With profound thanks I look back on the words which Count
Keyserlingk has just spoken. For the feeling of thanks is
not only justified on the part of those who are able to
receive from Anthroposophical Science. One can also feel
deeply what I may call the thanks of Anthroposophia
itself — thanks which in these hard times are due
to all who share in anthrosposophical interests.
Out of the spirit of Anthroposophia, therefore, I would
thank you most heartily for the words you have just
spoken. Indeed, it is deeply gratifying that we are able
to hold this Agriculture Course here in the house of
Count and Countess Keyserlingk. I know from my former
visits what a beautiful atmosphere there is in Koberwitz
— I mean also the spiritual atmosphere. I know that
the atmosphere of soul and spirit which is living here is
the best possible premiss for what must be said during
this Course.
Count Keyserlingk has told us that there may be some
discomforts for one or another among us. He was speaking
especially of the eurhythmists; though it may be the
“discomforts” are shared by some of our other
visitors from a distance. Yet on the other hand,
considering the purpose of our present gathering, it
seems to me we could scarcely be accommodated better for
this Lecture Course than here, in a farm so excellent and
so exemplary.
Whatever comes to light in the realms of Anthroposophia,
we also need to live in it with our feelings — in
the necessary atmosphere. And for our Course on Farming
this condition will most certainly be fulfilled at
Koberwitz. All this impels me to express our deeply felt
thanks to Count Keyserlingk and to his house. In this I
am sure Frau Doctor Steiner will join me. We are thankful
that we may spend these festive days — I trust they
will also be days of real good work — here in this
house.
I cannot but believe: inasmuch as we are gathered here in
Koberwitz, there will prevail throughout these days an
agricultural spirit which is already deeply united with
the Anthroposophical Movement. Was it not Count
Keyserlingk who helped us from the very outset with his
advice and his devoted work, in the farming activities we
undertook at Stuttgart under the Kommende Tag Company?
His spirit, trained by his deep and intimate Union with
Agriculture, was prevalent in all that we were able to do
in this direction. And I would say, forces were there
prevailing which came from the innermost heart of our
Movement and which drew us hither, quite as a matter of
course, the moment the Count desired us to come to
Koberwitz.
Hence I can well believe that every single one of us has
come here gladly for this Agriculture Course. We who have
come here can express our thanks just as deeply and
sincerely, that your House has been ready to receive us
with our intentions for these days. For my part, these
thanks are felt most deeply, and I beg Count Keyserlingk
and his whole house to receive them especially from me. I
know what it means to give hospitality to so many
visitors and for so many days, in the way in which I feel
it will be done here. Therefore I think I can also give
the right colouring to these words of thanks, and I beg
you to receive them, understanding that I am well aware
of the many difficulties which such a gathering may
involve in a house remote from the City. Whatever may be
the inconveniences of which the Count has spoken —
representing, needless to say, not the “Home
Office” but the “Foreign Office” —
whatever they may be, I am quite sure that every single
one of us will go away fully satisfied with your kind
hospitality.
Whether you will go away equally satisfied with the
Lecture-Course itself, is doubtless a more open question,
though we will do our utmost, in the discussions during
the succeeding days, to come to a right understanding on
all that is here said. You must not forget: though the
desire for it has been cherished in many quarters for a
long time past, this is the first time I have been able
to undertake such a Course out of the heart of our
anthroposophical striving. It pre-supposes many things.
The Course itself will show us how intimately the
interests of Agriculture are bound up, in all directions,
with the widest spheres of life. Indeed there is scarcely
a realm of human life which lies outside our subject.
From one aspect or another, all interests of human life
belong to Agriculture. Here, needless to say, we can only
touch upon the central domain of Agriculture itself,
albeit this of its own accord will lead us along many
different side tracks — necessarily so, for the
very reason that what is here said will grow out of the
soil of Anthroposophia itself.
In particular, you must forgive me if my introductory
words to-day appear — inevitably — a little
far remote. Not everyone, perhaps, will see at once what
the connection is between this introduction and our
special subject. Nevertheless, we shall have to build
upon what is said to-day, however remote it may seem at
first sight. For Agriculture especially is sadly hit by
the whole trend of modern spiritual life. You see, this
modern spiritual life has taken on a very destructive
form especially as regards the economic realm, though its
destructiveness is scarcely yet divined by many.
Our real underlying intentions, in the economic
undertakings which grew out of the Anthroposophical
Movement, were meant to counteract these things. These
undertakings were created by industrialists, business
men, but they were unable to realise in all directions
what lay in their original intentions, if only for the
reason that the opposing forces in our time are all too
numerous, preventing one from calling forth a proper
understanding for such efforts. Over against the “powers
that be,” the individual is often powerless.
Hitherto, not even the most original and fundamental
aspects of these industrial and economic efforts, which
grew out of the heart of the Anthroposophical Movement,
have been realised. Nay, they have not even reached the
plane of discussion. What was the real, practical point?
I will explain it in the case of Agriculture, so that we
may not be speaking in vague and general, but in concrete
terms.
We have all manner of books and lecture courses on
Economics, containing, among other things, chapters on
the economic aspects of Agriculture. Economists consider,
how Agriculture should be carried on in the light of
social-economic principles. There are many books and
pamphlets on this subject: how Agriculture should be
shaped, in the light of social and economic ideas. Yet
the whole of this — the giving of economic lectures
an the subject and the writing of such books — is
manifest nonsense. Palpable nonsense, I say, albeit that
is practised nowadays in the widest circles. For it
should go without saying, and every man should
recognise the fact: One cannot speak of Agriculture, not
even of the social forms it should assume, unless one
first possesses as a foundation a practical acquaintance
with the farming job itself. That is to say, unless one
really knows what it means to grow mangolds, potatoes and
corn! Without this foundation one cannot even speak of
the general economic principles which are involved. Such
things must be determined out of the thing itself, not by
all manner of theoretic considerations.
Nowadays, such a statement seems absurd to those who have
heard University lectures on the economics of
Agriculture. The whole thing seems to them so well
established. But it is not so. No one can judge of
Agriculture who does not derive his judgment from field
and forest and the breeding of cattle. All talk of
Economics which is not derived from the job itself should
really cease. So long as people do not recognise that all
talk of Economics — hovering airily over the
realities — is mere empty talk, we shall not reach
a hopeful prospect, neither in Agriculture nor in any
other sphere.
Why is it that people think they can talk of a thing from
theoretic points of view, when they do not understand it?
The reason is, that even within their several domains
they are no longer able to go back to the real
foundations. They look at a beetroot as a beetroot. No
doubt it has this or that appearance; it can be cut more
or less easily, it has such and such a colour, such and
such constituents. All these things can no doubt be said.
Yet therewithal you are still far from understanding the
beetroot. Above all, you do not yet understand the
living-together of the beetroot with the soil, with the
field, the season of the year in which it ripens, and so
forth.
You must be clear as to the following (I have often used
this comparison for other spheres of life): You see a
magnetic needle. You discern that it always points with
one end approximately to the North, and with the other to
the South. You think, why is it so? You look for the
cause, not in the magnetic needle, but in the whole
Earth, inasmuch as you assign to the one end of the Earth
the magnetic North Pole, and to the other the magnetic
South.
Anyone who looked in the magnet-needle itself for the
cause of the peculiar position it takes up, would be
talking nonsense. You can only understand the direction
of the magnet-needle if you know how it is related to the
whole Earth. Yet the same nonsense (as applied to the
magnetic needle) is considered good sense by the men of
to-day when applied to other things.
There, for example, is the beetroot growing in the earth.
To take it just for what it is within its narrow limits,
is nonsense if in reality its growth depends on countless
conditions, not even only of the Earth as a whole, but of
the cosmic environment. The men of to-day say and do many
things in life and practice as though they were dealing
only with narrow, limited objects, not with effects and
influences from the whole Universe. The several spheres
of modern life have suffered terribly from this, and the
effects would be even more evident were it not for the
fact that in spite of all the modern science a certain
instinct still remains over from the times when men were
used to work by instinct and not by scientific theory.
To take another sphere of life: I am always glad to think
that those whose doctors have prescribed how many ounces
of meat they are to eat, and how much cabbage (some of
them even have a balance beside them at the table and
carefully weigh out everything that comes on to their
plate) — it is all very nice; needless to say, one
ought to know such things — but I am always glad to
think how good it is that the poor fellow still feels
hungry, if, after all, he has not had enough to eat! At
least there is still this instinct to tell him so.
Such instincts really underlay all that men had to do
before a “science” of these things existed.
And the instincts frequently worked with great certainty.
Even to-day one is astonished again and again to read the
rules in the old “Peasants' Calendars.” How
infinitely wise and intelligent is that which they
express! Moreover, the man of pure instincts is well able
to avoid superstition in these matters: and in these
Calendars, beside the proverbs full of deep meaning for
the sowing and the reaping, we find all manner of quips,
intended to set aside nonsensical pretentions. This for
example: —
“Kräht der Hahn auf dem Mist,
So
regnet es, oder es bleibt wie es ist.”
“If
the cock crows on the dunghill,
It'll rain — or
it'll stay still.”
So the needful dose of
humour is mingled with the instinctive wisdom in order to
ward off mere superstition.
We, however, speaking from the point of view of
Anthroposophical Science, do not desire to return to the
old instincts. We want to find, out of a deeper spiritual
insight, what the old instincts — as they are
growing insecure — are less and less able to
provide. To this end we must include a far wider horizon
in our studies of the life of plant and animal, and of
the Earth itself. We must extend our view to the whole
Cosmos.
From one aspect, no doubt, it is quite right that we
should not superficially connect the rain with the phases
of the Moon. Yet on the other hand there is a true
foundation to the story I have often told in other
circles. In Leipzig there were two professors. One of
them, Gustav Theodor Fechner, often evinced a keen and
sure insight into spiritual matters. Not altogether
superstitiously, from pure external observations he could
see that certain periods of rain or of no rain were
connected, after all, with the Moon and with its coursing
round the earth.
He drew this as a necessary conclusion from the
statistical results. That however was a time when
orthodox science already wanted to overlook such matters,
and his colleague, the famous Professor Schleiden, poured
scorn on the idea “for scientific reasons.”
Now these two professors of the University of Leipzig
also had wives. Gustav Theodor Fechner, who was a man not
without humour, said: “Well, let our wives decide.”
In Leipzig at that time the water they needed for washing
clothes was not easy to obtain, and a certain custom
still prevailed. You had to fetch your water from a long
distance. Hence they were wont to put out pails and
barrels to catch the rain water.
This was Frau Prof. Schleiden's custom as well as Frau
Prof. Fechner's. But they had not room enough to put out
their barrels in the yard at the same time. So Prof.
Fechner said: “If my honoured colleague is right,
if it makes no difference, then let Frau Prof. Schleiden
put out her barrel when by my indications, according to
the phases of the Moon, there will be less rain. If it is
all nonsense, Frau Prof. Schleiden will surely be glad to
do so.”
But, lo and behold, Frau Prof. Schleiden rebelled. She
preferred the indications of Prof. Fechner to those of
her own husband. And so indeed it is. Science may be
perfectly correct. Real life, however, often cannot
afford to take its cue from the “correctness”
of science!
But we do not wish to speak only in this way. We are in
real earnest about it. I only wanted to point out the
need to look a little farther afield than is customary
nowadays. We must do so in studying that which
alone makes possible the physical life of man on Earth —
and that, after all, is Agriculture. I do not know
whether the things which can be said at this stage out of
Anthroposophical Science will satisfy you in all
directions, but I will do my best to explain what
Anthroposophical Science can give for Agriculture.
* * *
To-day, by way of introduction, I will indicate what is
most important for Agriculture in the life of the Earth.
Nowadays we are wont to attach the greatest importance to
the physical and chemical constituents. To-day, however,
we will not take our Start from these; we will take our
start from something which lies behind the physical and
chemical constituents and is nevertheless of great
importance for the life of plant and animal.
Studying the life of man (and to a certain extent it
applies to animal life also), we observe a high degree of
emancipation of human and animal life from the outer
Universe. The nearer we come to man, the greater this
emancipation grows. In human and animal life we find
phenomena appearing — to begin with — quite
independent not only of the influences from beyond the
Earth, but also of the atmospheric and other influences
of the Earth's immediate environment. Moreover, this not
only appears so; it is to a high degree correct for many
things in human life.
True, it is well-known that the pains of certain
illnesses are intensified by atmospheric influences.
There is, however, another fact of which the people of
to-day are not so well aware. Certain illnesses and other
phenomena of human life take their course in such a way
that in their time-relationships they copy the external
processes of Nature. Yet in their beginning and end they
do not coincide with these Nature-processes. We need only
call to mind one of the most important phenomena of all,
that of female menstruation. The periods, in their
temporal course, imitate the course of the lunar phases,
but they do not coincide with the latter in their
beginning and ending. And there are many other, less
evident phenomena, both in the male and in the female
organism, representing imitations of rhythms in outer
Nature.
If these things were studied more intimately, we should
for example have a better understanding of many things
that happen in the social life by observing the
periodicity of the Sun-spots. People only fail to observe
these things because that in human life which corresponds
to the periodicity of the Sun-spots does not begin when
they begin, nor does it cease when they cease. It has
emancipated itself. It shows the same periodicity, the
identical rhythm, but its phases do not coincide in time.
While inwardly maintaining the rhythm and periodicity, it
makes them independent — it emancipates itself.
Anyone, of course, to whom we say that human life is a
microcosm and imitates the macrocosm, is at liberty to
reply. That is all nonsense! If we declare that certain
illnesses show a seven day's fever period, one may
object: Why then, when certain outer phenomena appear,
does not the fever too make its appearance and run
parallel, and cease with the external phenomena? It is
true that the fever does not; but, though its temporal
beginning and ending do not coincide with the outer
phenomena, it still maintains their inner rhythm. This
emancipation in the Cosmos is almost complete for human
life; for animal life it is less so; plant life, an the
other hand, is still to a high degree immersed in the
general life of Nature, including the outer earthly
world.
Hence we shall never understand plant life unless we bear
in mind that everything which happens on the Earth is but
a reflection of what is taking place in the Cosmos. For
man this fact is only masked because he has emancipated
himself; he only bears the inner rhythms in
himself. To the plant world, however, it applies in the
highest degree. That is what I should like to point out
in this introductory lecture.
The Earth is surrounded in the heavenly spaces, first by
the Moon and then by the other planets of our planetary
system. In an old instinctive science wherein the Sun was
reckoned among the planets, they had this sequence: Moon,
Mercury, Venus, Sun, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn. Without
astronomical explanations I will now speak of this
planetary life, and of that in the planetary life which
is connected with the earthly world.
Turning our attention to the earthly life on a large
scale, the first fact for us to take into account is
this. The greatest imaginable part is played in this
earthly life (considered once more on a Large scale, and
as a whole) by all that which we may call the life of the
silicious substance in the world. You will find
silicious substance for example, in the beautiful mineral
quartz, enclosed in the form of a prism and pyramid; you
will find the silicious substance, combined with oxygen,
in the crystals of quartz.
Imagine the oxygen removed (which in the quartz is
combined with silicious substance) and you have so-called
silicon. This substance is included by modern chemistry
among the “elements,” oxygen, nitrogen,
hydrogen, sulphur, etc. Silicon therefore, which is here
combined with oxygen, is a “chemical element.”
Now we must not forget that the silicon which lives thus
in the mineral quartz is spread over the Earth so as to
constitute 27-28% of our Earth's crust. All other
substances are present in lesser quantities, save oxygen,
which constitutes 47-48%. Thus an enormous quantity of
silicon is present. Now, it is true this silicon,
occurring as it does in rocks like quartz, appears in
such a form that it does not seem very important when we
are considering the outer, material aspect of the Earth
with its plant-growth. (The plant-growth is frequently
forgotten).
Quartz is insoluble in water — the water trickles
through it. It therefore seems — at first sight —
to have very little to do with the ordinary, obvious
conditions of life. But once again, you need only
remember the horse-tail — equisetum — which
contains 90% of silica — the same substance that is
in quartz — very finely distributed.
From all this you can see what an immense significance
silicon must have. Well-nigh half of what we meet on the
Earth consists of silica. But the peculiar thing is how
very little notice is taken of it. It is practically
excluded to-day even from those domains of life where it
could work most beneficially.
In the Medicine that proceeds from Anthroposophical
Science, silicious substances are an essential
constituent of numerous medicaments. A large class of
illnesses are treated with silicic acid taken internally,
or outwardly as baths. In effect, practically everything
that shows itself in abnormal conditions of the senses is
influenced in a peculiar way by silicon. (I do not say
what lies in the senses themselves, but that which shows
itself in the senses, including the inner senses —
calling forth pains here or there in the organs of the
body).
Not only so; throughout the “household of Nature,”
as we have grown accustomed to call it, silicon plays the
greatest imaginable part, for it not only exists where we
discover it in quartz or other rocks, but in an extremely
fine state of distribution it is present in the
atmosphere. Indeed, it is everywhere. Half of the Earth
that is at our disposal is of silica.
Now what does this silicon do? In a hypothetical form,
let us ask ourselves this question. Let us assume that we
only had half as much silicon in our earthly environment.
In that case our plants would all have more or less
pyramidal forms. The flowers would all be stunted.
Practically all plants would have the form of the cactus,
which strikes us as abnormal. The cereals would look very
queer indeed. Their stems would grow thick, even fleshy,
as you went downward; the ears would be quite stunted —
they would have no full ears at all.
That on the one hand. On the other hand we find another
kind of substance, which must occur everywhere throughout
the Earth, albeit it is not so widespread as the
silicious element. I mean the chalk or limestone
substances and all that is akin to these —
limestone, potash, sodium substances. Once more, if these
were present to a less extent, we should have plants with
very thin stems — plants, to a large extent, with
twining stems; they would all become like creepers. The
flowers would expand, it is true, but they would be
useless: they would provide practically no nourishment.
Plant-life in the form in which we see it to-day can only
thrive in the equilibrium and co-operation of the two
forces — or, to choose two typical substances, in
the co-operation of the limestone and silicious
substances respectively.
Now we can go still farther. Everything that lives in the
silicious nature contains forces which comes not from the
Earth but from the so-called distant planets, the
planets beyond the Sun — Mars, Jupiter and Saturn.
That which proceeds from these distant plants influences
the life of plants via the silicious and kindred
substances into the plant and also into the animal life
of the Earth. On the other hand, from all that is
represented by the planets near the Earth —
Moon, Mercury and Venus — forces work via the
limestone and kindred substances. Thus we may say, for
every tilled field: Therein are working the silicious and
the limestone natures; in the former, Saturn, Jupiter and
Mars; and in the latter, Moon, Venus and Mercury.
In this connection let us now look at the plants
themselves. Two things we must observe in the plant life.
The first thing is that the entire plant-world, and every
single species, is able to maintain itself — that
is to say, it evolves the power of reproduction. The
plant is able to bring forth its kind, and so on. That is
the one thing. The other is, that as a creature of a
comparatively lower kingdom of Nature, the plant can
serve as nourishment for those of the higher kingdoms.
At first sight, these two currents in the life and
evolution of the plant have little to do with one
another. For the process of development from the mother
plant to the daughter plant, the granddaughter plant and
so on, it may well seem a matter of complete indifference
to the formative forces of Nature, whether or no we eat
the plant and nourish ourselves thereby. Two very
different sets of interests are manifested here. Yet in
the whole nexus of Nature's forces, it works in this
way:—
Everything connected with the inner forte of reproduction
and growth — everything that contributes to the
sequence of generation after generation in the plants —
works through those forces which come down from the
Cosmos to the Earth: from Moon, Venus and Mercury, via
the limestone nature. Suppose we were merely considering
what emerges in plants such as we do not eat —
plants that simply renew themselves again and again. We
look at them as though the cosmic influences from the
forces of Venus, Mercury and Moon did not interest us.
For these are the forces involved in all that reproduces
itself in the plant-nature of the Earth.
On the other hand, when plants become foodstuffs to a
large extent — when they evolve in such a way that
the substances in them become foodstuffs for animal and
man, then Mars, Jupiter and Saturn, working via the
silicious nature, are concerned in the process. The
silicious nature opens the plant-being to the wide spaces
of the Universe and awakens the senses of the plant-being
in such a way as to receive from all quarters of the
Universe the forces which are moulded by these distant
planets. Whenever this occurs, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn
are playing their part. From the sphere of the Moon,
Venus and Mercury, on the other hand, is received all
that which makes the plant capable of reproduction.
To begin with, no doubt this appears as a simple piece of
information. But truths like this, derived from a
somewhat wider horizon, lead of their own accord from
knowledge into practice. For we must ask ourselves: If
forces come into the Earth from Moon, Venus and Mercury
and become effective in the life of plants, by what means
can the process be more or lese quickened or restrained?
By what means can the influences of Moon or Saturn on the
life of plants be hindered, and by what means assisted?
Observe the course of the year. It takes its course in
such a way that there are days of rain and days without
rain. As to the rain, the modern physicist investigates
practically no more than the mere fact that when it
rains, more water falls upon the Earth than when it does
not rain. For him, the water is an abstract substance
composed of hydrogen and oxygen. True, if you decompose
water by electrolysis, it will fall into two substances,
of which the one behaves in such and such a way, and the
other in another way. But that does not yet tell us
anything complete about water itself. Water contains far,
far more than what emerges from it chemically, in this
process, as oxygen and hydrogen.
Water, in effect, is eminently suited to prepare the ways
within the earthly domain for those forces which come,
for instance, from the Moon. Water brings about the
distribution of the lunar forces in the earthly realm.
There is a definite connection between the Moon and the
water in the Earth. Let us therefore assume that there
have just been rainy days and that these are followed by
a full Moon. In deed and in truth, with the forces that
come from the Moon on days of the full Moon, something
colossal is taking place on Earth. These forces spring up
and shoot into all the growth of plants, but they are
unable to do so unless rainy days have gone before.
We shall therefore have to consider the question: Is it
not of some significance, whether we sow the seed in a
certain relation to the rainfall and the subsequent light
of the full Moon, or whether we sow it thoughtlessly at
any time? Something, no doubt, will come of it even then.
Nevertheless, we have to raise this question: How should
we best consider the rainfall and the full Moon in
choosing the time to sow the seed? For in certain plants,
what the full Moon has to do will thrive intensely after
rainy days and will take place but feebly and sparingly
after days of sunshine. Such things lay hidden in the old
farmers' rules; they quoted a certain verse or proverb
and knew what they must do. The proverbs to-day are
outworn superstitions, and a science of these things does
not yet exist; people are not yet willing enough to set
to work and find it.
Furthermore, around our Earth is the atmosphere. Now the
atmosphere above all — beside the obvious fact that
it is airy — has the peculiarity that it is
sometimes warmer, sometimes cooler. At certain times it
shows a considerable accumulation of warmth, which, when
the tension grows too strong, may even find relief in
thunderstorms. How is it then with the warmth?
Spiritual observation shows that whereas the water has no
relation to silica, this warmth has an exceedingly
strong relation to it.
The warmth brings out and makes effective precisely those
forces which can work through the silicious nature,
namely, the forces that proceed from Saturn, Jupiter and
Mars. These forces must be regarded in quite a different
way than the forces from the Moon. For we must not forget
that Saturn takes thirty years to revolve round the Sun,
whereas the Moon with its phases takes only thirty or
twenty-eight days. Saturn is only visible for fifteen
years. It must therefore be connected with the growth of
plants in quite a different way, albeit, I need hardly
say, it is not only working when it shines down upon the
Earth; it is also effective when its rays have to pass
upward through the Earth.
Saturn goes slowly round, in thirty years. Let us draw it
thus: here is the course of Saturn. Sometimes it shines
directly on to a given spot of the Earth. But it can also
work through the Earth upon this portion of the
Earth's surface. In either case the intensity with which
the Saturn-forces are able to approach the plant life of
the Earth is dependent on the warmth-conditions of the
air. When the air is cold, they cannot approach; when the
air is warm, they can.
And where do we see the working of these forces in the
plant's life? We see it, not so much where annual plants
arise, coming and going in a season and only leaving
seeds behind. We see what Saturn does with the help of
the warmth-forces of our Earth, whenever the perennial
plants arise. The effects of these forces, which pass
into the plant-nature via the warmth, are visible to us
in the rind and bark of trees, and in all that makes the
plants, perennial. This is due to the simple fact that
the annual life of the plant — its limitation to a
short length of life — is connected with those
planets whose period of revolution is short. That, on the
other hand, which frees itself from the transitory nature
— that which surrounds the trees with bark and
rind, and makes them permanent — is connected with
the planetary forces which work via the forces of warmth
and cold and have a long period of revolution, as in the
case of Saturn: thirty years; or Jupiter: twelve years.
If someone wishes to plant an oak, it is of no little
importance whether or no he has a good knowledge of the
periods of Mars; for an oak, rightly planted in the
proper Mars-period, will thrive differently from one that
is planted in the Earth thoughtlessly, just when it
happens to suit.
Or, if you wish to plant coniferous forests, where the
Saturn-forces play so great a part, the result will be
different if you plant the forest in a so-called
ascending period of Saturn, or in some other Saturn
period. One who understands can tell precisely, from the
things that will grow or will not grow, whether or no
they have been planted with an understanding of the
connections of these forces. That which does not appear
obvious to the external eye, appears very clearly, none
the less, in the more intimate relationships of life.
Assume for instance that we take, as firewood, wood that
is derived from trees which were planted in the Earth
without understanding of the cosmic rhythms. It will not
provide the same health-giving warmth as firewood from
trees that were planted intelligently. These things enter
especially into the more intimate relationships of daily
life, and here they show their great significance. Alas!
the life of people has become almost entirely thoughtless
nowadays. They are only too glad if they do not need to
think of such things. They think it must all go on just
like any machine. You have all the necessary
contrivances; turn on the switch, and it goes. So do they
conceive, materialistically, the working of all Nature.
Along these lines we are eventually led to the most
alarming results in practical life. Then the great
riddles arise. Why, for example, is it impossible to-day
to eat such potatoes as I ate in my youth? It is so; I
have tried it everywhere. Not even in the country
districts where I ate them then, can one now eat such
potatoes. Many things have declined in their inherent
food-values, notably during the last decades.
The more intimate influences which are at work in the
whole Universe are no longer understood. These must be
looked for again along such lines as I have hinted at
to-day. I have only introduced the subject; I have only
tried to show where the questions arise — questions
which go far beyond the customary points of view. We
shall continue and go deeper in this way, and then apply,
what we have found, in practice.