification after death, he

finds himself in a world the contents of which are spiritual, and which

also creates in him longings which can be satisfied only by spiritual

things. But even now man distinguishes between that which properly belongs

to his ego and what forms the environment of that ego—one might say, its

spiritual outer world. Only that, of which he becomes sensible in this

environment, pours in upon him in the same way that the perception of his

own ego poured in upon him during his sojourn in the body. Whereas man’s

environment in the life between birth and death speaks to him through his

bodily organs, after death when all the bodies are laid aside the language

of his new environment penetrates directly into the innermost sanctuary of

the ego. Man’s whole environment is now filled with beings of a like

nature with his ego, for only an ego has access to an ego. Just as

minerals, plants, and animals surround man in the sense-world, and compose

it, so, after death, is he surrounded by a world composed of beings of a

spiritual nature.

Yet he takes something with him into this world which is not part of his

environment there; it is what the ego has experienced in the world of the

senses. First of all, the sum of these experiences appeared, as a

comprehensive memory-picture, immediately after death, while the etheric

body was still united to the ego. The etheric body itself is then, indeed,

laid aside, but something of the memory-picture remains with the ego as an

everlasting possession. Just as though an extract or essence were made out

of all the events and experiences which a man encounters between birth and

death, so might we describe that which is left behind. It is the spiritual

product of life, its fruit. This product is of a spiritual nature. It

contains everything spiritual which is revealed through the senses, yet

this spiritual treasure could not have been gathered save by life in the

sense-world.

This spiritual fruit of the sense-world becomes after death the ego’s own

inner world. With it the ego enters a world, which consists of beings who

reveal themselves in the same and only manner in which man in his

innermost depths, can become conscious of his own ego. As a plant seed,

which is the essence of the whole plant, grows only when buried in another

world, the earth, so now that which the ego brings from the sense-world

gradually unfolds itself as a seed under the influence of the spiritual

environment in which it has been planted. Occult science can, of course,

only portray in pictures what happens in this “spirit-world;” still those

pictures present themselves as absolute reality to the clairvoyant’s

sight, when he investigates invisible happenings, corresponding to those

which are visible to the physical eye. Whatever of that world can be

described, may be visualized by comparison with the world of the senses

for although it is of a purely spiritual nature, it nevertheless resembles

the physical world in certain respects. Just as, for instance, in the

physical world, a color appears when some object impresses the eye, so in

the spirit-world a color appears to the ego when a being acts upon it. But

this latter phenomenon is perceived in the same manner as the ego can be

perceived inwardly between birth and death. It is not as though the light

outside fell within upon the man, but as though another being directly

affected the ego, causing the latter to picture this influence in a

colour-form.

Thus do all things in the spiritual environment of the ego find expression

in a world of coloured rays. As their origin is of a different kind, it

goes without saying that these colours of the spiritual world are also of

a somewhat different character from physical colours. A similar thing is

true of other impressions received by man in the world of sense. But it is

the sounds of the spiritual world that most nearly resemble the

impressions of the sense-world; and the more at home a man becomes in the

spiritual world, the more he realizes it as a life of self-determined

motion, which may be compared with the sounds, and the harmony of sounds,

of the physical world. Only he does not feel the tones as something

approaching an organ from outside, but as a force streaming forth into the

outer world through his ego. He feels the sound just as in the sense-world

he feels his own speech or song, only he knows that in the spiritual world

these sounds, streaming out from him, are at the same time the

manifestations of other beings, who are pouring themselves into the world

through him.

A still higher manifestation takes place in the spirit-land when the sound

becomes the “spiritual word.” Then there streams through the ego not only

the pulsing life of another spiritual being, but such a being itself

communicates its own inner nature to the ego; and then, when the spiritual

word streams through the ego, two beings live in one another, without that

separating element which every companionship in the sense-world must carry

with it. And this is really the nature of the communion of the ego with

other spiritual beings after death.

There are three regions in the spiritual world, which may be compared to

the three divisions of the physical sense-world. The first region is in a

certain respect the “solid land” of the spiritual world, the second the

“sphere of ocean and river,” and the third the “atmospheric region.” That

which assumes physical form on earth, so that it can be perceived by

physical organs, in accordance with its spiritual nature, is to be seen in

the first region of the spirit-world. There, for instance, may be seen the

force that fashions the form of a crystal. Only what is there revealed is

the opposite of that which appears in the sense-world. In that world the

space which is filled by a mass of rock appears to spiritual sight as a

kind of hollow space; but round about this hollow is seen the force which

fashions the form of the rock. The colour of the rock in the sense-world

appears in the spiritual world as its complementary colour; thus a red

stone is green when seen from the spirit-world, a green stone is red, and

so on. Other qualities also appear in their opposites. Just as stone,

masses of earth, and like materials make up the solid land—the continental

region of the world of sense—so do the structures described above compose

the solid land of the spiritual world.

All that is life in the sense-world belongs to the ocean-region of the

spiritual world. To the physical eye, life appears in its effects in

plants, animals, and men. To spiritual vision, life is a flowing

substance, like oceans and rivers, diffused through the spirit-world. A

still better comparison is that of the circulation of the blood in the

body; for whereas seas and rivers are seen to be irregularly distributed

in the physical world, a certain regularity in distribution of the flowing

life reigns in the spirit-world, as in the circulation of the blood. This

“flowing life” is simultaneously heard as spiritual sound.

The third region of the spirit-world is its “atmosphere.” What is known in

the physical world as “feeling” is also present there, permeating

everything like the air on the earth. We must imagine a rushing sea of

feeling. Pain and sorrow, joy and rapture, flow through this region, like

wind and storms in the atmosphere of the physical world. Imagine a battle

fought on earth. There confront one another not merely human forms, as

seen by the physical eye, but feelings opposed to feelings, passions to

passions; pain fills the battlefield just as much as do the forms of men.

All that is seething there of passion, pain, and the joy of victory is not

only perceptible in its effects as revealed to the physical senses; it may

be seen with the spiritual senses as an atmospheric process in the

spirit-world. Such an event in the spiritual world is like a thunderstorm

in the physical, and the perception of these events may be compared to the

hearing of words in the physical world. For this reason it is said that as

the air envelops and permeates earthly things, so do “interweaving

spiritual words” pervade the beings and events of the spirit-world.

And still further observations are possible in this spirit-world. What may

be compared to light and heat in the physical world is there too. That

which permeates everything in the spirit-world, as earthly things and

beings are permeated by heat, is the world of thought itself. There,

however, thoughts must be regarded as living and independent beings. What

is understood by man in the manifested world as thought is but a shadow of

what lives as a thought-being in the spirit-world. Imagine thought, as it

now exists in man, raised out of him and as an active, energetic being,

endowed with an inner life of its own, and you have a feeble illustration

of that which fills the fourth region of the spirit-world. In the physical

world between birth and death what man understands as thought is but the

manifestation of the thought-world as it is able to mould itself by means

of the instruments afforded by the bodies. All such thoughts cherished by

man, that carry with them an enrichment of the physical world have their

origin in this region. By such thoughts are meant not only the ideas of

great inventors and men of genius; but those ideas found in every

individual which he does not owe solely to the external world, but through

which he, so to speak, transforms that world.

In so far as feelings and passions are concerned, the cause of which lies

in the outer world, these feelings are perceptible in the third region of

the spirit-world; but everything which so lives in a man’s soul as to make

him a creator,—influencing, transforming and fertilizing his

environment,—is manifest in its original and intrinsic form in the fourth

division of the spirit-world.

That which exists in the fifth region may be compared to physical light.

In its archetypal form it is wisdom in manifestation. Beings who diffuse

wisdom throughout their surroundings, as the sun pours light on physical

beings, belong to this realm. Whatever is illuminated by their wisdom

stands forth in its true meaning and significance for the spiritual world,

just as the colour of a physical object is seen when the light falls upon

it. There are still higher regions of the spirit-world, which will be

described later in this work.

Into this world the ego is plunged after death, together with the results

it carries with it out of physical life. And these results are still

united with that part of the astral body which is not cast off at the end

of the time of purification. In fact, only that part falls away which, in

its desires and wishes, turned, after death, toward physical life. The

plunging of the ego into the spiritual world, with what it has acquired in

the physical world, may be compared to the planting of a grain of seed in

the soil in which it can mature. As the grain of seed draws substances and

forces from its surroundings in order that it may develop into a new

plant, so the condition of the ego, when implanted in the spiritual world,

is one of development and growth.

Hidden within that which is perceived by an organ, there lies the force

whereby that same organ was formed. The eye perceives light; but without

light there would be no eye. Creatures spending their lives in darkness do

not develop organs of sight. Thus the whole of man’s physical body is

created out of the hidden forces of that of which he becomes conscious

through his bodily organs. The physical body is built up by the forces of

the physical world, the etheric body by those of the life-world, and the

astral body is formed out of the astral world. Now when the ego is

transferred to the spirit-world it is met by just those forces which

remain hidden to physical perception.

What appear to man’s view in the first region of the spirit-world are the

spiritual beings that are always surrounding him, and that have built up

his physical body. Thus in the physical world man perceives nothing but

the manifestations of those spiritual forces which have formed his own

physical body. After death he is in the very midst of these moulding

forces, which, previously hidden, now appear to him in their true forms.

In the same way, in the second region, he is in the midst of the forces by

which his etheric body was organized, and in the third region there pour

in upon him the potencies out of which his astral body was formed. The

higher regions of the spirit-world also direct toward him those forces

from which he was built in the life between birth and death.

These denizens of the spiritual world are at present working in

co-operation with that which man has brought with him as the product of

his last life, which now becomes a germ; and through this co-operation man

is, first of all, built up anew as a spiritual being. The physical and

etheric bodies are still joined in sleep; the astral body and the ego are,

it is true, outside them, but still connected with them. Whatever

influences the astral body and the ego receive, in such a state, from the

spiritual world, can serve only to recuperate the forces exhausted during

the waking state.

But when the physical and etheric bodies have been laid aside, and, after

the time of purification, also those parts of the astral body still bound

by their desires to the physical world, then everything pouring in upon

the ego from the spiritual world is not only a reforming but a

reorganizing force. After a certain period, to be dealt with in later

chapters, the ego again gathers round it an astral body which will be able

to live in such an etheric and physical body as man possesses between

birth and death. A man can once more pass through birth and renew his

earthly existence, in which, however, will be incorporated the results of

his former life. Until the rebuilding of his astral body, man is a witness

of his reconstruction. As the powers of the spirit-world are not

manifested to him through external organs, but from within outward, like

his own ego in self-consciousness, he is able to observe that

manifestation as long as his attention is not turned to an outer world of

perception. But from the moment that the astral body is reconstituted, his

attention is turned outward; the astral body once more craves an outer

etheric and physical body. It is thus turned away from the inner

revelations. For this reason there is now an intermediate state, during

which man is immersed in unconsciousness. Consciousness can emerge again

in the physical world only when the necessary organs for physical

perception are formed.

During this period, in which consciousness illuminated by inner perception

ceases, the new etheric body begins to link itself to the astral and man

can once again enter a physical body. In the linking together of these two

bodies only such an ego could consciously take part as had of itself

created the Life-Spirit and Spirit-Man out of the creative forces, hidden

in the etheric and physical bodies. Until the individual has evolved as

far as this, beings further advanced than himself in evolution must guide

this linking together. The astral body is guided, by such beings as these,

to parents through whom it may be endowed with the appropriate etheric and

physical bodies. Before the attachment of the etheric body takes place,

something of very great importance happens to the man who is about to

re-enter physical existence.

In his former life he created disturbing forces, which were revealed to

him on the journey retraced after death. Let us again take an example. He

caused some pain in an outburst of anger in the fortieth year of his

former life. After death, the other’s pain came before him as a force

which had interfered with the evolution of his ego. It is likewise with

all such events of his former life. On his re-entrance into physical life

these hindrances to his evolution confront the ego anew. As, on the

threshold of death, a sort of memory-picture arose before the human ego,

so there now arises a vision of the life approaching. Again he sees a

picture, this time showing all the obstacles which he has to clear away,

if he is to advance in evolution. And what he thus sees becomes the

starting-point for forces which he must bring with him into his new life.

The picture of the pain he has caused the other man becomes a force which

impels the ego, on entering life again, to make amends for this pain. Thus

the previous life has a determining effect on the new one. The deeds of

the new life are in a certain way caused by those of the former life. This

connection, following the law, between an earlier and later existence is

to be looked upon as the “Law of Destiny”; it has become usual to

designate it “Karma,” a term borrowed from oriental wisdom.

The building up of a new set of bodies, however, is not the only task

incumbent upon man between death and a new birth. While this building up

is taking place, man lives outside the physical world. That world,

however, continues to evolve during this time. The surface of the earth

changes in comparatively short periods of time. What aspect did those

regions which are now occupied by Germany bear a few thousand years ago?

When man appears on earth in a new existence, the earth rarely looks the

same as it did at the time of his last incarnation. During his absence

from the earth all sorts of changes have occurred. Now hidden forces are

also at work in this alteration of the face of the earth, proceeding from

that very world in which man finds himself after death; and he himself

must co-operate with these forces in the transformation of the earth. He

can do so only under the direction of Higher Beings until, by the creation

of his Life-Spirit and Spirit-Man, he has acquired a clear perception of

the connection between the spiritual and its expression in the physical.

But he takes part in the transformation of earthly conditions. It may be

said that during the period between death and a new birth, man so

transforms the earth that its conditions are in keeping with what he has

evolved in himself. If we look at a given place on the earth at a definite

moment, and see it again after a long lapse of time, under entirely

changed conditions, the forces which have wrought the change have

proceeded from those who are now dead. And it is this kind of connection

which exists between them and the earth until the time of rebirth.

Clairvoyant observation sees in all physical existence the manifestation

of a hidden spiritual element. To physical observation it is the light of

the sun, climatic changes, and so on, that effect the transformation of

the earth, but to clairvoyance it is the force of the dead that acts in

the rays of light which fall on the plant from the sun. The clairvoyant

sees how human souls hover about plants, how they change the surface of

the earth. Not alone upon himself nor upon the preparations for his own

new earthly existence, is man’s attention bestowed after death.—No, he is

called upon then to work upon the outer world, just as he is in life

between the time of his birth and death.

Not only does the life of man affect the conditions of the physical world

from the spirit-land; but vice versa, activity during physical existence

has its effects in the spiritual world. An example may explain what

happens in this respect. A bond of love exists between mother and child.

This love arises from a mutual attraction caused by the forces of the

sense-world. But in the course of time it changes. A spiritual tie

gradually grows out of the sense-bond, and this spiritual tie is not

created for the physical world only but for the spirit-world as well. The

same applies to other ties. Whatever is created in the physical world by

spiritual entities continues to exist in the spiritual world. Friends who

were closely united in life belong to each other in spirit-land also, and

when their bodies are laid aside they are in much more intimate communion

than during physical life. For as spirits they exist for each other in the

same way as, in the above description, spiritual beings reveal themselves

to others by inner manifestation; and a tie created between two persons

brings them together again in a new life. Thus in the truest sense of the

word we may speak of finding one another again after death.

What has once happened to a man between birth and death and from then till

a new birth, repeats itself. Man returns to earth again and again when the

fruit he has earned in a physical life has ripened in the spirit-world. It

is not, however, a case of repetition without beginning or end; but man

has emerged out of other forms of existence and passed into those which

run their course in the manner just described, and he will again in the

future pass into other forms. A viewpoint of these transition stages will

be gained when the evolution of the universe in connection with man is

subsequently considered from the standpoint of occult science.

The occurrences between death and a new birth are of course still more

concealed from outer sense-observation than is the spiritual foundation

underlying manifested life between birth and death. This sense-observation

can see only the effects of that portion of the hidden world where they

impinge upon physical existence. With regard to this the question must

arise whether man, on entering this life at birth, brings with him any

results from the events described by occult science as having taken place

between his last death and re-birth. If one finds the shell of a snail in

which there is no trace of the animal he will, in spite of that, recognize

that this snailshell was formed by the activity of an animal, and he

cannot believe that the shell constructed a form for itself, by means of

mere physical forces.

In the same way one who studies a man during life, and finds something in

him which cannot be due to _this_ life, might reasonably admit that it

arises from what occult science describes, if by doing so an explanatory

light is thrown on what is otherwise inexplicable.

Here, too, the unseen causes might appear intelligible to rational

sense-observation from their visible effects, and whoever observes life

with absolute impartiality will find that, with every fresh observation,

this appears to be more and more true. The important question, however, is

how to find the right point of view from which to observe their effects in

life. Where, for example, are the effects of that to be found which occult

science describes as incidents of the time of purification? How are the

effects of the experience which, according to occult investigations, man

undergoes in purely spiritual regions, manifested after this time of

purification?

Problems enough press upon every serious and profound student of life in

this domain. We see one man born in want and misery, endowed only with

inferior abilities, so that on account of these facts, which are incident

to his birth, he appears predestined to a miserable existence. Another,

from the first moment of his life, is tended and cherished by loving hands

and hearts; brilliant talents are unfolded in him; his gifts point to a

successful and satisfactory career. Two opposite views may be taken when

met by such questions as these. The one will adhere to what the senses

perceive and what the understanding, relying on these senses, is able to

comprehend. This view will admit no problem in the fact that one man is

born fortunate and the other unfortunate. Even if the word “chance” is not

used, there will be no question of thinking that such things are brought

about through any law of cause and effect. And with regard to talents and

abilities, such a view will consider them as “inherited” from parents,

grandparents, and other ancestors. It refuses to seek the causes in

spiritual events which the man himself met with before birth—regardless of

heredity—and by means of which he shaped his talents and abilities.

Another view would find no satisfaction in such an interpretation. It

would assert that even in the manifested world nothing happens in definite

places or surroundings without our having to presuppose causes for the

event in question. Even though in many cases such causes have not yet been

investigated, they are there. An Alpine flower does not grow in the

lowlands. Its nature has something which associates it with Alpine

regions. Just so must there be something in a man which determines his

birth in a certain environment. Causes belonging to the physical world

alone are not sufficient to account for this. To a more profound thinker

such an explanation appears in somewhat the same light as when one has

dealt another a blow, the motive for which is not attributed to the

feelings of the one but is to be explained by the physical mechanism of

the hand.

Any explanation of abilities and talents solely by “heredity” is to such a

viewpoint equally unsatisfactory. It is true one may say: “See how certain

talents are inherited in families.” During two and a half centuries

musical talents were inherited by members of the Bach family. Eight

mathematicians sprang from the Bernoulli family, to some of whom quite

different occupations were assigned in their childhood; but the inherited

talents always drove them to the family vocation. It may be further

pointed out how, by an exact investigation of the line of ancestry of a

person in one way or another the gifts of this person have shown

themselves in the forefathers, and only represent the sum of inherited

talents. Whoever holds the latter of the two views above indicated will be

sure not to let such facts pass unnoticed, but to _him_ they cannot mean

the same as they do to one who relies for his interpretation on the events

of the world of sense alone. The former will point out that inherited

talents can no more of themselves, combine into a complete personality

than can the metal parts of a watch fit themselves together. And if

objection is made that the co-operation of the parents may possibly

produce the combination of talents,—that this as it were, takes the place

of the watchmaker,—he will reply: “Look impartially at what is new in

every child-personality, at that which is absolutely new; that cannot come

from the parents, for the simple reason that it does not exist in them.”

Inaccurate thinking may create much confusion in this domain. It is still

worse when those who hold the second view are set down by the supporters

of the first as opponents of what is, after all, borne out by “ascertained

facts.” But it may well be that the latter have not the slightest

intention of denying the truth or value of those facts. For instance, they

see that a definite mental aptitude or predisposition is “inherited” in a

family, and that certain gifts accumulated and combined in one descendant

result in a remarkable personality. They are perfectly willing to

acquiesce when it is said that the most celebrated name seldom stands at

the beginning but at the end of a line of descent. But it should not be

taken amiss if they are compelled to form very different opinions on the

subject from those of people who are determined to accept nothing but

material evidence. To the latter it may be said that it is true a man

shows the characteristics of his ancestors, because the “spirit-soul”,

which enters upon physical existence at birth, draws its bodily substance

from that which heredity bestows on it. But this says nothing more than

that a being shows the peculiarities of the body into which it has

descended.

It is no doubt a singular—a trivial—comparison, but the unprejudiced

person will not deny its justification, when one says that a human being,

who shows the qualities of his forefathers, proves the origin of the

personal qualities of that human being as little as the fact that man is

wet because he has fallen into the water, proves something regarding his

inner nature. And it may further be said that if the most celebrated name

stands at the end of a line of family descent, it shows that the bearer of

that name needed that particular ancestry to build the body necessary for

the expression of his whole personality. But it is no proof that his

actual personal qualities were transmitted to him: such a statement is, on

the contrary, opposed to sound logic. If personal gifts were inherited,

they would be found at the beginning of a line of descent,(7) and starting

from that point be transmitted to the descendants. As, however, they stand

at the end, it is evident that they are _not_ transmitted.

Now it is not to be denied that those who speak of a spiritual causality

in life have contributed no less to bringing about confusion of thought.

Far too much generalizing and vague discussion comes from this quarter. To

say that a man’s personality is a combination of inherited characteristics

may certainly be compared with the assertion that the metal parts of a

watch have fitted themselves together. It must also be admitted that, with

regard to many assertions about a spiritual world, it is as though some

one said that the metal parts of a watch cannot put themselves together in

such a way as to enable the hands to move forward; some intelligence must

therefore be present to effect this forward movement. In face of such an

assertion, _he_ certainly builds on a far better foundation who says: “Oh!

I care nothing for your ‘mystical’ beings who move the hands forward. What

I want to know is the mechanical construction by means of which the

forward movement of the hands is achieved.” It is by no means a question

of merely knowing that behind a mechanism, a watch for instance, there is

an intelligence (the watchmaker); it can only be of importance to know the

ideas in the watchmaker’s mind which preceded the construction of the

watch. These thoughts may be rediscovered in the mechanism.

Mere dreaming and imagining about the supersensual only result in

confusion, for they are not calculated to satisfy opponents. The latter

are right in saying that such general allusions to super-physical beings

are not at all conducive to an understanding of facts. Of course, such

opponents might also say the same of the _exact_ statements of occult

science. But, in that case, it may be pointed out that the effects of

hidden spiritual causes are seen in manifested life. Let us assume for the

moment that what occult science asserts, proven by observation, is

correct:—that a man has gone through a time of purification after death,

and that during this period he has experienced in his soul how a certain

deed, performed by him in a former life, was a hindrance to his

progressive evolution. While he was undergoing this experience, the

impulse arose in him to make amends for that deed. He brings this impulse

with him into a new life and its presence produces a tendency in his

nature which draws him into conditions rendering the amendment

possible.—Taking into consideration a number of such impulses, we have the

cause for a man’s being born into an environment corresponding to his

destiny.

We may deal in the same way with another assumption. Let us again accept

as correct the assertion of occult science that the fruits of a past life

are incorporated in man’s spiritual germ, and that the spirit-land in

which man finds himself, between death and a new life, is the region in

which these fruits ripen, and are transformed into talents and

capabilities which will appear in a new life and will form the personality

so that it appears as the effect of what was gained in a former life. It

will become evident to any one who accepts these hypotheses and, bearing

them in mind, surveys life impartially, that while, by their means, all

material facts may be appreciated in their full truth and significance, at

the same time everything becomes intelligible which, if only material

facts were relied upon, must forever remain incomprehensible to one whose

attention is turned toward the spiritual world. And more important still,

that illogical reasoning of the kind indicated above will disappear,

namely,—that because the most distinguished name in a line of descent

stands at the end of it, its bearer must have inherited his gifts. Life

becomes logically comprehensible through the supersensual facts

ascertained by occult science.

Yet another weighty objection may be raised by the conscientious seeker

after truth who desires to find his way to facts and has no experience of

his own in the supersensual world. It may be urged that it is inadmissible

to accept the existence of facts, of any kind, simply because by means of

them something may be explained which is otherwise unintelligible. Such an

objection is meaningless to one who knows the corresponding facts from

supersensual experience, and in later chapters of this book the path will

be indicated that may be followed in order to gain knowledge not only of

the spiritual facts herein described, but also of the law of spiritual

causation as a personal experience. Any one, however, who is not willing

to enter upon this path may find the above objection important; and what

can be said against it is also of value to one who is resolved to follow

the path indicated. For if it is received in the right spirit, it is the

very best preliminary step that can be taken on this path. It is perfectly

true that one ought not to accept a statement about which one is otherwise

ignorant merely because, by means of it, something otherwise inexplicable

can be explained, but in the case of alleged spiritual facts the matter is

different. If such statements are accepted, the intellectual consequence

is not only that, by their means, life becomes intelligible, but that

through admitting these hypotheses into the thought-world, experiences of

quite a new kind are induced.

Take the following case. Something befalls a man which causes him

extremely painful sensations. He may meet the situation in one of two

ways. He may submit to the occurrence as something affecting him

painfully, and abandon himself to the painful sensation, even becoming

absorbed in his grief; or he may meet it in another way. He may say: “It

is really I myself who in a former life set the force in motion which has

brought me into contact with this thing. I have really brought it on

myself.” He may then awaken in himself all the feelings which such a

thought brings in its train. It goes without saying that the thought must

be entertained with perfect seriousness, and with the utmost possible

force, if it is to have such consequences in the life of sensation and

feeling. One who succeeds in this will meet with an experience which may

be best illustrated by a comparison. Let us suppose that two men have each

a stick of sealing wax in his hand. One begins reflecting upon its inner

nature. These reflections may perhaps be very wise, but if the “inner

nature” did not show itself in any way, some one might easily retort:

“That is all imagination.” The other, however, rubs the sealing wax with a

woolen rag, and then shows that it attracts small particles. There is an

important difference between the thoughts which have passed through the

first man’s head and his reflections, and those of the second. The

thoughts of the first man had no actual result; those of the second have

called out a hidden force, consequently something real.

The same thing happens with regard to the thoughts of a man in whose mind

the idea arises that in a former life he has set going within himself the

force which causes him to experience a certain event. The mere conception

of this stirs up strength within him which enables him to face the event

in quite a different manner from that in which he would have met it

without entertaining such an idea. It dawns upon him that an event which

he would otherwise have looked upon as an accident was really a necessity

and he will immediately see that he had the right thought, because this

thought had the power to reveal the facts to him. If such inner processes

are repeated they will grow into a source of inner power and thus prove

their truth by their fruitfulness; and little by little, this truth is

found to be powerfully effective. Such processes have a salutary effect on

body, soul, and spirit,—nay, they help life forward in every way. Man

becomes aware that in this manner he takes the right position with regard

to life’s continuity; whereas, by taking into consideration only the one

life between birth and death, he is the victim of a delusion.

Such an entirely inner proof of spiritual causation can of course be

acquired only by each one for himself, in his own inner life. But it is in

every one’s power to have it. Those who have not acquired it certainly

cannot judge of its convincing force; but those who have acquired it can

scarcely entertain any further doubt in the matter. And there is no reason

for surprise that this should be so. It is only natural that what is so

wholly bound up with the constitution of man’s inmost being and

personality can be adequately proven only by inner experience. On the

other hand, it cannot be alleged that because such a matter corresponds to

inner experience it must therefore be settled by every one for himself,

and that it is no subject for occult science. It is certain that every one

must undergo the experience for himself, just as each must see for himself

the proof of a mathematical problem. But the path by which such an

experience may be gained is open to all, just as the method of proving a

mathematical problem is available to every one.

It ought not to be denied—apart from clairvoyant observation of

course—that by means of the force producing power of the corresponding

thoughts, the just cited proof is the only one which stands firm before

all unprejudiced logic. All other considerations are no doubt very

important, but in all of them there will be something on which an opponent

might seize as a point of attack. Surely one who has acquired a fairly

impartial way of looking at things will find something in the possibility

and actual fact of man’s education, which has the power of logical proof

that a spiritual being is struggling for existence within the sheath of

the body. He will compare animals with man and say to himself that at the

birth of the former there appears certain definite qualities and

capacities as something, decisive in itself, which plainly shows how it

has been designed by heredity and how it will unfold itself in the outer

world. We see how a young chicken carries out life’s functions in the

appointed way from its birth; but by means of education something comes

into touch with man’s inner life which is independent of any connection

with his heredity, and he may be in a position to assimilate the effects

of such external influences. The educator knows that such influences are

met by forces coming from man’s inner nature. If this is not the case, all

instruction and training are meaningless. The unprejudiced educator finds

the boundary line between inherited talents and those inner forces of the

man himself which shine through them and originate in former lives, to be

very sharply marked. It is true, we cannot bring forward such weighty

proofs for things of this kind as we can for certain physical facts, by

means of scales; but then these are just the intimate things of life, and

one who has the power to appreciate such impalpable proofs will find them

convincing—even more convincing than palpable reality.

That animals may be trained, and thus, to a certain extent, acquire

qualities and capacities by education, is no objection to one who is able

to see reality, for apart from the fact that transitional stages are met

with all over the world, the results of training an animal by no means

fade away with its individual existence, as is the case with a man. What

is more, the fact has been emphasized that faculties acquired by domestic

animals through intercourse with man are transmitted, that is to say,

continue in the species, not in the individual. Darwin describes how dogs

fetch and carry without having been taught to do so, or without having

seen it done. Who would make such an assertion with regard to human

education?

Now there are thinkers whose observations have led them beyond the opinion

that a man is built by purely inherited forces from without. They rise to

the thought that a spiritual being, an individuality, exists before life

in the body, and fashions it; but many of them find it impossible to

conceive that there are repeated earthly lives, and that the fruits of

former lives are moulding forces during the intermediate state between two

lives. Let us take one instance from among the ranks of these thinkers.

Immanuel Hermann Fichte, son of the great Fichte, in his _Anthropology_

(p. 528) gives the observations which led him to the following conclusion:

“Parents are _not_ generators in the full sense of the word. They supply

organic substance, and not alone this, but also that intermediate element

of mental and sense nature which appears in temperament, colouring of

character, definite tendencies, and so on, the common source of which

proves to be ‘imagination’ in the wider sense indicated by us. In all

these elements of personality, the mingling and particular combination of

the souls of the parents is unmistakable; it is therefore a perfectly

well-grounded assertion that this combination is simply the result of

procreation, even if we regard procreation, as we must do, as really a

soul-process. But the real ultimate centre of the personality is just what

is lacking here; for a deeper and more searching observation reveals the

fact that even those peculiarities of disposition are but a covering and

an instrument for the containing of the individual’s really spiritual and

ideal capabilities, and are qualified to aid these in their development or

to hinder them, but in no wise able to originate them.” It is further

stated in the same work (p. 532): “Every individual pre-exists as regards

the fundamental form of his spirit, for no individual, from a spiritual

point of view, resembles another, just as no species of animal resembles

another species.”

These thoughts reach only far enough to allow a spiritual being to come

into the human body; but as the forces shaping such a being are not

derived from causes existing in former lives, it would be necessary that,

each time a fresh personality appears, a spiritual being should come forth

from a Divine First Cause. With this hypothesis there would be no

possibility of explaining the relationship which certainly exists between

the potentialities struggling out of man’s innermost being, and that which

is forcing its way thither from his external earthly environment during

life. Man’s innermost being, issuing in the case of each single person

from a Divine First Cause, would find what confronts him in earthly life

quite strange and foreign. Only then would this not be the case—as, in

fact, it is not—if there had already been a connection between the inner

man and the outer world, and if the inner man were not living in it for

the first time.

The unprejudiced educator may undoubtedly observe clearly that he

impresses the consciousness of his pupil with something taken from life’s

experiences which in itself is foreign to his merely inherited qualities,

but which, however, appears to him as if the work out of which these

experiences arise, had been done by him in the past. Only repeated lives

on earth, in conjunction with the facts set forth by occult science as

taking place in spiritual regions between two earthly lives,—only this

view can afford a satisfactory explanation of present human life looked at

from every side. I say expressly “present” human life, for occult

investigation shows that the cycle of earthly life certainly had a

beginning, and at that time man’s spiritual being, which later entered a

bodily frame, existed under different conditions. In the following chapter

we shall go back to this primeval condition of human existence. When it

has been shown, from the reports of occult science how human beings

received their present form in connection with the evolution of the earth,

it will also be possible to indicate more precisely how the spiritual germ

of man’s being descends from superphysical worlds into a bodily form, and

how the spiritual law of causation, or “human destiny,” is developed.