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Author Topic:   The Occult Significance of Blood
Divine Goddess
Knowflake

Posts: 199
From: The arms of unconsciousness
Registered: Sep 2005

posted August 14, 2006 01:37 AM     Click Here to See the Profile for Divine Goddess     Edit/Delete Message
Each one of you will doubtless be aware that the title of this lecture is taken from
Goethe's Faust. You all know that in this poem we are shown how Faust, the
representative of the highest human effort, enters into a pact with the evil powers, who on
their side are represented in the poem by Mephistopheles, the emissary of hell. You will
know, too, that Faust is to strike a bargain with Mephistopheles, the deed of which must
be signed with his own blood. Faust, in the first instance, looks upon it as a jest.
Mephistopheles, however, at this juncture utters the sentence which Goethe without
doubt intended should be taken seriously: “Blood is a very special fluid.”
Now, with reference to this line in Goethe's Faust, we come to a curious trait in the socalled
Goethe commentators. You are of course aware how vast is the literature dealing
with Goethe's version of the Faust Legend. It is a literature of such stupendous
dimensions that whole libraries might be stocked with it, and naturally I cannot make it
my business to expatiate on the various comments made by these interpreters of Goethe
concerning this particular passage. None of the interpretations throw much more light on
the sentence than that given by one of the latest commentators, Professor Minor. He, like
others, treats it in the light of an ironical remark made by Mephistopheles, and in this
connection he makes the following really very curious observation, and one to which I
would ask you to give your best attention; for there is little doubt that you will be
surprised to hear what strange conclusions commentators on Goethe are capable of
drawing.
Professor Minor remarks that “the devil is a foe to the blood”; and he points out that as
the blood is that which sustains and preserves life, the devil, who is the enemy of the
human race, must therefore also be the enemy of the blood. He then — and quite rightly
— draws attention to the fact that even in the oldest versions of the Faust Legend — and
indeed, in legends generally — blood always plays the same part.

In an old book on Faust it is circumstantially described to us how Faust makes a slight
incision in his left hand with a small penknife, and how then, as he takes the pen to sign
his name to the agreement, the blood flowing from the cut forms the words: “O h man,
escape!” All this is authentic enough; but now comes the remark that the devil is a foe to
the blood, and that this is the reason for his demanding that the signature be written in
blood. I should like to ask you whether you could imagine any person being desirous of
possessing the very thing for which he has an antipathy? The only reasonable explanation
that can be given — not only as to Goethe's meaning in this passage, but also as to that
attaching to the main legend as well as to all the older Faust poems — is that to the devil
blood was something special, and that it was not at all a matter of indifference to him
whether the deed was signed in ordinary neutral ink, or in blood.
We can here suppose nothing else than that the representative of the powers of evil
believes nay, is convinced that he will have Faust more especially in his power if he can
only gain possession of at least one drop of his blood. This is self-evident, and no one can
really understand the line otherwise. Faust is to inscribe his name in his own blood, not
because the devil is inimical to it, but rather because he desires to gain power over it.
Now, there is a remarkable perception underlying this passage, namely, that he who gains
power over a man's blood gains power over the man, and that blood is “a very special
fluid” because it is that about which, so to speak, the real fight must be waged, when it
comes to a struggle concerning the man between good and evil.
All those things which have come down to us in the legends and myths of various
nations, and which touch upon human life, will in our day undergo a peculiar
transformation with regard to the whole conception and interpretation of human nature.
The age is past in which legends, fairy-tales, and myths were looked upon merely as
expressions of the childlike fancy of a people. Indeed, the time has even gone by when, in
a half- learned, half-childlike way, it was the fashion to allude to legends as the poetical
expression of a nation's soul.
Now, this so-called “poetic soul” of a nation is nothing but the product of learned red
tape; for this kind of red-tape exists just as much as the official variety. Anyone who has
ever looked into the soul of a people is quite well aware that he is not dealing with
imaginative fiction or anything of the kind, but with something very much more
profound, and that as a matter of fact the legends and fairy-tales of the various peoples
are expressive of wonderful powers and wonderful events.
If from the new standpoint of spiritual investigation we meditate upon the old legends
and myths, allowing those grand and powerful pictures which have come down from
primeval times to work upon our minds, we shall find, if we have been equipped for our
task by the methods of occult science, that these legends and myths are the expressions of
a most profound and ancient wisdom.
It is true we may at first be inclined to ask how it comes about that, in a primitive state of
development and with primitive ideas, unsophisticated man was able to present the riddles of the universe to himself pictorially in these legends and fairy-tales; and how it is
that, when we meditate on them now, we behold in them in pictorial form what the occult
investigation of today is revealing to us with greater clearness.
This is a matter which at first is bound to excite surprise. And yet he who probes deeper
and deeper into the ways and means by which these fairy-tales and myths have come into
being, will find every trace of surprise vanish, every doubt pass away; indeed, he will
find in these legends not only what is termed a naive and unsophisticated view of things,
but the wondrously deep and wise expression of a primordial and true conception of the
world.
Very much more may be learned by thoroughly examining the foundations of these
myths and legends, than by absorbing the intellectual and experimental science of the
present day. But for work of this kind the student must of course be familiar with those
methods of investigation which belong to spiritual science. Now, all that is contained in
these legends and ancient world-conceptions about the blood is wont to be of importance,
since in those remote times there was a wisdom by means of which man understood the
true and wide significance of blood, this “very special fluid” which is itself the flowing
life of human beings.
We cannot today enter into the question as to whence came this wisdom of ancient times,
although some indication of this will be given at the close of the lecture; the actual study
of this subject must, however, stand over to be dealt with in future lectures. The blood
itself, its import for man and the part it plays in the progress of human civilization, will
today occupy our attention.
We shall consider it neither from the physiological nor from the purely scientific point of
view, but shall rather take it from the standpoint of a spiritual conception of the universe.
We shall best approach our subject if, to begin with, we understand the meaning of an
ancient maxim, one which is intimately connected with the civilization of ancient Egypt,
where the priestly wisdom of Hermes flourished. It is an axiom which forms the
fundamental principle of all spiritual science, and which has become known as the
Hermetic Axiom; it runs, “As above, so below.”
You will find that there are many dilettante interpretations of this sentence; the
explanation, however, which is to occupy us today is the following: — It is plain to
spiritual science that the world to which man has primary access by means of his five
senses does not represent the entire world, that it is in fact only the expression of a deeper
world hidden behind it, namely the spiritual world. Now, this spiritual world is called —
according to the Hermetic Axiom — the higher world, the world “above”; and the world
of the senses which is displayed around us, the existence of which we know through the
medium of our senses, and which we are able to study by means of our intellect, is the
lower one, the world “below,” the expression of that higher and spiritua l world. Thus the
occultist, looking upon this world of the senses, sees in it nothing final, but rather a kind
of physiognomy which he recognizes as the expression of a world of soul and spirit; just
as, when you gaze upon a human countenance, you must no t stop at the form of the face and the gestures, paying attention only to them, but must pass, as a matter of course, from
the physiognomy and the gestures to the spiritual element which is expressed in them.
What every person does instinctively when confronted by any being possessed of a soul,
is what the occultist, or spiritual scientist, does in respect of the entire world; and “as
above, so below” would, when referring to man, be thus explained: “Every impulse
animating his soul is expressed in his face.” A hard and coarse countenance expresses
coarseness of soul, a smile tells of inward joy, a tear betrays a suffering soul.
I will here apply the Hermetic Axiom to the question: What actually constitutes wisdom?
Spiritual science has always maintained that human wisdom has something to do with
experience, and that painful experience. He who is actually in the throes of suffering
manifests in this suffering something that is an inward lack of harmony. He, however,
who has overcome the pain and suffering and bears their fruits within him, will always
tell you that through suffering he has gained some measure of wisdom. He says: — “the
joys and pleasures of life, all that life can offer me in the way of satisfaction, all these
things do I receive gratefully; yet were I far more loath to part with my pain and suffering
than with those pleasant gifts of life, for ‘it is to my pain and suffering that I owe my
wisdom.’ ”
And so it is that in wisdom occult science has ever recognized what may be called
crystallized pain — pain that has been conquered and thus changed into its opposite.
It is interesting to note that the more materialistic modern research has of late arrived at
exactly the same conclusion. Quite recently a book has been published on “The Mimicry
of Thought,” a book well worth reading. It is not the work of a theosophist, but of a
student of nature and of the human soul. The author endeavors to show how the inner life
of man, his way of thinking, as it were, impresses itself upon his physiognomy. This
student of human nature draws attention to the fact that there is always something in the
expression on the face of a thinker which is suggestive of what one may describe as
“absorbed pain.”
Thus you see that this principle comes to light again in the more materialistic view of our
own day, a brilliant confirmation of that immemorial axiom of spiritual science. You will
become more and more deeply sensible of this, and you will find that gradually, point for
point, the ancient wisdom will reappear in the science of modern times.
Occult investigation shows decisively that all the things which surround us in this world
— the mineral foundation, the vegetable covering, and the animal world — should be
regarded as the physiognomical expression, or the “below,” of an “above” or spirit life
lying behind them. From the point of view taken by occultism, the things presented to us
in the sense world can only be rightly understood if our knowledge includes cognition of
the “above,” the spiritual archetype, the original Spiritual Beings, whence all things
manifest have proceeded. And for this reason we will today apply our minds to a study of
that which lies concealed behind the phenomenon of the blood, that which shaped for
itself in the blood its physiognomical expression in the world of sense. When once you
understand this “spiritual background” of blood, you will be able to realize how the
knowledge of such matters is bound to react upon our whole mental outlook on life.
Questions of great importance are pressing upon us these days; questions dealing with the
education, not alone of the young, but of entire nations. And, furthermore, we are
confronted by the momentous educational question which humanity will have to face in
the future, and which cannot fail to be recognized by all who note the great social
upheavals of our time, and the claims which are everywhere being advanced, be they the
Labor Question, or the Question of Peace. All these things are pre-occupying our anxious
minds.
But all such questions are illuminated as soon as we recognize the nature of the spiritual
essence which lies at the back of our blood. Who can deny that this question is closely
linked to that of race, which at the present time is once more coming markedly to the
front? Yet this question of race is one that we can never understand until we understand
the mysteries of the blood and of the results accruing from the mingling of the blood of
different races. And finally, there is yet one other question, the importance of which is
becoming more and more acute as we endeavor to extricate ourselves from the hitherto
aimless methods of dealing with it, and seek to approach it in its more comprehensive
bearings. This problem is that of colonization, which crops up wherever civilized races
come into contact with the uncivilized: namely — To what extent are uncivilized peoples
capable of becoming civilized? How can an utterly barbaric savage become civilized?
And in what way ought we to deal with them? And here we have to consider not only the
feelings due to a vague morality, but we are also confronted by great, serious, and vital
problems of the very fact of existence itself.
Those who are not aware of the conditions governing a people — whether it be on the upor
down-grade of its evolution, and whether the one or the other is a matter conditioned
by its blood — such people as these will, indeed, be unlikely to hit on the right mode of
introducing civilization to an alien race. These are all matters which arise as soon as the
Blood Question is touched upon.
What blood in itself is, you presumably all know from the current teachings of natural
science, and you will be aware that, with regard to man and the higher animals, this blood
is practically fluid life.
You are aware that it is by say of the blood that the “inner man” comes into contact with
that which is exterior, and that in the course of this process man's blood absorbs oxygen,
which constitutes the very breath of life. Through the absorption of this oxygen the blood
undergoes renewal. The blood which is presented to the in-streaming oxygen is a kind of
poison to the organism — a kind of destroyer and demolisher — but through the
absorption of the oxygen the blue-red blood becomes transmuted by a process of
combustion into red, life- giving fluid. This blood that finds its way to all parts of the
body, depositing everywhere its particles of nourishment, has the task of directly
assimilating the materials of the outer world, and of applying them, by the shortest
method possible, to the nourishment of the body. It is necessary for man and the higher
animals first to absorb the oxygen from the air into it, and to build up and maintain the
body by means of it.
One gifted with a knowledge of souls has not without truth remarked: “The blood with its
circulation is like a second being, and in relation to the man of bone, muscle, and nerve,
acts like a kind of exterior world.” For, as a matter of fact, the entire human being is
continually drawing his sustenance from the blood, and at the same time he discharges
into it that for which he has no use. A man's blood is therefore a true double ever bearing
him company, from which he draws new strength, and to which he gives all that he can
no longer use. “Man's liquid life” is therefore a good name to have given the blood; for
this constantly changing “special fluid” is assuredly as important to man as is cellulose to
the lower organisms.
The distinguished scientist, Ernst Haeckel, who has probed deeply into the workings of
nature, in several of his popular works has rightly drawn attention to the fact that blood is
in reality the latest factor to originate in an organism. If we follow the development of the
human embryo we find that the rudiments of bone and muscle are evolved long before
the first tendency toward blood formation becomes apparent. The groundwork for the
formation of blood, with all its attendant system of blood- vessels, appears very late in the
development of the embryo, and from this natural science has rightly concluded that the
formation of blood occurred late in the evolution of the universe; that other powers which
were there had to be raised to the height of blood, so to speak, in order to bring about at
that height what was to be accomplished inwardly in the human being. Not until the
human embryo has repeated in itself all the earlier stages of human growth, thus attaining
to the condition in which the world was before the formation of blood, is it ready to
perform this crowning act of evolution — the transmuting and uplifting of all that had
gone before into the “very special fluid” which we call Blood.
If we would study those mysterious laws of the spiritual universe which exist behind the
blood, we must occupy ourselves a little with some of the most elementary concepts of
Anthroposophy. These have often been set forth, and you will see that these elementary
ideas of Anthroposophy are the “above,” and that this “above” is expressed in the
important laws governing the blood — as well as the rest of life — as though in a
physiognomy.
Those present who are already well acquainted with the primary laws of Anthroposophy
will, I trust, here permit a short repetition of them for the benefit of others who are here
for the first time. Indeed, such repetition may serve to render these laws more and more
clear to the former, by hearing them thus applied to new and special cases. To those, of
course, who know nothing about Anthroposophy, who have not yet familiarized
themselves with these conceptions of life and of the universe, that which I am about to
say may seem little else than so many words strung together, of which they can make
nothing. But the fault does not always consist in the lack of an idea behind the words,
when the latter convey nothing to a person. Indeed we may here adopt, with a slight
alteration, a remark of the witty Lichtenberg, who said: “If a head and a book come into
collision and the resulting sound is a hollow one, the fault need not necessarily be that of
the book!”
And so it is with our contemporaries when they pass judgment on theosophical truths. If
these truths should in the ears of many sound like mere words, words to which they
cannot attach any meaning, the fault need not necessarily rest with Anthroposophy; those,
however, who have found the ir way into these matters will know that behind all allusions
to higher Beings, such Beings do actually exist, although they are not to be found in the
world of the senses.
Our theosophical conception of the universe shows us that man, as far as he is revealed to
our senses in the external world as far as his shape and form are concerned, is but a part
of the complete Human being, and that, in fact, there are many other parts behind the
physical body. Man possesses this physical body in common with all the so-called
“lifeless” mineral objects that surround him. Over and above this, however, man
possesses the etheric or vital body. (The term “etheric” is not here used in the same sense
as when applied by physical science.) This etheric or vital body, as it is sometimes called,
far from being any figment of the imagination, is as distinctly visible to the developed
spiritual senses of the occultist as are externally perceptible colors to the physical eye.
This etheric body can actually be seen by the clairvoyant. It is the principle which calls
the inorganic materials into life, which, summoning them from their lifeless condition,
weaves them into the thread of life's garment. Do not imagine that this body is to the
occultist merely something which he adds in thought to what is lifeless. That is what the
natural scientists try to do! They try to complete what they see with the microscope by
inventing something which they call the life-principle.
Now, such a standpoint is not taken by theosophical research. This has a fixed principle.
It does not say: “Here I stand as a seeker, just as I am. All that there is in the world must
conform to my present point of view. What I am unable to perceive has no existence!”
This sort of argument is about as sensible as if a blind man were to say that colors are
simply matters of fancy. The man who knows nothing about a matter is not in the
position to judge of it, but rather he into whose range of experience such matters have
entered.
Now man is in a state of evolution, and for this reason Anthroposophy says: “If you
remain as you are you will not see the etheric body, and may therefore indeed speak of
the ‘boundaries of knowledge’ and ‘Ignorabimus’; but if you develop and acquire, the
necessary faculties for the cognition of spiritual things, you will no longer speak of the
‘boundaries of knowledge,’ for these only exist as long as man has not developed his
inner senses.” It is for this reason that agnosticism constitutes so heavy a drag upon our
civilization; for it says: “Man is thus and thus, and being thus and thus he can know only
this and that.” To such a doctrine we reply: “Though he be thus and thus today, he has to
become different, and when different he will then know something else.”
So the second part of man is the etheric body, which he possesses in common with the
vegetable kingdom.

The third part is the so-called astral body — a significant and beautiful name, the reason
for which stall be explained later. Theosophists who are desirous of changing this name
can have no idea of what is implied therein. To the astral body is assigned the task, both
in man and in the animal, of lifting up the life-substance to the plane of feeling, so that in
the life-substance may move not only fluids, but also that in it may be expressed all that
is known as pain and pleasure, joy and grief. And here you have at once the essential
difference between the plant and the animal; although there are certain states of transition
between these two.
A recent school of naturalists is of opinion that feeling, in its literal sense, should also be
ascribed to plants; this, however, is but playing with words; for, though it is obvious that
certain plants are of so sensitive an organization that they “respond” to particular things
that may be brought near to them, yet such a condition cannot be described as “feeling.”
In order that “feeling” may exist, an image must be formed within the being as the reflex
of that which produces the sensation. If, therefore, certain plants respond to external
stimulus, this is no proof that the plant answers to the stimulus by a feeling, that is, that it
experiences it inwardly. That which has inward experience has its seat in the astral body.
And so we come to see that that which has attained to animal conditions consists of the
physical body, the etheric or vital body, and the astral body.
Man, however, towers above the animal through the possession of something quite
distinct, and thoughtful people have at all times been aware wherein this superiority
consists. It is indicated in what Jean Paul says of himself in his autobiography. He relates
that he could remember the day when he stood as a child in the courtyard of his parents'
house, and the thought suddenly flashed across his mind that he was an ego, a being,
capable of inwardly saying “I” to itself; and he tells us that this made a profound
impression upon him.
All the so-called external science of the soul overlooks the most important point which is
here involved. I will ask you; therefore, to follow me for a few moments in making a
survey of what is a very subtle argument, yet one which will show you how the matter
stands. In the whole of human speech there is one small word which differs in toto from
all the rest. Each one of you can name the things around you; each one can call a table a
table, and a chair a chair. But there is one word, one name, which you cannot apply
anything save to that which owns it and this is the little word “I.” None can address
another as “I.” This “I” has to sound forth from the innermost soul itself; it is the name
which only the soul itself can apply to itself. Every other person is a “you” to me, and I
am a “you” to him. All religions have recognized this “I” as the expression of that
principle in the soul through which its innermost being, its divine nature, is enabled to
speak. Here, then, begins that which can never penetrate through the exterior senses,
which can never, in its real significance, be named from without, but which must sound
forth from the innermost being. Here begins that monologue, that soliloquy of the soul,
whereby the divine self makes known its presence when the path lies clear for the coming
of the Spirit into the human soul.
In the religions of earlier civilizations, among the ancient Hebrews, for instance, this
name was known as “the unutterable name of God,” and whatever interpretation modern
philology may choose to place upon it, the ancient Jewish name of God has no other
meaning than that which is expressed in our word “I.” A thrill passed through those
assembled when the “Name of the Unknown God” was pronounced by the Initiates, when
they dimly perceived what was meant by those words reverberating through the temple:
“I am that I am.”
In this word is expressed the fourth principle of human nature, the one that man alone
possesses while on earth; and this “I” in its turn encloses and develops within itself the
germs of higher stages of humanity.
We can only take a passing glance at what in the future will be evolved through this
fourth principle. We must point out that man consists of a physical body, an etheric body,
an astral body, and the ego, or actual inner self; and that within this inner self are the
rudiments of three further stages of development which will originate in the blood. These
three are Manas, Buddhi, and Atma:
Manas, the Spirit-Self, as distinguished from the bodily self;
Buddhi, the Life-Spirit;
Atma, the actual and true Spirit-Man, a far-off ideal to the man of today; the rudimentary
germ now latent within, but destined in future ages to reach perfection.
We have seven colors in the rainbow, seven tones in the (musical) scale, seven series of
atomic weights [in the Periodic Table of the chemical elements], and seven grades in the
scale of the human being; and these are again divided into four lower and three higher
grades.
We will now attempt to get a clear insight into the way in which this upper spiritual triad
secures a physiognomical expression in the lower quaternary, and how it appears to us in
the world of the senses. Take, in the first place, that which has crystallized into form as
man's physical body; this he possesses in common with the whole of what is called
“lifeless” nature. When we talk theosophically of the physical body, we do not even mean
that which the eye beholds, but rather that combination of forces which has constructed
the physical body, that living Force which exists behind the visible form.
Let us now observe a plant. This is a being possessed of an etheric body, which raises
physical substance to life; that is, it converts that substance into living sap. What is it that
transforms the so-called lifeless forces into the living sap? We call it the etheric body,
and the etheric body does precisely the same work in animals and men; it causes that
which has a merely material existence to become a living configuration, a living form.
This etheric body is, in its turn, permeated by an astral body. And what does the astral
body do? It causes the substance which has been set in motion to experience inwardly the
circulation of those outwardly moving fluids, so that the external movement is reflected
in inward experience.
We have now arrived at the point where we are able to comprehend man so far as
concerns his place in the animal kingdom. All the substances of which man is composed,
such as oxygen, nitrogen, hydrogen, sulfur, phosphorus, etc., are to be found outside in
inanimate nature also. If that which the etheric body has transformed into living
substance is to have inner experiences, if it is to create inner reflections of that which
takes place externally, then the etheric body must be permeated by what we have come to
know as the astral body, for it is the astral body that gives rise to sensation. But at this
stage the astral body calls forth sensation only in one particular way. The etheric body
changes the inorganic substances into vital fluids, and the astral body in its turn
transforms this vital substance into sentient substance; but — and this I ask you to
specially notice — what is it that a being with no more than these three bodies is capable
of feeling? It feels only itself, its own life-processes; it leads a life that is confined within
itself.
Now, this is a most interesting fact, and one of extraordinary importance for us to bear in
mind. If you look at one of the lower animals, what do you find it has accomplished? It
has transformed inanimate substance into living substance, and living substance into
sensitive substance: and sensitive substance can only be found where there exist, at all
events, the rudiments of what at a later stage appears as a developed nervous system.
Thus we have inanimate substance, living substance, and substance permeated by nerves
capable of sensation. If you look at a crystal you have to recognize it primarily as the
expression of certain natural laws which prevail in the external world in the so-called
lifeless kingdom. No crystal could be formed without the assistance of all surrounding
nature. No single link can be severed from the chain of the cosmos and set apart by itself.
And just as little can you separate from his environment man, who, if he were lifted to an
altitude of even a few miles above the earth, must inevitably die. Just as man is only
conceivable here in the place where he is, where the necessary forces are combined in
him, so it is too with regard to the crystal; and therefore, whoever views a crystal rightly
will see in it a picture of the whole of nature, indeed of the whole cosmos. What Cuvier
said is actually the case, viz., that a competent anatomist will be able to tell to what sort
of animal any given bone has belonged, every animal having its own particular kind of
bone-formation.
Thus the whole cosmos lives in the form of a crystal. In the same way the whole cosmos
is expressed in the living substance of a single being. The fluids coursing through a being
are, at the same time, a little world, and a counterpart of the great world. And when
substance has become capable of sensation, what then dwells in the sensations of the
most elementary creatures? Such sensations mirror the cosmic laws, so that each separate
living creature perceives within itself microcosmically the entire macrocosm. The
sentient life of an elementary creature is thus an image of the life of the universe, just as
the crystal is an image of its form. The consciousness of such living creatures is, of
course, but dim. Yet this very vagueness of consciousness is counterbalanced by its far
greater range, for the whole cosmos is felt in the dim conscious ness of an elementary
being. Now, in man there is only a more complicated structure of the same three bodies
found in the simplest sensitive living creature.
Take man — without considering his blood — take him as being made up of the
substance of the surrounding physical world, and containing, like the plant, certain juices
which transform it into living substance, and in which a nervous system gradually
becomes organized. This first nervous system is the so-called sympathetic system, and in
the case of man it extends along the entire length of the spine, to which it is attached by
small threads on either side. It has also at each side a series of nodes, from which threads
branch off to different parts, such as the lungs, the digestive organs, and so on. This
sympathetic nervous system gives rise, in the first place, to the life of sensation just
described. But man's consciousness does not extend deep enough to enable him to follow
the cosmic processes mirrored by these nerves. They are a medium of expression, and
just as human life is formed from the surrounding cosmic world, so is this cosmic world
reflected again in the sympathetic nervous system. These nerves live a dim inward life,
and if man were but able to dip down into his “sympathetic” system, and to lull his higher
nervous system to sleep, he would behold, as in a state of luminous life, the silent
workings of the mighty cosmic laws.
In past times people were possessed of a clairvoyant faculty which is now superseded,
but which may be experienced when, by special processes, the activity of the higher
system of nerves is suspended, thus setting free the lower or subliminal consciousness. At
such times man lives in that system of nerves which, in its own particular way, is a
reflection of the surrounding world.
Certain lower animals indeed still retain this state of consciousness, and, dim and
indistinct though it is, yet it is essentially more far-reaching than the consciousness of the
man of the present day. A widely extending world is reflected as a dim inward life, not
merely a small section such as is perceived by contemporary man. But in the case of man
something else has taken place in addition. When evolution has proceeded so far that the
sympathetic nervous system has been developed, so that the cosmos has been reflected in
it, the evolving being again at this point opens itself outwards; to the sympathetic system
is added the spinal cord. The system of brain and spinal cord then leads to those organs
through which connection is set up with the outer world.
Man, having progressed thus far, is no longer called upon to act merely as a mirror for
reflecting the primordial laws of cosmic evolution, but a relation is set up between the
reflection itself and the external world. The junction of the sympathetic system and the
higher nervous system is expressive of the change which has taken place beforehand in
the astral body. The latter no longer merely lives the cosmic life in a state of dull
consciousness, but it adds thereto its own special inward existence. The sympathetic
system enables a being to sense what is taking place outside it; the higher system of
nerves enables it to perceive that which happens within, and the highest form of the nervous system, such as is possessed by mankind in gene ral at the present stage of
evolution, takes from the more highly developed astral body material for the creation of
pictures, or representations, of the outer world. Man has lost the power of perceiving the
former dim primitive pictures of the external world, but, on the other hand, he is now
conscious of his inner life, and out of this inner life he forms, at a higher stage, a new
world of images in which, it is true, only a small portion of the outer world is reflected,
but in a clearer and more perfect manner than before.
Hand in hand with this transformation another change takes place in higher stages of
development. The transformation thus begun extends from the astral body to the etheric
body. As the etheric body in the process of its transformation evolves the astral body, as
to the sympathetic nervous system is added the system of the brain and spine, so, too,
does that which — after receiving the lower circulation of fluids — has grown out of and
become free from the etheric body now transmutes these lower fluids into what we know
as blood.
Blood is, therefore, an expression of the individualized etheric body, just as the brain and
spinal cord are the expression of the individualized astral body. And it is this
individualizing which brings about that which lives as the ego or “I.”
Having followed man thus far in his evolution, we find that we have to do with a chain
consisting of five links, affecting: —
The Physical Body;
The Etheric Body and
The Astral Body.
These links are:
The inorganic, neutral, physical forces;
The vital fluids, which are also found in plants;
The lower or sympathetic nervous system;
The higher astral body, which has been evolved from the lower one, and which finds its
expression in the spinal cord and the brain;
The Principle that individualizes the etheric body.
Just as these two latter principles have been individualized, so will the first principle
through which lifeless matter enters the human body, serving to build it up, also become
individualized; but in our present-day humanity we find only the first rudiments of this
transformation.

We have seen how the external formless substances enter the human body, and how the
etheric body turns these materials into living forms; how, further, the astral body fashions
pictures of the external world, how this reflection of the external world resolves itself into
inner experiences, and how this inner life then reproduces from within itself pictures of
the outer world.
Now, when this metamorphosis extends to the etheric body, blood is formed. The blood
vessels, together with the heart, are the expression of the transformed etheric body, in the
same way in which the spinal cord and the brain express the transformed astral body. Just
as by means of the brain the external world is experienced inwardly, so also by means of
the blood this inner world is transformed into an outer expression in the body of man. I
shall have to speak in similes in order to describe to you the complicated processes which
have now to be taken into account.
The blood absorbs those pictures of the outside world which the brain has formed within,
transforms them into living constructive forces, and with them builds up the present
human body. Blood is therefore the material that builds up the human body. We have
before us a process in which the blood extracts from its cosmic environment the highest
substance it can possibly obtain, viz., oxygen, which renews the blood and supplies it
with fresh life. In this manner our blood is caused to open itself to the outer world.
We have thus followed the path from the exterior world to the interior one, and also back
again from that inner world to the outer one. Two things are now possible. (1) We see
that blood originates when man confronts the external world as an independent being,
when out of the perceptions to which the external world has given rise, (2) he in his turn
produces different shapes and pictures on his own account, thus himself becoming
creative, and making it possible for the Ego, the individual Will, to come into life. A
being in whom this process had not yet taken place would not be able to say “I.” In the
blood lies the principle for the development of the ego. The “I” can only be expressed
when a being is able to form within itself the pictures which it has obtained from the
outer world. An “I-being” must be capable of taking the external world into itself, and of
inwardly reproducing it.
Were man merely endowed with a brain, he would only be able to reproduce pictures of
the outer world within himself, and to experience them within himself; he would then
only be able to say: “The outer world is reflected in me as in a mirror.” If, however, he is
able to build up a new form for this reflection of the external world, this form is no longer
merely the external world reflected, it is “I” A creature possessed of a spinal cord and a
brain perceives the reflection as its inner life. But when a creature possesses blood, it
experiences its inner life as its own form. By means of the blood, assisted by the oxygen
of the external world, the individual body is formed according to the pictures of the inner
life. This formation is expressed as the perception of the “I.”
The ego turns in two directions, and the blood expresses this fact externally. The vision
of the ego is directed inwards; its will is turned outwards. The forces of the blood are
directed inwards; they build up the inner man, and again they are turned outwards to the
oxygen of the external world. This is why, on going to sleep, man sinks into
unconsciousness; he sinks into that which his consciousness can experience in the blood.
When, however, he again opens his eyes to the outer world, his blood adds to its
constructive forces the pictures produced by the brain and the senses. Thus the blood
stands midway, as it were, between the inner world of pictures and the exterior living
world of form. This role becomes clear to us when we study two phenomena, viz.,
ancestry — the relationship between conscious beings — and experience in the world of
external events. Ancestry, or descent, places us where we stand in accordance with the
law of blood relationship. A person is born of a connection, a race, a tribe, a line of
ancestors, and what these ancestors have bequeathed to him is in his blood. In the blood
is gathered together, as it were, all that the material past has constructed in man; and in
the blood is also being formed all that is being prepared for the future.
When, therefore, man temporarily suppresses his higher consciousness, when he is in a
hypnotic state, or one of somnambulism, or when he is atavistically clairvoyant, he
descends to a far deeper consciousness, one wherein he becomes dreamily cognizant of
the great cosmic laws, but nevertheless perceives them much more clearly than the most
vivid dreams of ordinary sleep. At such times the activity of his brain is in abeyance and
during states of the deepest somnambulism this applies also to the spinal cord. The man
experiences the activities of his sympathetic nervous system; that is to say, in a dim and
hazy fashion he senses the life of the entire cosmos. At such times the blood no longer
expresses pictures of the inner life which are produced by means of the brain, but it
presents those which the outer world has formed in it. Now, however, we must bear in
mind that the forces of his ancestors have helped to make him what he is. Just as he
inherits the shape of his nose from an ancestor, so does he inherit the form of his whole
body. At such times of suppressed conscious ness he senses the pictures of the outer
world; that is to say, his forebears are active in his blood, and at such a time he dimly
takes part in their remote life.
Everything in the world is in a state of evolution, human consciousness included. Man
has not always had the consciousness he now possesses; when we go back to the times of
our earliest ancestors, we find a consciousness of a very different kind. At the present
time man in his waking- life perceives external things through the agency of his senses
and forms ideas about them. These ideas about the external world work in his blood.
Everything, therefore, of which he has been the recipient as the result of senseexperience,
lives and is active in his blood; his memory is stored with these experiences
of his senses. Yet, on the other hand, the man of today is no longer conscious of what he
possesses in his inward bodily life by inheritance from his ancestors. He knows naught
concerning the forms of his inner organs; but in earlier times this was otherwise. There
then lived within the blood not only what the senses had received from the external
world, but also that which is contained within the bodily form; and as that bodily form
was inherited from his ancestors, man sensed their life within himself.
If we think of a heightened form of this consciousness, we shall have some idea of how
this was also expressed in a corresponding form of memory. A person experiencing no
more than what he perceives by his senses, remembers no more than the events connected
with those outward sense-experiences. He can only be aware of such things as he may
have experienced in this way since his childhood. But with prehistoric man the case was
different. Such a man sensed what was within him, and as this inner experience was the
result of heredity, he passed through the experiences of his ancestors by means of his
inner faculty. He remembered not only his own childhood, but also the experiences of his
ancestors. This life of his ancestors was, in fact, ever present in the pictures which his
blood received, for, incredible as it may seem to the materialistic ideas of the present day,
there was at one time a form of consciousness by means of which men considered not
only their own sense-perceptions as their own experiences, but also the experiences of
their forefathers. In those times, when they said, “I have experienced such and such a
thing,” they alluded not only to what had happened to themselves personally, but also to
the experiences of their ancestors, for they could remember these.
This earlier consciousness was, it is true, of a very dim kind, very hazy as compared to
man's waking consciousness at the present day. It partook more of the nature of a vivid
dream, but, on the other hand, it embraced far more than does our present consciousness.
The son felt himself connected with his father and his grandfather as one “I,” because he
felt their experiences as if they were his own. And because man was possessed of this
consciousness, because he lived not only in his own personal world, but because within
him there dwelt also the consciousness of preceding generations, in naming himself he
included in that name all belonging to his ancestral line. Father, son, grandson, etc.,
designated by one name that which was common to them all, that which passed through
them all; in short, a person felt himself to be merely a member of an entire line of
descendants. This sensation was a true and actual one.
We must now inquire how it was that his form of consciousness was changed. It came
about through a cause well known to occult history. If you go back into the past, you will
find that there is one particular moment which stands out in the history of each nation. It
is the moment at which a people enters on a new phase of civilization, the moment when
it ceases to have old traditions, when it ceases to possess its ancient wisdom, the wisdom
which was handed down through generations by means of the blood. The nation
possesses, nevertheless, a consciousness of it, and this is expressed in its legends.
In earlier times tribes held aloof from each other, and the individual members of families
intermarried. You will find this to have been the case with all races and with all peoples;
and it was an important moment for humanity when this principle was broken through,
when foreign blood was introduced, and when marriage between relations was replaced
by marriage with strangers, when endogamy gave place to exogamy. Endogamy
preserves the blood of the generation; it permits of the same blood flo wing in the separate
members as flows for generations through the entire tribe or the entire nation. Exogamy
inoculates man with new blood, and this breaking-down of the tribal principle, this
mixing of blood, which sooner or later takes place among all peoples, signifies the birth
of the external understanding, the birth of the intellect.
The important thing to bear in mind here is that in olden times there was a hazy
clairvoyance, from which the myths and legends originated. This clairvoyance could exist
in the nearly related blood, just as our present-day consciousness comes about owing to
the mingling of blood. The birth of logical thought, the birth of the intellect, was
simultaneous with the advent of exogamy. Surprising, as this may seem, it is nevertheless
true. It is a fact which will be substantiated more and more by external investigation;
indeed, the initial steps along this line have already been taken.
But this mingling of blood which comes about through exogamy is also that which at the
same time obliterates the clairvoyance of earlier days, in order that humanity may evolve
to a higher stage of development; and just as the person who has passed through the
stages of occult development regains this clairvoyance, and transmutes it into a new
form, so has our waking consciousness of the present day been evolved out of that dim
and hazy clairvoyance which [was] obtained in times of old.
At the present time everything in a man's environment is impressed upon his blood;
hence the environment fashions the inner man in accordance with the outer world. In the
case of primitive man it was that which was contained within the body that was more
fully expressed in the blood. In those early times the recollection of ancestral experiences
was inherited, and, along with this, good or evil tendencies. In the blood of the
descendants were to be traced the effects of the ancestors' tendencies. Now, when the
blood was mixed through exogamy, this close connection with ancestors was severed,
and the man began to live his own personal life. Thus, in an unmixed blood is expressed
the power of the ancestral life, and in a mixed blood the power of personal experience.
The myths and legends tell of these things. They say: “That which has power over thy
blood, has power over thee.” This traditional power ceased when it could no longer work
upon the blood, because the latter's capacity for responding to such power was
extinguished by the admixture of foreign blood. This statement holds good to the widest
extent. Whatever power it is that wishes to obtain the mastery over a man, that power
must work upon him in such a way that the working is expressed in his blood. If,
therefore, an evil power would influence a man, it must be able to influence his blood.
This is the deep and spiritual meaning of the quotation from Faust. This is why the
representative of the evil principle says: “Sign thy name to the pact with thy blood. If
once I have thy name written in thy blood, then I can hold thee by that which above all
sways a man; then shall I have drawn thee over to myself.” For whoever has mastery over
the blood is master of the man himself, or of the man's ego.
When two groups of people come into contact, as is in the case of colonization, then
those who are acquainted with the conditions of evolution are able to foretell whether or
not an alien form of civilization can be assimilated by the others. Take, for example, a
people that is the product of its environment, into whose blood this environment has built
itself, and try to graft upon such a people a new form of civilization. The thing is
impossible. This is why certain aboriginal peoples had to go under, as soon as colonists
came to their particular parts of the world.
It is from this point of view that the question will have to be considered, and the idea that
changes are capable of being forced upon all and sundry will in time cease to be upheld,
for it is useless to demand from blood more than it can endure.
Modern science has discovered that if the blood of one animal is mixed with that of
another not akin to it, the blood of the one is fatal to that of the other. This has been
known to occultism for ages. If you mingle the blood of human beings with that of the
lower apes, the result is destructive to the species, since the one is too far removed from
the other. If, again, you mingle the blood of man with that of the higher apes, death does
not ensue. Just as this mingling of the blood of different species of animals brings about
actual death when the types are too remote, so, too, the ancient clairvoyance of
undeveloped man was killed when his blood was mixed with the blood of others who did
not belong to the same stock. The entire intellectual life of today is the outcome of the
mingling of blood, and the time is no t far distant when people will study the influence
this had upon human life, and they will be able to trace it back in the history of humanity
when investigations are once more conducted from this standpoint.
We have seen that blood united to blood in the case of but remotely connected species of
animals, kills; blood united to blood in the case of more closely allied species of animals
does not kill. The physical organism of man survives when strange blood comes in
contact with strange blood, [except, of course, in the case of incompatible blood types,
which mutually coagulate one another] but clairvoyant power perishes under the
influence of this mixing of blood, or exogamy.
Man is so constituted that when blood mingles with blood not too far removed in
evolution, the intellect is born. By this means the original clairvoyance which belonged to
the lower animal- man was destroyed, and a new form of consciousness took its place.
Thus in the higher stage of human development we find something similar to what
happens at a lower stage in the animal kingdom. In the latter, strange blood kills strange
blood. In the human kingdom strange blood kills that which is intimately bound up with
kindred blood, viz., the dim, dreary clairvoyance. Our everyday objective consciousness
is therefore the outcome of a destructive process. In the course of evolution the kind of
mental life due to endogamy has been destroyed, but in its stead exogamy has given birth
to the intellect, to the wide-awake consciousness of the present day.
That which is able to live in man's blood is that which lives in his ego. Just as the
physical body is the expression of the physical principle, as the etheric body is the
expression of the vital fluids and their systems, and the astral body of the nervous system,
so is the blood the expression of the “I,” or ego. Physical principle, etheric body, and
astral body are the “Above”; physical body, vital system, and nervous system are the
“below.” Similarly, the ego is the “above,” and the blood is the “below.” Whoever,
therefore, would master a man, must first master that man's blood. This must be borne in
mind if any advance is to be made in practical life. For example, the individuality of a
people may be destroyed if, when colonizing, you demand from its blood more than it
can bear, for in the blood the ego is expressed. Beauty and truth possess a man only when
they possess his blood.
Mephistopheles obtains possession of Faust's blood because he desires to rule his ego.
Hence we may say that the sentence which has formed the theme of the present lecture
was drawn from the profound depths of knowledge; for truly —
“Blood is a Very Special Fluid.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

SOURCE:-

An Esoteric Study
A Lecture By
Rudolf Steiner
Berlin, October 25, 1906
GA 55

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