by Rudolf Steiner
In this last lecture, I shall try as far as possible to
complete what I have already said, and to bring forward certain practical
considerations. In the ensuing discussion I shall make such additions as may
prove necessary.
The practical hints I propose to deal with today are not such as can be
embodied in general formulae, but need to be greatly modified according to
the particular situation and the persons applying them. For this very reason
it is necessary that you should gain Spiritual-Scientific insight into this
sphere, which will enable you intelligently to adapt to the individual case
the various steps to be taken. I would ask you to consider how little insight
there is into that most important matter, the feeding of our farm animals.
Merely to indicate new methods of feeding is not sufficient.
How, then, ought our farm animals to be fed? In my opinion improvement
will certainly come if, in the teaching of agriculture, an insight is gained
into the essential meaning of feeding as such. This is what I shall try to do
today. Completely wrong ideas prevail as to what nutrition signifies both for
man and animal. It is not merely the crude process of taking in foodstuffs
and, after certain changes, of storing these up in the organism, then
excreting what is not needed. This view carries with it the idea, for
instance, that the animal should not be overfed, that its food should be as
nourishing as possible and thus the bulk of it be utilised. And if we are of
a materialistic turn of mind, we like to distinguish between actual
foodstuffs and such substances that promote what is called combustion in the
organism. We then build up all sorts of theories and put them into practice,
finding, as always, that some work and some do not or that they only work for
a time, having to be modified in one way or another.
What else indeed could we expect? We speak of processes of combustion in
the organism. But no such thing takes place there. The combination of any
substance whatever with oxygen in the organism means something quite
different from a process of combustion. Combustion is a process which takes
place in mineral, inanimate nature, and just as a living organism is
something different from a quartz crystal, what is called
“combustion†in a living organism is not the
same as the dead process of burning, but something which is living and
sentient. The mere fact of using words in this way has directed our thoughts
along certain channels and has done great mischief. To speak of combustion in
the organism is to speak in a slipshod way. This does not matter if, by
instinct or tradition, we still retain a right view of the facts. But if
these slip-shod expressions are subjected to an attack of
“psychopathia Professoralis,†then clever
theories begin to be built upon them. If we depend upon these theories, what
we do will be hopelessly wide of the mark, for such theories no longer cover
the facts of the case. This is characteristic of our times. We are always
doing something which does not fit in with what is going on in Nature. In
this matter of nourishment, therefore, it is important to learn with what we
are really dealing.
Let us recall what I said yesterday about the plant having a physical and
etheric body and being more or less surrounded from above by the astral
element. The plant does not reach the astral element but is surrounded by it.
If the plant enters into a special relation with the astral element, as in
the case of the formation of edible fruits, a kind of food is produced which
will strengthen the astral element in the animal and human organism. If one
can look into this process, the very habitus of a plant and so on reveals
whether or not it is capable of promoting some process in the animal
organism. But we must also consider the opposite pole. Here something of
great importance takes place. I have touched on this before, but now that the
general principles of nutrition are being established, I must emphasise it
still more.
Since we are dealing with feeding, let us start from the animal. In the
animal the threefold organism is not so sharply defined as it is in man. The
animal has a system of nerve and senses and a metabolic and limb system.
These are clearly defined one from the other. But in many animals the limits
of the rhythmic system are indefinite; both the nerves and senses system and
the metabolic system trespass upon the limits of the rhythmic system. We
should therefore choose other terms when we speak of animals. In man one is
quite right in speaking of a threefold organism: but in the case of animals
one ought to speak of the nerve and senses system as being localised
primarily in the head, and of the metabolic and limb system as being in the
hind quarters and limbs but at the same time diffused throughout the whole
body. In the middle of the body the metabolism becomes more rhythmical as
does also the nervous system, and there both flow into one another. The
rhythmic system has a less independent existence in the animal. Rather the
opposite poles become indistinct as they merge into one another. We should
therefore speak of the animal organism as being twofold, the extremes
inter-penetrating at the middle.
All the substances contained in the head system — I am
speaking of animals, but the same is true of man — are of
earthly matter. Even in the embryo, earthly matter is led into the head
system. The embryo must be so organised that its head receives its matter
from the earth. In the head, therefore, we have earthly matter. But the
substances which we bear in the metabolic and limb organisation, those which
permeate our intestines, our limbs, our muscles and bones, etc., these
substances do not come from the earth but from what has been absorbed from
the air and warmth above the earth. It is cosmic substantiality. This is
important. When you see an animal's claw, you must not think of it as having
been formed by the food which the animal has eaten and which has gone to the
claw and been deposited there. This is not the case. It is cosmic matter
taken up through the senses and breathing. What the animal eats serves only
to stimulate its powers of movement so that the cosmic matter can be driven
into the metabolic and limb organisation, then can be driven into the claw
and similarly distributed throughout the whole organism.
With forces, as opposed to substances, it is the other way round. Because
the senses are centred in the head and take in impressions from the cosmos,
the forces in the head are cosmic in nature. To understand what happens in
the metabolic and limb organisation, you need only think of walking, which
means that the limbs are permeated with earthly gravity; the forces are
earthly ones. Thus the limb system contains cosmic substances permeated by
earthly forces.
It is extremely important that the cow or the ox, if used for working,
should be fed so as to absorb the greatest possible amount of cosmic
substance and that the rood which enters its stomach should produce the
necessary strength to lead this cosmic substance into its limbs, muscles and
bones. It is equally important to realise that the earthly substances in the
head have to be drawn from the food which has been worked upon in the stomach
and is led into the head. In this sense, the head relies upon the stomach in
a way in which the big toe does not, and we must realise quite clearly that
the head can only work upon this nourishment, which comes to it from the
metabolism, if it can at the same time draw in sufficient cosmic forces. If,
therefore, animals, instead of being left in stuffy stables where no cosmic
forces can reach them, are led into meadows and given every opportunity of
entering into relation with their environment through the perceptions of
their senses, then we may see results such as appear in the following
examples.
Imagine an animal standing in a dark and stuffy stable before its manger,
the contents of which have been measured out by human wisdom. Unless its diet
is varied, as it only can be out of doors, this animal will show a very great
contrast to one which seeks out its food with its sense of smell, guided by
this organ in its search for cosmic forces, seeking and finding its
nourishment by itself and developing its whole activity in doing so. An
animal that is fed from a manger will not show immediately how devoid it is
of cosmic forces, for it has inherited a certain amount of them. But it will
breed descendants to whom these cosmic forces are no longer transmitted. Such
an animal will become weak, beginning from the head; it will not be able to
nourish its body because it cannot absorb the necessary cosmic substances.
This will show you that it is not enough simply to say:
“This kind of fodder for one case, that for
another.†Rather one must have a clear idea of the value for the
animal's whole organisation that such and such methods of feeding have.
But we must go a step further. What is actually contained in the head?
Earthly substance. If you take out the brain, the noblest part of an animal,
you will have before you a piece of earthly substance. The human brain also
contains earthly substance. But in both the forces are cosmic. What is the
human brain for? It serves as a support for the I. The animal, let it be
remembered, has as yet no I; its brain is only on the way to I-formation. In
man it goes on and on to the complete forming of the I. How then did the
animal's brain come into existence? Let us look at the whole organic process.
All of what eventually manifests in the brain as earthly matter has simply
been excreted from the organic process. Earthly matter has been excreted in
order to serve as a base for the I. Now the processing of the food in the
digestive tract and metabolic and limb system produces a certain quantity of
earthly matter which is able to enter into the head and to be finally
deposited as earthly matter in the brain. But a portion of the food stuff is
eliminated in the intestine before it reaches the brain. This part cannot be
further transformed and is deposited in the intestine for ultimate
excretion.
We come here upon a parallel which will strike you as being very
paradoxical but which must not be overlooked if we wish to understand the
animal and human organisations. What is brain matter? It is simply the
contents of the intestines brought to the last stage of completion.
Incomplete brain-excretion passes out through the intestines. The contents of
the intestines are in their processes closely akin to the contents of the
brain. One could put it somewhat grotesquely by saying that what spreads
itself out in the brain is a highly advanced dung-heap. And yet the statement
is essentially correct. By a peculiar organic process, dung is transformed
into the noble matter of the brain, there to become the foundation for the
development of the I. In man the greatest possible quantity of intestinal
dung is transformed into cerebral excrement because man bears his I on the
earth. In animals the quantity is less. Hence there remain more forces in the
intestinal excrement of an animal which we can use for manuring. In animal
manure, there is therefore more of the potential I element, since the animal
itself does not reach I-hood. For this reason animal dung and human dung are
completely different. Animal dung still contains I-potentiality. In manuring
a plant, we bring this I-potentiality into contact with the plant's root. Let
us draw the plant in its entirety.
Down here you have the root, up there the unfolding leaves and blossoms.
And just as above, in the leaves and blossoms, the astral element is acquired
from contact with the air, so the I-potentiality develops below in the root
through contact with the manure.
The farm is truly an organism. The astral element is developed above, and
the presence of orchard and forest assists in collecting it. If animals feed
in the right way on the things that grow above the earth, then they will
develop the right I-potentiality in the manure they produce, and this
I-potentiality, working on the plant from the root, will cause it to grow
upwards from the root in the right way according to the forces of gravity. It
is a wonderful interplay, but in order to understand it one must proceed step
by step.
From this you can see that a farm is a kind of individuality, and that
both animals and plants should be retained within this mutual interplay. If,
therefore, instead of using the manure supplied by the animals belonging to
the farm, we sell off these animals and obtain manure from Chile, we are in a
sense doing harm to Nature. In doing this we trespass the bounds of a closed
circuit, which should be self-sufficient. Of course, things must be ordered
in such a way that the circuit really is self-contained. One need only have
on the farm as many animals and of such kinds as will supply sufficient and
appropriate manures. And one must also see to it that the animals have such
plants to eat as they like and seek instinctively.
At this point experiments tend to become complicated because every case is
different. But the main thing is to know the directions which the experiments
should take. Practical rules will be found, but they should all proceed from
the principle that a farm should be, as far as possible, self-contained. I
say as far as possible because Spiritual Science takes a practical not a
fanatical view of things. Under our present economic order this cannot be
fully attained; but the ideal is one which we should make every effort to
reach.
On this basis, then, we can find concrete instances of the relation
between the organism formed by livestock and the plant or
“fodder organism.†Let us first consider this
relation in broad general lines.
To begin with, the root. The root generally develops in the soil and
through the manure it becomes permeated with I-potentiality, which it
absorbs. This absorption is determined and aided if the root can find salts
in the right quantities in the soil around it. Let us assume that we are
considering the nature of these roots merely from the point of view of the
foregoing reflections. Then we shall suggest that roots are the food which,
when it is absorbed into the human organism, will find its way most easily to
the head by way of the digestive process. We shall therefore provide a diet
of roots when we require to give the head material substances to enable the
cosmic forces which work through the head to exercise their plastic activity.
Imagine someone saying to himself: “I must give roots to
this animal which requires earthly substance in its head in order to
stimulate its sense-connections with its environment, that is, with the
cosmic environment.†Does not this immediately suggest the calf
and the carrot? A calf eating carrots portrays this whole process. The moment
something like this is put forward and you know how things really are and
their true connections, you will know immediately what is to be done. It is
simply a matter of realising how this mutual process works.
But let us proceed to the next stage. Once the calf has eaten the carrot,
once the substance really has been introduced into the head, the converse
process must be able to begin: the head must begin to work with forces of
volition, thus begetting within the organism forces which can be worked into
it. It is not enough for the “carrot dung†to
be deposited in the head; from what is deposited and in the course of
disintegration, streams of force must come which will enter the rest of the
organism. In short, there must be a second food substance which will enable
one part of the body which has already been fed (in this case the head) to
work in the right way on the rest of the organism.
Well, I have given the animal the carrot fodder. And now I want the
animal's body to be permeated with the forces which are developed from the
head. For this, as a second fodder, we need a plant with a spindly structure,
the seed of which will have gathered into itself these
“spindly†forces. We immediately think of
flaxseed (linseed) or something similar. If you feed young cattle on carrots
and linseed — or carrots and fresh hay (which is equally
suitable) — this will bring into full operation the forces
already latent in the animals. We should therefore try to give young cattle
food which promotes, on the one hand, the forces of I-potentiality, and, on
the other, the complementary streams of astral force working from above
downwards. For the latter purpose, those plants are especially suitable which
have long, spindly stems and as such have been turned into hay.
Just as we have looked into this concrete case so we must approach
agriculture as a whole: of every single thing, we must know what happens to
it when it passes either from the animal into the soil, or from the plant
into the animal.
Let us pursue the subject yet further. Let us take the case of an animal
which should become particularly strong in the middle region, where the head
or nervous organisation tends to develop in the direction of breathing and
the metabolic organisation tends to have a rhythmic character. Which animals
have to be strong in this particular region? They are the milch animals. The
secretion of milk shows that the animal in question is strong in this region.
The point to observe here is that the right co-operation should take place
between the current going from the head backwards (mainly a streaming of
forces) and the current going from the animal's hind quarters forward (mainly
a streaming of substance). If these two currents co-operate and intermingle
in the right way, the result will be an abundant supply of rich milk. For
good milk contains substances prepared in the metabolic system and which,
without having entered into the sexual system, have become akin to it. It is
a sexual process within the metabolic system. Milk is simply a sexual
secretion on another level. It is a substance which, on its way to becoming
sexual secretion, is penetrated and transformed by the forces working from
the head. The whole process can be seen quite clearly.
Now for processes which should arise in this way, we must choose a diet
which will work less powerfully towards the head than do roots which contain
I-potentiality; neither may the diet, since it is to be connected with the
sexual system, contain too much of the astral element, of that which goes
towards the blossom and fruit of the plant. In short, if we wish to find a
diet that will produce milk, we must choose the part of the plant which lies
between blossom and root, that is, the green and leafy part.
If we wish to bring about an increase in the milk supply of an animal
whose milk production we have reason to believe could be increased, we shall
certainly reach the desired end if we proceed as follows:
Suppose I have a cow and feed it with green fodder. I take plants in which
the process of fruit-formation has been developed within the process of
leaf-formation. Such, for example, are the pod-bearing or leguminous plants
and especially the clovers. In clover, the would-be fruit develops as leaf
and foliage. A cow that is fed in this way will perhaps not show much result;
but when the cow comes to calve, the calf will grow into a cow that yields
good milk. The effects of reformed foddering usually need a generation in
which to show themselves.
There is however one point to be borne in mind. As we know, modem doctors
go on using certain traditional remedies without knowing why they do so,
except that the remedies have continued to prove effective. The same thing
happens in farming. People go on using traditional methods without knowing
why they do so, and in addition to this they make experiments and tests, try
to ascertain exactly the quantity of food that should be given for fattening
cattle, milch cows, etc. But here again we have what always arises in
haphazard experimenting. You know what happens when you have a sore throat
and go and see your friends. They will all offer you some cure or other and
in half an hour you will have collected a whole chemist's shop. If you were
to take all these remedies, they would cancel each other out and certainly
ruin your stomach, and your sore throat would not be any better. Because of
the circumstances, something which ought to be quite simple has been made
extremely complicated. Something similar to this happens when one experiments
with fodder for cattle. For it means, does it not, that one is using a food
which is suitable in in one particular case, but is ineffective in another.
Then a second food is added to the first and finally one has a mixture of
foods, each of which has a special significance for young cattle perhaps, or
for fattening stock. But the whole thing has become so complicated that one
loses one's grasp of it all, because one loses sight of the interplay of
forces involved. Or perhaps the different ingredients cancel each other out
in their effects. This is what often happens and especially with the modern
college trained student-farmer. Such a person looks things up in a book or
tries to remember what he may have learned somewhere;
“Young cattle must be fed in this way, and cattle for
fattening in that.†But this does not help, because the fodder
recommended by the book may well conflict with the fodder one is already
giving.
The proper way to proceed is to start from the basis of thought which I
have mentioned and which simplifies cattle-feeding so that it may be taken in
at a glance. I really mean at a glance, as we saw in the case of the carrots
and linseed. We can easily survey this. Think how one can then live in the
midst of the farm, acting consciously and with deliberation. This knowledge
leads not to a complication but to a simplification of methods of feeding.
Much that has been discovered by experiment is right, but it is unsystematic
and inexact. Or rather it has the sort of exactness which is really inexact
because things are muddled up and cannot be seen through. Whereas what I have
recommended is simple and its effects can be seen in the animal organism.
Suppose now that we wish to consider the flowering and fruiting part of
the plant. We must go further, and observe what is fruit-like in the rest of
the plant. This recalls a feature of plant-life that always delighted Goethe,
namely the fact that the plant has throughout its whole body the tendency
towards what is normally specialised it certain parts. With most plants we
take the seed which has formed from the blossom and place it in the earth in
order to produce more plants. But we do not do this in the case of the
potato. Here we use the eyes of the tubers. This is the fruiting part of the
potato plant, but like many processes in Nature, it is not carried out to the
end. We can, however, heighten its activity by a procedure which bears an
external resemblance to combustion. For instance, if you chop up into thin
straws roots or tubers and dry them for fodder, the stuff will be enormously
strengthened in its activity and brought a stage nearer to the fruit stage if
you spread it out in the sun and allow it to steam a little.
Practices like this are based upon a deep and wonderful instinct. We can
ask: how did people first come to cook their food? People began to cook their
food because they gradually discovered that what develops during fruit
formation is mainly due to processes akin to cooking: burning, warming,
drying and evaporating. All these processes tend to make the fruit and seed
and indirectly the other parts of the plant, especially the higher parts,
more fitted to develop the forces that are necessary to the metabolic and
limb system in the animal. Even uncooked the blossom and fruit of a plant
work on the animal's metabolic and digestive system and primarily through the
forces they develop, not through their substance, for it is the forces of the
earth which are needed by the metabolic and limb system, and in the measure
in which it needs them, it must receive them. Take the case of the animals
which pasture on steep mountain sides. Unlike those in the plains, they climb
about under difficult conditions owing to the fact that the ground is not
level. There is all the difference for those animals between level and
slanting ground. They require food that will develop those forces in limb and
muscle which are energised by the will. Otherwise they would not be good for
either labour, milking or fattening. It is therefore important that they
should eat plenty of those aromatic mountain plants in which blossom and
fruit have undergone an additional treatment by the sun, resembling a process
of natural cooking.
But similar results can be achieved and strength given to muscle and limb
by artificial methods such as roasting and boiling, etc. Flower and fruit are
most suitable for this, especially of those plants which from the beginning
develop towards fruiting and do not waste their time, as it were, in growing
foliage. People should take careful note of these things, especially those
who are on the slippery slope that leads to laziness and inertia. An instance
of this is the person who wants to be a mystic. “But
how,†he asks, “can I become a mystic if I am
working with my hands all day? I ought to be completely at rest and not be
constantly stirred to activity by something outside or inside me. If I no
longer waste my forces by fussing about all day, I shall become a real
mystic. I must therefore arrange my diet in such a way as to become a
mystic.†And he goes in for a diet of raw food and ceases to cook
for himself. But the matter is not so easy as all this. For a person of weak
physical constitution who takes to a diet of raw food when he is already on
the downward path that leads to mysticism, will naturally accelerate the
process; he will become more and more
“mystical†— that is, more
and more inert. What happens here to a man can be applied to the animal and
can teach us how to stir it to greater activity. But the opposite may also
occur. We may have the case of a person of strong constitution who
nevertheless has developed the queer idea of becoming a mystic. In this case
his own inherent forces and those absorbed through the raw food will continue
to develop and to work in him, and the diet may not do him much harm. And if,
by this means, he stirs up the forces which generally remain below and
produce gout and rheumatism - if he stirs these up and transforms them, then
his raw diet will make him stronger. There are two sides to every question.
No general rule can be laid down, but we must know how these principles work
in individual cases. The advantage of vegetarianism is that it calls forth
out of the organism forces which were lying fallow and which produce gout,
rheumatism, diabetes, etc. When only vegetable food is taken, these forces
serve to make it ripe for human assimilation. But when animal food is
consumed, these same forces are deposited in the organism and remain unused,
or rather they begin to work from out of themselves, depositing the products
of metabolism in various parts of the body, or, as in diabetes, they lay
claim for their own use to substances which should remain spread out over all
the organs. We only understand these matters when we look more deeply.
This brings us to the question of the fattening of animals. Here we must
say we should regard the animal as a kind of sack to be filled as full as
possible with cosmic substance. 'A fat pig is really a most heavenly animal'.
Its fat body, apart from its system of nerves-and-senses, is made up entirely
of cosmic, not of earthly substance. The pig needs the food which it enjoys
so much in order to fill itself with cosmic substance, which it absorbs on
all sides and then distributes throughout its body. It must take in this
substance, which has to be drawn from the cosmos, and distribute it. And the
same is true of all fattened animals. You will find that animals will fatten
best on the part of the plant which tends towards fruit formation, and has
been heightened in its activity by cooking or steaming. Or, if you give them
something which has in it an enhanced fruit-process, for instance turnip,
which belongs to a species in which this process has been enhanced and which
has become larger through long cultivation. In general, the best kind of food
for fattening cattle is that which will at least help to distribute the
cosmic substance, i.e. the part of the plant which tends to fruit-formation
— and which has in addition received the proper treatment.
These conditions are in the main fulfilled by certain kinds of oil cakes and
the like. But we must also see to it that the animal's head is not entirely
neglected and that in this fattening treatment a certain amount of earthly
substance is introduced. The fodder just mentioned needs to be complemented
by something for the head, though a smaller quantity, as the head does not
require so much. In fattening an animal we should therefore add a small
quantity of roots.
There is a substance which, as substance, has no particular function in
the organism. In general, one can say that roots have a function in
connection with the head, blossoms in connection with the metabolic and limb
system, and leaf and stem in connection with the rhythmic system within the
human organism. There is, though, a substance that can aid the whole animal
organism, because it is related to all its members. That substance is salt.
And as of all the ingredients in the food of both man and animal, salt is the
least in quantity, we can see that it is not how much we take in which
matters, but what we take in. Even small quantities of substance will fulfil
their purpose if they are of the right kind.
This brings us to a very important point and one on which I should like to
see very accurate experiments made. These could be extended to the
observation of human beings who use the article of food I am now going to
deal with. As you know, the introduction of the tomato as a food is of
comparatively recent date. It is very popular as a food and also extremely
valuable as an object of study. One can learn a very great deal both from
growing tomatoes and from eating them. Those who give the matter some thought
— and there are some nowadays — are of
the opinion and rightly so, that the consumption of the tomato by man is of
great significance. And it can well be extended to the animal; it would be
quite possible to accustom animals to tomatoes. It is, in fact, of great
significance for everything in the body which, while in the organism, tends
to fall out of the organism and to form an organisation of its own. We have
the statement made by an American that in some circumstances the use of
tomatoes can act as a dietetic means of correcting an unhealthy tendency of
the liver. The liver is the most independent organ in the human organism, and
diseases of the liver – and especially those of the animal
liver – can in general be combated by a diet of tomatoes.
Once again we are gaining insight into the connection between plant and
animal. Anyone suffering from a cancer - I say this in parenthesis - from a
disease which tends to make one organ in the body independent from the rest,
ought at once to be forbidden tomatoes.
Why does the tomato have a special effect upon the parts of the organism
which tend to be independent and specialised in their function? This is
connected with the conditions which the tomato requires for its own growth.
During its growth, the tomato feels happiest in the vicinity of manure which
retains the form it had when it separated from the animal. Manure composed of
a haphazard collection of all kinds of refuse, not worked upon in any way,
will ensure the growing of very fine tomatoes. And if compost heaps could be
made of tomato stalks and leaves i.e. of the tomato's own refuse, the result
would be quite brilliant. The tomato does not wish to go beyond its own
boundaries. It would rather remain within its own strong vitality, it is the
most unsocial being in the plant kingdom. It does not wish to admit anything
strange to its own nature and especially anything which has already been
through the rotting process. And this is connected with the fact that this
plant has a special effect on any independent organisation within the animal
and human bodies.
In this respect, the tomato bears a certain resemblance to the potato,
also a very independent plant in its effects — so much so
indeed that after passing very easily through the digestive system, it
penetrates into the brain and makes that organ independent even of the
workings of the rest of the organs. And among the factors which have led men
and animals to become more materialistic in Europe, we must certainly reckon
the excessive consumption of potatoes. The consumption of potatoes should
serve only to stimulate the brain and head-system. But it should not go
beyond this. These are the things that show in an objective way the intimate
connection between agriculture and social life. It is infinitely important
that agriculture should be so related to the social life.
I have only indicated these matters on general lines and, for some time to
come, these should serve as the foundation for the most varied experiments,
such as should lead to most striking results. From this you will be able to
understand how the contents of these lectures should be treated. I am
thoroughly in agreement with the decision which has been come to by the
agriculturalists who have attended this course, namely, that what has been
said at these lectures should for the present remain within this circle and
be developed by actual experiment and research. This same circle should
decide when in their opinion these experiments have been carried sufficiently
far to be made public. A number of persons not directly connected with
farming, but whose presence has been permitted through the organisers'
tolerance because of their interest in the subject, have also attended this
course. They will, like the character in the well-known opera, be required to
put a padlock on their mouths and not fall into the common anthroposophical
mistake of spreading things as far and wide as possible. For what has so
often done us harm is the talk of the individual, dictated not by a desire to
convey real information but simply by a desire to repeat what has been heard.
It makes all the difference whether these things are said by a farmer or by a
layman. Suppose these things are repeated by laymen as an interesting new
chapter of anthroposophical teaching. What will happen? Exactly the same as
has happened in the case of other lecture cycles. People on all sides,
including farmers, will hear it . But there are different ways of hearing. A
farmer hearing these things from another farmer will think at first:
“What a pity. The poor fellow has gone crazy.â€
He will say this the first and even the second time. But when finally a
farmer sees something with his own eyes, then it is hardly wise for him to
dismiss it as nonsense. But if he has only heard of a new method from people
who are not professionally concerned with it, but only interested in the
subject, then naturally it all comes to nothing and the whole thing will lose
its effect; it will be discredited from the start. Therefore those friends
who have been present and are not members of the Agricultural Circle must
exercise restraint and not repeat what they have heard wherever they go, as
is so often done in Anthroposophy. This course has been decided on by the
Agricultural Circle and the decision announced by our esteemed Count
Keyserlingk, and I entirely agree with it.
And now that we have come to the end of this Course, I should like to
express my pleasure at your having come to hear what was said, and at the
prospect of your taking part in all the developments which will take place in
the future. I think you will agree with me when I say that what we have been
doing is useful work, and as such possesses a deep inner value.
There are, however, two things to which I would draw your attention. The
first is the trouble that has been taken by Count and Countess Keyserlingk
and all their household to make this course the success it has been. This
required energy, self-sacrifice, consciousness of the end in view, a sense of
anthroposophical values, a real identification with the cause of
Anthroposophy. And this is why the work we have all been engaged upon, a work
which will undoubtedly be of service to the whole of humanity, has seemed to
take the form of a wonderful festival, for which we give our heartfelt thanks
to Count and Countess Keyserlingk.
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