LECTURE VII
THE
RHYTHMIC
SYSTEM,
SLEEPING AND
WAKING,
IMITATION
August 11th, 1923.
The transition
from early childhood to the school age is marked by the change of teeth at
about the seventh year, and in studying this period it must above all be
remembered that up to the seventh year the child is working, as it
were, as an inner sculptor and with the creative forces of the head
is organizing and moulding his whole being. All that has been present
in his environment, including the moral qualities, now plays a part
in the development of the vascular system, the circulation of the
blood and the processes of the breath, so that as a physical being
man bears within him throughout his earthly life the results of the
imitative period of his childhood from birth up to the time of the
second dentition.
It cannot,
of course, be said that he is conditioned only by this, for naturally
much can be rectified in the body later by the exercise of moral forces
and by inner activity of soul. Still we should realize with what a wonderful
heritage we can endow the child on his path of life if we are able to
prepare his physical organism to be the bearer of moral and spiritual
qualities, if we help the work of the sculptor within him up to the
age of seven by ourselves living a moral and spiritual life at his side.
Certain details
and other matters of which I spoke yesterday, will come to light as the
lectures proceed.
The teacher,
then, must understand that when the child has passed his seventh year and
comes then to actual school age, these plastic forces are transformed into
an activity in the soul which must
be reckoned with by his teacher. The child longs for pictures,
imagery, and this fact should indicate to us the fundamental
principle of his education at this age. From the time of the second
dentition up to the age of adolescence, the development of the
rhythmic system, i.e., the
breathing and the circulation of the blood and also the digestive
functions, is all-important. The soul of the child during that period
longs for pictorial imagery and his rhythmic system
is there to be dealt with by
the teacher in an organic bodily sense. And so a pictorial,
imaginative element must dominate all that the child is given to do;
a musical quality,
I might even say, must pervade the relationship between teacher and
pupil. Rhythm, measure, even melody must be there as the basic
principle of the teaching, and this element demands that the teacher
must himself feel and experience this ‘musical’ quality.
It is the
rhythmic system that predominates in the child's organic nature during
this first period of school life, and the entire teaching must be pervaded
by rhythm. The teacher must feel himself so inwardly living in this
musical element that true rhythm may prevail in the class-room. He
must be able to feel this instinctively.
It thus becomes
evident that during the early years of school life (that is to say after
the age of seven) all true education must develop from the foundation
of art. The
reason why education in our day leaves so much to be desired is
because modern civilization is not conducive to the development of
artistic feeling. I am not here referring to the individual arts, but
to the fact that sound educational principles can only arise from a
civilization penetrated with artistic quality. This has very great
significance.
And if we can
imbue our whole teaching with artistic quality, we influence the rhythmic
system in the child. Such lessons actually make the child's breathing
and circulation more healthy. On the other hand, our task is also to
lead the child out into life, to develop a sound faculty of judgment
for later life, and so during this age we must teach him to use his
intelligence, though never by constraint. There must also, naturally,
be some physical training and exercise, for it is our duty to help
the child to have a healthy body in later life, in so far as his
destiny permits. But to accomplish all this we need a deeper insight
into the whole nature of man.
In our modern
civilization, where all eyes are concentrated on outer, material things,
no attention is given to the consideration of the state of sleep,
although man devotes to it one-third of his earthly life. This
alternating rhythm of our waking and sleeping is of the greatest
possible significance. Never should it be thought that man is
inactive while he sleeps. He is inactive only in so far as the outer,
external world is concerned, but as regards the health of his body,
and more especially the welfare of his soul and spirit, sleep is
all-important. True education can provide for a right life of sleep,
for the activities which belong to man's waking hours are carried
over into the condition of sleep, and this is especially the case
with the child.
At the base
of all artistic creation lies in reality the unceasing activity of the
rhythmic system. Breathing and the action of the heart continue without
intermission from birth to death. It is only the processes of thought
and will that induce fatigue. Thinking and movements of the body
cause fatigue, and since they everywhere come into play, we may say
that all life's activities cause fatigue. But in the case of the
child we must be especially watchful to guard against over-fatigue.
The best possible way to do this is to see that throughout the
all-important early school years our teaching has a basic artistic
quality, for then we call upon the child's rhythmic system where he
tires least of all.
What then will
happen if we make too great a demand on the intellect, urging the child
to think for himself, forcing him to think? Certain organic forces that
tend inwardly to harden the body are brought into play. These forces are
responsible for the salty deposits in the body and are needed in the
formation of bone, cartilage and sinew, in all those parts of the
body in short that have a tendency to become rigid. This normal
rigidity is over-developed if intellectual thinking is forced. These
hardening forces are normally active during our waking consciousness,
but if we make undue claims upon the intellect, if we force the child
to think too much, we are sowing the seeds of premature arterial
sclerosis.
Thus here too
it is essential to develop by means of a true observation of the nature of
the child a fine sense of the degree to which we may call with safety
upon the different forces at work. A most vital principle is here at
stake. If I allow the child to think, if I teach him to write, for
instance, in an intellectual way, saying: ‘Here are the
letters and you must learn them,’ I am overstraining the mental
powers of the child and laying the germs of sclerosis, at any rate of
a tendency to sclerosis. The human being as such has no inner
relationship whatever to the letters of modern script. They are
little ‘demons’ so far as human nature is concerned, and
we have to find the right way to approach them. This way is found if
to begin with we stimulate the child's artistic feeling by letting
him paint or draw the lines and colours that flow of themselves on to
the paper from his innermost being. Then, as the child's artistic
sense is aroused, one always feels — and feeling is here the
essential thing — how greatly man is enriched by this artistic
activity. One feels that intellectuality impoverishes the soul, makes
a man inwardly barren, whereas artistic activity makes him inwardly
rich, so rich in fact that this richness must somehow be modified.
The pictorial and artistic tends of itself to pass into the more
attenuated form of concepts and ideas, and must in a measure be
impoverished in this process of transference. But if, after having
stimulated the child artistically, we then allow the intellectuality
to develop from the artistic feeling, it will have the right intensity.
The intellect too will lay hold of the body in such a way as to bring
about a rightly balanced and not an excessive hardening process.
If we force
intellectual powers in the child we arrest growth; but we liberate the
forces of growth if we approach the intellect by way of art. For this reason
at the Waldorf School value is placed upon artistic rather than upon
intellectual training at the beginning of school life. The teaching
is at first pictorial, non-intellectual; the relation of the teacher
to the child is pervaded by a musical, rhythmic quality, so that by
such methods we may achieve the degree of intellectual development
that the child needs. The mental training in this way becomes at the
same time the very best training for the physical body.
To the more
sensitive observer there is abundant evidence in our present civilization
that many grown-up people are too inwardly rigid. They seem to walk about
like wooden machines. It is really a characteristic of our day that
men and women carry their bodies about like burdens, whereas a truer
and more artistically conceived educational system so develops the
human being that every step, every gesture of the hand to be devoted
later to the service of humanity brings to the child an inner sense
of joy and well-being. In training the intellect we free the soul
from the bodily activities, but if we over-intellectualize, man will
go through life feeling that his body is “of the earth
earthly,” that it is of no value and must be overcome. Then he
may give himself up to a purely mystical life of soul and spirit,
feeling that the spirit alone has value. Right education, however,
also leads us by ways of truth to the spirit that creates the body.
God in creating the world did not say: Matter is evil and man must
avoid it. No world would have come into being if the Gods had thought
like this. The world could only emanate from the Divine because the
Gods ordained that spirit should be directly and immediately active
in matter.
If man realizes
that his highest life in every sphere is that which is directed according
to divine intention, he must choose a form of education that does not
alienate him from the world, but makes him a being whose soul and spirit
stream down into the body throughout his whole life. A man who would deny
the body when he immerses himself in thought, is no true thinker.
* * *
The waking life
is beneficially affected if we develop the intellect from the basis of
the artistic, and all physical culture has a definite relation to the
child's life of sleep. If we wish really to understand the form that
healthy culture and exercise of the body should take, we must first
ask this question: ‘How does bodily exercise affect the life of
sleep?’
All bodily
activity arises supersensibly from the will, is
indeed an out-streaming of will-impulses into the organism of
movement. Even in purely mental activity the will is active and is
flowing into the limbs. If we sit at a desk and think out decisions
which are then carried out by others, our will-impulses are,
nevertheless, streaming into our limbs. In this instance we
simply hold them back, restrain them. We ourselves may sit still, but
the orders we give are really an in-streaming of the will into our
own limbs. We must therefore first discover what is of
importance in these physically active impulses of the will if
their unfolding is to have the right effect upon the state of sleep;
and the following must be taken into account.
Everything that
is transformed into action by the human will sets up a certain organic
process of combustion. When I think, I
burn up something in my organism, only this inner process of burning
up must not be compared with the purely chemical combustion of the
science of physics. When a candle is alight there is an external
process of combustion, but only materialistic thinking can compare
this inner process of combustion with the burning of a lighted
candle. In the human organization the processes of outer Nature are
taken hold of by forces of the soul and spirit, so that within the
human body, and even within the plant, the outer substances of nature
are quite differently active. Similarly the burning process within
the human being is altogether different from the process of
combustion we see in the lighted candle. Yet a certain kind of
combustion is always induced in the body when we will, even
though the impulse does not pass into action.
Now because we
generate this process of inner combustion, we bring about something in
our organism that sleep alone can rectify. In a certain sense we should
literally burn up our bodies if sleep did not perpetually reduce
combustion to its right degree of intensity. All this must again be
understood in a subtle sense and not in the crude sense of Natural
Science. Sleep regulates the inner burning by spreading it over
the whole organism, whereas otherwise it would confine itself
to the organs of movement.
Now there are
two ways of carrying out bodily movements. Think of the kind of exercises
children are often given to do. The idea is (everything is
“idea” in a materialistic age in spite of its belief that
it is dealing with facts) that the child ought to make this or that
kind of movement in games or in gymnastics, because only so will he
grow up to be a civilized human being. As a rule movements which
grown-up people practice are considered the best, for since the
ideal is that the child should grow up an exact copy of his elders,
he is made to do the same kind of gymnastics. That is to say, a certain
opinion is held by ordinary people and must apply also to the child.
As a result of
this abstract public opinion, outer influence is brought to bear on the
child. He is given this or that exercise merely because it is
customary to make these movements. But this sets up processes of
combustion which the human organism is no longer capable of
adjusting. Restless sleep is the result of mere external methods of
physical culture.
These things
cannot be observed by the methods of ordinary physiology, but they take
place nevertheless in the finer and more delicate processes of the human
body. If we give children these conventional gymnastic exercises,
they cannot get the deep, sound sleep they need, and the bodily
constitution cannot be sufficiently refreshed and restored in sleep.
If on the other
hand we can give cur educational methods an artistic form (and remember,
in artistic activities the whole nature comes into play) a certain
hunger for physical activity will arise quite naturally in the child,
for, as we have seen, the excessive richness of the artistic sense
reacts as an impulse towards the more sobering element of the
intellect. Nothing so easily induces a craving for bodily exercise as
artistic activity. If the child has been occupied artistically for
about two hours — and the length of time must be carefully
arranged — something that longs for expression in movements of
the body begins to stir in the organism. Art creates a real hunger
for true movements of the body.
Thus gradually
we should lead over into games, into free movements in space, what the hands
have expressed in painting and drawing, or the voice in singing. Also
the child should be encouraged to learn some kind of musical
instrument at the earliest possible age, for this involves direct
physical activity. The inner forces must be allowed to stream out
into movements in space, which should be a continuation, as it were,
of the inner organic processes called up by the artistic work in the
school. Physical training is then a natural development from the
methods of teaching that are right for this age of life, and there is
an intimate connection between the two.
If the child
is given only such physical exercises as his artistic work creates a need
for, he will get the kind of sleep he needs. A right provision for the
waking life can thus cause a right life of sleep in which all the organic
processes of combustion are harmonized. Bodily and mental training
alike must develop from the artistic element. Thus especially so far
as the body is concerned, nothing is more essential than that the
teacher himself should be an artist through and through. The more joy
the teacher can experience in beautiful forms, in music, the more he
longs to pass from abstract words into the rhythms of poetry; the
more the plastic sense is alive in him the better will he be able to
arrange such games and exercises as offer the child an opportunity
for artistic expression. But alas! our civilization to-day would like
the spirit to be easy of access, and people do not feel inclined to
strive too strenuously for spiritual ideals.
As I said in
a previous lecture most people, while admitting the inadequacy of their
own education, claim at the same time to know what education ought to be
and are quite ready to lay down the law about it. And so it comes
about that there is little inclination to take into consideration the
finer processes of the human organism, as to how, for example, an
artistic conception of gymnastic is determined by the artistic
activity itself. What are the movements demanded by the human
organism itself? No artistic feeling is brought to bear on the
solution of these problems. The reading of books is the main
occupation of the modern intellectual class; people study Greek
ideals and a revival of the ‘Olympic Games’ has become a
catch phrase, though this ‘revival’ is of a purely
external nature. The Olympic Games are never studied from the point
of view of the needs of the human organism, as they were in Greece,
for the modern study of them is all book-learning, based on documents
or outer traditions that have been handed down.
Now modern
men are not ancient Greeks, and they do not understand the part played
by the true Olympic Games in the culture of Greece. For if one penetrated
fully into the spirit of ancient Greece, one would say: the children
were instructed by the gymnasts in dancing and wrestling, as I have
described. But why were they thus instructed? This was due to the
Olympic Games, for these were not only artistic but also religious in
their nature — a true offspring of Greek culture. In their
Olympic Games the Greeks lived wholly in an atmosphere of art and
religion, and with a true educational instinct they could bring these
elements into the gymnastic exercises given to children.
Abstract,
inartistic forms of physical culture are contrary to all true education,
because they hinder the development of the human being. It would be far
better to-day if, instead of trying to find out from books how to revive
the Olympic Games, people made some attempt to understand the inner
nature of man. For then they would realize that all physical
education not based on the inner needs of the organism sets up an
excessive process of combustion. The result of performing such
exercises in childhood will lead in later life to flabbiness of the
muscular system. The muscles will be incapable of carrying out the
behests of the soul and spirit.
While on the
one hand a false intellectual education inwardly so hardens the body that
the bones become burdensome instead of moving with resilience in harmony
with the soul, on the other hand the limbs are weakened through too
strong a tendency to the process of combustion. Man has gradually
become a creature who is dragged down on the one hand by the burden
of the salts that have formed within him, and on the other hand is
always attempting to escape, to free himself from those organic
processes which are due to faulty combustion. An intimate knowledge
of man is necessary before a true relationship can be established
between these two processes of combustion and salt-formation. Only
when we lead over artistic feeling into the intellectual element can
the tendency to over-rigidity be balanced by the right degree of
combustion. This right balance then affects the life of sleep, and
the child sleeps deeply and peacefully. The restlessness and
fidgetiness caused by most modern systems of bodily training are
absent. Children who are forced to practise the wrong kind of
physical exercises fidget in soul during sleep, and in the morning,
when the soul returns to the body, restlessness and faulty processes
of combustion are set up in the organism.
Our conceptions
must therefore be widened by knowledge, for all this will show you that a
profound understanding of human nature is essential. If in this
earthly existence we hold man to be the most precious creation
of the Gods, the great question must be: What have the Gods placed
before us in man? How can we best develop the human child entrusted
to us here on earth?
* * *
Up to the
seventh year the child is through and through an imitative being, but from
the time of the change of teeth onwards, his inner nature longs to shape
itself according to the models set up by a natural authority.
A long time
ago now I wrote
The Philosophy of Spiritual Activity,
and in view of what I said there, I do not think you will accuse me of
laying undue stress upon the principle of authority in any sphere of
social life. Although man's self-expression is directed by an impulse
of spiritual freedom, it is just as fully subject to law as the life
of Nature. It is therefore not for us to decide according to our
likes or dislikes what kind of education should be given to our
children between the time of the change of teeth and adolescence.
Education should rather be dictated by the needs of human nature
itself. Up to the second dentition, at about the seventh year, the
child imitates in every gesture, nay, even in the pulsations of the
venal blood and in the rhythms of the breath, everything that goes on
around him. From birth to the age of seven, the environment is the
model which the child copies. But from the seventh to the fourteenth
or fifteenth years, to the age of puberty, he must unfold a free
spiritual activity under the influence of natural authority. This
must be so if development is to be healthy and free and if the child
is rightly to use his freedom in later life.
The faculty
of personal judgment is not ripe until the fourteenth or fifteenth year.
Only then has the child developed to a point at which the teacher is
justified in appealing to his faculty of judgment. At the age of
fourteen or fifteen he can reason for himself, but before this age we
injure him, we retard his development if we enter into “the why
and wherefore.” The whole of later life is immeasurably
benefited if between the seventh and fourteenth years (approximately,
of course) we have been able to accept a truth not because we see its
underlying reason — indeed, our intellect is not mature enough
for this — but because we feel that the teacher whom we revere
and love feels it to be true. Our sense of beauty grows in the right
way if we are able to accept the teacher's standard of the beautiful
— the teacher to whom we give a spontaneous, and not a forced
respect.
Our feeling
for the good will also be a guide in later life if we have not been forced
to observe petty rules, but have realized from the teacher's own
warm-hearted words how much he loves a good deed and hates a bad one.
His words can make us so warmly responsive to the good and so coldly
averse from evil that we turn naturally to the good because the
teacher himself loves it. Then we grow up, not bound hand and foot by
dogma, but filled with a spontaneous love for what the teacher
declares to be true, beautiful and good. If during the first period
of school life we have learnt to adopt his standard of truth, beauty
and goodness because he has been able to express them in artistic
imagery, the impulse for these virtues becomes a second nature, for
it is not the intellect that develops goodness. A man who has over
and over again been told dogmatically to do this, or net to do that,
has a cold, matter-of-fact feeling for the good, whereas one who has
learnt in childhood to feel sympathy with goodness and antipathy to
evil has unfolded in his rhythmic nature the capacity to respond to
the good and to be repelled by what is evil. He has a true enthusiasm
for the one and power to resist the other. In later life it is as
though under the influence of evil he cannot breathe properly, as if
by evil the breathing and the rhythmic system were adversely affected.
It is really
possible to achieve this if after the child has reached his seventh year
we allow the principle of natural authority to supersede that of imitation
which, as we have seen, must be pre-dominant in the earlier years.
Naturally authority must not be enforced for this is just the error
of those methods of education that attempt to enforce authority by
corporal punishment.
I have heard
that what I said yesterday in this connection seemed to suggest that this
form of punishment had been entirely superseded. As a matter of fact, what
I said was that the humanitarian feelings of to-day would like
to do away with it. I was
told that the custom of caning in England is still very general and
that my words had created a wrong impression. I am sorry that this
should have been so, but the point I want now to make is that in true
education authority must never be enforced and above all not by the
cane. It must arise naturally from what we ourselves are.
In body, soul and spirit we
are true teachers if our observation of human nature is based upon a
true understanding of man. True observation of man sees in the
growing human being a work of divine creation. There is no more
wonderful spectacle in the whole world than to see how definiteness
gradually emerges from indefiniteness in the child's nature; to see
how irrelevant fidgeting changes into movements dominated by
the inner quality of the soul.
More and more the inner being expresses itself outwardly and the
spiritual element in the body comes gradually to the surface. This
being whom the Gods have sent down to earth becomes a revelation of
God Himself. The growing human being is indeed His most splendid
manifestation. If we learn to know this growing human being not
merely from the point of view of ordinary anatomy and physiology, but
with understanding of how the soul and spirit stream down into the
body, then as we stand with pure and holy reverence before that which
flows from divine depths into the physical form our knowledge
becomes in us pure religion. Then as teachers we have a certain
quality that is perceptible to the child as a natural authority in
which he places spontaneous trust. Instead of resorting to the cane
or using any form of inner punishment such as I mentioned yesterday
we should arm ourselves with a true knowledge of man, with the
faculty of true observation. This will grow into an inner moral
sense, into a profound reverence for God's creation. We then have a
true position in the school and we realize how absolutely essential
it is in all education to watch for those moments when the child's
nature undergoes certain changes. Such a metamorphosis occurs, for
instance, between the ninth and tenth years, though with one child it
may be earlier with another later. As a rule it occurs between the
ages of nine and ten.
Many things in
life are passed by unperceived by the materialist. True observation of
the human being tells us that something very remarkable happens between
the ninth and tenth years. Outwardly, the child becomes restless; he
cannot come to terms with the outer world and seems to draw back from
it with a certain fear. In a subtle way this happens to almost every
child, indeed if it does not occur the child is abnormal. In the
child's life of feeling, a great question arises between the ninth
and tenth years; he cannot formulate this question mentally, he
cannot express it in words. It lies wholly in his life of feeling,
and this fact intensifies the longing for its recognition. What does
the child seek at this age?
Till now,
reverence for the teacher has been a natural impulse within him, but at
this age he wants the teacher to prove himself worthy of this reverence
by some definite act. Uncertainty rises in the child, and when we
observe this we must by our demeanour respond to it. It need not be
something specially contrived. We may perhaps be especially loving in
our dealings with the child — make a special point of speaking
to him — so that he realizes our affection and sympathy. If we
watch for this moment between the ninth and tenth years and act
accordingly, the child is saved as it were from a precipice. This is
of far-reaching significance for if this sense of insecurity remains
it will continue through the whole of later life, not necessarily in
this particular form, but none the less expressed in the character,
temperament and bodily health.
At all times
we must understand how the spirit works in matter and hence upon the
health of the body and how the spirit must be nurtured so that it may
rightly promote the health. A true art of education unmistakably
shows us that we must conceive of this co-operation of spirit and
matter as harmonious and never as in opposition. Modern civilization
with its tendency to separate everything is guilty in regard to
educational questions. Its conceptions of Nature are materialistic,
and when people are dissatisfied with the results of this conception
of nature they take refuge in spiritualism, attempting to reach the
spiritual by methods that are anything but scientific.
This is one
of the tragedies of our day. A materialism which intellectualizes
everything is now only able to understand the concepts itself
has evolved about matter; materialism however can never reach the
heart of matter. And modern spiritualism? Its adherents want the
spirits to be tangible, to reveal themselves materially by means of
table-turning, physical phenomena and so on. They must not be allowed
to remain spirits, and so invisible, intangible, because men are too
lazy to approach them in a super-sensible form.
These things
are really tragic. Materialism speaks only of matter, never of the spirit.
But as a matter of fact materialism does not even understand matter, but
speaks of it only in empty abstractions, while spiritualism, imagining
that it is speaking of the spirit, is concerned only with matter.
Our civilization
is divided into materialism and spiritualism — a strange phenomenon
indeed! For materialism understands nothing of matter and
spiritualism nothing of spirit.
Man is both
body and spirit, and true education must bring about a harmony between
the two. It can never be too strongly emphasized that the goal of
education must be to give man an understanding of the spirit in
matter and a spiritual understanding of the material world. We
find the spirit if we truly understand the material world, and if we
have some comprehension of the spirit we find, not a materialized
spirituality, but a real and actual spiritual world.
If humanity is
to find a path of ascent and not be led to its downfall, we need the reality
of the world of spirit and an intelligent comprehension of the world of
matter.
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