Translated
by George Adams – edited here by FTS
Koberwitz(*),
7th
June, 1924.
My
dear Friends,
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 anthroposophical
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 home
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 this atmosphere is the
best possible 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 eurythmists; though
it may be the “discomforts” are shared by some of our
other visitors from a distance. 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 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
Mrs 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 that 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 that forces were present there which came from
the innermost heart of our movement and which drew us here, quite
as a matter of course, when 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. For my part, these thanks are felt most deeply, and I
beg Count Keyserlingk and his whole household 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 so distant from the
City. Whatever may be the inconveniences of which the Count has
spoken, 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 presupposes many things.
The Course itself
will show us how intimately the interests of Agriculture are
bound up 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 today appear —
inevitably — somewhat remote. Not everyone, perhaps, will
see at once what the connection is between this introduction and
our 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 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 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 much of this is manifest nonsense, although it is practised nowadays in the widest circles. For
it should go without saying, and everyone 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 farming work itself.
That is to say, unless one really knows what it means to grow
mangolds [a variety of beet], potatoes and corn! Without this
foundation one should not 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 theoretical
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 work 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 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 magnetic 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
people of to-day when applied to other things.
For example, there
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. People today say and do
many things in life and practice as though they were dealing only
with narrow, limited objects and not with effects and influences
from the entire Universe. Various 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
people 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 were
really behind what people had to do before a “science”
of these things existed. And the instincts frequently worked with
great certainty. Even today one is astonished again and again to
read the rules in the old “Peasants' Calendars.” How
infinitely wise and intelligent is what they express! Moreover,
the person of pure instincts is well able to avoid superstition
in these matters: and in these Calendars, besides the proverbs
full of deep meaning for the sowing and the reaping, we find all
manner of quips, designed to avoid nonsensical pretensions. 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 will certainly rain, or not, as
it will.
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 —
because they are becoming insecure — are less and less able
to provide. To this end we must include a far wider horizon in
our studies of the lives of plants and animals, 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
rain with the phases of the Moon. Yet on the other hand there is
a certain truth 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 exactly superstitiously, but from pure external
observations, he could see that certain periods of rain or of no
rain were connected with the moon and with its journey around the
earth.
He drew this as a
necessary conclusion from statistical results. However, that was
a time when orthodox science already wanted to ignore 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 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 rainwater.
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 what
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.
*
* *
Today, 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. We will not take our start from these however; 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 plants and animals.
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, 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 today 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 natural 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 nature.
If these things
were studied more intimately we would, for example, have a better
understanding of many things that happen in social life by
observing the periodicity of the sun-spots. People only fail to
observe these things because what in human life 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 say that it is all nonsense. If we
declare that certain illnesses show a seven day 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.
However, 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, on the other
hand, is still to a high degree immersed in the general life of
nature, including that of the earth.
Hence we shall
never understand plant life unless we bear in mind that
everything that 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 to
the highest degree. That is what I would like to point out in
this introductory lecture.
The Earth is
surrounded in the heavens 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 how it is connected with the earth.
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 by the siliceous substance in
the world. You will find siliceous substance for example, in the
beautiful mineral quartz, enclosed in the form of a prism and
pyramid; you will find the siliceous substance, combined with
oxygen, in the crystals of quartz.
Imagine the oxygen
removed (which in the quartz is combined with siliceous
substance) and you have silicon. This substance is included by
modern chemistry among the elements: oxygen, nitrogen, hydrogen,
sulfur, etc. Silicon therefore, which is here combined with
oxygen, is a chemical element.
Now we must not
forget that the silicon which exists 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 that 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, which
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 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 find on the Earth consists of silica. But the
peculiar thing is how very little notice is taken of it. It is
practically excluded today even from those domains of life where
it could work most beneficially.
In the Medicine
that proceeds from Anthroposophical Science, siliceous 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 particular 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).
Throughout the
“household of Nature,” as we have grown accustomed to
call it, silicon plays the greatest imaginable role, 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; the ears would be
quite stunted, they would have no full ears at all.
On the other hand
we find another kind of substance, which must occur everywhere
throughout the Earth, albeit not so widespread as the
siliceous 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 siliceous
substances respectively.
Now we can go still
farther. Everything that lives in the siliceous 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 siliceous 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 siliceous 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 plant life. The first thing is that the entire
plant-world, and every single species, is able to maintain itself
— that is, 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 not 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 force of reproduction and growth —
everything that contributes to the sequence of generation after
generation in 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 the plants which 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 siliceous nature, are concerned in the process.
The siliceous 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 molded 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.
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 less quickened or restrained? By what means
can the influences of Moon or Saturn on the life of plants be
hindered, and by what means helped?
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
today 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 warmth? Spiritual
observation shows that whereas 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 siliceous 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 around 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, even though, 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 around, 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 are concerned, coming and going in a season
and only leaving seeds behind. We see what Saturn does, with help
from 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 not 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 comes 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 today 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 usual points of view. We shall continue
and go deeper in this way, and then apply what we have found in
practice.
*Koberwitz is a village in
south-western Poland. Prior to 1945 it belonged to Germany.
Kobierzyce/Koberwitz was the location for Rudolf
Steiner's
Agriculture Course in 1924. It was a course of eight
lectures, there were 111 attendees from six countries, and it
led to the development of biodynamic
agriculture; it has been described as "the
first organic agriculture course"
The village has a population of 2,095.