{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_5641/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_5641","id":"gutenberg_5641","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/5641","summary":null,"tags":["Anthroposophy","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Category: Science - Physics","Cosmology","Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von, 1749-1832"],"text":"This eBook was produced by Adam Kane.\n\n\n\n\nMAN OR MATTER\n\nIntroduction to a Spiritual Understanding of Nature\non the Basis of Goethe's Method of Training Observation and Thought\n\nby\n\nERNST LEHRS Ph. D.\n\n\nPart I\n\nSCIENCE AT THE THRESHOLD\n\nI. INTRODUCTORY\n\nThe author's search for a way of extending the boundaries of scientific\nunderstanding. A meeting with Rudolf Steiner, and with the work arising\nfrom his teachings.\n\nII. WHERE DO WE STAND TO-DAY?\n\nThe self-restriction of scientific inquiry to one-eyed colourblind\nobservation. Its effect: The lack of a true conception of 'force'.\n\nIII. THE ONLOOKER'S PHILOSOPHIC MALADY\n\nThought - the sole reality and yet a pure non-entity for the modern\nspectator. Descartes and Hume. Robert Hooke's 'proof' of the\nnon-reality of conceptual thinking. The modern principle of\nIndeterminacy - a sign that science is still dominated by the Humean\nway of thinking.\n\nIV. THE COUNTRY THAT IS NOT OURS\n\nElectricity, man's competitor in modern civilization. The onlooker in\nsearch of the soul of nature. Galvani and Crookes. Paradoxes in the\ndiscovery of electricity. 'Something unknown is doing we don't know\nwhat.'\n\n\nPart II GOETHEANISM - WHENCE AND WHITHER\n\nV. THE ADVENTURE OF REASON\n\nKant and Goethe. Goethe's study of the plant - a path toward seeing\nwith the eye-of-the-spirit. Nature a script that asks to be read.\n\nVI. EXCEPT WE BECOME ...\n\nSpiritual kinsmen of Goethe in the British sphere of human culture.\nThomas Reid's philosophic discovery, its significance for the\novercoming of the onlooker-standpoint in science. The picture of man\ninherent in Reid's philosophy. Man's original gift of remembering his\npre-earthly life. The disappearance of this memory in the past, and its\nre-appearance in modern times. Pelagius versus Augustine. Wordsworth\nand Traherne. Traherne, a 'Reidean before Reid was born'.\n\nVII. 'ALWAYS STAND BY FORM'\n\nRuskin and Howard - two readers in the book of nature. Goethe's\nmeteorological ideas. His conception of the urphenomenon. Goethe and\nHoward.\n\nVIII. DYNAMICS VERSUS KINETICS\n\nThe onlooker science - by necessity a 'pointer-reading' science. The\nonlooker's misjudgment of the cognitive value of the impressions\nconveyed by the senses. The Parallelogram of Forces - its fallacious\nkinematic and its true dynamic interpretation. The roots in man of his\nconcepts 'mass' and 'force'. The formula F=ma. The origin of man's\nfaculty of mathematical thinking.\n\nIX. PRO LEVITATE\n\n(a) ALERTNESS CONTRA INERTNESS\n\nLimitations of the validity of the concept 'inertia'. Restatement of\nNewton's first law. Introduction of the term 'magical' as opposed to\nmechanical. The phenomenon of the rising arm. Introduction of the term\n'alertness' as opposed to 'inertness' (inertia).\nVan Helmont's discovery of the gaseous state of matter. The four\nElements. The old concept of 'Chaos'. Young and old matter. The natural\nfacts behind the ancient fire rites. The event on Mount Sinai.\n\n(b) LEVITY CONTRA GRAVITY\n\nThe Contra Levitatem maxim of the Florentine Academicians. Ruskin's\nwarning against science as an interpreter of its own observations. How\nman's inner nature and the outer universe interpret one another. The\nSolfatara phenomenon. The super-physical character of Levity.\n\nX. THE FOURTH STATE OF MATTER\n\nThe need of raising scientific inquiry to nature's upper border. The\nlaws of Conservation, their origin and their validity. Joule and Mayer.\nExtension of the field-concept from the central to the peripheral\nfield-type. Natural phenomena brought about by the suctional effect of\nthe earth's levity-field. The different conditions of matter seen in\nthe light of the levity-gravity polarity. Heat, the fourth state of\nmatter. Procreation of physical substance - a natural fact. The case of\nTillandsia. The problem of the trace-elements. Homeopathy, an example\nof the effect of dematerialized matter. The meteorological circuit of\nwater. The nature of lightning.\n\nXI. MATTER AS PART OF NATURE'S ALPHABET\n\nThe origin of the scientific conception of the chemical element. Study\nof some prototypes of physical substances in the light of the\nlevity-gravity polarity. The functional concept of matter. The complete\norder of polarities - cold-warm, dry-moist - in the doctrine of the\nfour elements. The position of sulphur and phosphorus in this respect.\nVulcanism and snow-formation as manifestations of functional sulphur\nand phosphorus respectively. The process of crystallization. Carbon as\na mediator between sulphur and phosphorus. The alchemical triad.\n\nXII. SPACE AND COUNTER-SPACE\n\nGeometrical considerations required by the recognition of levity. The\nvalue in this respect of projective geometrical thinking. Geometrical\npolarities of the first and second order.\n\nXIII. 'RADIANT MATTER'\n\nElectricity and magnetism as manifestations of interacting levity and\ngravity. Electricity - a product of disintegrating matter. Modern\nphysics, no longer a 'natural' science. Eddington's question,'\nManufacture or Discovery?' Man's enhanced responsibility in the age of\nphysical science.\n\nXIV. COLOURS AS 'DEEDS AND SUFFERINGS OF LIGHT'\n\nGoethe's Farbenlehre - the foundation of an optical science based on\nthe colour-seeing faculty of the eye. The modern physicist's view of\nthe Newtonian interpretation of the spectrum. A short history of\nGoethe's search for a satisfactory conception of Light and Colour. His\ndiscovery of Newton's cardinal error. First results of his own studies.\nThe 'negative' spectrum.\n\nXV. SEEING AS 'DEED' - I\n\nGoethe's way of studying the totality of the act of seeing. The 'inner\nlight'.\n\nXVI. SEEING AS 'DEED' - II\n\nExtension of Goethe's inquiry to a pursuit of the act of seeing beyond\nthe boundaries of the body.\n\nXVII. OPTICS OF THE DOER\n\nPurging optics from its onlooker-concepts. The role of foregone\nconclusions in the physical conception of light. The true aspect of the\nso-called velocity of light.\n\nXVIII. THE SPECTRUM AS A SCRIPT OF THE SPIRIT\n\nEvaluation of the foregoing studies for a new understanding of the\nprismatic phenomenon. The secret of the rainbow. Intimation of new\npossibilities of experimental research guided by the new conception of\nthe spectrum.\n\n\nPart III TOWARDS A NEW COSMOLOGY\n\nXIX. THE COUNTRY IN WHICH MAN IS NOT A STRANGER\n\n(a) INTRODUCTORY NOTE\n\nFrom Goethe's seeing with the eye-of-the-spirit to Spiritual\nImagination. Levity (Ether) as revealed to Spiritual Imagination.\n\n(b) - (e) WARMTH LIGHT SOUND LIFE\n\nThe four modifications of ether. Their relation to the four elements.\n\nXX. PRO ANIMA\n\n(a) THE WELL-SPRINGS OF NATURE'S DEEDS AND SUFFERINGS\n\nThe sentient (astral) forces of the cosmos as governors of the various\ninteractions between levity and gravity. The astral aspect of the\nplanetary system. Its reflexion in earthly substances. Beginnings of an\nastral conception of the human organism in modern physiology.\n\n(b) HEARING AS DEED\n\nA Goetheanistic study of acoustic phenomena and of the sense of\nhearing. From hearing with the ear-of-the-spirit to Spiritual\nInspiration.\n\n(c) KEPLER AND THE 'MUSIC OF THE SPHERES'\n\nGoethe's view of Kepler. Kepler's third law - a revelation of the\nmusical order of the universe.\n\nXXI. KNOW THYSELF\n\nINDEX\n\n\nIllustrations\n\nIN COLOUR\n\nA The relation of the electrical polarity to Levity and Gravity\n\nB The Spectrum phenomenon as conceived by Goethe\n\nC Light under the action of a transverse field-gradient\n\nMONOCHROME\n\nI. Robert Hooke's 'proof' of the non-reality of human concepts\n\nII. Leaf-metamorphosis\n\nIII. Leaf-metamorphosis\n\nIV. Goethe's sketch of a cloud-formation\n\nV. A Snow-Crystal\n\nVI. A cluster of Calcite crystals\n\nVII. Various species of bacteria\n\nVIII. Various species of fresh-water algae\n\n\nAuthor's Note\n\nThe author makes grateful acknowledgment of the help he has gained from\nother works in the wide field opened up by Rudolf Steiner, and of his\ndebt to the friends who in various ways assisted him in preparing his\nmanuscript.\n\nQuotations have been made from the following books by kind permission\nof their respective publishers:\n\nThe Life of Sir William Crookes by E. E. Fournier d'Albe (Messrs.\nErnest Benn Ltd.);\nMan the Unknown by A. Carrel (Messrs. Hamish Hamilton Ltd.);\nThe Philosophy of Physical Science and The Nature of The Physical\nWorldly A.. Eddington (University Press, Cambridge);\nScience and the Human Temperament by E. Schr\u00c3\u00b6dinger (Messrs. George Allen\nand Unwin Ltd.);\nCenturies of Meditations and Poetical Works by Th. Traherne (Messrs. P.\nJ. and A. E. Dobell).\n\n\nPreface\n\nIn this book the reader will find expounded a method of investigating\nnature by means of which scientific understanding can be carried across\nthe boundaries of the physical-material to the supersensible sources of\nall natural events, and thereby into the realm where is rooted the true\nbeing of man.\n\nThe beginnings of this method were worked out by Goethe more than 150\nyears ago. The nineteenth century, however, failed to provide any\nfertile ground for the development of the seeds thus sown. It was left\nto Rudolf Steiner, shortly before the end of the century, to recognize\nthe significance of 'Goetheanism' for the future development not only\nof science but of human culture in general. It is to him, also, that we\nowe the possibility of carrying on Goethe's efforts in the way required\nby the needs of our own time.\n\nThe following pages contain results of the author's work along the path\nthus opened up by Goethe and Rudolf Steiner - a work begun twenty-seven\nyears ago, soon after he had made the acquaintance of Rudolf Steiner.\nWith the publication of these results he addresses himself to everyone\n- with or without a specialized scientific training - who is concerned\nwith the fate of man's powers of cognition in the present age.\n\n*\n\nThe reader may welcome a remark as to the way in which this book needs\nto be read.\n\nIt has not been the author's intention to provide an encyclopaedic\ncollection of new conceptions in various fields of natural observation.\nRather did he wish, as the sub-title of the book indicates, to offer a\nnew method of training both mind and eye (and other senses as well), by\nmeans of which our modern 'onlooking' consciousness can be transformed\ninto a new kind of 'participating' consciousness. Hence it would be of\nno avail to pick out one chapter or another for first reading, perhaps\nbecause of some special interest in its subject-matter. The chapters\nare stages on a road which has to be travelled, and each stage is\nnecessary for reaching the next. It is only through thus accepting the\nmethod with which the book has been written that the reader will be\nable to form a competent judgment of its essential elements.\n\nE. L.\n\nHawkwood College Easter 1950\n\n\nPART I\n\nScience at the Threshold\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nIntroductory\n\nIf I introduce this book by relating how I came to encounter Rudolf\nSteiner and his work, more than twenty-five years ago, and what decided\nme not only to make his way of knowledge my own, but also to enter\nprofessionally into an activity inspired by his teachings, it is\nbecause in this way I can most directly give the reader an impression\nof the kind of spirit out of which I have written. I am sure, too, that\nalthough what I have to say in this chapter is personal in content, it\nis characteristic of many in our time.\n\nWhen I first made acquaintance with Rudolf Steiner and his work, I was\nfinishing my academic training as an electrical engineer. At the end of\nthe 1914-18 war my first thought had been to take up my studies from\nwhere I had let them drop, four years earlier. The war seemed to imply\nnothing more than a passing interruption of them. This, at any rate,\nwas the opinion of my former teachers; the war had made no difference\nwhatever to their ideas, whether on the subject-matter of their\nteaching or on its educational purpose. I myself, however, soon began\nto feel differently. It became obvious to me that my relationship to my\nsubject, and therefore to those teaching it, had completely changed.\nWhat I had experienced through the war had awakened in me a question of\nwhich I had previously been unaware; now I felt obliged to put it to\neverything I came across.\n\nAs a child of my age I had grown up in the conviction that it was\nwithin the scope of man to shape his life according to the laws of\nreason within him; his progress, in the sense in which I then\nunderstood it, seemed assured by his increasing ability to determine\nhis own outer conditions with the help of science. Indeed, it was the\nwish to take an active part in this progress that had led me to choose\nmy profession. Now, however, the war stood there as a gigantic social\ndeed which I could in no way regard as reasonably justified. How, in an\nage when the logic of science was supreme, was it possible that a great\npart of mankind, including just those peoples to whom science had owed\nits origin and never-ceasing expansion, could act in so completely\nunscientific a way? Where lay the causes of the contradiction thus\nrevealed between human thinking and human doing?\n\nPursued by these questions, I decided after a while to give my studies\na new turn. The kind of training then provided in Germany at the\nso-called Technische Hochschulen was designed essentially to give\nstudents a close practical acquaintance with all sorts of technical\nappliances; it included only as much theory as was wanted for\nunderstanding the mathematical calculations arising in technical\npractice. It now seemed to me necessary to pay more attention to\ntheoretical considerations, so as to gain a more exact knowledge of the\nsources from which science drew its conception of nature. Accordingly I\nleft the Hochschule for a course in mathematics and physics at a\nuniversity, though without abandoning my original idea of preparing for\na career in the field of electrical engineering. It was with this in\nmind that I later chose for my Ph.D. thesis a piece of experimental\nresearch on the uses of high-frequency electric currents.\n\nDuring my subsequent years of stuffy, however, I found myself no nearer\nan answer to the problem that haunted me. All that I experienced, in\nscientific work as in life generally, merely gave it an even sharper\nedge. Everywhere I saw an abyss widening between human knowing and\nhuman action. How often was I not bitterly disillusioned by the\nbehaviour of men for whose ability to think through the most\ncomplicated scientific questions I had the utmost admiration!\n\nOn all sides I found this same bewildering gulf between scientific\nachievement and the way men conducted their own lives and influenced\nthe lives of others. I was forced to the conclusion that human\nthinking, at any rate in its modern form, was either powerless to\ngovern human actions, or at least unable to direct them towards right\nends. In fact, where scientific thinking had done most to change the\npractical relations of human life, as in the mechanization of economic\nproduction, conditions had arisen which made it more difficult, not\nless, for men to live in a way worthy of man. At a time when humanity\nwas equipped as never before to investigate the order of the universe,\nand had achieved triumphs of design in mechanical constructions, human\nlife was falling into ever wilder chaos. Why was this?\n\nThe fact that most of my contemporaries were apparently quite unaware\nof the problem that stirred me so deeply could not weaken my sense of\nits reality. This slumber of so many souls in face of the vital\nquestions of modern life seemed to me merely a further symptom of the\nsickness of our age. Nor could I think much better of those who, more\nsensitive to the contradictions in and around them, sought refuge in\nart or religion. The catastrophe of the war had shown me that this\ndepartmentalizing of life, which at one time I had myself considered a\nsort of ideal, was quite inconsistent with the needs of to-day. To make\nuse of art or religion as a refuge was a sign of their increasing\nseparation from the rest of human culture. It implied a cleavage\nbetween the different spheres of society which ruled out any genuine\nsolution of social problems.\n\nI knew from history that religion and art had once exercised a function\nwhich is to-day reserved for science, for they had given guidance in\neven the most practical activities of human society. And in so doing\nthey had enhanced the quality of human living, whereas the influence of\nscience has had just the opposite effect. This power of guidance,\nhowever, they had long since lost, and in view of this fact I came to\nthe conclusion that salvation must be looked for in the first place\nfrom science. Here, in the thinking and knowing of man, was the root of\nmodern troubles; here must come a drastic revision, and here, if\npossible, a completely new direction must be found.\n\nSuch views certainly flew in the face of the universal modern\nconviction that the present mode of knowledge, with whose help so much\ninsight into the natural world has been won, is the only one possible,\ngiven once for all to man in a form never to be changed. But is there\nany need, I asked myself, to cling to this purely static notion of\nman's capacity for gaining knowledge? Among the greatest achievements\nof modern science, does not the conception of evolution take a foremost\nplace? And does not this teach us that the condition of a living\norganism at any time is the result of the one preceding it, and that\nthe transition implies a corresponding functional enhancement? But if\nwe have once recognized this as an established truth, why should we\napply it to organisms at every stage of development except the\n.highest, namely the human, where the organic form reveals and serves\nthe self-conscious spirit?\n\nPutting the question thus, I was led inevitably to a conclusion which\nscience itself had failed to draw from its idea of evolution. Whatever\nthe driving factor in evolution may be, it is clear that in the\nkingdoms of nature leading up to man this factor has always worked on\nthe evolving organisms from outside. The moment we come to man himself,\nhowever, and see how evolution has flowered in his power of conscious\nthought, we have to reckon with a fundamental change.\n\nOnce a being has recognized itself as a product of evolution, it\nimmediately ceases to be that and nothing more. With its very first act\nof self-knowledge it transcends its previous limits, and must in future\nrely on its own conscious actions for the carrying on of its\ndevelopment.\n\nFor me, accordingly, the concept of evolution, when thought through to\nthe end, began to suggest the possibility of further growth in man's\nspiritual capacities. But I saw also that this growth could no longer\nbe merely passive, and the question which now beset me was: by what\naction of his own can man break his way into this new phase of\nevolution? I saw that this action must not consist merely in giving\nouter effect to the natural powers of human thinking; that was\nhappening everywhere in the disordered world around me. The necessary\naction must have inner effects; indeed, it had to be one whereby the\nwill was turned upon the thinking-powers themselves, entirely\ntransforming them, and so removing the discrepancy between the thinker\nand the doer in modern man.\n\nThus far I could go through my own observation and reflexion, but no\nfurther. To form a general idea of the deed on which everything else\ndepended was one thing; it was quite another to know how to perform the\ndeed, and above all where to make a start with it. Anyone intending to\nmake a machine must first learn something of mechanics; in the same\nway, anyone setting out to do something constructive in the sphere of\nhuman consciousness - and this, for me, was the essential point - must\nbegin by learning something of the laws holding sway in that sphere.\nBut who could give me this knowledge?\n\nPhysiology, psychology and philosophy in their ordinary forms were of\nno use to me, for they were themselves part and parcel of just that\nkind of knowing which had to be overcome. In their various accounts of\nman there was no vantage point from which the deed I had in mind could\nbe accomplished, for none of them looked beyond the ordinary powers of\nknowledge. It was the same with the accepted theory of evolution; as a\nproduct of the current mode of thinking it could be applied to\neverything except the one essential - this very mode of thinking.\nObviously, the laws of the development of human consciousness cannot be\ndiscovered from a standpoint within the modern form of that\nconsciousness. But how could one find a viewpoint outside, as it were,\nthis consciousness, from which to discover its laws with the same\nscientific objectivity which it had itself applied to discovering the\nlaws of physical nature?\n\nIt was when this question stood before me in all clarity that destiny\nled me to Rudolf Steiner and his work. The occasion was a conference\nheld in 1921 in Stuttgart by the Anthroposophical Movement; it was one\nof several arranged during the years 1920-2 especially for teachers and\nstudents at the Hochschulen and Universities. What chiefly moved me to\nattend this particular conference was the title of a lecture to be\ngiven by one of the pupils and co-workers of Rudolf Steiner - 'The\nOvercoming of Einstein's Theory of Relativity'.1\n\nThe reader will readily appreciate what this title meant for me. In the\ncircles where my work lay, an intense controversy was just then raging\nround Einstein's ideas. I usually took sides with the supporters of\nEinstein, for it seemed to me that Einstein had carried the existing\nmode of scientific thinking to its logical conclusions, whereas I\nmissed this consistency among his opponents. At the same time I found\nthat the effect of this theory, when its implications were fully\ndeveloped, was to make everything seem so 'relative' that no reliable\nworld-outlook was left. This was proof for me that our age was in need\nof an altogether different form of scientific thinking, equally\nconsistent in itself, but more in tune with man's own being.\n\nWhat appealed to me in the lecture-title was simply this, that whereas\neveryone else sought to prove Einstein right or wrong, here was someone\nwho apparently intended, not merely to add another proof for or against\nhis theory-there were plenty of those already - but to take some steps\nto overcome it. From the point of view of orthodox science, of course,\nit was absurd to speak of 'overcoming' a theory, as though it were an\naccomplished fact, but to me this title suggested exactly what I was\nlooking for.\n\nAlthough it was the title of this lecture that drew me to the Stuttgart\nConference (circumstances prevented me from hearing just this lecture),\nit was the course given there by Rudolf Steiner himself which was to\nprove the decisive experience of my life. It comprised eight lectures,\nunder the title: 'Mathematics, Scientific Experiment and Observation,\nand Epistemological Results from the Standpoint of Anthroposophy'; what\nthey gave me answered my question beyond all expectation.\n\nIn the course of a comprehensive historical survey the lecturer\ncharacterized, in a way I found utterly convincing, the present\nmathematical interpretation of nature as a transitional stage of human\nconsciousness - a kind of knowing which is on the way from a past\npre-mathematical to a future post-mathematical form of cognition. The\nimportance of mathematics, whether as a discipline of the human spirit\nor as an instrument of natural science, was not for a moment\nundervalued. On the contrary, what Rudolf Steiner said about Projective\n(Synthetic) Geometry, for instance, its future possibilities and its\nrole as a means of understanding higher processes of nature than had\nhitherto been accessible to science, clearly explained the positive\nfeelings I myself had experienced - without knowing why - when I had\nstudied the subject.\n\nThrough his lectures and his part in the discussions - they were held\ndaily by the various speakers and ranged over almost every field of\nmodern knowledge - I gradually realized that Rudolf Steiner was in\npossession of unique powers. Not only did he show himself fully at home\nin all these fields; he was able to connect them with each other, and\nwith the nature and being of man, in such a way that an apparent chaos\nof unrelated details was wrought into a higher synthesis. Moreover, it\nbecame clear to me that one who could speak as he did about the stages\nof human consciousness past, present and future, must have full access\nto all of them at will, and be able to make each of them an object of\nexact observation. I saw a thinker who was himself sufficient proof\nthat man can find within the resources of his own spirit the\nvantage-ground for the deed which I had dimly surmised, and by which\nalone true civilization could be saved. Through all these things I knew\nthat I had found the teacher I had been seeking.\n\nThus I was fully confirmed in my hopes of the Conference; but I was\nalso often astonished at what I heard. Not least among my surprises was\nRudolf Steiner's presentation of Goethe as the herald of the new form\nof scientific knowledge which he himself was expounding. I was here\nintroduced to a side of Goethe which was as completely unknown to me as\nto so many others among my contemporaries, who had not yet come into\ntouch with Anthroposophy. For me, as for them, Goethe had always been\nthe great thinker revealing his thoughts through poetry. Indeed, only\nshortly before my meeting with Rudolf Steiner it was in his poetry that\nGoethe had become newly alive to me as a helper in my search for a\nfuller human experience of nature and my fellow-men. But despite all my\nGoethe studies I had been quite unaware that more than a century\nearlier he had achieved something in the field of science, organic and\ninorganic alike, which could help modern man towards the new kind of\nknowledge so badly needed to-day. This was inevitable for me, since I\nshared the modern conviction that art and science were fields of\nactivity essentially strange to one another. And so it was again Rudolf\nSteiner who opened the way for me to Goethe as botanist, physicist and\nthe like.\n\nI must mention another aspect of the Stuttgart Conference which Belongs\nto this picture of my first encounter with Anthroposophy, and gave it\nspecial weight for anyone in my situation at that period. In Stuttgart\nthere were many different activities concerned with the practical\napplication of Rudolf Steiner's teachings, and so one could become\nacquainted with teachings and applications at the same time. There was\nthe Waldorf School, founded little more than a year before, with\nseveral hundred pupils already. It was the first school to undertake\nthe transformation of anthroposophical knowledge of man into\neducational practice; later it was followed by others, in Germany and\nelsewhere. There was one of the clinics, where qualified doctors were\napplying the same knowledge to the study of illness and the action of\nmedicaments. In various laboratories efforts were made to develop new\nmethods of experimental research in physics, chemistry, biology and\nother branches of science. Further, a large business concern had been\nfounded in Stuttgart in an attempt to embody some of Rudolf Steiner's\nideas for the reform of social life. Besides all this I could attend\nperformances of the new art of movement, again the creation of Rudolf\nSteiner and called by him 'Eurhythmy', in which the astounded eye could\nsee how noble a speech can be uttered by the human body when its limbs\nare moved in accordance with its inherent spiritual laws. Thus, in all\nthe many things that were going on besides the lectures, one could find\ndirect proof of the fruitfulness of what one heard in them.2\n\nUnder the impression of this Conference I soon began to study the\nwritings of Rudolf Steiner. Not quite two years later, I decided to\njoin professionally with those who were putting Anthroposophy into\nouter practice. Because it appeared to me as the most urgent need of\nthe time to prepare the new generation for the tasks awaiting it\nthrough an education shaped on the entire human being, I turned to\nRudolf Steiner with the request to be taken into the Stuttgart School\nas teacher of natural science. On this occasion I told him of my\ngeneral scientific interests, and how I hoped to follow them up later\non. I spoke of my intended educational activity as something which\nmight help me at the same time to prepare myself for this other task.\nAnyone who learns so to see nature that his ideas can be taken up and\nunderstood by the living, lively soul of the growing child will thereby\nbe training himself, I thought, in just that kind of observation and\nthinking which the new science of nature demands. Rudolf Steiner agreed\nwith this, and it was not long afterwards that I joined the school\nwhere I was to work for eleven years as a science master in the senior\nclasses, which activity I have since continued outside Germany in a\nmore or less similar form.\n\nThis conversation with Rudolf Steiner took place in a large hall where,\nwhile we were talking, over a thousand people were assembling to\ndiscuss matters of concern to the Anthroposophical Movement. This did\nnot prevent him from asking me about the details of my examination\nwork, in which I was still engaged at that time; he always gave himself\nfully to whatever claimed his attention at the moment. I told him of my\nexperimental researches in electrical high-frequency phenomena, briefly\nintroducing the particular problem with which I was occupied. I took it\nfor granted that a question from such a specialized branch of physics\nwould not be of much interest to him. Judge of my astonishment when he\nat once took out of his pocket a note-book and a huge carpenter's\npencil, made a sketch and proceeded to speak of the problem as one\nfully conversant with it, and in such a way that he gave me the\nstarting point for an entirely new conception of electricity. It was\ninstantly borne in on me that if electricity came to be understood in\nthis sense, results would follow which in the end would lead to a quite\nnew technique in the use of it. From that moment it became one of my\nlife's aims to contribute whatever my circumstances and powers would\nallow to the development of an understanding of nature of this kind.\n\n1 The speaker was the late Dr. Elizabeth Vreede, for some years leader\nof the Mathematical-Astronomical Section at the Goetheanum, Dornach,\nSwitzerland.\n\n2 The activities mentioned above do not exhaust the practical\npossibilities of Spiritual Science. At that time (1921) Rudolf Steiner\nhad not yet given his indications for the treatment of children needing\nspecial care of soul and body, or for the renewal of the art of acting,\nor for the conquest of materialistic methods in agricultural practice.\nNor did there yet exist the movement for religious renewal Which Dr.\nFr. Rittelmeyer later founded, with the help and advice of Rudolf\nSteiner.\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nWhere Do We Stand To-day?\n\nIn the year 1932, when the world celebrated the hundredth anniversary\nof Goethe's death, Professor W. Heisenberg, one of the foremost\nthinkers in the field of modern physics, delivered a speech before the\nSaxon Academy of Science which may be regarded as symptomatic of the\nneed in recent science to investigate critically the foundations of its\nown efforts to know nature.1 In this speech Heisenberg draws a picture\nof the progress of science which differs significantly from the one\ngenerally known. Instead of giving the usual description of this\nprogress as 'a chain of brilliant and surprising discoveries', he shows\nit as resting on the fact that, with the aim of continually simplifying\nand unifying the scientific conception of the world, human thinking, in\ncourse of time, has narrowed more and more the scope of its inquiries\ninto outer nature.\n\n'Almost every scientific advance is bought at the cost of renunciation,\nalmost every gain in knowledge sacrifices important standpoints and\nestablished modes of thought. As facts and knowledge accumulate, the\nclaim of the scientist to an understanding of the world in a certain\nsense diminishes.' Our justifiable admiration for the success with\nwhich the unending multiplicity of natural occurrences on earth and in\nthe stars has been reduced to so simple a scheme of laws - Heisenberg\nimplies - must therefore not make us forget that these attainments are\nbought at the price 'of renouncing the aim of bringing the phenomena of\nnature to our thinking in an immediate and living way'.\n\nIn the course of his exposition, Heisenberg also speaks of Goethe, in\nwhose scientific endeavours he perceives a noteworthy attempt to set\nscientific understanding upon a path other than that of progressive\nself-restriction.\n\n'The renouncing of life and immediacy, which was the premise for the\nprogress of natural science since Newton, formed the real basis for the\nbitter struggle which Goethe waged against the physical optics of\nNewton. It would be superficial to dismiss this struggle as\nunimportant: there is much significance in one of the most outstanding\nmen directing all his efforts to fighting against the development of\nNewtonian optics.' There is only one thing for which Heisenberg\ncriticizes Goethe: 'If one should wish to reproach Goethe, it could\nonly be for not going far enough - that is, for having attacked the\nviews of Newton instead of declaring that the whole of Newtonian\nPhysics-Optics, Mechanics and the Law of Gravitation - were from the\ndevil.'\n\nAlthough the full significance of Heisenberg's remarks on Goethe will\nbecome apparent only at a later stage of our discussion, they have been\nquoted here because they form part of the symptom we wish to\ncharacterize. Only this much may be pointed out immediately, that\nGoethe - if not in the scientific then indeed in the poetical part of\nhis writings - did fulfil what Heisenberg rightly feels to have been\nhis true task.2\n\nWe mentioned Heisenberg's speech as a symptom of a certain tendency,\ncharacteristic of the latest phase in science, to survey critically its\nown epistemological foundations. A few years previous to Heisenberg's\nspeech, the need of such a survey found an eloquent advocate in the\nlate Professor A. N. Whitehead, in his book Science and the Modern\nWorld, where, in view of the contradictory nature of modern physical\ntheories, he insists that 'if science is not to degenerate into a\nmedley of ad hoc hypotheses, it must become philosophical and enter\nupon a thorough criticism of its own foundations'.\n\nAmong the scientists who have felt this need, and who have taken pains\nto fulfil it, the late Professor A. Eddington obtains an eminent\nposition. Among his relevant utterances we will quote here the\nfollowing, because it contains a concrete statement concerning the\nfield of external observation which forms the basis for the modern\nscientific world-picture. In his Philosophy of Physical Science we find\nhim stating that 'ideally, all our knowledge of the universe could have\nbeen reached by visual sensation alone - in fact by the simplest form\nof visual sensation, colourless and non-stereoscopic'.3 In other words,\nin order to obtain scientific cognition of the physical world, man has\nfelt constrained to surrender the use of all his senses except the\nsense of sight, and to limit even the act of seeing to the use of a\nsingle, colour-blind eye.\n\nLet us listen to yet another voice from the ranks of present-day\nscience, expressing a criticism which is symptomatic of our time. It\ncomes from the late physiologist, Professor A, Carrel, who, concerning\nthe effect which scientific research has had on man's life in general,\nsays in his book, Man the Unknown: 'The sciences of inert matter have\nled us into a country that is not ours. ... Man is a stranger in the\nworld he has created.'\n\nOf these utterances, Eddington's is at the present point of our\ndiscussion of special interest for us; for he outlines in it the\nprecise field of sense-perception into which science has withdrawn in\nthe course of that general retreat towards an ever more restricted\nquestioning of nature which was noted by Heisenberg.\n\nThe pertinence of Eddington's statement is shown immediately one\nconsiders what a person would know of the world if his only source of\nexperience were the sense of sight, still further limited in the way\nEddington describes. Out of everything that the world brings to the\ntotality of our senses, there remains nothing more than mere movements,\nwith certain changes of rate, direction, and so on. The picture of the\nworld received by such an observer is a purely kinematic one. And this\nis, indeed, the character of the world-picture of modern physical\nscience. For in the scientific treatment of natural phenomena all the\nqualities brought to us by our other senses, such as colour, tone,\nwarmth, density and even electricity and magnetism, are reduced to mere\nmovement-changes.\n\nAs a result, modern science is prevented from conceiving any valid idea\nof 'force'. In so far as the concept 'force' appears in scientific\nconsiderations, it plays the part of an 'auxiliary concept', and what\nman naively conceives as force has come to be defined as merely a\n'descriptive law of behaviour'. We must leave it for later\nconsiderations to show how the scientific mind of man has created for\nitself the conviction that the part of science occupied with the\nactions of force in nature can properly be treated with purely\nkinematic concepts. It is the fact itself which concerns us here. In\nrespect of it, note as a characteristic of modern text-books that they\noften simply use the term 'kinetics' (a shortening of kinematics) to\ndesignate the science of 'dynamics'.4\n\nIn the course of our investigations we shall discover the peculiarity\nin human nature which - during the first phase, now ended, of man's\nstruggle towards scientific awareness - has caused this renunciation of\nall sense-experiences except those which come to man through the sight\nof a single colour-blind eye. It will then also become clear out of\nwhat historic necessity this self-restriction of scientific inquiry\narose. The acknowledgment of this necessity, however, must not prevent\nus from recognizing the fact that, as a result of this restriction,\nmodern scientific research, which has penetrated far into the dynamic\nsubstrata of nature, finds itself in the peculiar situation that it is\nnot at all guided by its own concepts, but by the very forces it tries\nto detect. And in this fact lies the root of the danger which besets\nthe present age.5\n\nHe who recognizes this, therefore, feels impelled to look for a way\nwhich leads beyond a one-eyed, colour-blind conception of the world. It\nis the aim of this book to show that such a way exists and how it can\nbe followed. Proof will thereby be given that along this way not only\nis a true understanding achieved of the forces already known to science\n(though not really understood by it), but also that other forces, just\nas active in nature as for example electricity and magnetism, come\nwithin reach of scientific observation and understanding. And it will\nbe shown that these other forces are of a kind that requires to be\nknown to-day if we are to restore the lost balance to human\ncivilization.\n\n*\n\nThere is a rule known to physicians that 'a true diagnosis of a case\ncontains in itself the therapy'. No true diagnosis is possible,\nhowever, without investigation of the 'history' of the case. Applied to\nour task, this means that we must try to find an aspect of human\ndevelopment, both individual and historical, which will enable us to\nrecognize in man's own being the cause responsible for the peculiar\nnarrowing of the scope of scientific inquiry, as described by the\nscientists cited above.\n\nA characteristic of scientific inquiry, distinguishing it from man's\nearlier ways of solving the riddles of the world, is that it admits as\ninstruments of knowledge exclusively those activities of the human soul\nover which we have full control because they take place in the full\nlight of consciousness. This also explains why there has been no\nscience, in the true sense of the word, prior to the beginning of the\nera commonly called 'modern' - that is, before the fifteenth century.\nFor the consciousness on which man's scientific striving is based is\nitself an outcome of human evolution.\n\nThis evolution, therefore, needs to be considered in such a way that we\nunderstand the origin of modern man's state of mind, and in particular\nwhy this state of mind cannot of itself have any other relationship to\nthe world than that of a spectator. For let us be clear that this\npeculiar relationship by no means belongs only to the scientifically\nengaged mind. Every adult in our age is, by virtue of his\npsycho-physical structure, more or less a world-spectator. What\ndistinguishes the state of man's mind when engaged in scientific\nobservation is that it is restricted to a one-eyed colour-blind\napproach.\n\n*\n\n'Death is the price man has to pay for his brain and his personality' -\nthis is how a modern physiologist (A. Carrel in his aforementioned\nbook, Man the Unknown) describes the connexion between man's bodily\nfunctions and his waking consciousness. It is characteristic of the\noutlook prevailing in the nineteenth century that thinking was regarded\nas the result of the life of the body; that is, of the body's\nmatter-building processes. Hence no attention was paid at that time to\nthe lonely voice of the German philosopher, C. Fortlage (1806-81), who\nin his System of Psychology as Empirical Science suggested that\nconsciousness is really based on death processes in the body. From this\nfact he boldly drew the conclusion (known to us today to be true) that\nif 'partial death' gave rise to ordinary consciousness, then 'total\ndeath' must result in an extraordinary enhancement of consciousness.\nAgain, when in our century Rudolf Steiner drew attention to the same\nfact, which he had found along his own lines of investigation, showing\nthereby the true role of the nervous system in regard to the various\nactivities of the soul, official science turned a deaf ear to his\npronouncement.6 To-day the scientist regards it as forming part of\n'unknown man' that life must recede - in other words, that the\norgan-building processes of the body must come to a standstill - if\nconsciousness is to come into its own.\n\nWith the recognition of a death process in the nervous system as the\nbodily foundation of consciousness, and particularly of man's\nconceptual activities, the question arises as to the nature of those\nactivities which have their foundation in other systems, such as that\nof the muscles, where life, not death, prevails. Here an answer must be\ngiven which will surprise the reader acquainted with modern theories of\npsycho-physical interaction; but if he meets it with an open mind he\nwill not find it difficult to test.\n\nJust as the conceptual activity has as its bodily foundation the brain,\nwith the nervous appendages, so it is volitional activity which is\nbased on processes taking place in the muscular region of the body and\nin those organs which provide the body's metabolism.\n\nA statement which says that man's will is as directly based on the\nmetabolic processes of the body, both inside and outside the muscles,\nas is his perceiving and thought-forming mind on a process in the\nnerves, is bound to cause surprise. Firstly, it seems to leave out the\nrole commonly ascribed to the so-called motoric part of the nervous\nsystem in bringing about bodily action; and secondly, the\nacknowledgment of the dependence of consciousness on corporeal 'dying'\nimplies that willing is an unconscious activity because of its being\nbased on life processes of the body.\n\nThe first of these two problems will find its answer at a later stage\nof our discussion when we shall see what entitles us to draw a direct\nconnexion between volition and muscular action. To answer the second\nproblem, simple self-observation is required. This tells us that, when\nwe move a limb, all that we know of is the intention (in its conceptual\nform) which rouses the will and gives it its direction, and the fact of\nthe completed deed. In between, we accompany the movement with a dim\nawareness of the momentary positions of the parts of the body involved,\nso that we know whether or not they are moving in the intended manner.\nThis awareness is due to a particular sense, the 'sense of movement' or\n'muscular sense' - one of those senses whose existence physiology has\nlately come to acknowledge. Nothing, however, is known to us of all the\ncomplex changes which are set into play within the muscles themselves\nin order to carry out some intended movement. And it is these that are\nthe direct outcome of the activity of our will.\n\nRegarding man's psycho-physical organization thus, we come to see in it\na kind of polarity - a death-pole, as it were, represented by the\nnerves including their extension into the senses, and a life-pole,\nrepresented by the metabolic and muscular systems; and connected with\nthem a pole of consciousness and one of unconsciousness - or as we can\nalso say, of waking and sleeping consciousness. For the degree of\nconsciousness on the side of the life-pole is not different from the\nstate in which the entire human being dwells during sleep.\n\nIt is by thus recognizing the dependence of consciousness on processes\nof bodily disintegration that we first come to understand why\nconsciousness, once it has reached a certain degree of brightness, is\nbound to suffer repeated interruptions. Every night, when we sleep, our\nnervous system becomes alive (though with gradually decreasing\nintensity) in order that what has been destroyed during the day may be\nrestored. While the system is kept in this condition, no consciousness\ncan obtain in it.\n\nIn between the two polarically opposite systems there is a third, again\nof clearly distinct character, which functions as a mediator between\nthe two. Here all processes are of a strictly rhythmic nature, as is\nshown by the process of breathing and the pulsation of the blood. This\nsystem, too, provides the foundation for a certain type of\npsychological process, namely feeling. That feeling is an activity of\nthe soul distinct from both thinking and willing, and that it has its\ndirect counterpart in the rhythmic processes of the body, can be most\neasily tested through observing oneself when listening to music.\n\nAs one might expect from its median position, the feeling sphere of the\nsoul is characterized by a degree of consciousness half-way between\nwaking and sleeping. Of our feelings we are not more conscious than of\nour dreams; we are as little detached from them as from our dream\nexperiences while these last; what remains in our memory of past\nfeelings is usually not more than what we remember of past dreams.\n\nThis picture of the threefold psycho-physical structure of man will now\nenable us to understand the evolution of consciousness both in\nindividual life and in the life of mankind. To furnish the foundation\nof waking consciousness, parts of the body must become divorced from\nlife. This process, however, is one which, if we take the word in its\nwidest sense, we may call, ageing. All organic bodies, and equally that\nof man, are originally traversed throughout by life. Only gradually\ncertain parts of such an organism become precipitated, as it were, from\nthe general organic structure, and they do so increasingly towards the\nend of that organism's life-span.\n\nIn the human body this separation sets in gently during the later\nstages of embryonic development and brings about the first degree of\nindependence of bones and nerves from the rest of the organism. The\nretreat of life continues after birth, reaching a certain climax in the\nnervous system at about the twenty-first year. In the body of a small\nchild there is still comparatively little contrast between living and\nnon-living organs. There is equally little contrast between sleeping\nand waking condition in its soul. And the nature of the soul at this\nstage is volition throughout. Never, in fact, does man's soul so\nintensively will as in the time when it is occupied in bringing the\nbody into an upright position, and never again does it exert its\nstrength with the same unconsciousness of the goal to which it strives.\n\nWhat, then, is the soul's characteristic relationship to the world\naround at this stage? The following observations will enable us to\nanswer this question.\n\nIt is well known that small children often angrily strike an object\nagainst which they have stumbled. This has been interpreted as\n'animism', by which it is meant that the child, by analogy with his\nexperience of himself as a soul-filled body, imagines the things in his\nsurroundings to be similarly ensouled. Anyone who really observes the\nchild's mode of experience (of which we as adults, indeed, keep\nsomething in our will-life) is led to a quite different interpretation\nof such a phenomenon. For he realizes that the child neither\nexperiences himself as soul-entity distinct from his body, nor faces\nthe content of the world in so detached a manner as to be in need of\nusing his imagination to read into it any soul-entities distinct from\nhis own.\n\nIn this early period of his life the human being still feels the world\nas part of himself, and himself as part of the world. Consequently, his\nrelation to the objects around him and to his own body is one and the\nsame. To the example of the child beating the external object he has\nstumbled against, there belongs the complementary picture of the child\nwho beats himself because he has done something which makes him angry\nwith himself.\n\nIn sharp contrast to this state of oneness of the child's soul, in\nregard both to its own body and to the surrounding world, there stands\nthe separatedness of the adult's intellectual consciousness, severed\nfrom both body and world. What happens to this part of the soul during\nits transition from one condition to the other may be aptly described\nby using a comparison from another sphere of natural phenomena. (Later\ndescriptions in this book will show that a comparison such as the one\nused here is more than a mere external analogy.)\n\nLet us think of water in which salt has been dissolved. In this state\nthe salt is one with its solvent; there is no visible distinction\nbetween them. The situation changes when part of the salt crystallizes.\nBy this process the part of the salt substance concerned loses its\nconnexion with the liquid and contracts into individually outlined and\nspatially defined pieces of solid matter. It thereby becomes optically\ndistinguishable from its environment.\n\nSomething similar happens to the soul within the region of the nervous\nsystem. What keeps the soul in a state of unconsciousness as long as\nthe body, in childhood, is traversed by life throughout, and what\ncontinues to keep it in this condition in the parts which remain alive\nafter the separation of the nerves, is the fact that in these parts -\nto maintain the analogy - the soul is dissolved in the body. With the\ngrowing independence of the nerves, the soul itself gains independence\nfrom the body. At the same time it undergoes a process similar to\ncontraction whereby it becomes discernible to itself as an entity\ndistinguished from the surrounding world. In this way the soul is\nenabled, eventually, to meet the world from outside as a self-conscious\nonlooker.\n\n*\n\nWhat we have here described as the emergence of an individual's\nintellectual consciousness from the original, purely volitional\ncondition of the soul is nothing but a replica of a greater process\nthrough which mankind as a whole, or more exactly Western mankind, has\ngone in the course of its historical development. Man was not always\nthe 'brain-thinker' he is to-day.7 Directly the separation of the nerve\nsystem was completed, and thereby the full clarity of the brain-bound\nconsciousness achieved, man began to concern himself with science in\nthe modern sense.\n\nTo understand why this science became restricted to one-eyed,\ncolour-blind observation we need only apply to the human sense system,\nin particular, what we have learnt concerning man's threefold being.\n\nSharply distinguished by their respective modes of functioning though\nthey are, the three bodily systems are each spread out through the\nwhole body and are thus to be found everywhere adjacent to each other.\nHence, the corresponding three states of consciousness, the sleeping,\ndreaming and waking, are also everywhere adjacent and woven into one\nanother. It is the predominance of one or other which imparts a\nparticular quality of soul to one or other region of the body. This is\nclearly shown within the realm of sense activity, itself the most\nconscious part of the human being. It is sufficient to compare, say,\nthe senses of sight and smell, and to notice in what different degree\nwe are conscious of the impressions they convey, and how differently\nthe corresponding elements of conception, feeling and willing are\nblended in each. We never turn away as instinctively from objectionable\ncolour arrangement as from an unpleasant smell. How small a part, on\nthe other hand, do the representations of odours play in our\nrecollection of past experiences, compared with those of sight.8 The\nsame is valid in descending measure for all other senses.\n\nOf all senses, the sense of sight has in greatest measure the qualities\nof a 'conceptual sense'. The experiences which it brings, and these\nalone, were suitable as a basis for the new science, and even so a\nfurther limitation was necessary. For in spite of the special quality\nof the sense of sight, it is still not free from certain elements of\nfeeling and will - that is, from elements with the character of dream\nor sleep. The first plays a part in our perception of colour; the\nsecond, in observing the forms and perspective ordering of objects we\nlook at.\n\nHere is repeated in a special way the threefold organization of man,\nfor the seeing of colour depends on an organic process apart from the\nnerve processes and similar to that which takes place between heart and\nlungs, whilst the seeing of forms and spatial vision depend upon\ncertain movements of the eyeball (quick traversing of the outline of\nthe viewed object with the line of sight, alteration of the angle\nbetween the two axes of sight according to distance), in which the eye\nis active as a sort of outer limb of the body, an activity which enters\nour consciousness as little as does that of our limbs. It now becomes\nclear that no world-content obtained in such more or less unconscious\nways could be made available for the building of a new scientific\nworld-conception. Only as much as man experiences through the sight of\na single, colour-blind eye, could be used.9\n\n*\n\nIf we would understand the role of science in the present phase of\nhuman development, we must be ready to apply two entirely different and\nseemingly contradictory judgments to one and the same historical\nphenomenon. The fact that something has occurred out of historical\nnecessity - that is, a necessity springing from the very laws of cosmic\nevolution - does not save it from having a character which, in view of\nits consequences, must needs be called tragic.\n\nIn this era of advanced intellectualism, little understanding of the\nexistence of true tragedy in human existence has survived. As a result,\nthe word 'tragedy' itself has deteriorated in its meaning and is\nnowadays used mostly as a synonym for 'sad event', 'calamity' 'serious\nevent', even 'crime' (Oxford Diet.). In its original meaning, however,\nspringing from the dramatic poetry of ancient Greece, the word combines\nthe concept of calamity with that of inevitability; the author of the\ndestructive action was not held to be personally responsible for it,\nsince he was caught up in a nexus of circumstances which he could not\nchange.\n\nThis is not the place to discuss why tragedy in this sense forms part\nof man's existence. It suffices to acknowledge that it does and, where\nit occurs, to observe it with scientific objectivity.\n\nOur considerations, starting from certain statements made by some\nleading scientific thinkers of our time, have helped us not only to\nconfirm the truth inherent in these statements, but to recognize the\nfacts stated by them as being the outcome of certain laws of evolution\nand thereby having an historic necessity. This, however, does not mean\nthat man's scientific labours, carried out under the historically given\nrestrictions, great and successful as these labours were and are, have\nnot led to calamitous effects such as we found indicated by Professor\nCarrel. The sciences of matter have led man into a country that is not\nhis, and the world which he has created by means of scientific research\nis not only one in which he is a stranger but one which threatens\nto-day to deprive him of his own existence. The reason is that this\nworld is essentially a world of active forces, and the true nature of\nthese is something which modern man, restricted to his\nonlooker-consciousness, is positively unable to conceive.\n\nWe have taken a first step in diagnosing man's present spiritual\ncondition. A few more steps are required to lead us to the point where\nwe can conceive the therapy he needs.\n\n1 This address and another by the same author are published together\nunder the common title, Wandlungen in den Grundlagen der\nNaturwissenschaft ('Changes in the foundations of Natural Science').\nHeisenberg's name has become known above all by his formulation of the\nso-called Principle of Indeterminacy.\n\n2 See, in this respect, Faust's dispute with Mephistopheles on the\ncauses responsible for the geological changes of the earth. (Faust II,\nAct 4)\n\n3 See also Eddington's more elaborate description of this fact in his\nNew Pathways in Science. The above statement, like others of\nEddington's, has been Contested from the side of professional\nphilosophy as logically untenable. Our own further discussion will show\nthat it accords with the facts.\n\n4 Both words, kinematics and kinetics, are derivatives of the Greek\nword kinein, to move. The term 'kinematic' is used when motion is\nconsidered abstractly without reference to force or mass. Kinetics is\napplied kinematics, or, as pointed out above, dynamics treated with\nkinematic concepts.\n\n5 These last statements will find further illustration in the next two\nchapters.\n\n6 First published in 1917 in his book Von Seelenr\u00c3\u00a4tseln.\n\n7 Homer's men still think with the diaphragm (phrenes). Similarly, the\nancient practice of Yoga, as a means of acquiring knowledge, shows that\nat the time When it flourished man's conceptual activity was felt to be\nseated elsewhere than in the head.\n\n8 This must not be confused with the fact that a smell may evoke other\nmemories by way of association.\n\n9 For one who endeavours to observe historical facts in the manner here\ndescribed, it is no mere play of chance that the father of scientific\natomism, John Dalton, was by nature colour blind. In fact, colour\nblindness was known, for a considerable time during the last century,\nas 'Daltonism', since it was through the publication of Dalton's\nself-observations that for the first time general attention was drawn\nto this phenomenon.\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nThe Onlooker's Philosophic Malady\n\nIn his isolation as world spectator, the modern philosopher was bound\nto reach two completely opposite views regarding the objective value of\nhuman thought. One of these was given expression in Descartes' famous\nwords: Cogito ergo sum ('I think, therefore I am'). Descartes\n(1596-1650), rightly described as the inaugurator of modern philosophy,\nthus held the view that only in his own thought-activity does man find\na guarantee of his own existence.\n\nIn coming to this view, Descartes took as his starting-point his\nexperience that human consciousness contains only the thought pictures\nevoked by sense-perception, and yet knows nothing of the how and why of\nthe things responsible for such impressions. He thus found himself\ncompelled, in the first place, to doubt whether any of these things had\nany objective existence, at all. Hence, there remained over for him\nonly one indubitable item in the entire content of the universe - his\nown thinking; for were he to doubt even this, he could do so only by\nagain making use of it. From the 'I doubt, therefore I am', he was led\nin this way to the 'I think, therefore I am'.\n\nThe other conception of human thought reached by the\nonlooker-consciousness was diametrically opposed to that of Descartes,\nand entirely cancelled its conceptual significance. It was put forward\n- not long afterwards - by Robert Hooke (1635-1703), the first\nscientist to make systematic use of the newly invented microscope by\nmeans of which he made the fundamental discovery of the cellular\nstructure of plant tissues. It was, indeed, on the strength of his\nmicroscopic studies that he boldly undertook to determine the\nrelationship of human thought to objective reality. He published his\nviews in the introduction to his Micrographia, the great work in which,\nwith the lavish help of carefully executed copper engravings, he made\nhis microscopic observations known to the world.\n\nHooke's line of thought is briefly as follows: In past ages men\nsubscribed to the naive belief that what they have in their\nconsciousness as thought pictures of the world, actually reproduces the\nreal content of that world. The microscope now demonstrates, however,\nhow much the familiar appearance of the world depends on the structure\nof our sense apparatus; for it reveals a realm just as real as that\nalready known to us, but hitherto concealed from us because it is not\naccessible to the natural senses. Accordingly, if the microscope can\npenetrate through the veil of illusion which normally hides a whole\nworld of potentially visible phenomena, it may be that it can even\nteach us something about the ideas we have hitherto formed concerning\nthe nature of things. Perhaps it can bring us a step nearer the truth\nin the sphere of thought, as it so obviously has done in that of\nobservation.\n\nOf all the ideas that human reason can form, Hooke considered the\nsimplest and the most fundamental to be the geometrical concepts of\npoint and straight line. Undoubtedly we are able to think these, but\nthe na\u00c3\u00afve consciousness takes for granted that it also perceives them as\nobjective realities outside itself, so that thoughts and facts\ncorrespond to each other. We must now ask, however, if this belief is\nnot due to an optical deception. Let us turn to the microscope and see\nwhat point and line in the external world look like through it.\n\nFor his investigation Hooke chose the point of a needle and a\nknife-edge, as providing the best representatives among physical\nobjects of point and straight line. In the sketches here reproduced we\nmay see how Hooke made clear to his readers how little these two\nthings, when observed through the microscope, resemble what is seen by\nthe unaided eye. This fact convinced Hooke that the apparent agreement\nbetween the world of perception and the world of ideas rests on nothing\nmore solid than an optical limitation (Plate I).\n\nCompared with the more refined methods of present-day thought, Hooke's\nprocedure may strike us as somewhat primitive. Actually he did nothing\nmore than has since been done times without number; for the scientist\nhas become more and more willing to allow artificially evoked\nsense-perceptions to dictate the thoughts he uses in forming a\nscientific picture of the world.\n\nIn the present context we are concerned with the historical import of\nHooke's procedure. This lies in the fact that, immediately after\nDescartes had satisfied himself that in thinking man had the one sure\nguarantee of his own existence, Hooke proved in a seemingly indubitable\nmanner that thinking was entirely divorced from reality. It required\nonly another century for philosophy to draw from this the unavoidable\nconsequence. It appeared in the form of Hume's philosophic system, the\noutcome of which was universal scepticism.\n\nAs we shall see in due course, Hume's mode of reasoning continues to\nrule scientific thought even to-day, quite irrespective of the fact\nthat science itself claims to have its philosophical parent in Kant,\nthe very thinker who devoted his life's work to the refutation of Hume.\n\n*\n\nOn the basis of his investigations into human consciousness Hume felt\nobliged to reason thus: My consciousness, as I know it, has no contact\nwith the external world other than that of a mere outside onlooker.\nWhat it wins for its own content from the outer world is in the nature\nof single, mutually unrelated parts. Whatever may unite these parts\ninto an objective whole within the world itself can never enter my\nconsciousness; and any such unifying factor entertained by my thought\ncan be only a self-constructed, hypothetical picture. Hume summed up\nhis view in two axioms which he himself described as the alpha and\nomega of his whole philosophy. The first runs: 'All our distinct\nperceptions are distinct existences.' The other: 'The Mind never\nperceives any real connexions between distinct existences.' (Treatise\nof Human Nature.)\n\nIf once we agree that we can know of nothing but unrelated thought\npictures, because our consciousness is not in a position to relate\nthese pictures to a unifying reality, then we have no right to ascribe,\nwith Descartes and his school, an objective reality to the self. Even\nthough the self may appear to us as the unifying agent among our\nthoughts, it must itself be a mental picture among mental pictures ;\nand man can have no knowledge of any permanent reality outside this\nfluctuating picture-realm. So, with Hume, the onlooker-consciousness\ncame to experience its own utter inability to achieve a knowledge of\nthe objective existence either of a material world be - behind all\nexternal phenomena, or of a spiritual self behind all the details of\nits own internal content.\n\nAccordingly, human consciousness found itself hurled into the abyss of\nuniversal scepticism. Hume himself suffered unspeakably under the\nimpact of what he considered inescapable ideas - rightly described from\nanother side as the 'suicide of human intelligence' - and his\nphilosophy often seemed to him like a malady, as he himself called it,\nagainst whose grip he could see no remedy. The only thing left to him,\nif he was to prevent philosophical suicide from ending in physical\nsuicide, was to forget in daily life his own conclusions as far as\npossible.\n\nWhat Hume experienced as his philosophical malady, however, was the\nresult not of a mental abnormality peculiar to himself, but of that\nmodern form of consciousness which still prevails in general today.\nThis explains why, despite all attempts to disprove Hume's philosophy,\nscientific thought has not broken away from its alpha and omega in the\nslightest degree.\n\nA proof of this is to be found, for example, in the principle of\nIndeterminacy which has arisen in modern physics.\n\n*\n\nThe conception of Indeterminacy as an unavoidable consequence of the\nlatest phase of physical research is due to Professor W. Heisenberg.\nOriginally this conception forced itself upon Heisenberg as a result of\nexperimental research. In the meantime the same idea has received its\npurely philosophical foundation. We shall here deal with both lines of\napproach.\n\nAfter the discovery by Galileo of the parallelogram of forces, it\nbecame the object of classical physics - unexpressed, indeed, until\nNewton wrote his Principia - to bring the unchanging laws ruling nature\ninto the light of human consciousness, and to give them conceptual\nexpression in the language of mathematical formulae. Since, however,\nscience was obliged to restrict itself to what could be observed with a\nsingle, colour-blind eye, physics has taken as its main object of\nresearch the spatio-temporal relationships, and their changes, between\ndiscrete, ideally conceived, point-like particles. Accordingly, the\nmathematically formulable laws holding sway in nature came to mean the\nlaws according to which the smallest particles in the material\nfoundation of the world change their position with regard to each\nother. A science of this kind could logically maintain that, if ever it\nsucceeded in defining both the position and the state of motion, in one\nsingle moment, of the totality of particles composing the universe, it\nwould have discovered the law on which universal existence depends.\nThis necessarily rested on the presupposition that it really was the\nultimate particles of the physical world which were under observation.\nIn the search for these, guided chiefly by the study of electricity,\nthe physicists tracked down ever smaller and smaller units; and along\nthis path scientific research has arrived at the following peculiar\nsituation.\n\nTo observe any object in the sense world we need an appropriate medium\nof observation. For ordinary things, light provides this. In the sense\nin which light is understood to-day, this is possible because the\nspatial extension of the single light impulses, their so-called\nwavelength, is immeasurably smaller than the average magnitude of all\nmicroscopically visible objects. This ensures that they can be observed\nclearly by the human eye. Much smaller objects, however, will require a\ncorrespondingly shorter wave-length in the medium of observation. Now\nshorter wave-lengths than those of visible light have been found in\nultra-violet light and in X-rays; and these, accordingly, are now often\nused for minute physical research.\n\nIn this way, however, we are led by nature to a definite boundary; for\nwe now find ourselves in a realm where the dimensions of the\nobservation medium and the observed object are more or less the same.\nThe result, unfortunately, is that when the 'light' meets the object,\nit changes the latter's condition of movement. On the other hand, if a\n'light' is used whose wave-length is too big to have any influence on\nthe object's condition of movement, it precludes any exact\ndetermination of the object's location.\n\nThus, having arrived at the very ground of the world - that is, where\nthe cosmic laws might be expected to reveal themselves directly - the\nscientist finds himself in the remarkable situation of only being able\nto determine accurately either the position of an observed object and\nnot its state of motion, or its state of motion and not its position.\nThe law he seeks, however, requires that both should be known at the\nsame time. Nor is this situation due to the imperfection of the\nscientific apparatus employed, but to its very perfection, so that it\nappears to arise from the nature of the foundation of the world - in so\nfar, at least, as modern science is bound to conceive it.\n\nIf it is true that a valid scientific knowledge of nature is possible\nonly in the sphere open to a single-eyed, colour-blind observation, and\nif it is true - as a science of this kind, at any rate, is obliged to\nbelieve - that all processes within the material foundation of the\nworld depend on nothing but the movements of certain elementary\nparticles of extremely small size, then the fact must be faced that the\nvery nature of these processes rules out the discovery of any stable\nordering of things in the sense of mathematically formulable laws. The\ndiscovery of such laws will then always be the last step but one in\nscientific investigation; the last will inevitably be the dissolution\nof such laws into chaos. For a consistent scientific thinking that goes\nthis way, therefore, nothing is left but to recognize chaos as the only\nreal basis of an apparently ordered world, a chaos on whose surface the\nlaws that seem to hold sway are only the illusory picturings of the\nhuman mind. This, then, is the principle of Indeterminacy as it has\nbeen encountered in the course of practical investigation into the\nelectrical processes within physical matter.\n\nIn the following way Professor Schr\u00c3\u00b6dinger, another leading thinker among\nmodern theoretical physicists, explains the philosophical basis for the\nprinciple of Indeterminacy, which scientists have established in the\nmeantime:1\n\n'Every quantitative observation, every observation making use of\nmeasurement, is by nature discontinuous. ... However far we go in the\npursuit of accuracy we shall never get anything other than a finite\nseries of discrete results. ... The raw material of our quantitative\ncognition of nature will always have this primitive and discontinuous\ncharacter. ... It is possible that a physical system might be so simple\nthat this meagre information would suffice to settle its fate; in that\ncase nature would not be more complicated than a game of chess. To\ndetermine a position of a game of chess thirty-three facts suffice. ...\nIf nature is more complicated than a game of chess, a belief to which\none tends to incline, then a physical system cannot be determined by a\nfinite number of observations. But in practice a finite number of\nobservations is all that we could make.'\n\nClassical physics, the author goes on to show, held that it was\npossible to gain a real insight into the laws of the universe, because\nin principle an infinite number of such discrete observations would\nenable us to fill in the gaps sufficiently to allow us to determine the\nsystem of the physical world. Against this assumption modern physics\nmust hold the view that an infinite number of observations cannot in\nany case be carried out in practice, and that nothing compels us to\nassume that even this would suffice to furnish us with the means for a\ncomplete determination, which alone would allow us to speak of 'law' in\nnature. 'This is the direction in which modern physics has led us\nwithout really intending it.'\n\nWhat we have previously said will make it clear enough that in these\nwords of a modern physicist we meet once more the two fundamentals of\nHume's philosophy. It is just as obvious, however, that the very\nprinciple thus re-affirmed at the latest stage of modern physical\nscience was already firmly established by Hooke, when he sought to\nprove to his contemporaries the unreality of human ideas.\n\nLet us recall Hooke's motives and results. The human reason discovers\nthat certain law-abiding forms of thought dwell within itself; these\nare the rules of mathematical thinking. The eye informs the reason that\nthe same kind of law and order is present also in the outer world. The\nmind can think point and line; the eye reports that the same forms\nexist in nature outside. (Hooke could just as well have taken as his\nexamples the apex and edge of a crystal.) The reason mistrusts the eye,\nhowever, and with the help of the microscope 'improves' on it. What\nhitherto had been taken for a compact, regulated whole now collapses\ninto a heap of unordered parts; behind the illusion of law a finer\nobservation detects the reality of chaos!\n\nHad science in its vehement career from discovery to discovery not\nforgotten its own beginnings so completely, it would not have needed\nits latest researches to bring out a principle which it had in fact\nbeen following from the outset - a principle which philosophy had\nalready recognized, if not in quite the same formulation, in the\neighteenth century. Indeterminacy, as we have just seen it explained by\nSchr\u00c3\u00b6dinger, is nothing but the exact continuation of Humean scepticism.\n\n1 In his book, Science and the Human Temperament (Dublin, 1935).\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nThe Country that is Not Ours\n\nThe last two chapters have served to show the impasse into which human\nperception and thinking have come - in so far as they have been used\nfor scientific purposes - by virtue of the relationship to the world in\nwhich man's consciousness found itself when it awoke to itself at the\nbeginning of modern times. Now although the onlooker in man, especially\nin the earliest stage of our period, gave itself up to the conviction\nthat a self-contained picture of the universe could be formed out of\nthe kind of materials available to it, it nevertheless had a dim\ninkling that this picture, because it lacked all dynamic content, had\nno bearing on the real nature of the universe. Unable to find this\nreality within himself, the world-onlooker set about searching in his\nown way for what was missing, and turned to the perceptible world\noutside man. Here he came, all unexpectedly, upon ... electricity.\nScarcely was electricity discovered than it drew human scientific\nthinking irresistibly into its own realm. Thereby man found himself,\nwith a consciousness completely blind to dynamics, within a sphere of\nonly too real dynamic forces. The following description will show what\nresults this has had for man and his civilization.\n\n*\n\nFirst, let us recall how potent a role electricity has come to play in\nsocial life through the great discoveries which began at the end of the\neighteenth century. To do this we need only compare the present\nrelationship between production and consumption in the economic sphere\nwith what it was before the power-machine, and especially the\nelectrically driven machine, had been invented. Consider some major\npublic undertaking in former times - say the construction of a great\nmediaeval cathedral. Almost all the work was done by human beings, with\nsome help, of course, from domesticated animals. Under these\ncircumstances the entire source of productive power lay in the\nwill-energies of living beings, whose bodies had to be supplied with\nfood, clothing and housing; and to provide these, other productive\npowers of a similar kind were required near the same place.\nAccordingly, since each of the power units employed in the work was\nsimultaneously both producer and consumer, a certain natural limit was\nplaced on the accumulation of productive forces in any one locality.\n\nThis condition of natural balance between production and consumption\nwas profoundly disturbed by the introduction of the steam engine; but\neven so there were still some limits, though of a quite different kind,\nto local concentrations of productive power. For steam engines require\nwater and coal at the scene of action, and these take up space and need\ncontinual shifting and replenishing. Owing to the very nature of\nphysical matter, it cannot be heaped up where it is required in\nunlimited quantities.\n\nAll this changed directly man succeeded in producing energy\nelectro-magnetically by the mere rotation of material masses, and in\nusing the water-power of the earth - itself ultimately derived from the\ncosmic energies of the sun - for driving his dynamos. Not only is the\nsource of energy thus tapped practically inexhaustible, but the\nmachines produce it without consuming on their own account, apart from\nwear and tear, and so make possible the almost limitless accumulation\nof power in one place. For electricity is distinguished from all other\npower-supplying natural forces, living or otherwise, precisely in this,\nthat it can be concentrated spatially with the aid of a physical\ncarrier whose material bulk is insignificant compared with the energy\nsupplied.\n\nThrough this property of electricity it has been possible for man to\nextend the range of his activity in all directions, far and near. So\nthe balance between production and consumption, which in previous ages\nwas more or less adequately maintained by natural conditions, has been\nentirely destroyed, and a major social-economic problem created.\n\nIn yet another way, and through quite another of its properties,\nelectricity plays an important part in modern life. Not only does it\ncompete with the human will; it also makes possible automatically\nintelligent operations quite beyond anything man can do on his own.\nThere are innumerable examples of this in modern electrical technology;\nwe need mention here only the photo-electric cell and the many devices\ninto which it enters.\n\nTo an ever-increasing, quite uncontrolled degree - for to the mind of\npresent-day man it is only natural to translate every new discovery\ninto practice as soon and as extensively as possible - electricity\nenters decisively into our modern existence. If we take all its\nactivities into account, we see arising amongst humanity a vast realm\nof labour units, possessed in their own way not only of will but of the\nsharpest imaginable intelligence. Although they are wholly remote from\nman's own nature, he more and more subdues his thoughts and actions to\ntheirs, allowing them to take rank as guides and shapers of his\ncivilization.\n\nTurning to the sphere of scientific research, we find electricity\nplaying a role in the development of modern thinking remarkably similar\nto its part as a labour-force in everyday life. We find it associated\nwith phenomena which, in Professor Heisenberg's words, expose their\nmutual connexions to exact mathematical thinking more readily than do\nany other facts of nature; and yet the way in which these phenomena\nhave become known has played fast and loose with mathematical thinking\nto an unparalleled degree. To recognize that in this sphere modern\nscience owes its triumphs to a strange and often paradoxical mixture of\nouter accident and error in human thought, we need only review the\nhistory of the subject without prejudice.\n\n*\n\nThe discovery of electricity has so far been accomplished in four\nclearly distinct stages. The first extends from the time when men first\nknew of electrical phenomena to the beginning of the natural scientific\nage; the second includes the seventeenth and the greater part of the\neighteenth centuries; the third begins with Galvani's discovery and\ncloses with the first observations of radiant electricity; and the\nfourth brings us to our own day. We shall here concern ourselves with a\nfew outstanding features of each phase, enough to characterize the\nstrange path along which man has been led by the discovery of\nelectricity.\n\nUntil the beginning of modern times, nothing more was known about\nelectricity, or of its sister force, magnetism, than what we find in\nPliny's writings. There, without recognizing a qualitative distinction\nbetween them, he refers to the faculty of rubbed amber and of certain\npieces of iron to attract other small pieces of matter. It required the\nawakening of that overruling interest in material nature,\ncharacteristic of our own age, for the essential difference between\nelectric and magnetic attraction to be recognized. The first to give a\nproper description of this was Queen Elizabeth's doctor, Gilbert. His\ndiscovery was soon followed by the construction of the first electrical\nmachine by the German Guericke (also known through his invention of the\nair pump) which opened the way for the discovery that electricity could\nbe transmitted from one place to another.\n\nIt was not, however, until the beginning of the eighteenth century that\nthe crop of electrical discoveries began to increase considerably:\namong these was the recognition of the dual nature of electricity, by\nthe Frenchman, Dufais, and the chance invention of the Leyden jar (made\nsimultaneously by the German, von Kleist, and two Dutchmen,\nMusschenbroek and Cunaeus). The Leyden jar brought electrical effects\nof quite unexpected intensity within reach. Stimulated by what could be\ndone with electricity in this form, more and more people now busied\nthemselves in experimenting with so fascinating a force of nature,\nuntil in the second third of the century a whole army of observers was\nat work, whether by way of profession or of hobby, finding out ever new\nmanifestations of its powers.\n\nThe mood that prevailed in those days among men engaged in electrical\nresearch is well reflected in a letter written by the Englishman,\nWalsh, after he had established the electric nature of the shocks given\nby certain fishes, to Benjamin Franklin, who shortly before had\ndiscovered the natural occurrence of electricity in the atmosphere:\n\n'I rejoice in addressing these communications to You. He, who predicted\nand shewed that electricity wings the formidable bolt of the\nAtmosphere, will hear with attention that in the deep it speeds a\nhumbler bolt, silent and invisible; He, who analysed the electrical\nPhial, will hear with pleasure that its laws prevail in animate Phials;\nHe, who by Reason became an electrician, will hear with reverence of an\ninstinctive electrician, gifted in his birth with a wonderful\napparatus, and with the skill to use it.' (Phil. Trans. 1773.)\n\nDare one believe that in electricity the soul of nature had been\ndiscovered? This was the question which at that time stirred the hearts\nof very many in Europe. Doctors had already sought to arouse new\nvitality in their patients by the use of strong electric shocks;\nattempts had even been made to bring the dead back to life by such\nmeans. . In a time like ours, when we are primarily concerned with the\npractical application of scientific discoveries, we are mostly\naccustomed to regard such flights of thought from a past age as nothing\nbut the unessential accompaniment of youthful, immature science, and to\nsmile at them accordingly as historical curiosities. This is a mistake,\nfor we then overlook how within them was hidden an inkling of the\ntruth, however wrongly conceived at the time, and we ignore the role\nwhich such apparently fantastic hopes have played in connexion with the\nentry of electricity into human civilization. (Nor are such hopes\nconfined to the eighteenth century; as we shall see, the same impulse\nurged Crookes a hundred years later to that decisive discovery which\nwas to usher in the latest phase in the history of science, a phase in\nwhich the investigating human spirit has been led to that boundary of\nthe physical-material world where the transition takes place from inert\nmatter into freely working energy.)\n\nIf there was any doubt left as to whether in nature the same power was\nat work which, in animal and man, was hidden away within the soul, this\ndoubt seemed finally to have been dispelled through Galvani's discovery\nthat animal limbs could be made to move electrically through being\ntouched by two bits of different metals. No wonder that 'the storm\nwhich was loosed in the world of the physicists, the physiologists and\nthe doctors through Galvani's publication can only be compared with the\none crossing the political horizon of Europe at the same time. Wherever\nthere happened to be frogs and two pieces of different metals\navailable, everyone sought proof with his own eyes that the severed\nlimbs could be marvellously re-enlivened.'1\n\nLike many of his contemporaries, Galvani was drawn by the fascinating\nbehaviour of the new force of nature to carry on electrical experiments\nas a hobby alongside his professional work, anatomical research. For\nhis experiments he used the room where his anatomical specimens were\nset out. So it happened that his electrical machine stood near some\nfrogs' legs, prepared for dissection. By a further coincidence his\nassistant, while playing with the machine, released a few sparks just\nwhen some of the specimens were in such contact with the surface\nbeneath them that they were bound to react to the sudden alteration of\nthe electric field round the machine caused by its discharge. At each\nspark the frogs' legs twitched. What Galvani saw with his own eyes\nseemed to be no less than the union of two phenomena, one observed by\nFranklin in the heights of the atmosphere, the other by Walsh in the\ndepths of the sea.\n\nGalvani, as he himself describes, proceeded with immense enthusiasm to\ninvestigate systematically what accident had thus put into his hands.2\nHe wanted first to see whether changes occurring naturally in the\nelectrical condition of the atmosphere would call forth the same\nreaction in his specimens. For this purpose he fastened one end of an\niron wire to a point high up outside his house; the lower end he\nconnected with the nervous substance of a limb from one of his\nspecimens, and to the foot of this he attached a second wire whose\nother end he submerged in a well. The specimen itself was either\nenclosed in a glass flask in order to insulate it, or simply left lying\non a table near the well. And all this he did whenever a thunderstorm\nwas threatening. As he himself reported: 'All took place as expected.\nWhenever the lightning flashed, all the muscles simultaneously came\ninto repeated and violent twitchings, so that the movements of the\nmuscles, like the flash of the lightning, always preceded the thunder,\nand thus, as it were, heralded its coming.' We can have some idea of\nwhat went on in Galvani's mind during these experiments if we picture\nvividly to ourselves the animal limbs twitching about every time the\nlightning flashed, as if a revitalizing force of will had suddenly\ntaken possession of them.\n\nIn the course of his investigations - he carried them on for a long\ntime - Galvani was astonished to observe that some of his specimens,\nwhich he had hung on to an iron railing by means of brass hooks,\nsometimes fell to twitching even when the sky was quite clear and there\nwas no sign of thunder. His natural conclusion was that this must be\ndue to hitherto unnoticed electrical changes in the atmosphere.\nObservations maintained for hours every day, however, led to no\nconclusive result; when twitchings did occur it was only with some of\nthe specimens, and even then there was no discoverable cause. Then it\nhappened one day that Galvani, 'tired out with fruitless watching',\ntook hold of one of the brass hooks by which the specimens were hung,\nand pressed it more strongly than usual against the iron railing.\nImmediately a twitching took place. 'I was almost at the point of\nascribing the occurrence to atmospheric electricity,' Galvani tells us.\nAll the same he took one of the specimens, a frog, into his laboratory\nand there subjected it to similar conditions by putting it on an iron\nplate, and pressing against this with the hook that was stuck through\nits spinal cord. Immediately the twitching occurred again. He tried\nwith other metals and, for checking purposes, with non-metals as well.\nWith some ingenuity he fixed up an arrangement, rather like that of an\nelectric bell, whereby the limbs in contracting broke contact and in\nrelaxing restored it, and so he managed to keep the frog in continuous\nrhythmical movement.\n\nWhereas Galvani had been rightly convinced by his earlier observations\nthat the movement in the specimens represented a reaction to an\nelectric stimulus from outside, he now changed his mind. In the very\nmoment of his really significant discovery he succumbed to the error\nthat he had to do with an effect of animal electricity located\nsomewhere in the dead creature itself, perhaps in the fashion of what\nhad been observed in the electric fishes. He decided that the metal\nattachment served merely to set in motion the electricity within the\nanimal.\n\nWhilst Galvani persisted in this mistake until his death, Volta\nrealized that the source of the electric force, as in the first of\nGalvani's observations, must still be sought outside the specimens, and\nhimself rightly attributed it to the contacting metals. Guided by this\nhypothesis, Volta started systematic research into the Galvanic\nproperties of metals, and presently succeeded in producing electricity\nonce more from purely mineral substances, namely from two different\nmetals in contact with a conductive liquid.\n\nThis mode of producing electricity, however, differed from any\npreviously known in allowing for the first time the production of\ncontinuous electrical effects. It is this quality of the cells and\npiles constructed by Volta that laid open the road for electric force\nto assume that role in human civilization which we have already\ndescribed. That Volta himself was aware of this essentially new factor\nin the Galvanic production of electricity is shown by his own report to\nthe Royal Society:\n\n'The chief of my results, and which comprehends nearly all the others,\nis the construction of an apparatus which resembles in its effects,\nviz. such as giving shocks to the arms, &c, the Leyden phial, and still\nbetter electric batteries weakly charged; . . . but which infinitely\nsurpasses the virtue and power of these same batteries; as it has no\nneed, like them, of being charged beforehand, by means of a foreign\nelectricity; and as it is capable of giving the usual commotion as\noften as ever it is properly touched.'\n\nWhilst Volta's success was based on avoiding Galvani's error, his\napparatus nevertheless turned out inadvertently to be a close\ncounterpart of precisely that animal organ which Galvani had in mind\nwhen misinterpreting his own discoveries! That Volta himself realized\nthis is clear from the concluding words in his letter:\n\n'This apparatus, as it resembles more the natural organ of the torpedo,\nor of the electrical eel, than the Leyden Phial or the ordinary\nelectric batteries, I may call an artificial electric organ.'\n\nThis new method of producing continuous electrical effects had\nfar-reaching results, one of which was the discovery of the magnetic\nproperties of the electric current by the Dane, Oersted - once again a\npurely accidental discovery, moving directly counter to the assumptions\nof the discoverer himself. About to leave the lecture room where he had\njust been trying to prove the non-existence of such magnetic properties\n(an attempt seemingly crowned with success), Oersted happened to glance\nonce more at his demonstration bench. To his astonishment he noticed\nthat one of his magnetic needles was out of alignment; evidently it was\nattracted by a magnetic field created by the current running through a\nwire he had just been using, which was still in circuit. Thus what had\nescaped Oersted throughout his planned researches - namely, that the\nmagnetic force which accompanies an electric current must be sought in\na direction at right angles to the current - a fortuitous event enabled\nhim to detect.\n\nThese repeated strokes of chance and frequently mistaken\ninterpretations of the phenomenon thus detected show that men were\nexploring the electrical realm as it were in the dark; it was a realm\nforeign to their ordinary ideas and they had not developed the forms of\nthought necessary for understanding it. (And this, as our further\nsurvey will show, is still true, even to-day.)\n\nIn our historical survey we come next to the researches of Faraday and\nMaxwell. Faraday was convinced that if electrical processes are\naccompanied by magnetic forces, as Oersted had shown, the reverse must\nalso be true - magnetism must be accompanied by electricity. He was led\nto this correct conviction by his belief in the qualitative unity of\nall the forces of nature - a reflexion, as his biography shows, of his\nstrongly monotheistic, Old Testament faith. Precisely this view,\nhowever - which since Faraday natural science has quite consciously\nadopted as a leading principle - will reveal itself to us as a\nfundamental error.\n\nIt seems paradoxical to assert that the more consistently human thought\nhas followed this error, the greater have been the results of the\nscientific investigation of electricity. Precisely this paradox,\nhowever, is characteristic of the realm of nature to which electricity\nbelongs; and anyone earnestly seeking to overcome the illusions of our\nage will have to face the fact that the immediate effectiveness of an\nidea in practice is no proof of its ultimate truth.\n\nAnother eloquent example of the strange destiny of human thought in\nconnexion with electricity is to be found in the work of Clark Maxwell,\nwho, starting from Faraday's discoveries, gave the theory of\nelectricity its mathematical basis. Along his purely theoretical line\nof thought he was led to the recognition of the existence of a form of\nelectrical activity hitherto undreamt of - electro-magnetic vibrations.\nStimulated by Maxwell's mathematical conclusions, Hertz and Marconi\nwere soon afterwards able to demonstrate those phenomena which have led\non the one hand to the electro-magnetic theory of light, and on the\nother to the practical achievements of wireless communication.\n\nOnce again, there is the paradoxical fact that this outcome of\nMaxwell's labours contradicts the very foundation on which he had built\nhis theoretical edifice. For his starting-point had been to form a\npicture of the electro-magnetic field of force to which he could apply\ncertain well-known formulae of mechanics. This he did by comparing the\nbehaviour of the electrical force to the currents of an elastic fluid -\nthat is, of a material substance. It is true that both he and his\nsuccessors rightly emphasized that such a picture was not in any way\nmeant as an explanation of electricity, but merely as an auxiliary\nconcept in the form of a purely external analogy. Nevertheless, it was\nin the guise of a material fluid that he thought of this force, and\nthat he could submit it to mathematical calculation. Yet the fact is\nthat from this starting-point the strict logic of mathematics led him\nto the discovery that electricity is capable of behaviour which makes\nit appear qualitatively similar to ... light!\n\nWhilst practical men were turning the work of Faraday and Maxwell to\naccount by exploiting the mechanical working of electricity in\npower-production, and its similarity to light in the wireless\ncommunication of thought, a new field of research, with entirely new\npractical possibilities, was suddenly opened up in the last third of\nthe nineteenth century through the discovery of how electricity behaves\nin rarefied air. This brings us to the discovery of cathode rays and\nthe phenomena accompanying them, from which the latest stage in the\nhistory of electricity originated. And here once more, as in the\nhistory of Galvani's discoveries, we encounter certain undercurrents of\nlonging and expectation in the human soul which seemed to find an\nanswer through this sudden, great advance in the knowledge of\nelectricity - an advance which has again led to practical applications\nof the utmost significance for human society, though not at all in the\nway first hoped for.\n\nInterest in the phenomena arising when electricity passes through gases\nwith reduced pressure had simultaneously taken hold of several\ninvestigators in the seventies of the nineteenth century. But the\ndecisive step in this sphere of research was taken by the English\nphysicist, William Crookes. He was led on by a line of thought which\nseems entirely irrelevant; yet it was this which first directed his\ninterest to the peculiar phenomena accompanying cathode rays; and they\nproved to be the starting-point of the long train of inquiry which has\nnow culminated in the release of atomic energy.3\n\nIn the midst of his many interests and activities, Crookes was filled\nfrom his youth with a longing to find by empirical means the bridge\nleading from the world of physical effects to that of superphysical\ncauses. He himself tells how this longing was awakened in him by the\nloss of a much-beloved brother. Before the dead body he came to the\nquestion, which thereafter was never to leave him, whether there was a\nland where the human individuality continues after it has laid aside\nits bodily sheath, and how that land was to be found. Seeing that\nscientific research was the instrument which modern man had forged to\npenetrate through the veil of external phenomena to the causes\nproducing them, it was natural for Crookes to turn to it in seeking the\nway from the one world into the other.\n\nIt was after meeting with a man able to produce effects within the\ncorporeal world by means of forces quite different from those familiar\nto science, that Crookes decided to devote himself to this scientific\nquest. Thus he first came into touch with that sphere of phenomena\nwhich is known as spiritualism, or perhaps more suitably, spiritism.\nCrookes now found himself before a special order of happenings which\nseemed to testify to a world other than that open to our senses;\nphysical matter here showed itself capable of movement in defiance of\ngravity, manifestations of light and sound appeared without a physical\nsource to produce them. Through becoming familiar with such things at\nseances arranged by his mediumistic acquaintance, he began to hope that\nhe had found the way by which scientific research could overstep the\nlimits of the physical world. Accordingly, he threw himself eagerly\ninto the systematic investigation of his new experiences, and so became\nthe father of modern scientific spiritism.\n\nCrookes had hoped that the scientists of his day would be positively\ninterested in his researches. But his first paper in this field, 'On\nPhenomena called Spiritual', was at once and almost unanimously\nrejected by his colleagues, and as long as he concerned himself with\nsuch matters he suffered through their opposition. It passed his\nunderstanding as a scientist why anything should be regarded in advance\nas outside the scope of scientific research. After several years of\nfruitless struggle he broke off his investigations into spiritism,\ndeeply disillusioned at his failure to interest official science in it.\nHis own partiality for it continued, however (he served as President of\nthe Society for Psychical Research from 1896-9), and he missed no\nopportunity of confessing himself a pioneer in the search for the\nboundary-land between the worlds of matter and spirit. Through all his\nvaried scientific work the longing persisted to know more of this land.\n\nJust as Crookes had once sought to investigate spiritism\nscientifically, so in his subsequent scientific inquiries he was always\nsomething of a spiritist. He admitted, indeed, that he felt specially\nattracted by the strange light effects arising when electricity passes\nthrough rarefied gases, because they reminded him of certain luminous\nphenomena he had observed during his spiritistic investigations.\nBesides this, there was the fact that light here showed itself\nsusceptible to the magnetic force in a way otherwise characteristic\nonly of certain material substances. Accordingly, everything combined\nto suggest to Crookes that here, if anywhere, he was at the boundary\nbetween the physical and the superphysical worlds. No wonder that he\nthrew himself into the study of these phenomena with enthusiasm.\n\nHe soon succeeded in evoking striking effects - light and heat, and\nalso mechanical - along the path of electricity passing invisibly\nthrough the tube later named after him. Thus he proved for the first\ntime visibly, so to say, the double nature - material and supermaterial\n- of electricity. What Crookes himself thought about these discoveries\nin the realm of the cathode rays we may judge from the title, 'Radiant\nMatter', or 'The Fourth State of Matter', which he gave to his first\npublication about them. And so he was only being consistent when, in\nhis lectures before the Royal Institution in London, and the British\nAssociation in Sheffield in 1879, after showing to an amazed scientific\naudience the newly discovered properties of electricity, he came to the\nclimax of his exposition by saying: 'We have seen that in some of its\nproperties Radiant Matter is as material as this table, whilst in other\nproperties it almost assumes the character of Radiant Energy. We have\nactually touched here the borderland where Matter and Force seem to\nmerge into one another, the shadowy realm between Known and Unknown,\nwhich for me has always had peculiar temptations.' And in boldly\nprophetic words, which time has partly justified, he added, 'I venture\nto think that the greatest scientific problems of the future will find\ntheir solution in this Borderland, and even beyond; here, it seems to\nme, lie Ultimate Realities, subtle, far-reaching, wonderful.'\n\nNo one can read these words of Crookes without hearing again, as an\nundertone, the question which had forced itself on him at the bedside\nof his dead brother, long before. All that is left of the human being\nwhom death has taken is a heap of substances, deserted by the force\nwhich had used them as the instrument of its own activity. Whither\nvanishes this force when it leaves the body, and is there any\npossibility of its revealing itself even without occupying such a body?\n\nStirred by this question, the young Crookes set out to find a world of\nforces which differ from the usual mechanical ones exercised by matter\non matter, in that they are autonomous, superior to matter in its inert\nconglomeration, yet capable of using matter, just as the soul makes use\nof the body so long as it dwells within it. His aim was to secure proof\nthat such forces exist, or, at any rate, to penetrate into the realm\nwhere the transition from matter to pure, matter-free force takes\nplace. And once again, as in Galvani's day, electricity fascinated the\neyes of a man who was seeking for the land of the soul. What spiritism\ndenied, electricity seemed to grant.\n\nThe aversion to spiritism which Crookes met with in contemporary\nscience was, from the standpoint of such a science, largely justified.\nScience, in the form in which Crookes himself conceived it, took for\ngranted that the relationship of human consciousness to the world was\nthat of external onlooking. Accordingly, if the scientist remained\nwithin the limits thus prescribed for consciousness, it was only\nconsistent to refuse to make anything beyond these limits an object of\nscientific research.\n\nOn the other hand, it says much for the courage and open mindedness of\nCrookes that he refused to be held back from what was for him the only\npossible way of extending the boundaries of science beyond the given\nphysical world. Moreover, it was only natural that in his search for a\nworld of a higher order than the physical he should, as a man of his\ntime, first turn his attention to spiritistic occurrences, for\nspiritism, as it had come over to Europe from America in the middle of\nthe nineteenth century, was nothing but an attempt by the\nonlooker-consciousness to learn something in its own way about the\nsupersensible world. The spiritist expects the spirit to reveal itself\nin outwardly perceptible phenomena as if it were part of the physical\nworld. Towards the end of his life Crookes confessed that if he were\nable to begin again he would prefer to study telepathic phenomena - the\ndirect transference of thought from one person to another - rather than\nthe purely mechanical, or so-called telekinetic, expressions of psychic\nforces. But although his interest was thus turning towards a more\ninterior field of psychic investigation, he remained true to his times\nin still assuming that knowledge about the world, whatever it might be,\ncould be won only by placing oneself as a mere onlooker outside the\nobject of research.\n\n*\n\nThe stream of new discoveries which followed Crookes's work justified\nhis conviction that in cathode ray phenomena we have to do with a\nfrontier region of physical nature. Still, the land that lies on the\nother side of this frontier is not the one Crookes had been looking for\nthroughout his life. For, instead of finding the way into the land\nwhither man's soul disappears at death, Crookes had inadvertently\ncrossed the border into another land - a land which the\ntwentieth-century scientist is impelled to call 'the country that is\nnot ours'.\n\nThe realm thrown open to science by Crookes's observations, which human\nknowledge now entered as if taking it by storm, was that of the\nradioactive processes of the mineral stratum of the earth. Many new and\nsurprising properties of electricity were discovered there - yet the\nriddle of electricity itself, instead of coming nearer, withdrew into\never deeper obscurity.\n\nThe very first step into this newly discovered territory made the\nriddle still more bewildering. As we have said, Maxwell's use of a\nmaterial analogy as a means of formulating mathematically the\nproperties of electro-magnetic fields of force had led to results which\nbrought electricity into close conjunction with light. In his own way\nCrookes focused, to begin with, his attention entirely on the\nlight-like character of electric effects in a vacuum. It was precisely\nthese observations, however, as continued by Lenard and others, which\npresently made it necessary to see in electricity nothing else than a\nspecial manifestation of inert mass.\n\nThe developments leading up to this stage are recent and familiar\nenough to be briefly summarized. The first step was once more an\naccident, when R\u00c3\u00b6ntgen (or rather one of his assistants) noticed that a\nbunch of keys, laid down by chance on top of an unopened box of\nphotographic plates near a cathode tube, had produced an inexplicable\nshadow-image of itself on one of the plates. The cathode tube was\napparently giving off some hitherto unknown type of radiation, capable\nof penetrating opaque substances. R\u00c3\u00b6ntgen was an experimentalist, not a\ntheorist; his pupils used to say privately that in publishing this\ndiscovery of X-rays he attempted a theoretical explanation for the\nfirst and only time in his life - and got it wrong!\n\nHowever, this accidental discovery had far-reaching consequences. It\ndrew attention to the fluorescence of minerals placed in the cathode\ntube; this inspired Becquerel to inquire whether naturally fluorescent\nsubstances gave off anything like X-rays, and eventually - yet again by\naccident - he came upon certain uranium compounds. These were found to\ngive off a radiation similar to X-rays, and to give it off naturally\nand all the time. Soon afterwards the Curies succeeded in isolating the\nelement, radium, an element which was found to be undergoing a\ncontinuous natural disintegration. The way was now clear for that long\nseries of experiments on atomic disintegration which led finally to the\nsplitting of the nucleus and the construction of the atomic bomb.\n\n*\n\nA typical modern paradox emerges from these results. By restricting his\ncognitive powers to a field of experience in which the concept of force\nas an objective reality was unthinkable, man has been led on a line of\npractical investigation the pursuit of which was bound to land him\namongst the force-activities of the cosmos. For what distinguishes\nelectric and sub-electric activities from all other forces of physical\nnature so far known to science, is that for their operation they have\nno need of the resistance offered by space-bound material bodies; they\nrepresent a world of pure dynamics into which spatial limitations do\nnot enter.\n\nEqually paradoxical is the situation of theoretical thinking in face of\nthat realm of natural being which practical research has lately\nentered. We have seen that this thinking, by virtue of the\nconsciousness on which it is founded, is impelled always to clothe its\nideas in spatial form. Wherever anything in the pure spatial adjacency\nof physical things remains inexplicable, resort is had to hypothetical\npictures whose content consists once more of nothing but spatially\nextended and spatially adjacent items. In this way matter came to be\nseen as consisting of molecules, molecules of atoms, and atoms of\nelectrons, protons, neutrons, and so forth.\n\nIn so far as scientific thought has held to purely spatial conceptions,\nit has been obliged to concentrate on ever smaller and smaller spatial\nsizes, so that the spatially conceived atom-picture has finally to\nreckon with dimensions wherein the old concept of space loses validity.\nWhen once thinking had started in this direction, it was electricity\nwhich once more gave it the strongest impulse to go even further along\nthe same lines.\n\nWhere we have arrived along this path is brought out in a passage in\nEddington's The Nature of the Physical World. There, after describing\nthe modern picture of electrons dancing round the atomic nucleus, he\nsays: 'This spectacle is so fascinating that we have perhaps forgotten\nthat there was a time when we wanted to be told what an electron is.\nThis question was never answered. No familiar conceptions can be woven\nround the electron; it belongs to the waiting list.' The only thing we\ncan say about the electron, if we are not to deceive ourselves,\nEddington concludes, is: 'Something unknown is doing we don't know\nwhat.'4\n\nLet us add a further detail from this picture of the atom, as given in\nEddington's Philosophy of Physical Science. Referring to the so-called\npositron, the positive particle regarded as the polar opposite of the\nnegative electron, he remarks: 'A positron is a hole from which an\nelectron has been removed; it is a bung-hole which would be evened up\nwith its surroundings if an electron were inserted. ... You will see\nthat the physicist allows himself even greater liberty than the\nsculptor. The sculptor removes material to obtain the form he desires.\nThe physicist goes further and adds material if necessary - an\noperation which he describes as removing negative material. He fills up\na bung-hole, saying he is removing a positron.' Eddington thus shows to\nwhat paradoxical ideas the scientist is driven, when with his\naccustomed forms of thought he ventures into regions where the\nconditions necessary for such forms no longer exist; and he concludes\nhis remarks with the following caution: 'Once again I would remind you\nthat objective truth is not the point at issue.'\n\nBy this reminder Eddington shows how far science has reconciled itself\nto the philosophic scepticism at which man's thinking had arrived in\nthe days of Hume. In so far as the above remark was intended to be a\nconsolation for the bewildered student, it is poor comfort in the light\nof the actions which science has let loose with the help of those\nunknown entities. For it is just this resignation of human thought\nwhich renders it unable to cope with the flood of phenomena springing\nfrom the sub-material realm of nature, and has allowed scientific\nresearch to outrun scientific understanding.\n\n1 E. du Bois-Raymond: Investigations into Animal Electricity (1884).\nGalvani published his discovery when the French Revolution had reached\nits zenith and Napoleon was climbing to power.\n\n2 The above account follows A. J. von Oettingen's edition of Galvani's\nmonograph, De viribus electricitatis in motu musculari.\n\n3 For what follows see The Life of Sir William Crookes, by E. E.\nFournier D'Albe (London, 1923).\n\n4 Eddington's italics. See also, in this respect, Professor White\nhead's criticism of the hypothetical picture of the electron and its\nbehaviour.\n\n\nPART II\n\nGoetheanism - Whence and Whither?\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nThe Adventure of Reason\n\nIn 1790, a year before Galvani's monograph, Concerning the Forces of\nElectricity, appeared, Goethe published his Metamorphosis of Plants,\nwhich represents the first step towards the practical overcoming of the\nlimitations of the onlooker-consciousness in science. Goethe's paper\nwas not destined to raise such a storm as soon followed Galvani's\npublication. And yet the fruit of Goethe's endeavours is not less\nsignificant than Galvani's discovery, for the progress of mankind. For\nin Goethe's achievement lay the seed of that form of knowing which man\nrequires, if in the age of the electrification of civilization he is to\nremain master of his existence.\n\n*\n\nAmong the essays in which Goethe in later years gave out some of the\nresults of his scientific observation in axiomatic form, is one called\n'Intuitive Judgment' ('Anschauende Urteilskraft'), in which he\nmaintains that he has achieved in practice what Kant had declared to be\nfor ever beyond the scope of the human mind. Goethe refers to a passage\nin the Critique of Judgment, where Kant defines the limits of human\ncognitional powers as he had observed them in his study of the peculiar\nnature of the human reason. We must first go briefly into Kant's own\nexposition of the matter.1\n\nKant distinguishes between two possible forms of reason, the\nintellectus archetypus and the intellectus ectypus. By the first he\nmeans a reason 'which being, not like ours, discursive, but intuitive,\nproceeds from the synthetic universal (the intuition of the whole as\nsuch) to the particular, that is, from the whole to the parts'.\nAccording to Kant, such a reason lies outside human possibilities. In\ncontrast to it, the intellectus ectypus peculiar to man is restricted\nto taking in through the senses the single details of the world as\nsuch; with these it can certainly construct pictures of their\ntotalities, but these pictures never have more than a hypothetical\ncharacter and can claim no reality for themselves. Above all, it is not\ngiven to such a thinking to think 'wholes' in such a way that through\nan act of thought alone the single items contained in them can be\nconceived as parts springing from them by necessity. (To illustrate\nthis, we may say that, according to Kant, we can certainly comprehend\nthe parts of an organism, say of a plant, and out of its components\nmake a picture of the plant as a whole; but we are not in a position to\nthink that 'whole' of the plant which conditions the existence of its\norganism and brings forth its parts by necessity.) Kant expresses this\nin the following way:\n\n'For external objects as phenomena an adequate ground related to\npurposes cannot be met with; this, although it lies in nature, must be\nsought only in the supersensible substrata of nature, from all possible\ninsight into which we are cut off. Our understanding has then this\npeculiarity as concerns the judgment, that in cognitive understanding\nthe particular is not determined by the universal and cannot therefore\nbe derived from it.'\n\nThe attempt to prove whether or not another form of reason than this\n(the intellectus archetypus) is possible - even though declared to be\nbeyond man - Kant regarded as superfluous, because the fact was enough\nfor him 'that we are led to the Idea of it - which contains no\ncontradiction - in contrast to our discursive understanding, which has\nneed of images (intellectus ectypus), and to the contingency of its\nconstitution'.\n\nKant here brings forward two reasons why it is permissible to conceive\nof the existence of an extra-human, archetypal reason. On the one hand\nhe admits that the existence of our own reason in its present condition\nis of a contingent order, and thus does not exclude the possible\nexistence of a reason differently constituted. On the other hand, he\nallows that we can think of a form of reason which in every respect is\nthe opposite of our own, without meeting any logical inconsistency.\n\nFrom these definitions emerges a conception of the properties of man's\ncognitional powers which agrees exactly with those on which, as we have\nseen, Hume built up his whole philosophy. Both allow to the reason a\nknowledge-material consisting only of pictures - that is, of pictures\nevoked in consciousness through sense-perception, and received by it\nfrom the outer world in the form of disconnected units, whilst denying\nit all powers, as Hume expressed it, ever 'to perceive any real\nconnections between distinct existences'.\n\nThis agreement between Kant and Hume must at first sight surprise us,\nwhen we recall that, as already mentioned, Kant worked out his\nphilosophy precisely to protect the cognizing being of man from the\nconsequences of Hume's thought. For, as he himself said, it was his\nbecoming acquainted with Hume's Treatise that 'roused him out of his\ndogmatic slumber' and obliged him to reflect on the foundations of\nhuman knowing. We shall understand this apparent paradox, however, if\nwe take it as a symptom of humanity's close imprisonment in recent\ncenturies within the limits of its onlooker-consciousness.\n\nIn his struggle against Hume, Kant was not concerned to challenge his\nopponent's definition of man's reasoning power. His sole object was to\nshow that, if one accepted this definition, one must not go as far as\nHume in the application of this power. All that Kant could aspire to do\nwas to protect the ethical from attack by the intellectual part of man,\nand to do this by proving that the former belongs to a world into which\nthe latter has no access. For with his will man belongs to a world of\npurposeful doing, whereas the reason, as our quotations have shown, is\nincapable even in observing external nature, of comprehending the\nwholes within nature which determine natural ends. Still less can it do\nthis in regard to man, a being who in his actions is integrated into\nhigher purposes.\n\nKant's deed is significant in that it correctly drew attention to that\npolar division in human nature which, after all, was already\nestablished in Kant's own time. Kant demonstrated also that to win\ninsight into the ethical nature of man with the aid of the isolated\nintellect alone implied a trespass beyond permissible limits. In order\nto give the doing part of the human being its necessary anchorage,\nhowever, Kant assigned it to a moral world-order entirely external to\nman, to which it could be properly related only through obedient\nsubmission.\n\nIn this way Kant became the philosopher of that division between\nknowledge and faith which to this day is upheld in both the\necclesiastical and scientific spheres of our civilization.\nNevertheless, he did not succeed in safeguarding humanity from the\nconsequences of Hume's philosophy; for man cannot live indefinitely in\nthe belief that with the two parts of his own being he is bound up with\ntwo mutually unrelated worlds. The time when this was feasible is\nalready over, as may be seen from the fact that ever greater masses of\nmen wish to determine their behaviour according to their own ideas, and\nas they see no alternative in the civilization around them but to form\nideas by means of the discursive reason which inevitably leads to\nagnosticism, they determine their actions accordingly. Meanwhile, the\nethical life as viewed by Kant accordingly shrinks ever further into a\npowerless, hole-and-corner existence.\n\n*\n\nIt is Goethe's merit to have first shown that there is a way out of\nthis impasse. He had no need to argue theoretically with Kant as to the\njustification of denying man any power of understanding apart from the\ndiscursive, and of leaving the faculty of intuitive knowledge to a\ndivinity somewhere outside the world of man. For Goethe was his own\nwitness that Kant was mistaken in regarding man's present condition as\nhis lasting nature. Let us hear how he expresses himself on this fact\nat the beginning of his essay written as an answer to Kant's statement:\n\n'It is true, the author here seems to be pointing to an intellect not\nhuman but divine. And yet, if in the moral sphere we are supposed to\nlift ourselves up to a higher region through faith in God, Virtue and\nImmortality, so drawing nearer to the Primal Being, why should it not\nbe likewise in the intellectual? By contemplation (Anschauen) of an\never-creative nature, may we not make ourselves worthy to be spiritual\nsharers in her productions? I at first, led by an inner urge that would\nnot rest, had quite unconsciously been seeking for the realm of Type\nand Archetype, and my attempt had been rewarded: I had been able to\nbuild up a description, in conformity with Nature herself. Now\ntherefore nothing more could hinder me from braving what the Old Man of\nthe King's Hill2 himself calls the Adventure of Reason.'\n\nGoethe started from the conviction that our senses as well as our\nintellect are gifts of nature, and that, if at any given moment they\nprove incapable through their collaboration of solving a riddle of\nnature, we must ask her to help us to develop this collaboration\nadequately. Thus there was no question for him of any restriction of\nsense-perception in order to bring the latter in line with the existing\npower of the intellect, but rather to learn to make an ever fuller use\nof the senses and to bring our intellect into line with what they tell.\n'The senses do not deceive, but the judgment deceives', is one of his\nbasic utterances concerning their respective roles in our quest for\nknowledge and understanding. As to the senses themselves, he was sure\nthat 'the human being is adequately equipped for all true earthly\nrequirements if he trusts his senses, and so develops them as to make\nthem worthy of trust'.\n\nThere is no contradiction in the statement that we have to trust our\nsenses, and that we have to develop them to make them trustworthy. For,\n'nature speaks upwards to the known senses of man, downwards to unknown\nsenses of his'. Goethe's path was aimed at wakening faculties, both\nperceptual and conceptual, which lay dormant in himself. His experience\nshowed him that 'every process in nature, rightly observed, wakens in\nus a new organ of cognition'. Right observation, in this respect,\nconsisted in a form of contemplating nature which he called a\n're-creating (creating in the wake) of an ever-creative nature'\n(Nachschaffen einer immer schaffenden Natur).\n\n*\n\nWe should do Goethe an injustice if we measured the value of his\nscientific work by the amount of factual knowledge he contributed to\none or other sphere of research. Although Goethe did bring many new\nthings to light, as has been duly recognized in the scientific fields\nconcerned, it cannot be gainsaid that other scientists in his own day,\nworking along the usual lines, far exceeded his total of discoveries.\nNor can it be denied that, as critics have pointed out, he occasionally\nwent astray in reporting his observations. These things, however, do\nnot determine the value or otherwise of his scientific labours. His\nwork draws its significance not so much from the 'what', to use a\nGoethean expression, as from the 'how' of his observations, that is,\nfrom his way of investigating nature. Having once developed this method\nin the field of plant observation, Goethe was able, with its aid, to\nestablish a new view of animal nature, to lay the basis for a new\nmeteorology, and, by creating his theory of light and colour, to\nprovide a model for a research in the field of physics, free from\nonlooker-restrictions.\n\nIn the scientific work of Goethe his botanical studies have a special\nplace. As a living organism, the plant is involved in an endless\nprocess of becoming. It shares this characteristic, of course, with the\nhigher creatures of nature, and yet between it and them there is an\nessential difference. Whereas in animal and man a considerable part of\nthe life-processes conceal themselves within the organism, in order to\nprovide a basis for inner soul processes, the plant brings its inner\nlife into direct and total outer manifestation. Hence the plant, better\nthan anything, could become Goethe's first teacher in his exercise of\nre-creating nature.\n\nIt is for the same reason that we shall here use the plant for\nintroducing Goethe's method. The following exposition, however, does\nnot aim at rendering in detail Goethe's own botanical researches,\nexpounded by him in two extensive essays, Morphology and The\nMetamorphosis of Plants, as well as in a series of smaller writings.\nThere are several excellent translations of the chief paper, the\nMetamorphosis, from which the English-speaking reader can derive\nsufficient insight into Goethe's way of expressing his ideas; a\npleasure as well as a profit which he should not deny himself.\n\nOur own way of procedure will have to be such that Goethe's method, and\nits fruitfulness for the general advance of science, come as clearly as\npossible into view.3 Botanical details will be referred to only as far\nas seems necessary for this purpose.\n\nThe data for observation, from which in Goethe's own fashion we shall\nstart, have been selected as best for our purpose, quite independently\nof the data used by Goethe himself. Our choice was determined by the\nmaterial available when these pages were being written. The reader is\nfree to supplement our studies by his own observation of other plants.\n\n*\n\nPlates II and III show two series of leaves which are so arranged as to\nrepresent definite stages in the growth-process of the plant concerned.\nIn each sequence shown the leaves have been taken from a single plant,\nin which each leaf-form was repeated, perhaps several times, before it\npassed over into the next stage. The leaves on Plate II come from a\nSidalcea (of the mallow family), those on Plate III from a Delphinium.\nWe will describe the forms in sequence, so that we may grasp as clearly\nas possible the transition from one to another as presented to the eye.\n\nStarting with the right-hand leaf at the bottom of Plate II, we let our\neye and mind be impressed by its characteristic form, seeking to take\nhold of the pattern after which it is shaped. Its edge bears numerous\nincisions of varying depths which, however, do not disturb the\nroundness of the leaf as a whole. If we re-create in our imagination\nthe 'becoming' of such a leaf, that is, its gradual growth in all\ndirections, we receive an impression of these incisions as 'negative'\nforms, because, at the points where they occur, the multiplication of\nthe cells resulting from the general growth has been retarded. We\nobserve that this holding back follows a certain order.\n\nWe now proceed to the next leaf on the same plate and observe that,\nwhilst the initial plan is faithfully maintained, the ratio between the\npositive and negative forms has changed. A number of incisions, hardly\nyet indicated in the first leaf, have become quite conspicuous. The\nleaf begins to look as if it were breaking up into a number of\nsubdivisions.\n\nIn the next leaf we find this process still further advanced. The large\nincisions have almost reached the centre, while a number of smaller\nones at the periphery have also grown deeper into the leaf. The basic\nplan of the total leaf is still maintained, but the negative forms have\nso far got the upper hand that the original roundness is no longer\nobvious.\n\nThe last leaf shows the process in its extreme degree. As we glance\nback and along the whole series of development, we recognize that the\nform of the last leaf is already indicated in that of the first. It\nappears as if the form has gradually come to the fore through certain\nforces which have increasingly prevented the leaf from filling in the\nwhole of its ground-plan with matter. In the last leaf the common plan\nis still visible in the distribution of the veins, but the fleshy part\nof the leaf has become restricted to narrow strips along these veins.\n\nThe metamorphosis of the delphinium leaf (Plate III) is of a different\ncharacter. Here the plant begins with a highly elaborate form of the\nleaf, while in the end nothing remains but the barest indication of it.\nThe impression received from this series of leaves is that of a gradual\nwithdrawal of the magnificent form, revealed in its fullness only in\nthe first leaf.\n\nA more intense impression of what these metamorphoses actually mean is\nachieved by altering our mode of contemplation in the following way.\nAfter repeated and careful observation of the different forms on either\nof the plates, we build up inwardly, as a memory picture, the shape of\nthe first leaf, and then transform this mental image successively into\nthe images of the ensuing forms until we reach the final stage. The\nsame process can also be tried retrogressively, and so repeated forward\nand backward.\n\nThis is how Goethe studied the doing of the plant, and it is by this\nmethod that he discovered the spiritual principle of all plant life,\nand succeeded also in throwing a first light on the inner\nlife-principle of animals.\n\n*\n\nWe chose the transformation of leaf forms into one another as the\nstarting-point of our observations, because the principle of\nmetamorphosis appears here in a most conspicuous manner. This\nprinciple, however, is not confined to this part of the plant's\norganism. In fact, all the different organs which the plant produces\nwithin its life cycle - foliage, calyx, corolla, organs of\nfertilization, fruit and seed - are metamorphoses of one and the same\norgan.\n\nMan has long learnt to make use of this law of metamorphosis in the\nplant for what is called doubling the flower of a certain species. Such\na flower crowds many additional petals within its original circle, and\nthese petals are nothing but metamorphosed stamens; this, for instance,\nis the difference between the wild and the cultivated rose. The\nmultitude of petals in the latter is obtained by the transformation of\na number of the former's innumerable stamens. (Note the intermediate\nstages between the two, often found inside the flower of such plants.)\n\nThis falling back from the stage of an organ of fertilization to that\nof a petal shows that the plant is capable of regressive metamorphosis,\nand we may conclude from this that in the normal sequence the different\norgans are transformed from one another by way of progressive\nmetamorphosis. It is evident that the regressive type occurs only as an\nabnormality, or as a result of artificial cultivation. Plants once\nbrought into this condition frequently show a general state of unrest,\nso that other organs also are inclined to fall back to a lower level.\nThus we may come across a rose, an outer petal of which appears in the\nform of a leaf of the calyx (sepal), or one of the sepals is found to\nhave grown into an ordinary rose leaf.\n\nWe now extend our mental exercise to the plant's whole organism. By a\nsimilar mental effort as applied to the leaf-formations we strive to\nbuild up a complete plant. We start with the seed, from which we first\nimagine the cotyledons unfolding, letting this be followed by the\ngradual development of the entire green part of the plant, its stem and\nleaves, until the final leaves change into the sepals of the calyx.\nThese again we turn into the petals of the flower, until via pistil and\nstamens the fruit and seed are formed.\n\nBy pursuing in this way the living doing of the plant from stage to\nstage we become aware of a significant rhythm in its total life cycle.\nThis, when first discovered by Goethe, gave him the key to an\nunderstanding of nature's general procedure in building living\norganisms, and in maintaining life in them.\n\nThe plant clearly divides into three major parts: firstly, the one that\nextends from the cotyledons to the calyx, the green part of the plant,\nthat is, where the life principle is most active; secondly, the one\ncomprising the flower itself with the organs of fertilization, where\nthe vitality of the plant gives way to other principles; and lastly,\nthe fruit and seed, which are destined to be discharged from the mother\norganism. Each of these three contains two kinds of organs: first,\norgans with the tendency to grow into width-leaf, flower and fruit;\nsecond, organs which are outwardly smaller and simpler, but have the\nfunction of preparing the decisive leaps in the plant's development:\nthese are the calyx, the stamens, etc., and the seed.\n\nIn this succession, Goethe recognized a certain rhythm of expansion and\ncontraction, and he found that the plant passes through it three times\nduring any one cycle of its life. In the foliage the plant expands, in\nthe calyx it contracts; it expands again in the flower and contracts in\nthe pistil and stamens; finally, it expands in the fruit and contracts\nin the seed.\n\nThe deeper meaning of this threefold rhythm will become clear when we\nconsider it against the background of what we observed in the\nmetamorphosis of the leaf. Take the mallow leaf; its metamorphosis\nshows a step-wise progression from coarser to finer forms, whereby the\ncharacteristic plan of the leaf comes more and more into view, so that\nin the topmost leaf it reaches a certain stage of perfection. Now we\nobserve that in the calyx this stage is not improved on, but that the\nplant recurs to a much simpler formation.\n\nWhilst in the case of the mallow the withdrawal from the stage of the\nleaf into that of the calyx occurs with a sudden leap, we observe that\nthe delphinium performs this process by degrees. Whilst the mallow\nreaches the highly elaborate form of the leaf only in the final stage,\nthe delphinium leaps forth at the outset, as it were, with the fully\naccomplished leaf, and then protracts its withdrawal into the calyx\nover a number of steps, so that this process can be watched with our\nvery eyes. In this type of metamorphosis the last leaf beneath the\ncalyx shows a form that differs little from that of a calyx itself,\nwith its simple sepals. Only in its general geometrical arrangement\ndoes it still remind us of the original pattern.\n\nIn a case like this, the stem-leaves, to use Goethe's expression,\n'softly steal into the calyx stage'.4 In the topmost leaf the plant has\nalready achieved something which, along the other line of\nmetamorphosis, is tackled only after the leaf plan itself has been\ngradually executed. In this case the calyx stage, we may say, is\nattained at one leap.\n\nWhatever type of metamorphosis is followed by a plant (and there are\nothers as well, so that we may even speak of metamorphoses between\ndifferent types of metamorphosis!) they all obey the same basic rule,\nnamely, that before proceeding to the next higher stage of the cycle,\nthe plant sacrifices something already achieved in a preceding one.\nBehind the inconspicuous sheath of the calyx we see the plant preparing\nitself for a new creation of an entirely different order. As successor\nto the leaf, the flower appears to us time and again as a miracle.\nNothing in the lower realm of the plant predicts the form, colour,\nscent and all the other properties of the new organ produced at this\nstage. The completed leaf, preceding the plant's withdrawal into the\ncalyx, represents a triumph of structure over matter. Now, in the\nflower, matter is overcome to a still higher degree. It is as if the\nmaterial substance here becomes transparent, so that what is immaterial\nin the plant may shine through its outer surface.\n\n*\n\nIn this 'climbing up the spiritual ladder' Goethe learned to recognize\none of nature's basic principles. He termed it Steigerung\n(heightening). Thus he saw the plant develop through Metamorphosis and\nHeightening towards its consummation. Implicit in the second of these\ntwo principles, however, there is yet another natural principle for\nwhich Goethe did not coin a specific term, although he shows through\nother utterances that he was well aware of it, and of its universal\nsignificance for all life. We propose to call it here the principle of\nRenunciation.\n\nIn the life of the plant this principle shows itself most conspicuously\nwhere the green leaf is heightened into the flower. While progressing\nfrom leaf to flower the plant undergoes a decisive ebb in its vitality.\nCompared with the leaf, the flower is a dying organ. This dying,\nhowever, is of a kind we may aptly call a 'dying into being'. Life in\nits mere vegetative form is here seen withdrawing in order that a\nhigher manifestation of the spirit may take place. The same principle\ncan be seen at work in the insect kingdom, when the caterpillar's\ntremendous vitality passes over into the short-lived beauty of the\nbutterfly. In the human being it is responsible for that metamorphosis\nof organic processes which occurs on the path from the metabolic to the\nnervous system, and which we came to recognize as the precondition for\nthe appearance of consciousness within the organism.\n\nWhat powerful forces must be at work in the plant organism at this\npoint of transition from its green to its coloured parts! They enforce\na complete halt upon the juices that rise up right into the calyx, so\nthat these bring nothing of their life-bearing activity into the\nformation of the flower, but undergo a complete transmutation, not\ngradually, but with a sudden leap.\n\nAfter achieving its masterpiece in the flower, the plant once more goes\nthrough a process of withdrawal, this time into the tiny organs of\nfertilization. (We shall return later to this essential stage in the\nlife cycle of the plant, and shall then clear up the misinterpretation\nput upon it ever since scientific biology began.) After fertilization,\nthe fruit begins to swell; once more the plant produces an organ with a\nmore or less conspicuous spatial extension. This is followed by a final\nand extreme contraction in the forming of the seed inside the fruit. In\nthe seed the plant gives up all outer appearance to such a degree that\nnothing seems to remain but a small, insignificant speck of organized\nmatter. Yet this tiny, inconspicuous thing bears in it the power of\nbringing forth a whole new plant.\n\nIn these three successive rhythms of expansion and contraction the\nplant reveals to us the basic rule of its existence. During each\nexpansion, the active principle of the plant presses forth into visible\nappearance; during each contraction it withdraws from outer embodiment\ninto what we may describe as a more or less pure state of being. We\nthus find the spiritual principle of the plant engaged in a kind of\nbreathing rhythm, now appearing, now disappearing, now assuming power\nover matter, now withdrawing from it again.\n\nIn the fully developed plant this rhythm repeats itself three times in\nsuccession and at ever higher levels, so that the plant, in climbing\nfrom stage to stage, each time goes through a process of withdrawal\nbefore appearing at the next. The greater the creative power required\nat a certain stage, the more nearly complete must be the withdrawal\nfrom outer appearance. This is why the most extreme withdrawal of the\nplant into the state of being takes place in the seed, when the plant\nprepares itself for its transition from one generation to another. Even\nearlier, the flower stands towards the leaves as something like a new\ngeneration springing from the small organ of the calyx, as does the\nfruit to the flower when it arises from the tiny organs of\nreproduction. In the end, however, nothing appears outwardly so unlike\nthe actual plant as the little seed which, at the expense of all\nappearance, has the power to renew the whole cycle.\n\nThrough studying the plant in this way Goethe grew aware also of the\nsignificance of the nodes and eyes which the plant develops as points\nwhere its vital energy is specially concentrated; not only the seed,\nbut the eye also, is capable of producing a new, complete plant. In\neach of these eyes, formed in the axils of the leaves, the power of the\nplant is present in its entirety, very much as in each single seed.\n\nIn other ways, too, the plant shows its capacity to act as a whole at\nvarious places of its organism. Otherwise, no plant could be propagated\nby cuttings; in any little twig cut from a parent plant, all the\nmanifold forces operative in the gathering, transmuting, forming of\nmatter, that are necessary for the production of root, leaf, flower,\nfruit, etc., are potentially present, ready to leap into action\nprovided we give it suitable outer conditions. Other plants, such as\ngloxinia and begonia, are known to have the power of bringing forth a\nnew, complete plant from each of their leaves. From a small cut applied\nto a vein in a leaf, which is then embedded in earth, a root will soon\nbe seen springing downward, and a stalk with leaves rising upward.\n\nA particular observation made by Goethe in this respect is of interest\nfor methodological reasons. In the introduction to his treatise\nMetamorphosis of Plants, when referring to the regressive metamorphosis\nof stamens into petals as an example of an irregular metamorphosis, he\nremarks that 'experiences of this kind of metamorphosis will enable us\nto disclose what is hidden from us in the regular way of development,\nand to see clearly and visibly what we should otherwise only be able to\ninfer'. In this remark Goethe expresses a truth that is valid in many\nspheres of life, both human and natural. It is frequently a\npathological aberration in an organic entity that allows us to see in\nphysical appearance things that do not come outwardly to the fore in\nthe more balanced condition of normal development, although they are\nequally part of the regular organic process.\n\nAn enlightening experience of this kind came to Goethe's aid when one\nday he happened to see a 'proliferated' rose (durchgewachsene Rose),\nthat is, a rose from whose centre a whole new plant had sprung. Instead\nof the contracted seed-pod, with the attached, equally contracted,\norgans of fertilization, there appeared a continuation of the stalk,\nhalf red and half green, bearing in succession a number of small\nreddish petals with traces of anthers. Thorns could be seen appearing\nfurther up, petals half-turned into leaves, and even a number of fresh\nnodes from which little imperfect flowers were budding. The whole\nphenomenon, in all its irregularity, was one more proof for Goethe that\nthe plant in its totality is potentially present at each point of its\norganism.5\n\n*\n\nGoethe's observation of the single plant in statu agendi had trained\nhim to recognize things of quite different outer appearance as\nidentical in their inner nature. Leaf, sepal, petal, etc., much as they\ndiffer outwardly, yet showed themselves to him as manifestations of one\nand the same spiritual archetype. His idea of Metamorphosis enabled him\nto reduce what in outer appearance seems incompatibly different to its\ncommon formative principle. His next step was to observe the different\nappearances of one and the same species in different regions of the\nearth, and thus to watch the capacity of the species to respond in a\ncompletely flexible way to the various climatic conditions, yet without\nconcealing its inner identity in the varying outer forms. His travels\nin Switzerland and Italy gave him opportunity for such observations,\nand in the Alpine regions especially he was delighted at the variations\nin the species which he already knew so well from his home in Weimar.\nHe saw their proportions, the distances between the single parts, the\ndegree of lignification, the intensity of colour, etc., varying with\nthe varied conditions, yet never concealing the identity of the\nspecies.\n\nHaving once advanced in his investigations from metamorphosis in the\nparts of the single plant to metamorphosis among different\nrepresentatives of single plant species, Goethe had to take only one\nfurther, entirely decisive, step in order to recognize how every member\nof the plant kingdom is the manifestation of a single formative\nprinciple common to them all. He was thus faced with the momentous task\nof preparing his spirit to think an idea from which the plant world in\nits entire variety could be derived.\n\nGoethe did not take such a step easily, for it was one of his\nscientific principles never to think out an idea prematurely. He was\nwell aware that he who aspires to recognize and to express in idea the\nspirit which reveals itself through the phenomena of the sense-world\nmust develop the art of waiting - of waiting, however, in a way\nintensely active, whereby one looks again and yet again, until what one\nlooks at begins to speak and the day at last dawns when, through\ntireless 're-creation of an ever-creating nature', one has grown ripe\nto express her secrets openly. Goethe was a master in this art of\nactive waiting.\n\n* It was in the very year that Galvani, through his chance discovery,\nopened the way to the overwhelming invasion of mankind by the purely\nphysical forces of nature, that Goethe came clearly to see that he had\nachieved the goal of his labours. We can form some picture of the\ndecisive act in the drama of his seeking and finding from letters\nwritten during the years 1785-7.\n\nIn the spring of 1785 he writes to a friend in a way that shows him\nfully aware of his new method of studying nature, which he recognized\nwas a reading of her phenomena: 'I can't tell you how the Book of\nNature is becoming readable to me. My long practice in spelling has\nhelped me; it now suddenly works, and my quiet joy is inexpressible.'\nAgain in the summer of the following year: 'It is a growing aware of\nthe Form with which again and again nature plays, and, in playing,\nbrings forth manifold life.'\n\nThen Goethe went on his famous journey to Italy which was to bear such\nsignificant fruit for his inner life, both in art and in science. At\nMichaelmas, 1786, he reports from his visit to the botanical garden in\nPadua that 'the thought becomes more and more living that it may be\npossible out of one form to develop all plant forms'. At this moment\nGoethe felt so near to the basic conception of the plant for which he\nwas seeking, that he already christened it with a special name. The\nterm he coined for it is Urpflanze, literally rendered archetypal\nplant, or ur-plant, as we propose quite simply to call it.6\n\nIt was the rich tropical and sub-tropical vegetation in the botanical\ngardens in Palermo that helped Goethe to his decisive observations. The\npeculiar nature of the warmer regions of the earth enables the spirit\nto reveal itself more intensively than is possible in the temperate\nzone. Thus in tropical vegetation many things come before the eye which\notherwise remain undisclosed, and then can be detected only through an\neffort of active thought. From this point of view, tropical vegetation\nis 'abnormal' in the same sense as was the proliferated rose which\nconfirmed for Goethe's physical perception that inner law of\nplant-growth which had already become clear to his mind.\n\nDuring his sojourn in Palermo in the spring of 1787 Goethe writes in\nhis notebook: 'There must be one (ur-plant): how otherwise could we\nrecognize this or that formation to be a plant unless they were all\nformed after one pattern?' Soon after this, he writes in a letter to\nthe poet Herder, one of his friends in Weimar:\n\n'Further, I must confide to you that I am quite close to the secret of\nplant creation, and that it is the simplest thing imaginable. The\nur-plant will be the strangest creature in the world, for which nature\nherself should envy me. With this model and the key to it one will be\nable to invent plants ad infinitum; they would be consistent; that is\nto say, though non-existing, they would be capable of existing, being\nno shades or semblances of the painter or poet, but possessing truth\nand necessity. The same law will be capable of extension to all living\nthings.'\n\n*\n\nTo become more familiar with the conception of the ur-plant, let us\nbring the life-cycle of the plant before our inner eye once again.\nThere, all the different organs of the plant-leaf, blossom, fruit, etc.\n- appear as the metamorphic revelations of the one, identical active\nprinciple, a principle which gradually manifests itself to us by way of\nsuccessive heightening from the cotyledons to the perfected glory of\nthe flower. Amongst all the forms which thus appear in turn, that of\nthe leaf has a special place; for the leaf is that organ of the plant\nin which the ground-plan of all plant existence comes most immediately\nto expression. Not only do all the different leaf forms arise, through\nendless changing, out of each other, but the leaf, in accordance with\nthe same principle, also changes itself into all the other organs which\nthe plant produces in the course of its growth.\n\nIt is by precisely the same principle that the ur-plant reveals itself\nin the plant kingdom as a whole. Just as in the single plant organism\nthe different parts are a graduated revelation of the ur-plant, so are\nthe single kinds and species within the total plant world. As we let\nour glance range over all its ranks and stages (from the single-celled,\nalmost formless alga to the rose and beyond to the tree), we are\nfollowing, step by step, the revelation of the ur-plant. Barely hinting\nat itself in the lowest vegetable species, it comes in the next higher\nstages into ever clearer view, finally streaming forth in full glory in\nthe magnificence of the manifold blossoming plants. Then, as its\nhighest creation, it brings forth the tree, which, itself a veritable\nminiature earth, becomes the basis for innumerable single plant\ngrowths.\n\nIt has struck biologists of Goethe's own and later times that contrary\nto their method he did not build up his study of the plant by starting\nwith its lowest form, and so the reproach has been levelled against him\nof having unduly neglected the latter. Because of this, the views he\nhad come to were regarded as scientifically unfounded. Goethe's\nnote-books prove that there is no justification for such a reproach. He\nwas in actual fact deeply interested in the lower plants, but he\nrealized that they could not contribute anything fundamental to the\nspiritual image of the plant as such which he was seeking to attain. To\nunderstand the plant he found himself obliged to pay special attention\nto examples in which it came to its most perfect expression. For what\nwas hidden in the alga was made manifest in the rose. To demand of\nGoethe that in accordance with ordinary science he should have\nexplained nature 'from below upwards' is to misunderstand the\nmethodological basis of all his investigations.\n\nSeen with Goethe's eyes, the plant kingdom as a whole appears to be a\nsingle mighty plant. In it the ur-plant, while pressing into\nappearance, is seen to observe the very rule which we have found\ngoverning its action in the single plant - that of repeated expansion\nand contraction.7 Taking the tree in the sense already indicated, as\nthe state of highest expansion along the ur-plant's way of entering\ninto spatial manifestation, we note that tree-formation occurs\nsuccessively at four different levels - as fern-tree (also the extinct\ntree-form of the horsetail) among the cryptogams, as coniferous tree\namong the gymnosperms, as palm-tree among the monocotyledons, and\nlastly in the form of the manifold species of the leaf-trees at the\nhighest level of the plant kingdom, the dicotyledons. All these levels\nhave come successively into existence, as geological research has\nshown; the ur-plant achieved these various tree-formations\nsuccessively, thus giving up again its state of expansion each time\nafter having reached it at a particular level.\n\nFrom the concept of the ur-plant Goethe soon learned to develop another\nconcept which was to express the spiritual principle working in a\nparticular plant species, just as the ur-plant was the spiritual\nprinciple covering the plant kingdom as a whole. He called it the type.\nIn the manifold types which are thus seen active in the plant world we\nmeet offsprings, as it were, of the mother, the 'ur-plant', which in\nthem assumes differentiated modes of action.\n\nThe present part of our discussion may be concluded by the introduction\nof a concept which Goethe formed for the organ of cognition attained\nthrough contemplating nature in the state of becoming, as the plant had\ntaught him to do.\n\nLet us look back once again on the way in which we first tried to build\nup the picture of leaf metamorphosis. There we made use, first of all,\nof exact sense-perceptions to which we applied the power of memory in\nits function as their keeper. We then endeavoured to transform within\nour mind the single memory pictures (leaf forms) into one another. By\ndoing so we applied to them the activity of mobile fantasy. In this way\nwe actually endowed, on the one hand, objective memory, which by nature\nis static, with the dynamic properties of fantasy, and, on the other\nhand, mobile fantasy, which by nature is subjective, with the objective\ncharacter of memory. Now, for the new organ of cognition arising from\nthe union of these two polar faculties of the soul, Goethe coined the\nsignificant expression, exact sensorial fantasy.8 In terms of our\nknowledge of man's psycho-physical make-up, acquired earlier, we can\nsay that, just as the nervous system forms the basis for memory, and\nthe blood the basis for fantasy, so the 'exact sensorial fantasy' is\nbased on a newly created collaboration of the two.\n\n*\n\nOur observations have reached a point where we may consider that stage\nin the life cycle of the single plant where, by means of the process of\npollination, the seed acquires the capacity to produce out of itself a\nnew example of the species. Our discussion of this will bring home the\nfundamental difference in idea that arises when, instead of judging a\nprocess from the standpoint of the mere onlooker, we try to comprehend\nit through re-creating it inwardly.\n\nBiological science of our day takes it for granted that the process\nuniting pollen with seed in the plant is an act of fertilization\nanalogous to that which occurs among the higher organisms of nature.\nNow it is not to be gainsaid that to external observation this\ncomparison seems obvious, and that it is therefore only natural to\nspeak of the pollen as the male, and of the ovule as the female,\nelement, and of their union as entirely parallel to that between the\nsexes in the higher kingdoms of nature.\n\nGoethe confesses that at first he himself 'had credulously put up with\nthe ruling dogma of sexuality'. He was first made aware of the\ninvalidity of this analogy by Professor Schelver who, as Superintendent\nof the Jena Botanical Institute, was working under Goethe's direction\nand had trained himself in Goethe's method of observing plants. This\nman had come to see that if one held strictly to the Goethean practice\nof using nothing for the explanation of the plant but what one could\nread from the plant itself, one must not ascribe to it any sexual\nprocess. He was convinced that for a Goethean kind of biology it must\nbe possible to find, even for the process of pollination, an idea\nderived from nothing but the two principles of plant life: growth and\nformation.\n\nGoethe immediately recognized the Tightness of this thought, and set\nabout the task of relating the pollination process to the picture of\nthe plant which his investigations had already yielded. His way of\nreporting the result shows how fully conscious he was of its\nrevolutionary nature. Nor was he in any doubt as to the kind of\nreception it would be given by official biology.\n\nIn observing the growth of the plant, Goethe had perceived that this\nproceeds simultaneously according to two different principles. On the\none hand the plant grows in an axial direction and thereby produces its\nmain and side stems. To this growth principle Goethe gave the name\n'vertical tendency'. Were the plant to follow this principle only, its\nlateral shoots would all stand vertically one above the other. But\nobservation shows that the different plant species obey very different\nlaws in this respect, as may be seen if one links up all the leaf buds\nalong any plant stem; they form a line which winds spiral fashion\naround it. Each plant family is distinguishable by its own\ncharacteristic spiral, which can be represented either geometrically by\na diagram, or arithmetically by a fraction. If, for example, the leaves\nare so arranged in a plant that every fifth leaf recurs on the same\nside of the stem, while the spiral connecting the five successive\nleaf-buds winds twice round the stem, this is expressed in botany by\nthe fraction 2 / 5. To distinguish this principle of plant growth from\nthe vertical tendency, Goethe used the term 'spiral tendency'.\n\nTo help towards a clear understanding of both tendencies, Goethe\ndescribes an exercise which is characteristic of his way of schooling\nhimself in what he called exact sensorial fantasy. He first looks out\nfor a phenomenon in which the 'secret' of the spiral tendency is made\n'open'. This he finds in such a plant as the convolvulus; in this kind\nof plant the vertical tendency is lacking, and the spiral principle\ncomes obviously into outer view. Accordingly, the convolvulus requires\nan external support, around which it can wind itself. Goethe now\nsuggests that after looking at a convolvulus as it grows upwards around\nits support, one should first make this clearly present to one's inner\neye, and then again picture the plant's growth without the vertical\nsupport, allowing instead the upward-growing plant inwardly to produce\na vertical support for itself. By way of inward re-creation (which the\nreader should not fail to carry out himself) Goethe attained a clear\nexperience of how, in all those plants which in growing upwards produce\ntheir leaves spiral-wise around the stem, the vertical and spiral\ntendencies work together.\n\nIn following the two growth-principles, Goethe saw that the vertical\ncomes to a halt in the blossom; the straight line here shrinks\ntogether, so to say, into a point, surviving only in the ovary and\npistil as continuations of the plant's stalk. The spiral tendency, on\nthe other hand, is to be found in the circle of the stamens arranged\naround these; the process which in the leaves strove outwards in spiral\nsuccession around a straight line is now telescoped on to a single\nplane. In other words, the vertical-spiral growth of the plant here\nseparates into its two components. And when a pollen grain lands on a\npistil and joins with the ovule prepared in the ovary, the two\ncomponents are united again. Out of the now complete seed a new and\ncomplete plant can arise.\n\nGoethe understood that he would be taught a correct conception of this\nprocess only by the plant itself. Accordingly, he asked himself where\nelse in the growing plant something like separation and reunion could\nbe seen. This he found in the branching and reuniting of the veins in\nthe leaves, known as anastomosis.\n\nIn the dividing of the two growth-principles in the plant through the\nformation of carpel and pistil, on the one hand, and the pollen-bearing\nstamens on the other, and in their reunion through the coming together\nof the pollen with the seed, Goethe recognized a metamorphosis of the\nprocess of anastomosis at a higher level. His vision of it caused him\nto term it 'spiritual anastomosis'.\n\nGoethe held a lofty and comprehensive view of the significance of the\nmale and female principles as spiritual opposites in the cosmos. Among\nthe various manifestations of this polarity in earthly nature he found\none, but one only, in the duality of the sexes as characteristic of man\nand animal. Nothing compelled him, therefore, to ascribe it in the same\nform to the plant. This enabled him to discover how the plant bore the\nsame polarity in plant fashion.\n\nIn the neighbourhood of Weimar, Goethe often watched a vine slinging\nits foliaged stem about the trunk and branches of an elm tree. In this\nimpressive sight nature offered him a picture of 'the female and male,\nthe one that needs and the one that gives, side by side in the vertical\nand spiral directions'. Thus his artist's eye clearly detected in the\nupward striving of the plant a decisively masculine principle, and in\nits spiral winding an equally definite feminine principle. Since in the\nnormal plant both principles are inwardly connected, 'we can represent\nvegetation as a whole as being in a secret androgynous union from the\nroot up. From this union, through the changes of growth, both systems\nbreak away into open polarity and so stand in decisive opposition to\neach other, only to unite again in a higher sense.'\n\nThus Goethe found himself led to ideas regarding the male and female\nprinciples in the plant, which were the exact opposite of those one\nobtains if, in trying to explain the process of pollination, one does\nnot keep to the plant itself but imports an analogy from another\nkingdom of nature. For in continuance of the vertical principle of the\nplant, the pistil and carpel represent the male aspect in the process\nof spiritual anastomosis, and the mobile, wind- or insect-borne pollen,\nin continuing the spiral principle, represents the female part.\n\nIf the process of pollination is what the plant tells us it is, then\nthe question arises as to the reason for the occurrence of such a\nprocess in the life cycle of the fully developed plant. Goethe himself\nhas not expressed himself explicitly on this subject. But his term\n'spiritual anastomosis' shows that he had some definite idea about it.\nLet us picture in our mind what happens physically in the plant as a\nresult of pollination and then try to read from this picture, as from a\nhieroglyph, what act of the spiritual principle in the plant comes to\nexpression through it.\n\nWithout pollination there is no ripening of the seed. Ripening means\nfor the seed its acquisition of the power to bring forth a new and\nindependent plant organism through which the species continues its\nexistence within nature. In the life cycle of the plant this event\ntakes place after the organism has reached its highest degree of\nphysical perfection. When we now read these facts in the light of the\nknowledge that they are deeds of the activity of the type, we may\ndescribe them as follows:\n\nStage by stage the type expends itself in ever more elaborate forms of\nappearance, until in the blossom a triumph of form over matter is\nreached. A mere continuation of this path could lead to nothing but a\nloss of all connexion between the plant's superphysical and physical\ncomponent parts. Thus, to guarantee for the species its continuation in\na new generation, the formative power of the type must find a way of\nlinking itself anew to some part of the plant's materiality. This is\nachieved by the plant's abandoning the union between its two polar\ngrowth-principles and re-establishing it again, which in the majority\nof cases takes place even in such a way that the bearers of the two\nprinciples originate from two different organisms.\n\nBy picturing the process in this way we are brought face to face with a\nrule of nature which, once we have recognized it, proves to hold sway\nat all levels of organic nature. In general terms it may be expressed\nas follows:\n\nIn order that spiritual continuity may be maintained within the coming\nand going multitude of nature's creations, the physical stream must\nsuffer discontinuity at certain intervals.\n\nIn the case of the plant this discontinuity is achieved by the breaking\nasunder of the male and female growth-principles. When they have\nreunited, the type begins to abandon either the entire old plant or at\nleast part of it, according to whether the species is an annual or a\nperennial one, in order to concentrate on the tiny seed, setting, as it\nwere, its living seal on it.\n\nThis is as far as we can go in describing this mysterious process, at\nleast at the present stage of our considerations.\n\n*\n\nOur pursuit of Goethe's way of observing the life of the plant has\nbrought us to a point where it becomes possible to rectify a widespread\nerror concerning his position as an evolutionary theorist.\n\nGoethe has been honourably mentioned as a predecessor of Darwin. The\ntruth is, that the idea of evolution emerging from Goethe's mode of\nregarding nature is the exact opposite of the one held by Darwin and -\nin whatever modified form - by his followers. A brief consideration of\nthe Darwinian concepts of inheritance and adaptation will show this.\n\nGoethe's approach to his conception of the type is clear evidence that\nhe did not undervalue the factor of adaptation as a formative element\nin nature; we have seen that he became acquainted with it in studying\nthe same plant species under different climatic conditions. In his\nview, however, adaptation appears not as the passive effect of a\nblindly working, external cause, but as the response of the spiritual\ntype to the conditions meeting it from outside.\n\nThe same applies to the concept of inheritance. Through inheritance\nGoethe saw single, accessory characteristics of a species being carried\nover from one generation to the next; but never could the reappearance\nof the basic features of the species itself be explained in this way.\nHe was sufficiently initiated into nature's methods to know that she\nwas not in need of a continuity of the stream of physical substance, in\nthe sense of the theory of inheritance, to guarantee a continuance of\nthe features of the species through successive generations, but that it\nwas her craft to achieve such continuance by means of physical\ndiscontinuity.\n\n*\n\nGoethe was not temperamentally given to reflecting deliberately about\nhis own cognitional processes. Moreover, the excess of reflexion going\non around him in the intellectual life of his younger days inclined him\nto guard himself with a certain anxiety against philosophical\ncogitations. His words to a friend - 'Dear friend, I have done it well,\nand never reflected about thinking' - bring this home to us. If in his\nlater years Goethe could become to some degree epistemologically\nconscious of his spiritual achievements, as, for instance, his essay on\nIntuitive Judgment shows, he owed this to his friendship with Schiller,\nwho became for him a kind of soul mirror, in which he could see the\nreflexion of his own processes of consciousness. Indeed, at their first\npersonal encounter, significant as it was for their whole later\nrelationship, Schiller - though all unconsciously - performed a\ndecisive service of this kind for him. Goethe himself speaks of the\noccasion in his essay Happy Encounter (Gliickliches Ereignis), written\ntwelve years after Schiller's death.\n\nThe occasion was, outwardly regarded, fortuitous: both men were leaving\na lecture on natural science at the University of Jena, Schiller having\nbeen present as Professor of History in the University, and Goethe as\nits patron and as a Weimar Minister of State. They met at the door of\nthe lecture hall and went out into the street together. Schiller, who\nhad been wanting to come into closer contact with Goethe for a long\ntime, used the opportunity to begin a conversation. He opened with a\ncomment on the lecture they had just heard, saying that such a\npiecemeal way of handling nature could not bring the layman any real\nsatisfaction. Goethe, to whom this remark was heartily welcome, replied\nthat such a style of scientific observation 'was uncanny even for the\ninitiated, and that there must certainly be another way altogether,\nwhich did not treat of nature as divided and in pieces, but presented\nher as working and alive, striving out of the whole into the parts'.\n\nSchiller's interest was at once aroused by this remark, although as a\nthorough Kantian he could not conceal his doubts whether the kind of\nthing indicated by Goethe was within human capacity. Goethe began to\nexplain himself further, and so the discussion proceeded, until the\nspeakers arrived at Schiller's house. Quite absorbed in his description\nof plant metamorphosis, Goethe went in with Schiller and climbed the\nstairs to the latter's study. Once there, he seized pen and paper from\nSchiller's writing desk, and to bring his conception of the ur-plant\nvividly before his companion's eyes he made 'a symbolic plant appear\nwith many a characteristic stroke of the pen'.\n\nAlthough Schiller had listened up to this point 'with great interest\nand definite understanding', he shook his head as Goethe finished, and\nsaid - Kantian that he was at that time: 'That is no experience, that\nis an idea.' These words were very disappointing to Goethe. At once his\nold antipathy towards Schiller rose up, an antipathy caused by much in\nSchiller's public utterances which he had found distasteful.\n\nOnce again he felt that Schiller and he were 'spiritual antipodes,\nremoved from each other by more than an earth diameter'. However,\nGoethe restrained his rising annoyance, and answered Schiller in a\ntranquil but determined manner: 'I am glad to have ideas without\nknowing it, and to see them with my very eyes.'\n\nAlthough at this meeting Goethe and Schiller came to no real agreement,\nthe personal relationship formed through it did not break off; both had\nbecome aware of the value of each to the other. For Goethe his first\nmeeting with Schiller had the significant result of showing him that\n'thinking about thought' could be fruitful. For Schiller this\nsignificance consisted in his having met in Goethe a human intellect\nwhich, simply by its existing properties, invalidated Kant's\nphilosophy. For him Goethe's mind became an object of empirical study\non which he based the beginnings of a new philosophy free from\nonlooker-restrictions.\n\nAn essay, written by Goethe about the same time as the one just quoted,\nshows how he came to think at a later date about the raising of human\nperception into the realm of ideas. In this essay, entitled Discovery\nof an Excellent Predecessor,9 Goethe comments on certain views of the\nbotanist, K. F. Wolff, regarding the relationships between the\ndifferent plant organs, which seemed to be similar to his own, and at\nwhich Wolff had arrived in his own way.\n\nWolff had risen up as an opponent of the so-called preformation theory,\nstill widespread at that time, according to which the entire plant with\nall its different parts is already present in embryonic physical form\nin the seed, and simply grows out into space through physical\nenlargement. Such a mode of thought seemed inadmissible to Wolff, for\nit made use of an hypothesis 'resting on an extra-sensible conception,\nwhich was held to be thinkable, although it could never be demonstrated\nfrom the sense world. Wolff laid it down as a fundamental principle of\nall research that 'nothing may be assumed, admitted or asserted that\nhas not been actually seen and cannot be made similarly visible to\nothers'. Thus in Wolff we meet with a phenomenologist who in his way\ntried to oppose certain trends of contemporary biological thinking. As\nsuch, Wolff had made certain observations which caused him to ascribe\nto the plant features quite similar to those which Goethe had grasped\nunder the conception of progressive and regressive metamorphosis. In\nthis way Wolff had grown convinced that all plant organs are\ntransformed leaves. True to his own principle, he had then turned to\nthe microscope for his eyes to confirm what his mind had already\nrecognized.\n\nThe microscope gave him the confirmation he expected by showing that\nall the different organs of the plant develop out of identical\nembryonic beginnings. In his absolute reliance on physical observation,\nhowever, he tried to go further than this and to detect in this way the\nreason why the plant does not always bring forth the same organ. He saw\nthat the vegetative strength in the plant diminishes in proportion as\nits organism enters upon its later stages. He therefore attributed the\ndifferentiated evolution of plant organs from identical beginnings to\nan ever weaker process of development in them.\n\nDespite his joy in Wolff as someone who in his own fashion had arrived\nat certain truths which he himself had also discovered, and despite his\nagreement with Wolff's phenomenalistic principle, Goethe could in no\nway accept his explanation of why metamorphosis took place in plants.\nHe said: 'In plant metamorphosis Wolff saw how the same organ\ncontinuously draws together, makes itself smaller; he did not see that\nthis contraction alternates with an expansion. He saw that the organ\ndiminishes in volume, but not that at the same time it ennobles itself,\nand so, against reason, he attributed decline to the path towards\nperfection.' What was it, then, which had prevented Wolff from seeing\nthings aright? 'However admirable may be Wolff's method, through which\nhe has achieved so much, the excellent man never thought that there may\nbe a difference between seeing and seeing, that the eyes of the spirit\nhave to work in perpetual living connection with those of the body, for\none otherwise risks seeing and yet seeing past a thing (zu sehen und\ndoch vorbeizusehen).'\n\nWolff's case was to Goethe a symptom of the danger which he saw arising\nfor science from the rapidly increasing use of the microscope (and\nsimilarly the telescope), if thinking was not developed correspondingly\nbut left at the mercy of these instruments. His concern over the state\nof affairs speaks from his utterance: 'Microscopes and telescopes, in\nactual fact, confuse man's innate clarity of mind.'\n\nWhen we follow Goethe in this way he comes before us in characteristic\ncontrast to Robert Hooke. We remember Hooke's microscopic 'proof of the\nunrelatedness of human thought to outer reality (Chapter III). There\ncan be no doubt how Goethe, if the occasion had arisen, would have\ncommented on Hooke's procedure. He would have pointed out that there\nwould be no such thing as a knife with its line-like edge unless man\nwere able to think the concept 'line', nor a needle with its point-like\nend unless he were able to think the concept 'point'. In fact, knife\nand needle are products of a human action which is guided by these two\nconcepts respectively. As such they are embodiments, though more or\nless imperfect ones, of these concepts. Here too, therefore, just as\nGoethe had discovered it through his way of observing the plant, we see\nIdeas with our very eyes. What distinguishes objects of this kind from\norganic entities, such as the plant, is the different relationship\nbetween Object and Idea. Whereas in the case of an organism the Idea\nactively indwells the object, its relationship to a man-made thing (and\nsimilarly to nature's mineral entities) is a purely external one.\n\nHooke, so Goethe would have argued, allowed the microscope to confuse\nhis common sense. He would have seen in him an example confirming his\nverdict that he who fails to let the eye of the spirit work in union\nwith the eye of the body 'risks seeing yet seeing past the thing'.\n\n*\n\n'Thus not through an extraordinary spiritual gift, not through\nmomentary inspiration, unexpected and unique, but through consistent\nwork did I eventually achieve such satisfactory results.' These words\nof Goethe - they occur in his essay, History of my Botanical Studies,\nwhich he wrote in later life as an account of his labours in this field\nof science - show how anxious he was that it should be rightly\nunderstood that the faculty of reading in the Book of Nature, as he\nknew it, was the result of a systematic training of his mind. It is\nimportant for our further studies to make clear to ourselves at this\npoint the nature of the change which man must bring to pass within\nhimself in order to brave Kant's 'adventure of reason'. Goethe's\nconcept for the newly acquired faculty of cognition, exact sensorial\nfantasy, can give us the lead.\n\nWe remember that, to form this faculty, two existing functions of the\nsoul, as such polarically opposite, had to be welded together - memory\nbased on exact sense-perception and the freely working fantasy; one\nconnected with the nervous system of the body, the other with the\nblood. We also know from earlier considerations (Chapter II) that in\nthe little child there is not yet any such polarization, in body or\nsoul, as there is in man's later life. Thus we see that training on\nGoethe's lines aims at nothing less than restoring within oneself a\ncondition which is natural in early childhood.\n\nIn saying this we touch on the very foundations of the new pathway to\nscience discovered by Goethe. We shall hear more of it in the following\nchapter.\n\n1 Critique of Judgment, II, 11, 27. Goethe chose the title of his essay\nso as to refute Kant by its very wording. Kant, through his inquiry\ninto man's Urteilskraft, arrived at the conclusion that man is denied\nthe power of Anschauung (intuition). Against this, Goethe puts his\nAnschauende Urteilskraft.\n\n2 'Der Alte vom K\u00c3\u00b6nigsberge' - a play upon words with the name of Kant's\nnative town, K\u00c3\u00b6nigsberg.\n\n3 It is naturally to be expected that new light will also be thrown on\nthe various realms of knowledge as such dealt with in these pages.\n\n4 Delphinium, in particular, has the peculiarity (which it shares with\na number of other species) that its calyx appears in the guise of a\nflower, whilst the actual flower is quite inconspicuous.\n\n5 Goethe also describes a proliferated pink.\n\n6 The terms 'primeval' or 'primordial' sometimes suggested for\nrendering the prefix 'ur' are unsuitable in a case like this. 'Primeval\nplant', for instance, used by some translators of Goethe, raises the\nmisunderstanding - to which Goethe's concept has anyhow been subject\nfrom the side of scientific botany - that by his ur-plant he had in\nmind some primitive, prehistoric plant, the hypothetical ancestor in\nthe Darwinian sense of the present-day plant kingdom.\n\n7 The following observation is not one made by Goethe himself. It is\npresented here by the author as an example of the heuristic value of\nGoethe's method of pictorial-dynamic contemplation of the sense-world.\n\n8 'Exakte sinnliche Phantasie.'\n\n9 Entdeckung eines trefflichen Vorarbeiters.\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nExcept We Become ...\n\nIn this chapter we shall concern ourselves with a number of\npersonalities from the more or less recent past of the cultural life of\nBritain, each of whom was a spiritual kinsman of Goethe, and so a\nliving illustration of the fact that the true source of knowledge in\nman must be sought, and can be found, outside the limits of his modern\nadult consciousness. Whilst none of them was a match for Goethe as\nregards universality and scientific lucidity, they are all\ncharacteristic of an immediacy of approach to certain essential truths,\nwhich in the sense we mean is not found in Goethe. It enabled them to\nexpress one or the other of these truths in a form that makes them\nsuitable as sign-posts on our own path of exploration. We shall find\nrepeated opportunity in the later pages of this book to remember just\nwhat these men saw and thought.\n\n* *\n *\nThe first is Thomas Reid (1710-96), the Scottish philosopher and\nadvocate of common sense as the root of philosophy.1 After having\nserved for some years as a minister in the Church of Scotland, Reid\nbecame professor of Philosophy at the University of Aberdeen, whence he\nwas called to Glasgow as the successor of Adam Smith. Through his birth\nin Strachan, Kincardine, he belonged to the same part of Scotland from\nwhich Kant's ancestors had come. Two brief remarks of Goethe show that\nhe knew of the Scotsman's philosophy, and that he appreciated his\ninfluence on contemporary philosophers.2\n\nReid, like his contemporary Kant, felt his philosophical conscience\nstirred by Hume's Treatise of Human Nature, and, like Kant, set himself\nthe task of opposing it. Unlike Kant, however, whose philosophic system\nwas designed to arrest man's reason before the abyss into which Hume\nthreatened to cast it, Reid contrives to detect the bridge that leads\nsafely across this abyss. Even though it was not granted to him\nactually to set foot on this bridge (this, in his time, only Goethe\nmanaged to do), he was able to describe it in a manner especially\nhelpful for our own purpose.\n\nThe first of the three books in which Reid set out the results of his\nlabours appeared in 1764 under the title, Inquiry into the Human Mind\non the Principles of Common Sense. The other two, Essays on the\nIntellectual Powers of Man and Essays on the Active Powers of Man,\nappeared twenty years later. In these books Reid had in view a more\nall-embracing purpose than in his first work. The achievement of this\npurpose, however, required a greater spiritual power than was granted\nto him. Comparing his later with his earlier work, Reid's biographer,\nA. Campbell Fraser, says:\n\n'Reid's Essays form, as it were, the inner court of the temple of which\nthe Aberdonian Inquiry is the vestibule. But the vestibule is a more\nfinished work of constructive skill than the inner court, for the aged\narchitect appears at last as if embarrassed by accumulated material.\nThe Essays, greater in bulk, perhaps less deserve a place among modern\nphilosophical classics than the Inquiry, notwithstanding its narrower\nscope, confined as it is to man's perception of the extended world, as\nan object lesson on the method of appeal to common sense.'\n\nWhilst the ideas of Kant, by which he tried in his way to oppose Hume's\nphilosophy, have become within a short space of time the common\npossession of men's minds, it was the fate of Reid's ideas to find\nfavour among only a restricted circle of friends. Moreover, they\nsuffered decisive misunderstanding and distortion through the efforts\nof well-meaning disciples. This was because Kant's work was a late\nfruit of an epoch of human development which had lasted for centuries\nand in his time began to draw to its close, while Reid's work\nrepresents a seed of a new epoch yet to come. Here lies the reason also\nfor his failure to develop his philosophy beyond the achievements\ncontained in his first work. It is on the latter, therefore, that we\nshall chiefly draw for presenting Reid's thoughts.\n\n*\n\nThe convincing nature of Hume's argumentation, together with the\nabsurdity of the conclusions to which it led, aroused in Reid a\nsuspicion that the premises on which Hume's thoughts were built, and\nwhich he, in company with all his predecessors, had assumed quite\nuncritically, contained some fundamental error. For both as a\nChristian, a philosopher, and a man in possession of common sense, Reid\nhad no doubt as to the absurdity and destructiveness of the conclusions\nto which Hume's reasoning had led him.\n\n'For my own satisfaction, I entered into a serious examination of the\nprinciples upon which this sceptical system is built; and was not a\nlittle surprised to find that it leans with its whole weight upon a\nhypothesis, which is ancient indeed, and hath been very generally\nreceived by philosophers, but of which I could find no solid proof. The\nhypothesis I mean is, That nothing is perceived but what is in the mind\nwhich perceives it: That we do not really perceive the things that are\nexternal, but only certain images and pictures of them imprinted upon\nthe mind, which are called impressions and ideas.\n\n'If this be true, supposing certain impressions and ideas to exist\npresently in my mind, I cannot, from their existence, infer the\nexistence of anything else; my impressions and ideas are the only\nexistences of which I can have any knowledge or conception; and they\nare such fleeting and transitory beings, that they can have no\nexistence at all, any longer than I am conscious of them. So that, upon\nthis hypothesis, the whole universe about me, bodies and spirits, sun,\nmoon, stars, and earth, friends and relations, all things without\nexception, which I imagined to have a permanent existence whether I\nthought of them or not vanish at once:\n\n'And, like the baseless fabric of this vision ... Leave not a rack\nbehind.\n\n'I thought it unreasonable, upon the authority of philosophers, to\nadmit a hypothesis which, in my opinion, overturns all philosophy, all\nreligion and virtue, and all common sense: and finding, that all the\nsystems which I was acquainted with, were built upon this hypothesis, I\nresolved to enquire into this subject anew, without regard to any\nhypothesis.'\n\nThe following passage from the first chapter of the Inquiry reveals\nReid as a personality who was not dazzled to the same extent as were\nhis contemporaries by the brilliance of the onlooker-consciousness:\n\n'If it [the mind] is indeed what the Treatise of Human Nature makes it,\nI find I have been only in an enchanted castle, imposed upon by\nspectres and apparitions. I blush inwardly to think how 1 have been\ndeluded; I am ashamed of my frame, and can hardly forbear expostulating\nwith my destiny: Is this thy pastime, O Nature, to put such tricks upon\na silly creature, and then to take off the mask, and show him how he\nhath been befooled? If this is the philosophy of human nature, my soul\nenter thou not into her secrets. It is surely the forbidden tree of\nknowledge; I no sooner taste it, than I perceive myself naked, and\nstript of all things - yea even of my very self. I see myself, and the\nwhole frame of nature, shrink into fleeting ideas, which, like\nEpicurus's atoms, dance about in emptiness.\n\n'But what if these profound disquisitions into the first principles of\nhuman nature, do naturally and necessarily plunge a man into this abyss\nof scepticism? May we not reasonably judge from what hath happened? Des\nCartes no sooner began to dig in this mine, than scepticism was ready\nto break in upon him. He did what he could to shut it out. Malebranche\nand Locke, who dug deeper, found the difficulty of keeping out this\nenemy still to increase; but they laboured honestly in the design. Then\nBerkeley, who carried on the work, despairing of securing all,\nbethought himself of an expedient: By giving up the material world,\nwhich he thought might be spared without loss, and even with advantage,\nhe hoped by an impregnable partition to secure the world of spirits.\nBut, alas! the Treatise of Human Nature wantonly sapped the foundation\nof this partition and drowned all in one universal deluge.' (Chapter I,\nSections vi-vii.)\n\nWhat Reid so pertinently describes here as the 'enchanted castle' is\nnothing else than the human head, which knows of no occurrence beyond\nits boundaries, because it has forgotten that it is only the\nend-product of a living existence outside of, and beyond, itself. We\nsee here that Reid is gifted with the faculty of entering this castle\nwithout forfeiting his memory of the world outside; and so even from\nwithin its walls, he could recognize its true nature. To a high degree\nthis helped him to keep free of those deceptions to which the majority\nof his contemporaries fell victim, and to which so many persons are\nstill subject to-day.\n\nIt is in this way that Reid could make it one of the cardinal\nprinciples of his observations to test all that the head thinks by\nrelating it to the rest of human nature and to allow nothing to stand,\nwhich does not survive this test. In this respect the argument he sets\nover against the Cartesian, 'cogito ergo sum' is characteristic: ' \"I\nam thinking,\" says he, \"therefore I am\": and is it not as good\nreasoning to say, I am sleeping, therefore I am? If a body moves, it\nmust exist, no doubt; but if it is at rest, it must exist likewise.'\n\nThe following summarizes the position to which Reid is led when he\nincludes the whole human being in his philosophical inquiries.\n\nReid admits that, when the consciousness that has become aware of\nitself surveys that which lies within its own horizon, it finds nothing\nelse there but transient pictures. These pictures in themselves bring\nto the mind no experience of a lasting existence outside itself. There\nis no firm evidence of the existence of either an outer material world\nto which these pictures can be related, or of an inner spiritual entity\nwhich is responsible for them. To be able to speak of an existence in\neither realm is impossible for a philosophy which confines its\nattention solely to the mere picture-content of the waking\nconsciousness.\n\nBut man is not only a percipient being; he is also a being of will, and\nas such he comes into a relationship with the world which can be a\nsource of rich experience. If one observes this relationship, one is\nbound to notice that it is based on the self-evident assumption that\none possesses a lasting individuality, whose actions deal with a\nlasting material world. Any other way of behaviour would contradict the\ncommon sense of man; where we meet with it we are faced with a lunatic.\n\nThus philosophy and common sense seem to stand in irreconcilable\nopposition to each other. But this opposition is only apparent. It\nexists so long as philosophy thinks it is able to come to valid\nconclusions without listening to the voice of common sense, believing\nitself to be too exalted to need to do so. Philosophy, then, does not\nrealize 'that it has no other root but the principles of Common Sense;\nit grows out of them, and draws its nourishment from them: severed from\nthis root, its honours wither, its sap is dried up, it dies and rots.'\n(I, 5.)\n\nAt the moment when the philosophical consciousness ceases to regard\nitself as the sole foundation of its existence and recognizes that it\ncan say nothing about itself without considering the source from which\nit has evolved, it attains the possibility of seeing the content of its\nexperience in a new light. For it is no longer satisfied with\nconsidering this content in the completed form in which it presents\nitself. Rather does it feel impelled to investigate the process which\ngives rise to this content as an end-product (the 'impressions' and\n'ideas' of Hume and his predecessors).\n\nReid has faith in the fact - for his common sense assures him of it -\nthat a lasting substantiality lies behind the world of the senses, even\nif for human consciousness it exists only so long as impressions of it\nare received via the bodily senses. Similarly, he has faith in the fact\nthat his consciousness, although existing but intermittently, has as\nits bearer a lasting self. Instead of allowing this intuitively given\nknowledge to be shaken by a mere staring at fugitive pictures, behind\nwhich the real existence of self and world is hidden, he seeks instead\nin both directions for the origin of the pictures and will not rest\nuntil he has found the lasting causes of their transient appearances.\n\nIn one direction Reid finds himself led to the outer boundary of the\nbody, where sense perception has its origin. This prompts him to\ninvestigate the perceptions of the five known senses: smelling,\ntasting, hearing, touching and seeing, which he discusses in this\norder. In the other direction he finds himself led - and here we meet\nwith a special attribute of Reid's whole philosophical outlook - to the\nrealm of human speech. For speech depends upon an inner, intelligent\nhuman activity, which, once learnt, becomes a lasting part of man's\nbeing, quite outside the realm of his philosophizing consciousness, and\nyet forming an indispensable instrument for this consciousness.\n\nThe simplest human reasoning, prompted only by common sense, and the\nsubtlest philosophical thought, both need language for their\nexpression. Through his ability to speak, man lifts himself above an\ninstinctive animal existence, and yet he develops this ability at an\ninfantile stage, when, in so far as concerns the level of his\nconsciousness and his relationship to the world, he hardly rises above\nthe level of the animal. It requires a highly developed intelligence to\nprobe the intricacies of language, yet complicated tongues were spoken\nin human history long before man awoke to his own individual\nintelligence. Just as each man learns to think through speaking, so did\nhumanity as a whole. Thus speech can become a means for acquiring\ninsight into the original form of human intelligence. For in speech the\ncommon sense of man, working unconsciously within him, meets the fully\nawakened philosophical consciousness.3\n\nThe way in which the two paths of observation have here been set out\nmust not give rise to the expectation that they are discussed by Reid\nin a similarly systematic form. For this, Reid lacked the sufficient\ndetachment from his own thoughts. As he presents his observations in\nthe Inquiry they seem to be nothing but a systematic description of the\nfive senses, broken into continually by linguistic considerations of\nthe kind indicated above. So, for example, many of his more important\nstatements about language are found in his chapter on 'Hearing'.\n\nOur task will be to summarize Reid's work, taking from his description,\nso often full of profound observations, only what is essential to\nillustrate his decisive discoveries. This requires that (keeping to Mr.\nEraser's picture) we consider separately the two pillars supporting the\nroof of the temple's forecourt: speech and sense-impressions. We will\nstart with speech.\n\n*\n\nReid notes as a fundamental characteristic of human language that it\nincludes two distinct elements: first, the purely acoustic element,\nrepresented by the sheer succession of sounds, and secondly the variety\nof meanings represented by various groups of sounds, meanings which\nseem to have nothing to do with the sounds as such. This state of\nlanguage, where the sound-value of the word and its value as a sign to\ndenote a thing signified by it, have little or nothing to do with one\nanother, is certainly not the primeval one. In the contemporary state\nof language, which Reid calls artificial language, we must see a\ndevelopment from a former condition, which Reid calls natural language.\nSo long as this latter condition obtained, man expressed in the sound\nitself what he felt impelled to communicate to his fellows. In those\ndays sound was not merely an abstract sign, but a gesture, which\nmoreover was accompanied and supported by the gestures of the limbs.\n\nEven to-day man, at the beginning of his life, still finds himself in\nthat relationship to language which was natural to all men in former\ntimes. The little child acquires the ability to speak through the\nimitation of sounds, becoming aware of them long before it understands\nthe meaning accorded to the various groups of sounds in the artificial\nstate of contemporary adult speech. That the child's attention should\nbe directed solely to the sound, and not to the abstract meaning of the\nindividual words, is indeed the prerequisite of learning to speak. If,\nsays Reid, the child were to understand immediately the conceptual\ncontent of the words it hears, it would never learn to speak at all.\n\nWhen the adult of to-day uses language in its artificial state, words\nare only signs for things signified by them. As he speaks, his\nattention is directed exclusively towards this side of language; the\npure sound of the words he uses remains outside the scope of his\nawareness. The little child, on the other hand, has no understanding of\nthe meaning of words and therefore lives completely in the experience\nof pure sound. In the light of this, Reid comes to the conclusion, so\nimportant for what follows, that with the emergence of a certain form\nof consciousness, in this case that of the intellectual content of\nwords, another form submerges, a form in which the experience of the\npure sound of words prevails. The adult, while in one respect ahead of\nthe child, yet in another is inferior, for the effect of this change is\na definite impoverishment in soul-experience. Reid puts this as\nfollows:\n\n'It is by natural signs chiefly that we give force and energy to\nlanguage; and the less language has of them, it is the less expressive\nand persuasive. ... Artificial signs signify, but they do not express;\nthey speak to the understanding, as algebraic characters may do, but\nthe passions and the affections and the will hear them not: these\ncontinue dormant and inactive, till we speak to them in the language of\nnature, to which they are all attention and obedience.'\n\nWe have followed Reid so far in his study of language, because it is\nalong this way that he came to form the concepts that were to serve him\nas a key for his all-important findings in the realm of\nsense-experience. These are the concepts which bear on the connexion\nbetween the sign and the thing signified; the distinction between the\nartificial and the natural state of language; and the disappearance of\ncertain primeval human capacities for experience, of which Reid says\nthat they are brought by the child into the world, but fade as his\nintellectual capacities develop.\n\n*\n\nAs soon as one begins to study Reid's observations in the realm of\nsense-experience, one meets with a certain difficulty, noticeable\nearlier but not so strikingly. The source of it is that Reid was\nobliged to relate the results of his observations only to the five\nsenses known in his day, whereas in fact his observations embrace a far\ngreater field of human sense-perception. Thus a certain disharmony\ncreeps into his descriptions and makes his statements less convincing,\nespecially for someone who does not penetrate to its real cause.\n\nHowever this may be, it need not concern us here; what matter to us are\nReid's actual observations. For these led him to the important\ndistinction between two factors in our act of acquiring knowledge of\nthe outer world, each of which holds an entirely different place in\nordinary consciousness. Reid distinguishes them as 'sensation' and\n'perception'. It is through the latter that we become aware of the\nobject as such. But we are mistaken if we regard the content of this\nperception as identical with the sum total of the sensations which are\ncaused in our consciousness by the particular object. For these\nsensations are qualitatively something quite different, and, although\nwithout them no perception of the object is possible, they do not by\nthemselves convey a knowledge of the thing perceived. Only, because our\nattention is so predominantly engaged by the object under perception,\nwe pay no heed to the content of our sensation.\n\nTo take an example, the impressions of roundness, angularity,\nsmoothness, roughness, colour, etc., of a table contain, all told,\nnothing that could assure us of the existence of the object 'table' as\nthe real content of an external world. How, then, do we receive the\nconviction of the latter's existence? Reid's answer is, by entering\ninto an immediate intuitive relationship with it. It is true that to\nestablish this relationship we need the stimuli coming from the\nimpressions which our mind receives through the various senses. Yet\nthis must not induce us to confuse the two.\n\nWhen nature speaks to man through his senses, something occurs exactly\nanalogous to the process when man communicates with man through the\nspoken word. In both cases the perception, that is, the result of the\nprocess of perception, is something quite other than the sum of\nsensations underlying it. Per-ceiving by means of the senses is none\nother than a re-ceiving of nature's language; and this language, just\nlike human language, bears two entirely different elements within it.\nAccording as one or the other element prevails in man's intercourse\nwith nature, this intercourse will be either 'natural' or 'artificial'\n- to use the terms by which Reid distinguished the two stages of human\nspeech.\n\nJust as every human being must once have listened only to the pure\nsound of the spoken word on a wholly sentient level in order to acquire\nthe faculty of speaking, so also, in order to learn nature's language,\nthe soul must once have been totally surrendered to the pure\nimpressions of the senses. And just as with time the spoken word\nbecomes a symbol for that which is signified by it, the consciousness\nturning to the latter and neglecting the actual sound-content of the\nword, so also in its intercourse with nature the soul, with its growing\ninterest in the thing signified, turns its attention more and more away\nfrom the actual experiences of the senses.\n\nFrom this it follows that a philosophy which seeks to do justice to\nman's whole being must not be satisfied with examining the given\ncontent of human consciousness, but must strive to observe the actual\nprocess to which this content owes its emergence. In practice this\nmeans that a philosopher who understands his task aright must strive to\nreawaken in himself a mode of experience which is naturally given to\nman in his early childhood. Reid expresses this in the Inquiry in the\nfollowing way:\n\n'When one is learning a language, he attends to the sounds, but when he\nis master of it, he attends only to the sense of what he would express.\nIf this is the case, we must become as little children again, if we\nwill be philosophers: we must overcome habits which have been gathering\nstrength ever since we began to think; habits, the usefulness of which\natones for the difficulty it creates for the philosopher in discovering\nthe first principles of the human mind.'\n\n'We must become as little children again, if we will be philosophers!'\nThe phrase appears here almost in passing, and Reid never came back to\nit again. And yet in it is contained the Open Sesame which gives access\nto the hidden spirit-treasures of the world. In this unawareness of\nReid's of the importance of what he thus had found we must see the\nreason for his incapacity to develop his philosophy beyond its first\nbeginnings. This handicap arose from the fact that in all his thinking\nhe was guided by a picture of the being of man which - as a child of\nhis time, dominated by the contemporary religious outlook - he could\nnever realize distinctly. Yet without a clear conception of this\npicture no justice can be done to Reid's concept of common sense. Our\nnext task, therefore, must be to evoke this picture as clearly as we\ncan\n\n* *\n *\nThe following passage in Reid's Inquiry provides a key for the\nunderstanding of his difficulty in conceiving an adequate picture of\nman's being. In this passage Reid maintains that all art is based on\nman's experience of the natural language of things, and that in every\nhuman being there lives an inborn artist who is more or less crippled\nby man's growing accustomed to the state of artificial language in his\nintercourse with the world. In continuation of the passage quoted on\npage 99 Reid says:\n\n'It were easy to show, that the fine arts of the musician, the painter,\nthe actor, and the orator, so far as they are expressive; although the\nknowledge of them requires in us a delicate taste, a nice judgment, and\nmuch study and practice; yet they are nothing else but the language of\nnature, which we brought into the world with us, but have unlearned by\ndisuse and so find the greatest difficulty in recovering it.\n\n'Abolish the use of articulate sounds and writing among mankind for a\ncentury, and every man would be a painter, an actor, and an orator. We\nmean not to affirm that such an expedient is practicable; or if it\nwere, that the advantage would counterbalance the loss; but that, as\nmen are led by nature and necessity to converse together they will use\nevery means in their power to make themselves understood; and where\nthey cannot do this by artificial signs, they will do it as far as\npossible by natural ones: and he that understands perfectly the use of\nnatural signs, must be the best judge in all expressive arts.'\n\nWhen Reid says that there are certain characteristics - and these just\nof the kind whose development truly ennobles human life - which the\nsoul brings with it into the world, a picture of man is evoked in us in\nwhich the supersensible part of his being appears as an entity whose\nexistence reaches further back than the moment of birth and even the\nfirst beginnings of the body. Now such a conception of man is in no way\nforeign to humanity, in more ancient times it was universally\nprevalent, and it still lives on to-day, if merely traditionally, in\nthe eastern part of the world. It is only in the West that from a\ncertain period it ceased to be held. This was the result of a change\nwhich entered into human memory in historical times, just as the\nre-dawning of the old knowledge of man's pre-existence, of which Reid\nis a symptom, is a result of another corresponding alteration in the\nmemory-powers of man in modern times.\n\nFor men of old it was characteristic that alongside the impressions\nthey received in earthly life through the senses (which in any case\nwere far less intense than they are to-day), they remembered\nexperiences of a purely supersensible kind, which gave them assurance\nthat before the soul was knit together with a physical body it had\nexisted in a cosmic state purely spiritual in nature. The moment in\nhistory when this kind of memory disappeared is that of the transition\nfrom the philosophy of Plato to that of Aristotle. Whereas Plato was\nconvinced by clear knowledge that the soul possesses characteristics\nimplanted in it before conception, Aristotle recognized a bodiless\nstate of the soul only in the life after death. For him the beginning\nof the soul's existence was identical with that of the body.\n\nThe picture of man, taught for the first time by Aristotle, still\nrequired about twice four hundred years - from the fourth pre-Christian\nto the fourth post-Christian century - before it became so far the\ncommon possession of men that the Church Father Augustine (354-430)\ncould base his teaching on it - a teaching which moulded man's outlook\non himself for the coming centuries right up to our own time.\n\nThe following passage from Augustine's Confessions shows clearly how he\nwas compelled to think about the nature of the little child:\n\n'This age, whereof I have no remembrance, which I take on others'\nwords, and guess from other infants that I have passed, true though the\nguess be, I am yet loath to count in this life of mine which I live in\nthis world. For no less than that which I lived in my mother's womb, is\nit hid from me in the shadows of forgetfulness. But if I was shapen in\niniquity and in sin my mother did conceive me, where, I beseech thee, O\nmy God, where, Lord, or when, was I thy servant guiltless? But lo! that\nperiod I pass by; and what have I to do with that of which I can recall\nno vestige?'4\n\nOn the grounds of such experience, Augustine was unable to picture\nman's being in any other way than by seeing him, from the first moment\nof his life, as subject to the condition of the human race which\nresulted from the Fall. Thus he exclaims in his Confessions: 'Before\nThee, O God, no-one is free from sin, not even the child which has\nlived but a single day on the earth.' In so far as there was any\nquestion of the soul's arising from this fallen state, it was deemed\nunable to attain this by any effort of its own, but to depend on the\ngifts of grace which the Church was able to dispense through the\nSacraments.\n\nCompare with this the present-day scientific conception of human\nnature, as it dominates the thought of specialist and layman alike.\nHere man appears, both in body and soul, as a sum of inherited\ncharacteristics, of characteristics, that is to say, which have been\npassed on by way of sexual propagation and gradually emerge into full\nmanifestation as the individual grows up. Apart from this inherited\npredestination the soul is held to present itself, in Locke's classical\nphrase, as a tabula rasa upon which are stamped all manner of external\nimpressions.\n\nThe similarity between this modern picture of man and the earlier\ntheological one is striking. In both cases the central assumption is\nthat human development from child to man consists in the unfolding of\ncertain inherited characteristics which are capable of further specific\nmodification under influences proceeding from outside. The only\ndifference between the two pictures is that in the modern one the\nconcepts of heredity and adaptation have been formed without special\napplication to the ethical characteristics of the soul.\n\nIt is clear that from both Augustine's and the modern scientific\nviewpoint there is no sense in requiring - as Reid did - those who seek\nthe truth about themselves and the world to recover a condition which\nhad been theirs as children. Nor from this point of view is there any\njustification to call on a Common Sense, innate in man, to sit in\njudgment on the philosophical efforts of the adult reason.\n\n*\n\nThat even in the days of Augustine the original conception of human\nnature had not disappeared entirely, is shown by the appearance of\nAugustine's opponent Pelagius, called the 'arch-heretic'. To consider\nhim at this point in our discussion will prove helpful for our\nunderstanding of Reid's historic position in the modern age.\n\nWhat interests us here in Pelagius's doctrine (leaving aside all\nquestions concerning the meaning of the Sacraments, etc.), is the\npicture of man which must have lived in him for him to teach as he did.\n\nLeaving his Irish-Scottish homeland and arriving about the year 400 in\nRome, where on account of the unusual purity of his being he soon came\nto be held in the highest esteem, Pelagius found himself obliged to\ncome out publicly against Augustine, for he felt that Augustine's\nteachings denied all free will to man. In the purely passive surrender\nof man to the will of God, as Augustine taught it, he could not but see\ndanger for the future development of Christian humanity. How radically\nhe diverged from Augustine in his view of man we may see from such of\nhis leading thoughts as follow:\n\n'Each man begins his life in the same condition as Adam.'\n'All good or evil for which in life we are deserving of praise or blame\nis done by ourselves and is not born with us.'\n'Before the personal will of man comes into action there is nothing in\nhim but what God has placed there.'\n'It is therefore left to the free will of man whether he falls into\nsin, as also whether through following Christ he raises himself out of\nit again.'\n\nPelagius could think in this way because he came from a part of Europe\nwhere the older form of human memory, already at that time almost\nextinct in the South, was in some degree still active. For him it was\ntherefore a matter of direct experience that the development of man\nfrom childhood onwards was connected with a diminution of certain\noriginal capacities of the soul. Yet he was so far a child of his age\nas to be no longer capable of seeing whence these capacities\noriginated.\n\nTo provide the necessary corrective to Augustine's doctrine of\ninheritance, Pelagius would have had to be able to see in the first\nyears of life both a beginning of the earthly and a termination of the\npre-earthly existence of the soul. The imperfections of his picture of\nman, however, led him to underestimate, even to deny, the significance\nof heredity and so of original sin in human life. For an age which no\nlonger had any direct experience of the soul's pre-natal life, the\ndoctrines of Augustine were undoubtedly more appropriate than those of\nPelagius; Augustine was in fact the more modern of the two.\n\nAnd now, if we move forward a dozen centuries and compare Thomas Reid\nand Immanuel Kant from this same point of view, we find the same\nconception of man again triumphant. But there is an essential\ndifference: Kant carried all before him because he based himself on an\nage-old view of human nature, whereas Reid, uncomprehended up to our\nown day, pointed to a picture of man only just then dawning on the\nhorizon of the future. Just as through Pelagius there sounded something\nlike a last call to European humanity not to forget the cosmic nature\nof the soul, so through Reid the memory of this nature announced its\nfirst faint renewal. It is common to both that their voices lacked the\nclarity to make themselves heard among the other voices of their times;\nand with both the reason was the same: neither could perceive in\nfullness - the one no longer, the other not yet - the picture of man\nwhich ensouled their ideas.\n\nThe certainty of Reid's philosophical instinct, if such an expression\nbe allowed, and at the same time his tragic limitations, due to an\ninability fully to understand the origin of this instinct, come out\nclearly in the battle he waged against the 'idea' as his immediate\npredecessors understood it. We know that Plato introduced this word\ninto the philosophical language of mankind. In Greek \u00ce\u00b9\u00ce\u00b4\u00ce\u00ad\u00ce\u00b1 (from \u00ce\u00b9\u00ce\u00b4\u00ce\u00b5\u00e1\u00bf\u0091\u00ce\u00bd, to see) means something of\nwhich one knows that it exists, because one sees it. It was therefore\npossible to use the word 'to see' as Plato did, because in his day it\ncovered both sensible and supersensible perception. For Plato, knowing\nconsisted in the soul's raising itself to perceiving the objective,\nworld-forming IDEAS, and this action comprised at the same time a\nrecollection of what the soul had seen while it lived, as an Idea among\nIdeas, before its appearance on earth.\n\nAs long as Plato's philosophy continued to shape their thought, men\nwent on speaking more or less traditionally of Ideas as real\nsupersensible beings. When, however, the Aristotelian mode of thinking\nsuperseded the Platonic, the term 'Idea' ceased to be used in its\noriginal sense; so much so that, when Locke and other modern\nphilosophers resorted to it in order to describe the content of the\nmind, they did so in complete obliviousness of its first significance.\n\nIt is thus that in modern philosophy, and finally in ordinary modern\nusage, 'idea' came to be a word with many meanings. Sometimes it\nsignifies a sense-impression, sometimes a mental representation,\nsometimes the thought, concept or essential nature of a thing. The only\nthing common to these various meanings is an underlying implication\nthat an idea is a purely subjective item in human consciousness,\nwithout any assured correspondence to anything outside.\n\nIt was against this view of the idea that Reid took the field, going so\nfar as to label the philosophy holding it the 'ideal system'. He failed\nto see, however, that in attacking the abstract use of the term he was\nactually in a position to restore to it its original, genuine meaning.\nIf, instead of simply throwing the word overboard, he had been able to\nmake use of it in its real meaning, he would have expressed himself\nwith far greater exactitude and consistency.5 He was prevented from\ndoing this by his apparent ignorance of the earlier Greek philosophers,\nPlato included. All he seems to have known of their teachings came from\ninferior, second-hand reports of a later and already decadent period.\n\n* *\n *\nThere are two historic personalities, both in England, who witness to\nthe fact that the emergence of Reid's philosophy on the stage of\nhistory was by no means an accidental event but that it represents a\nsymptom of a general reappearance of the long-forgotten picture of man,\nin which birth no more than death sets up an absolute limit to human\nexistence. They are Thomas Traherne (1638-74) and William Wordsworth\n(1770-1850).\n\nWordsworth's work and character are so well known that there is no need\nto speak of them here in detail.6 For our purpose we shall pay special\nattention only to his Ode on Intimations of Immortality from\nRecollections of Early Childhood, where he shows himself in possession\nof a memory (at any rate at the time when he wrote the poem) of the\npre-natal origin of the soul, and of a capacity for experiencing, at\ncertain moments, the frontier which the soul crosses at birth.\n\nIf, despite the widespread familiarity of the Ode, we here quote\ncertain passages from it, we do so because, like many similar things,\nit has fallen a victim to the intellectualism of our time in being\nregarded merely as a piece of poetic fantasy. We shall take the poet's\nwords as literally as he himself uttered them. We read:\n\n'Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:\nThe Soul that rises with us, our life's Star,\nHath had elsewhere its setting,\nAnd cometh from afar:\nNot in entire forgetfulness,\nAnd not in utter nakedness,\nBut trailing clouds of glory do we come\nFrom God who is our home:\nHeaven lies about us in our infancy!\n\nShades of the prison house begin to close\nUpon the growing Boy.\nBut he beholds the light, and whence it flows,\nHe sees it in his joy;\nThe Youth, who daily farther from the east\nMust travel, still is Nature's Priest,\nAnd by the vision splendid\nIs on his way attended.\"\n\nAnd later:\n\n'Hence in a season of calm weather\nThough inland far we be,\nOur Souls have sight of that immortal sea\nWhich brought us hither,\nCan in a moment travel thither,\nAnd see the Children sport upon the shore,\nAnd hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.''\n\nThe fact that Wordsworth in his later years gave no further indication\nof such experiences need not prevent us from taking quite literally\nwhat he says here. The truth is that an original faculty faded away\nwith increasing age, somewhat as happened with Reid when he could no\nlonger continue his philosophical work along its original lines.\nWordsworth's Ode is the testament of the childhood forces still\npersisting but already declining within him; it is significant that he\nset it down in about the same year of life (his thirty-sixth) as that\nin which Traherne died and in which Goethe, seeking renewal of his\nbeing, took flight to Italy.7\n\n*\n\nOf Traherne, too, we shall say here only as much as our present\nconsideration and the further aims of this book require. We cannot\nconcern ourselves with the remarkable events which led, half a century\nago, to the discovery and identification of his long-lost writings by\nBertram Dobell. Nor can we deal with the details of the eventful life\nand remarkable spiritual development of this contemporary of the Civil\nWar. These matters are dealt with in Dobell's introduction to his\nedition of Traherne's poems, as also by Gladys I. Wade in her work,\nThomas Traherne. Our gratitude for the labours of these two writers by\nwhich they have provided mankind with the knowledge of the character\nand the work of this unique personality cannot hinder us, however, from\nstating that both were prevented by the premises of their own view of\nthe world from rightly estimating that side of Traherne which is\nimportant for us in this book, and with which we shall specially\nconcern ourselves in the following pages.\n\nLater in this chapter we shall discuss Dobell's philosophical\nmisinterpretation of Traherne, to which he fell victim because he\nmaintained his accustomed spectator standpoint in regard to his object\nof study. Miss Wade has, indeed, been able to pay the right tribute to\nTraherne, the mystic, whose inner (and also outer) biography she was\nable to detect by taking seriously Traherne's indications concerning\nhis mystical development. Her mind, however, was too rigidly focused on\nthis side of Traherne's life - his self-training by an iron inner\ndiscipline and his toilsome ascent from the experience of Nothingness\nto a state of Beatific Vision. This fact, combined with her\ndisinclination to overcome the Augustinian picture of man in herself,\nprevented her from taking Traherne equally seriously where he speaks as\none who is endowed with a never interrupted memory of his primeval\ncosmic consciousness - notwithstanding the fact that Traherne himself\nhas pointed to this side of his nature as the most significant for his\nfellow-men.\n\nOf the two works of Traherne which Dobell rescued from oblivion, on\nboth of which we shall draw for our exposition, one contains his poems,\nthe other his prose writings. The title of the latter is Centuries of\nMeditations. The title page of one of the two manuscripts containing\nthe collection of the poetical writings introduces these as Poems of\nFelicity, Containing Divine Reflections on the Native Objects of an\nInfant-Eye. As regards the title 'Centuries of Meditations' we are\nignorant of the meaning Traherne may have attached to it, and what he\nmeant by calling the four parts of the book, 'First', 'Second', etc.,\nCentury. The book itself represents a manual of devotion for meditative\nstudy by the reader.\n\nLet our first quotation be one from the opening paragraph of the third\n'Century' in which Traherne introduces himself as the bearer of certain\nuncommon powers of memory and, arising from these powers, a particular\nmission as a teacher:\n\n'Those pure and virgin apprehensions I had from the womb, and that\ndivine light wherewith I was born are the best unto this day, wherein I\ncan see the Universe. By the gift of God they attended me into the\nworld, and by His special favour I remember them till now. Verily they\nseem the greatest gifts His wisdom could bestow, for without them all\nother gifts had been dead and vain. They are unattainable by books, and\ntherefore I will teach them by experience.' (Ill, 1.)\n\nThe picture thus remaining with him of his nature of soul in his\nearliest years on earth he describes as follows:\n\n'Certainly Adam in Paradise had not more sweet and curious\napprehensions of the world, than I when I was a child. All appeared\nnew, and strange at first, inexpressibly rare and delightful and\nbeautiful. I was a little stranger, which at my entrance into the world\nwas saluted and surrounded with innumerable joys. My knowledge was\nDivine. I knew by intuition those things which since my Apostacy, I\ncollected again by the highest reason. I was entertained like an Angel\nwith the works of God in their splendour and glory, I saw all in the\npeace of Eden; Heaven and Earth did sing my Creator's praises, and\ncould not make more melody to Adam, than to me. All Time was Eternity,\nand a perpetual Sabbath. Is it not strange, that an infant should be\nthe heir of the whole world, and see those mysteries which the books of\nthe learned never unfold?' (Ill, 1, 2.)\n\nIn a different form the same experience comes to expression in the\nopening lines of Traherne's poem, Wonder:\n\n'How like an Angel came I down!\nHow bright are all things here I\nWhen first among his Works I did appear\nO how their GLORY did me crown!\nThe World resembled his ETERNITIE,\nIn which my Soul did Walk;\nAnd evry Thing that I did see\nDid with me talk.'8\n\nThe picture of man thus sketched by Traherne is as close to Reid's as\nit is remote from Augustine's. This remoteness comes plainly to\nexpression in the way Traherne and Augustine regard the summons of\nChrist to His disciples to become as little children, a summons to\nwhich Reid was led, as we have seen, on purely philosophical grounds.\nLet us first of all recall the words of Christ as recorded by Matthew\nin his 18th and 19th chapters:\n\n'And Jesus called a little child unto him, and set him in the midst of\nthem, and said: Verily I say unto you, except ye be converted, and\nbecome as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of\nHeaven. Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child,\nthe same is the greatest in the kingdom of Heaven.' (xviii, 2-4.)\n\n'Suffer the little children and forbid them not to come unto me: for of\nsuch is the kingdom of Heaven.' (xix, 14.)\n\nAugustine refers to these words when he concludes that examination of\nhis childhood memories which he undertook in order to prove the\ndepravity of the soul from its first day on earth. He says: 'In the\nlittleness of children didst Thou, our king, give us a symbol of\nhumility when Thou didst say: Of such is the kingdom of Heaven.'\n\nIf we glance back from what Augustine says here to the original\npassages in the Gospel just quoted, we see what a remarkable alteration\nhe makes. Of the first passage only the last sentence is taken, and\nthis in Augustine's mind is fused into one with the second passage.\nThereby the admonition of Christ through one's own effort to become as\none once was as a child disappears completely. The whole passage thus\ntakes on a meaning corresponding to that passive attitude to the divine\nwill inculcated by Augustine and opposed by Pelagius, and it is in this\nsense that the words of Christ have sunk into the consciousness of\nWestern Christianity and are usually taken to-day.\n\nWe may see how differently this injunction of Christ lived in\nTraherne's consciousness from the following passage out of his\nCenturies:\n\n'Our Saviour's meaning, when He said, ye must be born again and become\na little child that will enter into the Kingdom of Heaven, is deeper\nfar than is generally believed. It is not only in a careless reliance\nupon Divine Providence, that we are to become little children, or in\nthe feebleness and shortness of our anger and simplicity of our\npassions, but in the peace and purity of all our soul. Which purity\nalso is a deeper thing than is commonly apprehended.' (Ill, 5.)\n\nWith Traherne also the passage in question has been fused together with\nanother utterance of Christ, from John's account of Christ's\nconversation with Nicodemus:\n\n'Verily, verily I say unto you, except a man be born again, he cannot\nsee the Kingdom of God.' (John iii, 3.)\n\nWhat conception of the infant condition of man must have existed in a\nsoul for it to unite these two passages from the Gospels in this way?\nWhereas for Augustine it is because of its small stature and\nhelplessness that the child becomes a symbol for the spiritual\nsmallness and helplessness of man as such, compared with the\noverwhelming power of the divine King, for Traherne it is the child's\nnearness to God which is most present to him, and which must be\nregained by the man who strives for inner perfection.\n\nTraherne could bear in himself such a picture of man's infancy because,\nas he himself emphasizes, he was in possession of an unbroken memory of\nthe experiences which the soul enjoys before it awakens to earthly\nsense-perception. The following passage from the poem, My Spirit, gives\na detailed picture of the early state in which the soul has experiences\nand perceptions quite different from those of its later life. (We may\nrecall Reid's indication of how the child receives the natural language\nof things.)\n\n'An Object, if it were before\nMine Ey, was by Dame Nature's Law\nWithin my Soul: Her Store\nWas all at once within me; all her Treasures\nWere my immediat and internal Pleasures;\nSubstantial Joys, which did inform my Mind.\n\n'... I could not tell\nWhether the Things did there\nThemselvs appear,\nWhich in my Spirit truly seem'd to dwell:\nOr whether my conforming Mind\nWere not ev'n all that therein shin'd.'\n\nFurther detail is added to this picture by the description, given in\nthe poem The Praeparative, of the soul's non-experience of the body at\nthat early stage. The description is unmistakably one of an experience\nduring the time between conception and birth.\n\n'My Body being dead, my Limbs unknown;\nBefore I skill'd to prize\nThose living Stars, mine Eys;\nBefore or Tongue or Cheeks I call'd mine own,\nBefore I knew these Hands were mine,\nOr that my Sinews did my Members join;\nWhen neither Nostril, Foot, nor Ear,\nAs yet could be discerned or did appear;\nI was within\nA House I knew not; newly cloath'd with Skin.\n\nThen was my Soul my only All to me,\nA living endless Ey,\nScarce bounded with the Sky,\nWhose Power, and Act, and Essence was to see;\nI was an inward Sphere of Light,\nOr an interminable Orb of Sight,\nExceeding that which makes the Days,\nA vital Sun that shed abroad its Rays:\nAll Life, all Sense,\nA naked, simple, pure Intelligence.''\n\nIn the stanza following upon this, Traherne makes a statement which is\nof particular importance in the context of our present discussion.\nAfter some additional description of the absence of all bodily needs he\nsays:\n\n'Without disturbance then I did receiv\nThe tru Ideas of all Things'\n\nThe manuscript of this poem shows a small alteration in Traherne's hand\nin the second of these two lines. Where we now read 'true Ideas', there\noriginally stood 'fair Ideas'. 'Fair' described Traherne's experience\nas he immediately remembered it; the later alteration to 'true' shows\nhow well aware he was that his contemporaries might miss what he meant\nby 'Idea', through taking it in the sense that had already become\ncustomary in his time, namely, as a mere product of man's own mental\nactivity.\n\nThis precaution, however, has not saved Traherne from being\nmisinterpreted in our own day in precisely the way he feared - indeed,\nby no less a person than his own discoverer, Dobell. It is the\nsymptomatic character of this misinterpretation which prompts us to\ndeal with it here.\n\n*\n\nIn his attempt to classify the philosophical mode of thought behind\nTraherne's writings, Dobell, to his own amazement, comes to the\nconclusion that Traherne had anticipated Bishop Berkeley (1684-1753).\nThey seemed to him so alike that he does not hesitate to call Traherne\na 'Berkeleyan before Berkeley was born'. In proof of this he refers to\nthe poems, The Praeparative and My Spirit, citing from the latter the\npassage given above (page 112), and drawing special attention to its\ntwo concluding lines. Regarding this he says: 'I am much mistaken if\nthe theory of non-existence of independent matter, which is the essence\nof Berkeley's system, is not to be found in this poem. The thought that\nthe whole exterior universe is not really a thing apart from and\nindependent of man's consciousness of it, but something which exists\nonly as it is perceived, is undeniably found in My Spirit:\n\nThe reader who has followed our exposition in the earlier parts of this\nchapter can be in no doubt that, to find a philosophy similar to\nTraherne's, he must look for it in Reid and not in Berkeley. Reid\nhimself rightly placed Berkeley amongst the representatives of the\n'ideal system' of thought. For Berkeley's philosophy represents an\neffort of the onlooker-consciousness, unable as it was to arrive at\ncertainty regarding the objective existence of a material world outside\nitself, to secure recognition for an objective Self behind the flux of\nmental phenomena. Berkeley hoped to do this by supposing that the\nworld, including God, consists of nothing but 'idea'-creating minds,\noperating like the human mind as man himself perceives it. His world\npicture, based (as is well known) entirely on optical experiences, is\nthe perfect example of a philosophy contrived by the one-eyed,\ncolourblind world-spectator.\n\nWe shall understand what in Traherne's descriptions reminded Dobell of\nBerkeley, if we take into account the connexion of the soul with the\nbody at the time when, according to Traherne, it still enjoys the\nuntroubled perception of the true, the light-filled, Ideas of things.\n\nIn this condition the soul has only a dim and undifferentiated\nawareness of its connexion with a spatially limited body ('I was within\na house I knew not, newly clothed with skin') and it certainly knows\nnothing at all of the body as an instrument, through which the will can\nbe exercised in an earthly-spatial way ('My body being dead, my limbs\nunknown'). Instead of this, the soul experiences itself simply as a\nsupersensible sense-organ and as such united with the far spaces of the\nuniverse ('Before I skilled to prize those living stars, mine eyes. ...\nThen was my soul my only All to me, a living endless eye, scarce\nbounded with the sky').\n\nAt the time when the soul has experiences of the kind described by\nTraherne, it is in a condition in which, as yet, no active contact has\nbeen established between itself and the physical matter of the body and\nthereby with gravity. Hence there is truth in the picture which\nTraherne thus sketches from actual memory. The same cannot be said of\nBerkeley's world-picture. The fact that both resemble each other in\ncertain features need not surprise us, seeing that Berkeley's picture\nis, in its own way, a pure 'eye-picture' of the world. As such,\nhowever, it is an illusion - for it is intended for a state of man for\nwhich it is not suited, namely for adult man going upright on the\nearth, directing his deeds within its material realm, and in this way\nfashioning his own destiny.\n\nIndeed, compared with Berkeley's eye-picture of the world, that of Reid\nis in every respect a 'limb-picture'. For where he seeks for the origin\nof our na\u00c3\u00afve assurance that a real material world exists, there he reverts\n- guided by his common sense - to the experiences available to the soul\nthrough the fact that the limbs of the body meet with the resistant\nmatter of the world. And whenever he turns to the various senses in his\nsearch, it is always the will-activity of the soul within the sense he\nis investigating - and so the limb-nature within it - to which he first\nturns his attention. Because, unlike Berkeley, he takes into account\nthe experiences undergone by the soul when it leaves behind its primal\ncondition, Reid does not fall into illusion, but discovers a\nfundamental truth concerning the nature of the world-picture\nexperienced by man in his adult age. This, in turn, enables him to\ndiscover the nature of man's world picture in early childhood and to\nrecognize the importance of recovering it in later life as a foundation\nfor a true philosophy.\n\nAssuredly, the philosopher who discovered that we must become as little\nchildren again if we would be philosophers, is the one to whom we may\nrelate Traherne, but not Berkeley. And if we wish to speak of Traherne,\nas Dobell tried to do, we speak correctly only if we call him a\n'Reidean before Reid was born'.\n\n* *\n *\nA little more than a hundred years after Thomas Traherne taught his\nfellow-men 'from experience' that there is an original condition of\nman's soul, before it is yet able to prize 'those living stars, mine\neyes', in which it is endowed with the faculty to see 'the true (fair)\nIdeas of all things', Goethe was led to the realization that he had\nachieved the possibility of 'seeing Ideas with the very eyes'. Although\nhe was himself not aware of it, the conception of the Idea was at this\nmoment restored through him to its true and original Platonic\nsignificance.\n\nThe present chapter has shown us how this conception of the Idea is\nbound up with the view that is held of the relationship between human\nnature in early childhood and human nature in later life. We have seen\nthat, when Plato introduced the term Idea as an expression for\nspiritual entities having a real and independent existence, men were\nstill in possession of some recollection of their own pre-earthly\nexistence. We then found Traherne saying from his recollections that in\nthe original form of man's consciousness his soul is endowed with the\nfaculty of seeing 'true' Ideas, and we found Reid on similar grounds\nfighting the significance which the term 'idea' had assumed under his\npredecessors. By their side we see Goethe as one in whom the faculty of\nseeing Ideas appears for the first time in adult man as a result of a\nsystematic training of observation and thought.\n\nIf our view of the interdependence of the Platonic conception of the\nIdea with the picture man has of himself is seen rightly, then Goethe\nmust have been the bearer of such a picture. Our expectation is shown\nto be right by the following two passages from Goethe's autobiography,\nTruth and Fiction.\n\nIn that part of his life story where Goethe concludes the report of the\nfirst period of his childhood (Book II), he writes:\n\n'Who is able to speak worthily of the fullness of childhood? We cannot\nbehold the little creatures which flit about before us otherwise than\nwith delight, nay, with admiration; for they generally promise more\nthan they perform and it seems that nature, among the other roguish\ntricks that she plays us, here also especially designs to make sport of\nus. The first organs she bestows upon children coming into the world,\nare adapted to the nearest immediate condition of the creature, which,\nunassuming and artless, makes use of them in the readiest way for its\npresent purposes. The child, considered in and for itself, with its\nequals, and in relations suited to its powers, seems so intelligent and\nrational, and at the same time so easy, cheerful and clever, that one\ncan hardly wish it further cultivation. If children grew up according\nto early indications, we should have nothing but geniuses.'9\n\nWe find further evidence in Goethe's account of an event in his seventh\nyear, which shows how deeply his soul was filled at that time with the\nknowledge of its kinship with the realm from which nature herself\nreceives its existence. This knowledge led him to approach the 'great\nGod of Nature' through an act of ritual conceived by himself. The boy\ntook a four-sectioned music stand and arranged on it all kinds of\nnatural specimens, minerals and the like, until the whole formed a kind\nof pyramidal altar. On the top of this pyramid he placed some\nfumigating candles, the burning of which was to represent the 'upward\nyearning of the soul for its God'. In order to give nature herself an\nactive part in the ritual, he contrived to kindle the candles by\nfocusing upon them through a magnifying-glass the light of the rising\nsun. Before this symbol of the unity of the soul with the divine in\nnature the boy then paid his devotions.\n\n'Unity of the soul with the divine in nature' - this was what lived\nvividly as a conviction in the seven-year-old boy, impelling him to act\nas 'nature's priest' (Wordsworth). The same impulse, in a metamorphosed\nform, impelled the adult to go out in quest of an understanding of\nnature which, as Traherne put it, was to bring back through highest\nreason what once had been his by way of primeval intuition.\n\n1 The present writer's interest in Reid was first aroused by a remark\nof Rudolf Steiner, in his book A Theory of 'Knowledge according to\nGoethe's World Conception.\n\n2 In a comment on a letter Carlyle had written to him, and in a note\ndealing with the contemporary philosophy in Germany.\n\n3 This observation of Reid's shows that the origin of language is very\ndifferent from what the evolutionists since Darwin have imagined it to\nbe.\n\n4 Confessions, Book I, Chapter 8.\n\n5 As we have seen, the word had better luck with Goethe.\n\n6 Wordsworth, with all his limitations, had a real affinity with Goethe\nin his view of nature. Mr. Norman Lacey gives some indication of this\nin his recent book, Wordsworth's View of Nature.\n\n7 This same period of life played a decisive part in the spiritual\nevolution of Rudolf Steiner, as may be seen in his autobiography, The\nStory of My Life.\n\n8 The difference in spelling between the prose and poetry excerpts\narises from the fact that whereas we can draw on Miss Wade's new\nedition of the poems for Traherne's original spelling, we have as yet\nonly Dobell's edition of the Centuries, in which the spelling is\nmodernized.\n\n9 Oxenford's translation.\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\n'Always Stand by Form'\n\nImmediacy of approach to certain essentials of nature as a result of\ntheir religious or artistic experience of the sense-world, is the\ncharacteristic of two more representatives of British cultural life.\nThey are Luke Howard (1772-1864) and John Ruskin (1819-1900), both true\nreaders in the book of nature. Like those discussed in the previous\nchapter they can be of especial help to us in our attempt to establish\nan up-to-date method of apprehending nature's phenomena through reading\nthem.\n\nAt the same time we shall find ourselves led into another sphere of\nGoethe's scientific work. For we cannot properly discuss Howard without\nrecognizing the importance of his findings for Goethe's meteorological\nstudies or without referring to the personal connexion between the two\nmen arising out of their common interest and similar approach to\nnature. We shall thus come as a matter of course to speak of Goethe's\nthoughts about meteorology, and this again will give opportunity to\nintroduce a leading concept of Goethean science in addition to those\nbrought forward already.\n\nOf Ruskin only so much will appear in the present chapter as is\nnecessary to show him as an exemplary reader in the book of nature. He\nwill then be a more or less permanent companion in our investigations.\n\nThe following words of Ruskin from The Queen of the Air reveal him at\nonce as a true reader in the book of nature:\n\n'Over the entire surface of the earth and its waters, as influenced by\nthe power of the air under solar light, there is developed a series of\nchanging forms, in clouds, plants and animals, all of which have\nreference in their action, or nature, to the human intelligence that\nperceives them.' (II, 89.)\n\nHere Ruskin in an entirely Goethean way points to form in nature as the\nelement in her that speaks to human intelligence - meaning by form, as\nother utterances of his show, all those qualities through which the\nnatural object under observation reveals itself to our senses as a\nwhole.\n\nBy virtue of his pictorial-dynamic way of regarding nature, Ruskin was\nquite clear that the scientists' one-sided seeking after external\nforces and the mathematically calculable interplay between them can\nnever lead to a comprehension of life in nature. For in such a search\nman loses sight of the real signature of life: form as a dynamic\nelement. Accordingly, in his Ethics of the Dust, Ruskin does not answer\nthe question: 'What is Life?' with a scientific explanation, but with\nthe laconic injunction: 'Always stand by Form against Force.' This he\nlater enlarges pictorially in the words: 'Discern the moulding hand of\nthe potter commanding the clay from the merely beating foot as it turns\nthe wheel.' (Lect. X.)\n\nIn thus opposing form and force to each other, Ruskin is actually\nreferring to two kinds of forces. There exist those forces which\nresemble the potter's foot in producing mere numerically regulated\nmovements (so that this part of the potter's activity can be replaced\nby a power-machine), and others, which like the potter's hand, strive\nfor a certain end and so in the process create definite forms. Ruskin\ngoes a step further still in The Queen of the Air, where he speaks of\nselective order as a mark of the spirit:\n\n'It does not merely crystallize indefinite masses, but it gives to\nlimited portions of matter the power of gathering, selectively, other\nelements proper to them, and binding these elements into their own\npeculiar and adopted form. ...\n\n'For the mere force of junction is not spirit, but the power that\ncatches out of chaos, charcoal, water, lime and what not, and fastens\nthem into given form, is properly called \"spirit\"; and we shall not\ndiminish, but strengthen our cognition of this creative energy by\nrecognizing its presence in lower states of matter than our own.' (II,\n59.)1\n\nWhen Ruskin wrote this passage, he could count on a certain measure of\nagreement from his contemporaries that the essence of man himself is\nspirit, though certainly without any very exact notion being implied.\nThis persuaded him to fight on behalf of the spirit, lest its activity\non the lower levels of nature should not be duly acknowledged. To-day,\nwhen the purely physical conception of nature has laid hold of the\nentire man, Ruskin might have given his thought the following turn:\n'... and we shall certainly attain to no real insight into this\ncreative force (of the spirit) at the level of man, unless we win the\ncapacity to recognize its activity in lower states of matter.'\n\nWhat Ruskin is really pointing towards is the very thing for which\nGoethe formed the concept 'type'. And just as Ruskin, like Goethe,\nrecognized the signature of the spirit in the material processes which\nwork towards a goal, so he counted as another such signature what\nGoethe called Steigerung, though certainly without forming such a\nuniversally valid idea of it:\n\n'The Spirit in the plant - that is to say, its power of gathering dead\nmatter out of the wreck round it, and shaping it into its own chosen\nshape - is of course strongest in the moment of flowering, for it then\nnot only gathers, but forms, with the greatest energy.' It is\ncharacteristic of Ruskin's conception of the relationship between man's\nmind and nature that he added: 'And where this life is in it at full\npower, its form becomes invested with aspects that are chiefly\ndelightful to our own senses.' (II, 60.)\n\nObviously, a mind capable of looking at nature in this way could not\naccept such a picture of evolution as was put forward by Ruskin's\ncontemporary, Darwin. So we find Ruskin, in The Queen of the Air,\nopposing the Darwinistic conception of the preservation of the species\nas the driving factor in the life of nature:\n\n'With respect to plants as animals, we are wrong in speaking as if the\nobject of life were only the bequeathing of itself. The flower is the\nend and proper object of the seeds, not the seed of the flower. The\nreason for the seed is that flowers may be, not the reason of flowers\nthat seeds may be. The flower itself is the creature which the spirit\nmakes; only, in connection with its perfectedness, is placed the giving\nbirth to its successor.' (II, 60.)\n\nFor Ruskin the true meaning of life in all its stages lay not in the\nmaintenance of physical continuity from generation to generation, but\nin the ever-renewed, ever more enhanced revelation of the spirit.\n\nHe was never for a moment in doubt regarding the inevitable effect of\nsuch an evolutionary theory as Darwin's on the general social attitude\nof humanity. Men would be led, he realized, to see themselves as the\naccidental products of an animal nature based on the struggle for\nexistence and the preservation of the species. Enough has been said to\nstamp Ruskin as a reader in the book of nature, capable of deciphering\nthe signature of the spirit in the phenomena of the sense-world.\n\n*\n\nOutwardly different from Ruskin's and yet spiritually comparable, is\nthe contribution made by his older contemporary, Luke Howard, to the\nfoundation of a science of nature based on intuition. Whereas Ruskin\nthrows out a multitude of aphoristic utterances about many different\naspects of nature, which will provide us with further starting-points\nfor our own observation and thought, Howard is concerned with a single\nsphere of phenomena, that of cloud formation. On the other hand, his\ncontribution consists of a definite discovery which he himself\nmethodically and consciously achieved, and it is the content of this\ndiscovery, together with the method of research leading to it, which\nwill supply us ever and again with a model for our own procedure. At\nthe same time, as we have indicated, he will help us to become familiar\nwith another side of Goethe, and to widen our knowledge of the basic\nscientific concepts formed by him.\n\nAnyone interested to-day in weather phenomena is acquainted with the\nterms used in cloud classification - Cirrus, Cumulus, Stratus, and\nNimbus. These have come so far into general use that it is not easy to\nrealize that, until Howard's paper, On the Modification of Clouds,\nappeared in 1803, no names for classifying clouds were available.\nSuperficially, it may seem that Howard had done nothing more than\nscience has so often done in grouping and classifying and naming the\ncontents of nature. In fact, however, he did something essentially\ndifferent.\n\nIn the introduction to his essay, Howard describes the motives which\nled him to devote himself to a study of meteorological phenomena:\n\n'It is the frequent observation of the countenance of the sky, and of\nits connexion with the present and ensuing phenomena, that constitutes\nthe ancient and popular meteorology. The want of this branch of\nknowledge renders the prediction of the philosopher (who in attending\nhis instruments may be said to examine the pulse of the atmosphere),\nless generally successful than those of the weather-wise mariners and\nhusbandmen.'\n\nWhen he thus speaks of studying 'the countenance of the sky', Howard is\nnot using a mere form of speech; he is exactly describing his own\nprocedure, as he shows when he proceeds to justify it as a means to\nscientific knowledge. The clouds with their ever-moving, ever-changing\nforms are not, he says, to be regarded as the mere 'sport of the\nwinds', nor is their existence 'the mere result of the condensation of\nvapour in the masses of the atmosphere which they occupy'. What comes\nto view in them is identical, in its own realm, with what the changing\nexpression of the human face reveals of 'a person's state of mind or\nbody'. It would hardly be possible to represent oneself more clearly as\na genuine reader in the book of nature than by such words. What is it\nbut Ruskin's 'Stand by Form against Force' that Howard is here saying\nin his own way?\n\n*\n\nBefore entering into a further description of Howard's system, we must\nmake clear why we disregard the fact that modern meteorology has\ndeveloped the scale of cloud-formation far beyond Howard, and why we\nshall keep to his own fourfold scale.\n\nIt is characteristic of Goethe that, on becoming acquainted with\nHoward's work, he at once gave a warning against subdividing his scale\nwithout limit. Goethe foresaw that the attempt to insert too many\ntransitory forms between Howard's chief types would result only in\nobscuring that view of the essentials which Howard's original\nclassification had opened up. Obviously, for a science based on mere\nonlooking there is no objection to breaking up an established system\ninto ever more subdivisions in order to keep it in line with an\nincreasingly detailed outer observation. This, indeed, modern\nmeteorology has done with Howard's system, with the result that,\nto-day, the total scale is made up of ten different stages of\ncloud-formation.\n\nValuable as this tenfold scale may be for certain practical purposes,\nit must be ignored by one who realizes that through Howard's fourfold\nscale nature herself speaks to man's intuitive judgment. Let us,\ntherefore, turn to Howard's discovery, undisturbed by the extension to\nwhich modern meteorology has subjected it.\n\nLuke Howard, a chemist by profession, knew well how to value the\nresults of scientific knowledge above traditional folk-knowledge. He\nsaw the superiority of scientifically acquired knowledge in the fact\nthat it was universally communicable, whereas folk-wisdom is bound up\nwith the personality of its bearer, his individual observations and his\nmemory of them. Nevertheless, the increasing mathematizing of science,\nincluding his own branch of it, gave him great concern, for he could\nnot regard it as helpful in the true progress of man's understanding of\nnature. Accordingly, he sought for a method of observation in which the\npractice of 'the weatherwise mariner and husbandman' could be raised to\nthe level of scientific procedure. To this end he studied the changing\nphenomena of the sky for many years, until he was able so to read its\nplay of features that it disclosed to him the archetypal forms of\ncloud-formation underlying all change. To these he gave the now\nwell-known names (in Latin, so that they might be internationally\ncomprehensible):\n\nCirrus: Parallel, flexuous or divergent fibres extensible in any and\nall directions.\n\nCumulus: Convex or conical heaps, increasing upwards from a horizontal\nbase.\n\nStratus: A widely extended, continuous, horizontal sheet, increasing\nfrom below.\n\nNimbus: The rain cloud.\n\nLet us, on the background of Howard's brief definitions, try to form a\nmore exact picture of the atmospheric dynamics at work in each of the\nstages he describes.2\n\nAmong the three formations of cirrus, cumulus and stratus, the cumulus\nhas a special place as representing in the most actual sense what is\nmeant by the term 'cloud'. The reason is that both cirrus and stratus\nhave characteristics which in one or the other direction tend away from\nthe pure realm of atmospheric cloud-formation. In the stratus, the\natmospheric vapour is gathered into a horizontal, relatively arched\nlayer around the earth, and so anticipates the actual water covering\nbelow which extends spherically around the earth's centre. Thus the\nstratus arranges itself in a direction which is already conditioned by\nthe earth's field of gravity. In the language of physics, the stratus\nforms an equipotential surface in the gravitational field permeating\nthe earth's atmosphere.\n\nAs the exact opposite of this we have the cirrus. If in the stratus the\nform ceases to consist of distinct particulars, because the entire\ncloud-mass runs together into a single layer, in the cirrus the form\nbegins to vanish before our eyes, because it dissolves into the\nsurrounding atmospheric space. In the cirrus there is present a\ntendency to expand; in the stratus to contract.\n\nBetween the two, the cumulus, even viewed simply as a form-type,\nrepresents an exact mean. In how densely mounded a shape does the\nmajestically towering cumulus appear before us, and yet how buoyantly\nit hovers aloft in the heights! If one ever comes into the midst of a\ncumulus cloud in the mountains, one sees how its myriads of single\nparticles are in ceaseless movement. And yet the whole remains\nstationary, on windless days preserving its form unchanged for hours.\nMore recent meteorological research has established that in many\ncumulus forms the entire mass is in constant rotation, although seen\nfrom outside, it appears as a stable, unvarying shape. Nowhere in\nnature may the supremacy of form over matter be so vividly observed as\nin the cumulus cloud. And the forms of the cumuli themselves tell us in\nmanifold metamorphoses of a state of equilibrium between expansive and\ncontractive tendencies within the atmosphere.\n\nOur description of the three cloud-types of cirrus, cumulus and\nstratus, makes it clear that we have to do with a self-contained\nsymmetrical system of forms, within which the two outer, dynamically\nregarded, represent the extreme tendencies of expansion and\ncontraction, whilst in the middle forms these are held more or less in\nbalance. By adding Howard's nimbus formation to this system, we destroy\nits symmetry. Actually, in the nimbus we have cloud in such a condition\nthat it ceases to be an atmospheric phenomenon in any real sense of the\nword; for it now breaks up into single drops of water, each of which,\nunder the pull of gravity, makes its own independent way to the earth.\n(The symmetry is restored as soon as we realize that the nimbus, as a\nfrontier stage below the stratus, has a counterpart in a corresponding\nfrontier stage above the cirrus. To provide insight into this upper\nfrontier stage, of which neither Howard nor Goethe was at that time in\na position to develop a clear enough conception to deal with it\nscientifically, is one of the aims of this book.)\n\n*\n\nIn order to understand what prompted Goethe to accept, as he did,\nHoward's classification and terminology at first glance, and what\npersuaded him to make himself its eloquent herald, we must note from\nwhat point Goethe's labours for a natural understanding of nature had\noriginated.\n\nIn his History of my Botanical Studies Goethe mentions, besides\nShakespeare and Spinoza, Linnaeus as one who had most influenced his\nown development. Concerning Linnaeus, however, this is to be understood\nin a negative sense. For when Goethe, himself searching for a way of\nbringing the confusing multiplicity of plant phenomena into a\ncomprehensive system, met with the Linnaean system, he was, despite his\nadmiration for the thoroughness and ingenuity of Linnaeus's work,\nrepelled by his method. Thus by way of reaction, his thought was\nbrought into its own creative movement: 'As I sought to take in his\nacute, ingenious analysis, his apt, appropriate, though often arbitrary\nlaws, a cleft was set up in my inner nature: what he sought to hold\nforcibly apart could not but strive for union according to the inmost\nneed of my own being.'\n\nLinnaeus's system agonized Goethe because it demanded from him 'to\nmemorize a ready-made terminology, to hold in readiness a certain\nnumber of nouns and adjectives, so as to be able, whenever any form was\nin question, to employ them in apt and skilful selection, and so to\ngive it its characteristic designation and appropriate position.' Such\na procedure appeared to Goethe as a kind of mosaic, in which one\nready-made piece is set next to another in order to produce out of a\nthousand details the semblance of a picture; and this was 'in a certain\nway repugnant' to him. What Goethe awoke to when he met Linnaeus's\nattempt at systematizing the plant kingdom was the old problem of\nwhether the study of nature should proceed from the parts to the whole\nor from the whole to the parts.\n\nSeeing, therefore, how it became a question for Goethe, at the very\nbeginning of his scientific studies, whether a natural classification\nof nature's phenomena could be achieved, we can understand why he was\nso overjoyed when, towards the end of his life, in a field of\nobservation which had meanwhile caught much of his interest, he met\nwith a classification which showed, down to the single names employed,\nthat it had been read off from reality.\n\n*\n\nThe following is a comprehensive description of Goethe's meteorological\nviews, which he gave a few years before his death in one of his\nconversations with his secretary, Eckermann:\n\n'I compare the earth and her hygrosphere3 to a great living being\nperpetually inhaling and exhaling. If she inhales, she draws the\nhygrosphere to her, so that, coming near her surface, it is condensed\nto clouds and rain. This state I call water-affirmative\n(WasserBejahung). Should it continue for an indefinite period, the\nearth would be drowned. This the earth does not allow, but exhales\nagain, and sends the watery vapours upwards, when they are dissipated\nthrough the whole space of the higher atmosphere. These become so\nrarefied that not only does the sun penetrate them with its brilliancy,\nbut the eternal darkness of infinite space is seen through them as a\nfresh blue. This state of the atmosphere I call water-negative\n(WasserVerneinung). For just as, under the contrary influence, not only\ndoes water come profusely from above, but also the moisture of the\nearth cannot be dried and dissipated - so, on the contrary, in this\nstate not only does no moisture come from above, but the damp of the\nearth itself flies upwards; so that, if this should continue for an\nindefinite period, the earth, even if the sun did not shine, would be\nin danger of drying up.' (llth April 1827.)\n\nGoethe's notes of the results of his meteorological observations show\nhow in them, too, he followed his principle of keeping strictly to the\nphenomenon. His first concern is to bring the recorded measurements of\nweather phenomena into their proper order of significance. To this end\nhe compares measurements of atmospheric temperature and local density\nwith barometric measurements. He finds that the first two, being of a\nmore local and accidental nature, have the value of 'derived'\nphenomena, whereas the variations in the atmosphere revealed by the\nbarometer are the same over wide areas and therefore point to\nfundamental changes in the general conditions of the earth.\nMeasurements made regularly over long periods of time finally lead him\nto recognize in the barometric variations of atmospheric pressure the\nbasic meteorological phenomenon.\n\nIn all this we find Goethe carefully guarding himself against\n'explaining' these atmospheric changes by assuming some kind of purely\nmechanical cause, such as the accumulation of air-masses over a certain\narea or the like. Just as little would he permit himself lightly to\nassume influences of an extra-terrestrial nature, such as those of the\nmoon. Not that he would have had anything against such things, if they\nhad rested on genuine observation. But his own observations, as far as\nhe was able to carry them, told him simply that the atmosphere presses\nwith greater or lesser intensity on the earth in more or less regular\nrhythms. He was not abandoning the phenomenal sphere, however, when he\nsaid that these changes are results of the activity of earthly gravity,\nor when he concluded from this that barometric variations were caused\nby variations in the intensity of the field of terrestrial gravity,\nwhereby the earth sometimes drew the atmosphere to it with a stronger,\nand sometimes with a weaker, pull.\n\nHe was again not departing from the realm of the phenomenal when he\nlooked round for other indications in nature of such an alternation of\ndrawing in and letting forth of air, and found them in the respiratory\nprocesses of animated beings. (To regard the earth as a merely physical\nstructure was impossible for Goethe, for he could have done this only\nby leaving out of account the life visibly bound up with it.)\nAccordingly, barometric measurements became for him the sign of a\nbreathing process carried out by the earth.\n\nAlongside the alternating phases of contraction and expansion within\nthe atmosphere, Goethe placed the fact that atmospheric density\ndecreases with height. Observation of differences in cloud formation at\ndifferent levels, of the boundary of snow formation, etc., led him to\nspeak of different 'atmospheres', or of atmospheric circles or spheres,\nwhich when undisturbed are arranged concentrically round the earth.\nHere also he saw, in space, phases of contraction alternating with\nphases of expansion.\n\n*\n\nAt this point in our discussion it is necessary to introduce another\nleading concept of Goethean nature-observation, which was for him - as\nit will be for us - of particular significance for carrying over the\nGoethean method of research from the organic into the inorganic realm\nof nature. This is the concept of the ur-phenomenon (Urph\u00c3\u00a4nomen). In this\nlatter realm, nature no longer brings forth related phenomena in the\nordering proper to them; hence we are obliged to acquire the capacity\nof penetrating to this ordering by means of our own realistically\ntrained observation and thought.\n\nFrom among the various utterances of Goethe regarding his general\nconception of the ur-phenomenon, we here select a passage from that\npart of the historical section of his Theory of Colour where he\ndiscusses the method of investigation introduced into science by Bacon.\nHe says:\n\n'In the range of phenomena all had equal value in Bacon's eyes. For\nalthough he himself always points out that one should collect the\nparticulars only to select from them and to arrange them, in order\nfinally to attain to Universals, yet too much privilege is granted to\nthe single facts; and before it becomes possible to attain to\nsimplification and conclusion by means of induction (the very way he\nrecommends), life vanishes and forces get exhausted. He who cannot\nrealize that one instance is often worth a thousand, bearing all within\nitself; he who proves unable to comprehend and esteem what we called\nur-phenomena, will never be in a position to advance anything, either\nto his own or to others' joy and profit.'\n\nWhat Goethe says here calls for the following comparison. We can say\nthat nature seen through Bacon's eyes appears as if painted on a\ntwo-dimensional surface, so that all its facts are seen alongside each\nother at exactly the same distance from the observer. Goethe, on the\nother hand, ascribed to the human spirit the power of seeing the\nphenomenal world in all its three-dimensional multiplicity; that is, of\nseeing it in perspective and distinguishing between foreground and\nbackground.4 Things in the foreground he called ur-phenomena. Here the\nidea creatively determining the relevant field of facts comes to its\npurest expression. The sole task of the investigator of nature, he\nconsidered, was to seek for the ur-phenomena and to bring all other\nphenomena into relation with them; and in the fulfilment of this task\nhe saw the means of fully satisfying the human mind's need to theorize.\nHe expressed this in the words, 'Every fact is itself already theory'.\nIn Goethe's meteorological studies we have a lucid example of how he\nsought and found the relevant ur-phenomenon. It is the\nbreathing-process of the earth as shown by the variations of barometric\npressure.\n\n*\n\nOnce again we find Thomas Reid, along his line of intuitively guided\nobservation, coming quite close to Goethe where he deals with the\nquestion of the apprehension of natural law by the human mind. He, too,\nwas an opponent of the method of 'explaining' phenomena by means of\nabstract theories spun out of sheer thinking, and more than once in his\nwritings he inveighs against it in his downright, humorous way.5\n\nHis conviction that human thinking ought to remain within the realm of\ndirectly experienced observation is shown in the following words: 'In\nthe solution of natural phenomena, all the length that the human\nfaculties can carry us is only this, that from particular phenomena, we\nmay, by induction, trace out general phenomena, of which all the\nparticular ones are necessary consequences.'6 As an example of this he\ntakes gravity, leading the reader from one phenomenon to the next\nwithout ever abandoning them, and concluding the journey by saying:\n'The most general phenomena we can reach are what we call laws of\nnature. So that the laws of nature are nothing else but the most\ngeneral facts relating to the operations of nature, which include a\ngreat many particular facts under them.'\n\n*\n\nIt was while on his way with the Grand Duke of Weimar to visit a newly\nerected meteorological observatory that Goethe, in the course of\ninforming his companion of his own meteorological ideas, first heard of\nHoward's writings about the formation of clouds. The Duke had read a\nreport of them in a German scientific periodical, and it seemed to him\nthat Howard's cloud system corresponded with what he now heard of\nGoethe's thoughts about the force relationships working in the\ndifferent atmospheric levels. He had made no mistake. Goethe, who\nimmediately obtained Howard's essay, recognized at first glance in\nHoward's cloud scale the law of atmospheric changes which he himself\nhad discovered. He found here, what he had always missed in the\ncustomary practice of merely tabulating the results of scientific\nmeasurements. And so he took hold of the Howard system with delight,\nfor it 'provided him with a thread which had hitherto been lacking'.\n\nMoreover, in the names which Howard had chosen for designating the\nbasic cloud forms, Goethe saw the dynamic element in each of them\ncoming to immediate expression in human speech.7 He therefore always\nspoke of Howard's system as a 'welcome terminology'.\n\nAll this inspired Goethe to celebrate Howard's personality and his work\nin a number of verses in which he gave a description of these dynamic\nelements and a paraphrase of the names, moulding them together into an\nartistic unity. In a few accompanying verses he honoured Howard as the\nfirst to 'distinguish and suitably name' the clouds.8\n\nThe reason why Goethe laid so much stress on Howard's terminology was\nbecause he was very much aware of the power of names to help or hinder\nmen in their quest for knowledge. He himself usually waited a long time\nbefore deciding on a name for a natural phenomenon or a connexion\nbetween phenomena which he had discovered. The Idea which his spiritual\neye had observed had first to appear so clearly before him that he\ncould clothe it in a thought-form proper to it. Seeing in the act of\nname - giving an essential function of man (we are reminded of what in\nthis respect the biblical story of creation says of Adam),9 Goethe\ncalled man 'the first conversation which Nature conducts with God'.\n\nIt is characteristic of Goethe that he did not content himself with\nknowing the truth which someone had brought forward in a field of\nknowledge in which he himself was interested, but that he felt his\nacquaintance with this truth to be complete only when he also knew\nsomething about the personality of the man himself. So he introduces\nhis account of his endeavours to know more about Howard, the man, with\nthe following words: 'Increasingly convinced that everything occurring\nthrough man should be regarded in an ethical sense, and that moral\nvalue is to be estimated only from a man's way of life, I asked a\nfriend in London to find out if possible something about Howard's life,\nif only the simplest facts.' Goethe was uncertain whether the\nEnglishman was still alive, so his delight and surprise were\nconsiderable when from Howard himself he received an answer in the form\nof a short autobiographical sketch, which fully confirmed his\nexpectations regarding Howard's ethical personality.\n\nHoward's account of himself is known to us, as Goethe included a\ntranslation of it in the collection of his own meteorological studies.\nHoward in a modest yet dignified way describes his Christian faith, his\nguide through all his relationships, whether to other men or to\nnature.10 A man comes before us who, untroubled by the prevailing\nphilosophy of his day, was able to advance to the knowledge of an\nobjective truth in nature, because he had the ability to carry\nreligious experience even into his observation of the sense-world.\n\n*\n\nIn view of all this, it is perhaps not too much to say that in the\nmeeting between Howard and Goethe by way of the spiritual bridge of the\nclouds, something happened that was more than a mere event in the\npersonal history of these two men.\n\n1 These words should be weighed with the fact in mind that they were\nwritten at the time when Crookes was intent on finding the unknown land\nof the spirit by means of just such 'a mere force of junction'.\n\n2 See also Goethe's sketch of the basic cloud forms on Plate IV.\n\n3 Goethe's Dunstkreis - meaning the humidity contained in the air and,\nas such, spherically surrounding the earth. I had to make up the word\n'hygrosphere' (after hygrometer, etc.) to keep clear the distinction\nfrom both atmosphere and hydrosphere. Except for this term in the first\ntwo sentences, the above follows Oxenford's translation (who, following\nthe dictionaries, has rendered Goethe's term inadequately by\n'atmosphere').\n\n4 We may here recall Eddington's statement concerning the restriction\nof scientific observation to 'non-stereoscopic vision'.\n\n5 An example of this is Reid's commentary on existing theories about\nsight as a mere activity of the optic nerve. (Inq., VI, 19.)\n\n6 See Inq., VI, 13. This is precisely what Kant had declared to be\noutside human possibility.\n\n7 Stratus means layer, cumulus - heap, cirrus - curl.\n\n8 There exists no adequate translation of these verses.\n\n9 Genesis ii, 19, 20.\n\n10 A fact which Howard did not mention, and which presumably remained\nunknown to Goethe, was the work he had done as chairman of a relief\ncommittee for the parts of Germany devastated by the Napoleonic wars.\nFor this work Howard received a series of public honours.\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nDynamics versus Kinetics\n\nAt the present time the human mind is in danger of confusing the realm\nof dynamic events, into which modern atomic research has penetrated,\nwith the world of the spirit; that is, the world whence nature is\nendowed with intelligent design, and of which human thinking is an\nexpression in terms of consciousness. If a view of nature as a\nmanifestation of spirit, such as Goethe and kindred minds conceived it,\nis to be of any significance in our time, it must include a conception\nof matter which shows as one of its attributes its capacity to serve\nForm (in the sense in which Ruskin spoke of it in opposition to mere\nForce) as a means of manifestation.\n\nThe present part of this book, comprising Chapters VIII-XI, will be\ndevoted to working out such a conception of matter. An example will\nthereby be given of how Goethe's method of acquiring understanding of\nnatural phenomena through reading the phenomena themselves may be\ncarried beyond his own field of observation. There are, however,\ncertain theoretical obstacles, erected by the onlooker-consciousness,\nwhich require to be removed before we can actually set foot on the new\npath. The present chapter will in particular serve this purpose.\n\n*\n\nScience, since Galileo, has been rooted in the conviction that the\nlogic of mathematics is a means of expressing the behaviour of natural\nevents. The material for the mathematical treatment of sense data is\nobtained through measurement. The actual thing, therefore, in which the\nscientific observer is interested in each case, is the position of some\nkind of pointer. In fact, physical science is essentially, as Professor\nEddington put it, a 'pointer-reading science'. Looking at this fact in\nour way we can say that all pointer instruments which man has\nconstructed ever since the beginning of science, have as their model\nman himself, restricted to colourless, non-stereoscopic observation.\nFor all that is left to him in this condition is to focus points in\nspace and register changes of their positions. Indeed, the perfect\nscientific observer is himself the arch-pointer-instrument.\n\nThe birth of the method of pointer-reading is marked by Galileo's\nconstruction of the first thermometer (actually, a thermoscope). The\nconviction of the applicability of mathematical concepts to the\ndescription of natural events is grounded in his discovery of the\nso-called Parallelogram of Forces. It is with these two innovations\nthat we shall concern ourselves in this chapter.\n\nLet it be said at once that our investigations will lead to the\nunveiling of certain illusions which the spectator-consciousness has\nwoven round these two gifts of Galileo. This does not mean that their\nsignificance as fundamentals of science will be questioned. Nor will\nthe practical uses to which they have been put with so much success be\ncriticized in any way. But there are certain deceptive ideas which\nbecame connected with them, and the result is that to-day, when man is\nin need of finding new epistemological ground under his feet, he is\nentangled in a network of conceptual illusions which prevent him from\nusing his reason with the required freedom.\n\nA special word is necessary at this point regarding the term illusion,\nas it is used here and elsewhere. In respect of this, it will be well\nto remember what was pointed out earlier in connexion with the term\n'tragedy' (Chapter II). In speaking of 'illusion', we neither intend to\ncast any blame on some person or another who took part in weaving the\nillusion, nor to suggest that the emergence of it should be thought of\nas an avoidable calamity. Rather should illusion be thought of as\nsomething which man has been allowed to weave because only by his own\nactive overcoming of it can he fulfil his destiny as the bearer of\ntruth in freedom. Illusion, in the sense used here, belongs to those\nthings in man's existence which are truly to be called tragic. It loses\nthis quality, and assumes a quite different one, only when man, once\nthe time has come for overcoming an illusion, insists on clinging to\nit.\n\nAs our further studies will show, the criticism to be applied here does\nnot only leave the validity of measurement and the mathematical\ntreatment of the data thus obtained fully intact, but by giving them\ntheir appropriate place in a wider conception of nature it opens the\nway to an ever more firmly grounded and, at the same time, enhanced\n\napplication of both.\n\n*\n\nOur primary knowledge of the existence of something we call 'warmth' or\n'heat' is due to a particular sense of warmth which modern research has\nrecognized as a clearly definable sense. Naturally, seen from the\nspectator-standpoint, the experiences of this sense appear to be of\npurely subjective value and therefore useless for obtaining an\nobjective insight into the nature of warmth and its effects in the\nphysical world. In order to learn about these, resort is had to certain\ninstruments which, through the change of the spatial position of a\npoint, allow the onlooker-observer to register changes in the thermal\ncondition of a physical object. An instrument of this kind is the\nthermometer. In the following way an indubitable proof seems to be\ngiven of the correctness of the view concerning the subjectivity of the\nimpressions obtained through the sense of warmth, and of the\nobjectivity of thermometrical measurement. A description of it is\nfrequently given in physical textbooks as an introduction to the\nchapter on Heat.\n\nTo begin with, the well-known fact is cited that if one plunges one's\nhands first into two different bowls, one filled with hot water and the\nother with cold, and then plunges them together into a bowl of tepid\nwater, this will feel cold to the hand coming from the hot water and\nwarm to the hand coming from the cold. Next, it is pointed out that two\nthermometers which are put through the same procedure will register an\nequal degree of temperature for the tepid water. In this way the\nstudent is given a lasting impression of the superiority of the\n'objective' recording of the instrument over the 'subjective' character\nof the experiences mediated by his sense of warmth.\n\nLet us now test this procedure by carrying out the same experiment with\nthe help of thermometrical instruments in their original form, that is,\nthe form in which Galileo first applied them. By doing so we proceed in\na truly Goethean manner, because we divest the experiment of all\naccessories which prevent the phenomenon from appearing in its primary\nform.\n\nTo turn a modern thermometer into a thermoscope we need only remove the\nfigures from its scale. If we make the experiment with two such\nthermoscopes we at once become aware of something which usually escapes\nus, our attention being fixed on the figures recorded by the two\ninstruments. For we now notice that the two instruments, when\ntransferred from the hot and cold water into the tepid water, behave\nquite differently. In one the column will fall, in the other it will\nrise.\n\nIt is important to note that by this treatment of the two instruments\nwe have not changed the way in which they usually indicate temperature.\nFor thermometrical measurement is in actual fact never anything else\nthan a recording of the movement of the indicator from one level to\nanother. We choose merely to take a certain temperature level - that of\nmelting ice or something else - as a fixed point of reference and mark\nit once for all on the instrument. Because we find this mark clearly\ndistinguished on our thermometers, and the scales numbered accordingly,\nwe fail to notice what lies ideally behind this use of the same zero\nfor every new operation we undertake.\n\nWhat the zero signifies becomes clear directly we start to work with\nthermometers not marked with scales. For in order to be used in this\nform as real thermometers, they must be exposed on each occasion first\nof all to some zero level of temperature, say, that of melting ice. If\nwe then take them into the region of temperature we want to measure, we\nshall discern the difference of levels through the corresponding\nmovement of the column. The final position of the column tells us\nnothing in itself. It is always the change from one level to another\nthat the thermometer registers - precisely as does the sense of warmth\nin our hands in the experiment just described.\n\nHence we see that in the ordinary operation with the thermometers, and\nwhen we use our hands in the prescribed manner, we are dealing with the\nzero level in two quite different ways. While in the/two instruments\nthe zero level is the same, in accordance with the whole idea of\nthermometric measurement, we make a special arrangement so as to expose\nour hands to two different levels. So we need not be surprised if these\ntwo ways yield different results. If, after placing two thermometers\nwithout scales in hot and cold water, we were to assign to each its own\nzero in accordance with the respective height of its column, and then\ngraduate them from this reference point, they would necessarily record\ndifferent levels when exposed to the tepid water, in just the same way\nas the hands do. Our two hands, moreover, will receive the same\nsense-impression from the tepid water, if we keep them in it long\nenough.\n\nSeen in this light, the original experiment, designed to show the\nsubjective character of the impressions gained through the sense of\nwarmth, reveals itself as a piece of self-deception by the\nonlooker-consciousness. The truth of the matter is that, in so far as\nthere is any subjective element in the experience and measurement of\nheat, it does not lie on the side of our sense of warmth, but in our\njudgment of the significance of thermometrical readings. In fact, our\ntest of the alleged proof of the absolute superiority of\npointer-readings over the impressions gained by our senses gives us\nproof of the correctness of Goethe's statement, quoted earlier, that\nthe senses do not deceive, but the judgment deceives.\n\nLet it be repeated here that what we have found in this way does not\nlead to any depreciation of the method of pointer-reading. For the\ndirect findings of the senses cannot be compared quantitatively. The\npoint is that the idea of the absolute superiority of physical\nmeasurement as a means of scientific knowledge, in all circumstances,\nmust be abandoned as false.\n\n*\n\nWe now turn to Galileo's discovery known as the theorem of the\nParallelogram of Forces. The illusion which has been woven round this\ntheorem expresses itself in the way it is described as being connected\nideally with another theorem, outwardly similar in character, known as\nthe theorem of the Parallelogram of Movements (or Velocities), by\nstating that the former follows logically from the latter. This\nstatement is to be found in every textbook on physics at the outset of\nthe chapter on dynamics (kinetics), where it serves to establish the\nright to treat the dynamic occurrences in nature in a purely kinematic\nfashion, true to the requirements of the onlooker-consciousness.1\n\nThe following description will show that, directly we free ourselves\nfrom the onlooker-limitations of our consciousness in the way shown by\nGoethe - and, in respect of the present problem, in particular also by\nReid - the ideal relationship between the two theorems is seen to be\nprecisely the opposite to the one expressed in the above statement. The\nreason why we take pains to show this at the present point of our\ndiscussion is that only through replacing the fallacious conception by\nthe correct one, do we open the way for forming a concrete concept of\nForce and thereby for establishing a truly dynamic conception of\nnature.\n\n*\n\nLet us begin by describing briefly the content of the two theorems in\nquestion. In Fig. 1, a diagrammatical representation is given of the\nparallelogram of movements. It sets out to show that when a point moves\nwith a certain velocity in the direction indicated by the arrow a, so\nthat in a certain time it passes from P to A, and when it\nsimultaneously moves with a second velocity in the direction indicated\nby\n\nb, through which alone it would pass to B in the same time, its actual\nmovement is indicated by c, the diagonal in the parallelogram formed by\na and b. An example of the way in which this\n\ntheorem is practically applied is the well-known case of a rower who\nsets out from P in order to cross at right angles a river indicated by\nthe parallel lines. He has to overcome the velocity a of the water of\nthe river flowing to the right by steering obliquely left towards B in\norder to arrive finally at C.\n\nIt is essential to observe that the content of this theorem does not\nneed the confirmation of any outer experience for its discovery, or to\nestablish its truth. Even though the recognition of the fact which it\nexpresses may have first come to men through practical observation, yet\nthe content of this theorem can be discovered and proved by purely\nlogical means. In this respect it resembles any purely geometrical\nstatement such as, that the sum of the angles of a triangle is two\nright angles (180\u00c2\u00b0). Even though this too may have first been learnt\nthrough outer observation, yet it remains true that for the discovery\nof the fact expressed by it - valid for all plane triangles - no outer\nexperience is needed. In both cases we find ourselves in the domain of\npure geometric conceptions (length and direction of straight lines,\nmovement of a point along these), whose reciprocal relationships are\nordered by the laws of pure geometric logic. So in the theorem of the\nParallelogram of Velocities we have a strictly geometrical theorem,\nwhose content is in the narrowest sense kinematic. In fact, it is the\nbasic theorem of kinematics.\n\nWe now turn to the second theorem which speaks of an outwardly similar\nrelationship between forces. As is well nown, this states that two\nforces of different magnitude and direction, when they apply at the\nsame point, act together in the manner of a single force whose\nmagnitude and direction may be represented by the diagonal of a\nparallelogram whose sides express in extent and direction the first two\nforces. Thus in Fig. 2, R exercises upon P the same effect as F1 and F2\ntogether.\n\nExpressed in another way, a force of this magnitude working in the\nreverse direction (R') will establish an equilibrium with the other two\nforces. In technical practice, as is well known, this theorem is used\nfor countless calculations, in both statics and dynamics, and indeed\nmore frequently not in the form given here but in the converse manner,\nwhen a single known force is resolved into two component forces.\n(Distribution of a pressure along frameworks, of air pressure along\nmoving surfaces, etc.)\n\nIt will now be our task to examine the logical link which is believed\nto connect one theorem with the other. This link is found in the\nwell-known definition of physical force as a product of 'mass' and\n'acceleration' - in algebraic symbols F=ma. We will discuss the\nimplications of this definition in more detail later on. Let us first\nsee how it is used as a foundation for the above assertion.\n\nThe conception of 'force' as the product of 'mass' and 'acceleration'\nis based on the fact - easily experienced by anyone who cycles along a\nlevel road - that it is not velocity itself which requires the exertion\nof force, but the change of velocity - that is, acceleration or\nretardation ('negative acceleration' in the sense of mathematical\nphysics); also that in the case of equal accelerations, the force\ndepends upon the mass of the accelerated object. The more massive the\nobject, the greater will be the force necessary for accelerating it.\nThis mass, in turn, reveals itself in the resistance a particular\nobject offers to any change of its state of motion. Where different\naccelerations and the same mass are considered, the factor m in the\nabove formula remains constant, and force and acceleration are directly\nproportional to each other. Thus in the acceleration is discovered a\nmeasure for the magnitude of the force which thereby acts.\n\nNow it is logically evident that the theorem of the parallelogram of\nvelocities is equally valid for movements with constant or variable\nvelocities. Even though it is somewhat more difficult to perceive\nmentally the movement of a point in two different directions with two\ndifferently accelerated motions, and to form an inner conception of the\nresulting movement, we are nevertheless still within a domain which may\nbe fully embraced by thought. Thus accelerated movements and movements\nunder constant velocity can be resolved and combined according to the\nlaw of the parallelogram of movements, a law which is fully attainable\nby means of logical thought.\n\nWith the help of the definition of force as the product of mass and\nacceleration it seems possible, indeed, to derive the parallelogram of\nforces from that of accelerations in a purely logical manner. For it is\nnecessary only to extend all sides of an a parallelogram by means of\nthe same factor m in order to turn it into an F parallelogram. A single\ngeometrical figure on paper can represent both cases, since only the\nscale needs to be altered in order that the same geometrical length\nshould represent at one time the magnitude a and on another occasion\nma. It is in this way that present-day scientific thought keeps itself\nconvinced that the parallelogram of forces follows with logical\nevidence from the parallelogram of accelerations, and that the\ndiscovery of the former is therefore due to a purely mental process.\n\nSince the parallelogram of forces is the prototype of each further\nmathematical representation of physical force-relationships in nature,\nthe conceptual link thus forged between it and the basic theorem of\nkinematics has led to the conviction that the fact that natural events\ncan be expressed in terms of mathematics could be, and actually has\nbeen, discovered through pure logical reasoning, and thus by the\nbrain-bound, day-waking consciousness 'of the world-spectator.\nJustification thereby seemed to be given for the building of a valid\nscientific world-picture, purely kinematic in character.\n\n*\n\nThe line of consideration we shall now have to enter upon for carrying\nout our own examination of what is believed to be the link between the\ntwo theorems may seem to the scientifically trained reader to be of an\nall too elementary kind compared with the complexities of thought in\nwhich he is used to engage in order to settle a scientific problem. It\nis therefore necessary to state here that anyone who wishes to help to\novercome the tangle of modern theoretical science must not be shy in\napplying thoughts and observations of seemingly so simple a nature as\nthose used both here and on other occasions. Some readiness, in fact,\nis required to play where necessary the part of the child in Hans\nAndersen's fairy-story of The Emperor's New Clothes, where all the\npeople are loud in praise of the magnificent robes of the Emperor, who\nis actually passing through the streets with no clothes on at all, and\na single child's voice exclaims the truth that 'the Emperor has nothing\non'. There will repeatedly be occasion to adopt the role of this child\nin the course of our own studies.\n\n*\n\nIn the scientific definition of force given above force appears as the\nresult of a multiplication of two other magnitudes. Now as is well\nknown, it is essential for the operation of multiplication that of the\ntwo factors forming the product at least one should exhibit the\nproperties of a pure number. For two pure numbers may be multiplied\ntogether - e.g. 2 and 4 - and a number of concrete things can be\nmultiplied by a pure number - e. g. 3 apples and the number 4 - but no\nsense can be attached to the multiplication of 3 apples by 4 apples,\nlet alone by 4 pears! The result of multiplication is therefore always\neither itself a pure number, when both factors have this property; or\nwhen one of the two factors is of the nature of a concrete object, the\nresult is of the same quality as the latter. An apple will always\nremain an apple after multiplication, and what distinguishes the final\nproduct (apples) from the original factor (apples) is only a pure\nnumber.\n\nIf we take seriously what this simple consideration tells us of the\nnature of multiplication, and if we do not allow ourselves to deviate\nfrom it for whatever purpose we make use of this algebraic operation,\nthen the various concepts we connect with the basic measurements in\nphysics undergo a considerable change of meaning.\n\nLet us test, in this respect, the well-known formula which, in the\nconceptual language of physics, connects 'distance' (s), 'time' (t),\nand 'velocity' (c). It is written\nc = s / t, or s = ct.\n\nIn this formula, s has most definitely the meaning of a 'thing', for it\nrepresents measured spatial distance. Of the two factors on the other\nside of the second equation, one must needs have the same quality as s:\nthis is c. Thus for the other factor, t, there remains the property of\na pure number. We are, therefore, under an illusion if we assume the\nfactor c to represent anything of what velocity implies in outer cosmic\nreality. The truth is that c represents a spatial distance just as s\ndoes, with the difference only that it is a certain unit-distance. Just\nas little does real time enter into this formula - nor does it into any\nother formula of mathematical physics. 'Time', in physics, is always a\npure number without any cosmic quality. Indeed, how could it be\notherwise for a purely kinematic world-observation?\n\nWe now submit the formula F=ma to the same scrutiny. If we attach to\nthe factor a on the right side of the equation a definite quality,\nnamely an observable acceleration, the other factor in the product is\npermitted to have only the properties of a pure number; F, therefore,\ncan be only of the same nature as a and must itself be an acceleration.\nWere it otherwise, then the equation F=ma could certainly not serve as\na logical link between the Velocity and Force parallelograms.\n\nOur present investigation has done no more than grant us an insight\ninto the process of thought whereby the consciousness limited to a\npurely kinematic experience has deprived the concept of force of any\nreal content. Let us look at the equation F=ma as a means of splitting\nof the magnitude F into two components m and a. The equation then tells\nus that F is reduced to the nature of pure acceleration, for that which\nresides in the force as a factor not observable by kinematic vision has\nbeen split away from it as the factor m. For this factor, however, as\nwe have seen, nothing remains over but the property of a pure number.\n\nLet us note here that the first thinker to concern himself with a\ncomprehensive world-picture in which the non-existence of a real\nconcept of force is taken in earnest-namely, Albert Einstein - was also\nthe first to consider mass as a form of energy and even to predict\ncorrectly, as was proved later, the amount of energy represented by the\nunit of mass, thereby encouraging decisively the new branch of\nexperimental research which has led to the freeing of the so-called\natomic energy. Is it then possible that pure numbers can effect what\ntook place above and within Nagasaki, Hiroshima, etc.? Here we are\nstanding once again before one of the paradoxes of modern science which\nwe have found to play so considerable a part in its development.\n\nTo find an interpretation of the formula F=ma, which is free from\nillusion, we must turn our attention first of all to the concepts\n'force' and 'mass' themselves. The fact that men have these two words\nin their languages shows that the concepts expressed by them must be\nbased on some experience that has been man's long before he was capable\nof any scientific reflexion. Let us ask what kind of experience this is\nand by what part of his being he gathers it.\n\nThe answer is, as simple self-observation will show, that we know of\nthe existence of force through the fact that we ourselves must exert it\nin order to move our own body. Thus it is the resistance of our body\nagainst any alteration of its state of motion, as a result of its being\ncomposed of inert matter, which gives us the experience of force both\nas a possession of our own and as a property of the outer world. All\nother references to force, in places where it cannot be immediately\nexperienced, arise by way of analogy based on the similarity of the\ncontent of our observation to that which springs from the exertion of\nforce in our own bodies.\n\nAs we see, in this experience of force that of mass is at once implied.\nStill, we can strengthen the latter by experimenting with some outer\nphysical object. Take a fairly heavy object in your hand, stretch out\nyour arm lightly and move it slowly up and down, watching intently the\nsensation this operation rouses in you.2 Evidently the experience of\nmass outside ourselves, as with that of our own body, comes to us\nthrough the experience of the force which we ourselves must exert in\norder to overcome some resisting force occasioned by the mass. Already\nthis simple observation - as such made by means of the sense of\nmovement and therefore outside the frontiers of the\nonlooker-consciousness - tells us that mass is nothing but a particular\nmanifestation of force.\n\nSeen in the light of this experience, the equation F=ma requires to be\ninterpreted in a manner quite different from that to which scientific\nlogic has submitted it. For if we have to ascribe to F and m the same\nquality, then the rule of multiplication allows us to ascribe to a\nnothing but the character of a pure number. This implies that there is\nno such thing as acceleration as a self-contained entity, merely\nattached to mass in an external way.\n\nWhat we designate as acceleration, and measure as such, is nothing else\nthan a numerical factor comparing two different conditions of force\nwithin the physical-material world.\n\nOnly when we give the three factors in our equation this meaning, does\nit express some concrete outer reality. At the same time it forbids the\nuse of this equation for a logical derivation of the parallelogram of\nforces from that of pure velocities.\n\n*\n\nThe same method which has enabled us to restore its true meaning to the\nformula connecting mass and force will serve to find the true source of\nman's knowledge of the parallelogram of forces. Accordingly, our\nprocedure will be as follows.\n\nWe shall engage two other persons, together with whom we shall try to\ndiscover by means of our respective experiences of force the law under\nwhich three forces applying at a common point may hold themselves in\nequilibrium. Our first step will consist in grasping each other by the\nhand and in applying various efforts of our wills to draw one another\nin different directions, seeing to it that we do this in such a way\nthat the three joined hands remain undisturbed at the same place. By\nthis means we can get as far as to establish that, when two persons\nmaintain a steady direction and strength of pull, the third must alter\nhis applied force with every change in his own direction in order to\nhold the two others in equilibrium. He will find that in some instances\nhe must increase his pull and in other instances decrease it.\n\nThis, however, is all that can be learnt in this way. No possibility\narises at this stage of our investigation of establishing any exact\nquantitative comparison. For the forces which we have brought forth\n(and this is valid for forces in general, no matter of what kind they\nare) represent pure intensities, outwardly neither visible nor directly\nmeasurable. We can certainly tell whether we are intensifying or\ndiminishing the application of our will, but a numerical comparison\nbetween different exertions of will is not possible.\n\nIn order to make such a comparison, a further step is necessary. We\nmust convey our effort to some pointer-instrument - for instance, a\nspiral spring which will respond to an exerted pressure or pull by a\nchange in its spatial extension. (Principle of the spring balance.) In\nthis way, by making use of a certain property of matter - elasticity -\nthe purely intensive magnitudes of the forces which we exert become\nextensively visible and can be presented geometrically. We shall\ntherefore continue our investigation with the aid of three spring\nbalances, which we hook together at one end while exposing them to the\nthree pulls at the other.\n\nTo mark the results of our repeated pulls of varying intensities and\ndirections, we draw on the floor on which we stand three chalk lines\noutward from the point underneath the common point of the three\ninstruments, each in the direction taken up by one of the three\npersons. Along these lines we mark the extensions corresponding to\nthose of the springs of the instruments.\n\nBy way of this procedure we shall arrive at a sequence of figures such\nas is shown in Fig. 3. This is all we can discover empirically\nregarding the mutual relationships of three forces engaging at a point.\n\nLet us now heed the fact that nothing in this group of figures reveals\nthat in each one of these trios of lines there resides a definite and\nidentical geometrical order; nor do they convey anything that would\nturn our thoughts to the parallelogram of velocities with the effect of\nleading us to expect, by way of analogy, a similar order in these\nfigures. And this result, we note, is quite independent of our\nparticular way of procedure, whether we use, right from the start, a\nmeasuring instrument, or whether we proceed as described above.\n\n*\n\nHaving in this way removed the fallacious idea that the parallelogram\nof forces can, and therefore ever has been, conceived by way of logical\nderivation from the parallelogram of velocities, we must then ask\nourselves what it was, if not any act of logical reason, that led\nGalileo to discover it.\n\nHistory relates that on making the discovery he exclaimed: 'La natura \u00c3\u00a8\nscritta in lingua matematica!' ('Nature is recorded in the language of\nmathematics.') These words reveal his surprise when he realized the\nimplication of his discovery. Still, intuitively he must have known\nthat using geometrical lengths to symbolize the measured magnitudes of\nforces would yield some valid result. Whence came this intuition, as\nwell as the other which led him to recognize from the figures thus\nobtained that in a parallelogram made up of any two of the three lines,\nthe remaining line came in as its diagonal? And, quite apart from the\nparticular event of the discovery, how can we account for the very fact\nthat nature - at least on a certain level of her existence - exhibits\nrules of action expressible in terms of logical principles immanent in\nthe human mind?\n\n*\n\nTo find the answer to these questions we must revert to certain facts\nconnected with man's psycho-physical make-up of which the\nconsiderations of Chapter II have already made us aware.\n\nLet us, therefore, transpose ourselves once more into the condition of\nthe child who is still entirely volition, and thus experiences himself\nas one with the world. Let us consider, from the point of view of this\ncondition, the process of lifting the body into the vertical position\nand the acquisition of the faculty of maintaining it in this position;\nand let us ask what the soul, though with no consciousness of itself,\nexperiences in all this. It is the child's will which wrestles in this\nact with the dynamic structure of external space, and what his will\nexperiences is accompanied by corresponding perceptions through the\nsense of movement and other related bodily senses. In this way the\nparallelogram of forces becomes an inner experience of our organism at\nthe beginning of our earthly life. What we thus carry in the body's\nwill-region in the form of experienced geometry - this, together with\nthe freeing and crystallizing of part of our will-substance into our\nconceptual capacity, is transformed into our faculty of forming\ngeometrical concepts, and among them the concept of the parallelogram\nof movements.\n\nLooked at in this way, the true relationship between the two\nparallelogram-theorems is seen to be the very opposite of the one held\nwith conviction by scientific thinking up to now. Instead of the\nparallelogram of forces following from the parallelogram of movements,\nand the entire science of dynamics from that of kinematics, our very\nfaculty of thinking in kinematic concepts is the evolutionary product\nof our previously acquired intuitive experience of the dynamic order of\nthe world.\n\nIf this is the truth concerning the origin of our knowledge of force\nand its behaviour on the one hand, and our capacity to conceive\nmathematical concepts in a purely ideal way on the other, what is it\nthen that causes man to dwell in such illusion as regards the\nrelationship between the two? From our account it follows that no\nillusion of this kind could arise if we were able to remember\nthroughout life our experiences in early childhood. Now we know from\nour considerations in Chapter VI that in former times man had such a\nmemory. In those times, therefore, he was under no illusion as to the\nreality of force in the world. In the working of outer forces he saw a\nmanifestation of spiritual beings, just as in himself he experienced\nforce as a manifestation of his own spiritual being. We have seen also\nthat this form of memory had to fade away to enable man to find himself\nas a self-conscious personality between birth and death. As such a\npersonality, Galileo was able to think the parallelogram of forces, but\nhe was unable to comprehend the origin of his faculty of mathematical\nthinking, or of his intuitive knowledge of the mathematical behaviour\nof nature in that realm of hers where she sets physical forces into\naction.\n\nDeep below in Galileo's soul there lived, as it does in every human\nbeing, the intuitive knowledge, acquired in early childhood, that part\nof nature's order is recordable in the conceptual language of\nmathematics. In order that this intuition should rise sufficiently far\ninto his conscious mind to guide him, as it did, in his observations,\nthe veil of oblivion which otherwise separates our waking consciousness\nfrom the experiences of earliest childhood must have been momentarily\nlightened. Unaware of all this, Galileo was duly surprised when in the\nonlooker-part of his being the truth of his intuition was confirmed in\na way accessible to it, namely through outer experiment. Yet with the\nveil immediately darkening again the onlooker soon became subject to\nthe illusion that for his recognition of mathematics as a means of\ndescribing nature he was in need of nothing but what was accessible to\nhim on the near side of the veil.\n\nThus it became man's fate in the first phase of science, which fills\nthe period from Galileo and his contemporaries up to the present time,\nthat the very faculty which man needed for creating this science\nprevented him from recognizing its true foundations. Restricted as he\nwas to the building of a purely kinematic world-picture, he had to\npersuade himself that the order of interdependence of the two\nparallelogram-theorems was the opposite of the one which it really is.\n\n*\n\nThe result of the considerations of this chapter is of twofold\nsignificance for our further studies. On the one hand, we have seen\nthat there is a way out of the impasse into which modern scientific\ntheory has got itself as a result of the lack of a justifiable concept\nof force, and that this way is the one shown by Reid and travelled by\nGoethe. 'We must become as little children again, if we will be\nphilosophers', is as true for science as it is for philosophy. On the\nother hand, our investigation of the event which led Galileo to the\ndiscovery that nature is recorded in the language of mathematics, has\nshown us that this discovery would not have been possible unless\nGalileo had in a sense become, albeit unconsciously, a little child\nagain. Thus the event that gave science its first foundations is an\noccurrence in man himself of precisely the same character as the one\nwhich we have learnt to regard as necessary for building science's new\nfoundations. The only difference is that we are trying to turn into a\ndeliberate and consciously handled method something which once in the\npast happened to a man without his noticing it.\n\nNeed we wonder that we are challenged to do so in our day, when mankind\nis several centuries older than it was in the time of Galileo?\n\n1 As to the terms 'kinetic' and 'kinematic', see Chapter II, page 30,\nfootnote.\n\n2 For the sake of our later studies it is essential that the reader\ndoes not content himself with merely following the above description\nmentally, but that he carries out the experiment himself.\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nPro Levitate\n\n(a) ALERTNESS contra INERTNESS\n\nIn the preceding chapter we gained a new insight into the relationship\nbetween mass and force. We have come to see that our concept of force\nis grounded on empirical observation in no less a degree than is\nusually assumed for our concept of number, or size, or position,\nprovided we do not confine ourselves to non-stereoscopic, colourless\nvision for the forming of our scientific world-picture, but allow other\nsenses to contribute to it. As to the concept mass, our discussion of\nthe formula F=ma showed that force and mass, as they occur in it, are\nof identical nature, both having the quality of force. The factors F\nand m signify force in a different relationship to space (represented\nby the factor a). This latter fact now requires some further\nelucidation.\n\nIn a science based on the Goethean method of contemplating the world of\nthe senses, concepts such as 'mass in rest' and 'mass in motion' lack\nany scientific meaning (though for another reason than in the theory of\nRelativity). For in a science of this kind the universe - in the sense\npropounded lately by Professor Whitehead and others - appears as one\nintegrated whole, whose parts must never be considered as independent\nentities unrelated to the whole. Seen thus, there is no mass in the\nuniverse of which one could say with truth that it is ever in a state\nof rest. Nor is there any condition of movement which could be rightly\ncharacterized by the attributes 'uniform' and 'straight line' in the\nsense of Newton's first law. This does not mean that such conditions\nnever occur in our field of observation. But as such they have\nsignificance only in relation to our immediate surroundings as a system\nof reference. Even within such limits these conditions are not of a\nkind that would allow us to consider them as the basis of a scientific\nworld-picture. For as such they occur naturally only as ultimate, never\nas primeval conditions. All masses are originally in a state of\ncurvilinear movement whose rates change continuously. To picture a mass\nas being in a state of rest, or of uniform motion in a straight line,\nas the result of no force acting on it, and to picture it undergoing a\nchange in the rate and direction of its motion as the result of some\nouter force working on it, is a sheer abstraction. In so far as mass\nappears in our field of observation as being in relative rest or motion\nof the kind described, this is always the effect of some secondary\ndynamic cause.\n\nIf we wish to think with the course of the universe and not against it,\nwe must not start our considerations with the state of (relative) rest\nor uniform motion in a straight line and derive our definition of force\nfrom the assumption that there is a primary 'force-free' state which is\naltered under the action of some force, but we must arrange our\ndefinitions in such a way that they end up with this state. Thus\nNewton's first law, for instance, would have to be restated somewhat as\nfollows: No physical body is ever in a state of rest or uniform motion\nin a straight line, unless its natural condition is interfered with by\nthe particular action of some force.\n\nSeen dynamically, and from the aspect of the universe as an\ninterrelated whole, all aggregations of mass are the manifestation of\ncertain dynamic conditions within the universe, and what appears to us\nas a change of the state of motion of such a mass is nothing but a\nchange in the dynamic relationship between this particular aggregation\nand the rest of the world. Let us now see what causes of such a change\noccur within the field of our observation.\n\n*\n\nIn modern textbooks the nature of the cause of physical movement is\nusually defined as follows: 'Any change in the state of movement of a\nportion of matter is the result of the action on it of another portion\nof matter.' This represents a truth if it is taken to describe a\ncertain kind of causation. In the axiomatic form in which it is given\nit is a fallacy. The kind of causation it describes is, indeed, the\nonly one which has been taken into consideration by the scientific mind\nof man. We are wont to call it 'mechanical' causation. Obviously, man's\nonlooker-consciousness is unable to conceive of any other kind of\ncausation. For this consciousness is by its very nature confined to the\ncontemplation of spatially apparent entities which for this reason can\nbe considered only as existing spatially side by side. For the\none-eyed, colour-blind spectator, therefore, any change in the state of\nmovement of a spatially confined entity could be attributed only to the\naction of another such entity outside itself. Such a world-outlook was\nbound to be a mechanistic one.\n\nWe cannot rest content with this state of affairs if we are sincerely\nsearching for an understanding of how spirit moves, forms, and\ntransforms matter. We must learn to admit non-mechanical causes of\nphysical effects, where such causes actually present themselves to our\nobservation. In this respect our own body is again a particularly\ninstructive object of study. For here mechanical and non-mechanical\ncausation can be seen working side by side in closest conjunction. Let\nus therefore ask what happens when we move, say, one of our limbs or a\npart of it.\n\nThe movement of any part of our body is always effected in some way by\nthe movement of the corresponding part of the skeleton. This in turn is\nset in motion by certain lengthenings and contractions of the\nappropriate part of the muscular system. Now the way in which the\nmuscles cause the bones to move falls clearly under the category of\nmechanical causation. Certain portions of matter are caused to move by\nthe movement of adjacent portions of matter. The picture changes when\nwe look for the cause to which the muscles owe their movements. For the\nmotion of the muscles is not the effect of any cause external to them,\nbut is effected by the purely spiritual energy of our volition working\ndirectly into the physical substance of the muscles. What scientific\nmeasuring instruments have been able to register in the form of\nphysical, chemical, electrical, etc., changes of the muscular substance\nis itself an effect of this interaction.\n\nTo mark the fact that this type of causation is clearly distinguished\nfrom the type called mechanical, it will be well to give it a name of\nits own. If we look for a suitable term, the word 'magical' suggests\nitself. The fact that this word has gathered all sorts of doubtful\nassociations must not hinder us from adopting it into the terminology\nof a science which aspires to understand the working of the\nsupersensible in the world of the senses. The falling into disrepute of\nthis word is characteristic of the onlooker-age. The way in which we\nsuggest it should be used is in accord with its true and original\nmeaning, the syllable 'mag' signifying power or might (Sanskrit maha,\nGreek megas, Latin magnus, English might, much, also master).\nHenceforth we shall distinguish between 'mechanical' and 'magical'\ncausation, the latter being a characteristic of the majority of\nhappenings in the human, animal and plant organisms.1\n\n*\n\nOur next step in building up a truly dynamic picture of matter must be\nto try to obtain a direct experience of the condition of matter when it\nis under the sway of magical causation.\n\nLet us first remember what is the outstanding attribute with which\nmatter responds to mechanical causation. This is known to be inertia.\nBy this term we designate the tendency of physical matter to resist any\noutwardly impressed change of its existing state of movement. This\nproperty is closely linked up with another one, weight. The coincidence\nof the two has of late become a puzzle to science, and it was Albert\nEinstein who tried to solve it by establishing his General Theory of\nRelativity. The need to seek such solutions falls away in a science\nwhich extends scientific understanding to conditions of matter in which\nweight and inertia are no longer dominant characteristics. What becomes\nof inertia when matter is subject to magical causation can be brought\nto our immediate experience in the following way. (The reader, even if\nhe is already familiar with this experiment, is again asked to carry it\nout for himself.)\n\nTake a position close to a smooth wall, so that one arm and hand, which\nare left hanging down alongside the body, are pressed over their entire\nlength between body and wall. Try now to move the arm upward, pressing\nit against the wall as if you wanted to shift the latter. Apply all\npossible effort to this attempt, and maintain the effort for about one\nminute. Then step away quickly from the wall by more than the length of\nthe arm, while keeping the arm hanging down by the side of the body in\na state of complete relaxation. Provided all conditions are properly\nfulfilled, the arm will be found rising by itself in accordance with\nthe aim of the earlier effort, until it reaches the horizontal. If the\narm is then lowered again and left to itself, it will at once rise\nagain, though not quite so high as before. This can be repeated several\ntimes until the last vestige of the automatic movement has faded away.\n\nHaving thus ascertained by direct experience that there is a state of\nmatter in which inertia is, to say the least, greatly diminished, we\nfind ourselves in need of giving this state (which is present\nthroughout nature wherever material changes are brought into existence\nmagically) a name of its own, as we did with the two types of\ncausation. A word suggests itself which, apart from expressing\nadequately the peculiar self-mobility which we have just brought to our\nexperience, goes well alongside the word 'inert' by forming a kind of\nrhyme with it. This is the term 'alert'. With its help we shall\nhenceforth distinguish between matter in the inert and alert\nconditions. We shall call the latter state 'alertness', and in order to\nhave on the other side a word as similar as possible in outer form to\nalertness, we suggest replacing the usual term inertia by 'inertness'.\nThus we shall speak of matter as showing the attribute of 'inertness',\nwhen it is subject to mechanical causation, of 'alertness', when it is\nsubject to magical causation.\n\nAnyone who watches attentively the sensation produced by the rising arm\nin the above experiment will be duly impressed by the experience of the\nalertness prevailing in the arm as a result of the will's magical\nintervention.\n\n*\n\nIn our endeavour to find a modern way of overcoming the conception of\nmatter developed and held by science in the age of the\nonlooker-consciousness, we shall be helped by noticing how this\nconception first arose historically. Of momentous significance in this\nrespect is the discovery of the gaseous state of matter by the Flemish\nphysician and experimenter, Joh. Baptist van Helmont (1577-1644). The\nfact that the existence of this state of ponderable matter was quite\nunknown up to such a relatively recent date has been completely\nforgotten to-day. Moreover, it is so remote from current notions that\nanyone who now calls attention to van Helmont's discovery is quite\nlikely to be met with incredulity. As a result, there is no account of\nthe event that puts it in its true setting. In what follows pains are\ntaken to present the facts in the form in which one comes to know them\nthrough van Helmont's own account, given in his Ortus Medicinae.\n\nFor reasons which need not be described here, van Helmont studied with\nparticular interest the various modifications in which carbon is\ncapable of occurring in nature - among them carbon's combustion\nproduct, carbon dioxide. It was his observations of carbon dioxide\nwhich made him aware of a condition of matter whose properties caused\nhim the greatest surprise. For he found it to be, at the same time,\n'much finer than vapour and much denser than air'. It appeared to him\nas a complete 'paradox', because it seemed to unite in itself two\ncontradictory qualities, one appertaining to the realm of 'uncreated\nthings', the other to the realm of 'created things'. Unable to rank it\nwith either 'vapour' or 'air' (we shall see presently what these terms\nmeant in van Helmont's terminology), he found himself in need of a\nspecial word to distinguish this new state from the other known states,\nboth below and above it. Since he could not expect any existing\nlanguage to possess a suitable word, he felt he must create one. He\ntherefore took, and changed slightly, a word signifying a particular\ncosmic condition which seemed to be imaged in the new condition he had\njust discovered. The word was CHAOS. By shortening it a little, he\nderived from it the new word GAS. His own words explaining his choice\nare: 'Halitum ilium GAS vocavi non longe a Chaos veterum secretum.' ('I\nhave called this mist Gas, owing to its resemblance to the Chaos of the\nancients.')2\n\nVan Helmont's account brings us face to face with a number of riddles.\nCertainly, there is nothing strange to us in his describing carbon\ndioxide gas as being 'finer than vapour and denser than air'; but why\ndid he call this a 'paradox'? What prevented him from ranking it side\nby side with air? As to air itself, why should he describe it as\nbelonging to the realm of the 'uncreated things'? What reason was there\nfor giving 'vapour' the rank of a particular condition of matter? And\nlast but not least, what was the ancient conception of Chaos which led\nvan Helmont to choose this name as an archetype for the new word he\nneeded?\n\nTo appreciate van Helmont's astonishment and his further procedure, we\nmust first call to mind the meaning which, in accordance with the\nprevailing tradition, he attached to the term Air. For van Helmont, Air\nwas one of the four 'Elements', EARTH, WATER, AIR, and FIRE. Of these,\nthe first two were held to constitute the realm of the 'created\nthings', the other two that of the 'uncreated things'. A brief study of\nthe old doctrine of the Four Elements is necessary at this point in\norder to understand the meaning of these concepts.\n\n*\n\nThe first systematic teaching about the four elementary constituents of\nnature, as they were experienced by man of old, was given by Empedocles\nin the fifth century B.C. It was elaborated by Aristotle. In this form\nit was handed down and served to guide natural observation through more\nthan a thousand years up to the time of van Helmont. From our earlier\ndescriptions of the changes in man's consciousness it is clear that the\nfour terms, 'earth', 'water', 'air', 'fire', must have meant something\ndifferent in former times. So 'water' did not signify merely the\nphysical substance which modern chemistry defines by the formula H2O;\nnor was 'air' the mixture of gases characteristic of the earth's\natmosphere. Man in those days, on account of his particular\nrelationship with nature, was impressed in the first place by the\nvarious dynamic conditions, four in number, which he found prevailing\nboth in his natural surroundings and in his own organism. With his\nelementary concepts he tried to express, therefore, the four basic\nconditions which he thus experienced. He saw physical substances as\nbeing carried up and down between these conditions.\n\nAt first sight some relationship seems to exist between the concept\n'element' in this older sense and the modern view of the different\nstates of material aggregation, solid, liquid, aeriform. There is,\nhowever, nothing in this modern view that would correspond to the\nelement Fire. For heat in the sense of physical science is an\nimmaterial energy which creates certain conditions in the three\nmaterial states, but from these three to heat there is no transition\ncorresponding to the transitions between themselves. Heat, therefore,\ndoes not rank as a fourth condition by the side of the solid, liquid\nand aeriform states, in the way that Fire ranks in the older conception\nby the side of Earth, Water and Air.\n\nIf we were to use the old terms for designating the three states of\naggregation plus heat, as we know them to-day, we should say that there\nis a border-line dividing Fire from the three lower elements. Such a\nborder-line existed in the older conception of the elements as well.\nOnly its position was seen to be elsewhere - between Earth and Water on\nthe one hand, Air and Fire on the other. This was expressed by saying\nthat the elements below this line constituted the realm of the 'created\nthings', those above it that of the 'uncreated things'. Another way of\nexpressing this was by characterizing Earth and Water with the quality\nCold; Air and Fire with the quality Warm. The two pairs of elements\nwere thus seen as polar opposites of one another.\n\nThe terms 'cold' and 'warm' must also be understood to have expressed\ncertain qualitative experiences in which there was no distinction as\nyet between what is purely physical and what is purely spiritual.\nExpressions such as 'a cold heart', 'a warm heart', to 'show someone\nthe cold shoulder', etc., still witness to this way of experiencing the\ntwo polar qualities, cold and warm. Quite generally we can say that,\nwherever man experienced some process of contraction, whether physical\nor non-physical, he designated it by the term 'cold', and where he\nexperienced expansion, he called it 'warm'. In this sense he felt\ncontractedness to be the predominant characteristic of Earth and Water,\nexpansiveness that of Air and Fire.\n\nWith the help of these qualitative concepts we are now in a position to\ndetermine more clearly still the difference between the older and the\nmodern conceptions: in particular the difference between the aeriform\ncondition of matter, as we conceive of it to-day, and the element Air.\nContractedness manifests as material density, or the specific weight of\na particular substance. We know that this characteristic of matter\ndiminishes gradually with its transition from the solid to the liquid\nand aeriform states. We know also that this last state is characterized\nby a high degree of expansiveness, which is also the outstanding\nproperty of heat. Thus there is reason to describe also from the modern\npoint of view the solid and liquid states as essentially 'cold', and\nthe aeriform state as 'warm'. But aeriform matter still has density and\nweight, and this means that matter in this state combines the two\nopposing qualities. Contrary to this, Air, as the second highest\nelement in the old sense, is characterized by the pure quality, warm.\nThus, when man of old spoke of 'air', he had in mind something entirely\nfree from material density and weight.3\n\nBy comparing in this way the older and newer conceptions of 'air', we\ncome to realize that ancient man must have had a conception of gravity\nessentially different from ours. If we take gravity in the modern\nscientist's sense, as a 'descriptive law of behaviour', then this\nbehaviour is designated in the older doctrine by the quality 'cold'.\nIf, however, we look within the system of modern science for a law of\nbehaviour that would correspond to the quality 'warm', we do so in\nvain. Polarity concepts are certainly not foreign to the scientific\nmind, as the physics of electricity and magnetism show. Yet there is no\nopposite pole to gravity, as there is negative opposite to positive\nelectricity, etc.4\n\nIn the older conception, however, the gravitational behaviour 'cold'\nwas seen to be counteracted by an autonomous anti-gravitational\nbehaviour 'warm'. Experience still supported the conviction that as a\npolar opposite to the world subject to gravity, there was another world\nsubject to levity.\n\nWe refrain at this point from discussing how far a science which\naspires to a spiritual understanding of nature, including material\nprocesses, needs a revival - in modern form - of the old conception of\nlevity. In our present context it suffices to realize that we\nunderstand man's earlier view of nature, and with it the one still held\nby van Helmont, only by admitting levity equally with gravity into his\nworld-picture. For the four elements, in particular, this meant that\nthe two upper ones were regarded as representing Levity, the two lower\nones Gravity.\n\nIn close connexion with this polar conception of the two pairs of\nelements, there stands their differentiation into one realm of created,\nanother of uncreated, things. To understand what these terms imply, we\nmust turn to the ancient concept, Chaos, borrowed by van Helmont.\n\nTo-day we take the word Chaos to mean a condition of mere absence of\norder, mostly resulting from a destruction of existing forms, whether\nby nature or by the action of man. In its original sense the word meant\nthe exact opposite. When in ancient times people spoke of Chaos, they\nmeant the womb of all being, the exalted realm of uncreated things,\nwhere indeed forms such as are evident to the eye in the created world\nare not to be found, but in place of them are the archetypes of all\nvisible forms, as though nurtured in a spiritual seed-condition. It is\nthe state which in the biblical narration of the creation of the world\nis described as 'without form and void'.\n\nFrom this Chaos all the four elements are born, one by one, with the\ntwo upper ones retaining Chaos's essential characteristic in that they\nare 'without form' and tend to be omnipresent, whilst the two lower\nones constitute a realm in which things appear in more or less clearly\noutlined space-bound forms. This is what the terms 'uncreated' and\n'created' imply.\n\nHow strictly these two realms were distinguished can be seen by the\noccurrence of the concept 'vapour'. When with the increasing interest\nin the realm of created things - characteristic of the\nspectator-consciousness which, in view of our earlier description of\nit, we recognize as being itself a 'created thing' - the need arose for\nprogressive differentiation within this realm, the simple division of\nit into 'earth' and 'water' was no longer felt to be satisfactory.\nAfter all, above the liquid state of matter there was another state,\nless dense than water and yet presenting itself through more or less\nclearly distinguishable space-bound objects, such as the mists arising\nfrom and spreading over ponds and meadows, and the clouds hovering in\nthe sky. For this state of matter the term 'vapour' had become\ncustomary, and it was used by van Helmont in this sense. By its very\nproperties, Vapour belonged to the realm of the created things, whereas\nAir did not. It was the intermediary position of the newly discovered\nstate of matter between Vapour and Air, that is, between the created\nand the uncreated world, which caused van Helmont to call it a paradox;\nand it was its strange resemblance, despite its ponderable nature, to\nChaos, which prompted him to name it - Gas.\n\n*\n\nSince it could not have been the gaseous state of matter in the form\ndiscovered by van Helmont, what particular condition of nature was it\nto which the ancients pointed when using the term Air? Let us see how\nthe scriptures of past human cultures speak of air.\n\nIn all older languages, the words used to designate the element bound\nup with breathing, or the act of breathing, served at the same time to\nexpress the relationship of man to the Divine, or even the Divine\nitself. One need think only of the words Brahma and Atma of the ancient\nIndians, the Pneuma of the Greeks, the Spiritus of the Romans. The\nHebrews expressed the same idea when they said that Jehovah had\nbreathed the breath of life into man and that man in this way became a\nliving soul.\n\nWhat lies behind all these words is the feeling familiar to man in\nthose times, that breathing was not only a means of keeping the body\nalive, but that a spiritual essence streamed in with the breath. So\nlong as this condition prevailed, people could expect that by changing\ntheir manner of breathing they had a means of bringing the soul into\nstronger relationship with spiritual Powers, as is attempted in Eastern\nYoga.\n\nRemembering the picture of man's spiritual-physical evolution which we\nhave gained from earlier chapters, we are not astonished to find how\ndifferent this early experience of the breathing process was from our\nown. Yet, together with the recognition of this difference there arises\nanother question. Even if we admit that man of old was so organized\nthat the experience of his own breathing process was an overwhelmingly\nspiritual one, it was, after all, the gaseous substance of the earth's\natmosphere which he inhaled, and exhaled again in a transformed\ncondition. What then was it that prevented men - apparently right up to\nthe time of van Helmont - from gaining the slightest inkling of the\nmateriality of this substance? To find an answer to this question, let\nus resort once more to our method of observing things genetically,\ncombined with the principle of not considering parts without\nconsidering the whole to which they organically belong.\n\nIn modern science the earth is regarded as a mineral body whereon the\nmanifold forms of nature appear as mere additions, arising more or less\nby chance; one can very well imagine them absent without this having\nany essential influence on the earth's status in the universe. The\ntruth is quite different. For the earth, with everything that exists on\nit, forms a single whole, just as each separate organism is in its own\nway a whole.\n\nThis shows that we have no right to imagine the earth without men, and\nto suppose that its cosmic conditions of being would then remain\nunaltered - any more than we can imagine a human being deprived of some\nessential-organ and remaining human. Mankind, and all the other\nkingdoms of nature, are bound up organically with the earth from the\nstart of its existence. Moreover, just as the highest plants, seen with\nGoethe's eyes, are the spiritual originators of the whole realm of\nplants - the creative Idea determining their evolution - so we see man,\nthe highest product of earth evolution, standing behind this evolution\nas its Idea from the first, and determining its course. The\nevolutionary changes which we observe in the earth and in man are in\nfact a single process, working through a variety of manifested forms.\n\nFrom this conception of the parallel evolution of earth and man light\nfalls also on the historic event represented by van Helmont's\ndiscovery. Besides being a symptom of a revolution in man's way of\nexperiencing the atmosphere, it speaks to us of some corresponding\nchange in the spiritual-physical condition of the atmosphere itself. It\nwas then that men not only came to think differently about air, but\ninhaled and exhaled an air that actually was different. To find out\nwhat kind of change this was, let us turn once more to man's own\norganism and see what it has to say concerning the condition under\nwhich matter is capable of being influenced by mechanical and magical\ncausation respectively, in the sense already described.\n\nWhat is it in the nature of the bones that makes them accessible to\nmechanical causation only, and what is it in the muscles that allows\nour will to rouse them magically? Bones and muscles stand in a definite\ngenetic relationship to each other, the bones being, in relation to the\nmuscles, a late product of organic development. This holds good equally\nfor everything which in the body of living nature takes the form of\nmineralized deposits or coverings. Every kind of organism consists in\nits early stages entirely of living substance; in the course of time a\npart of the organism separates off\" and passes over into a more or less\nmineralized condition. Seen in this light, the distinction between\nbones and muscles is that the bones have evolved out of a condition in\nwhich the muscles persist, though to a gradually waning degree,\nthroughout the life-time of the body. The substance of the muscles,\nremaining more or less 'young', stands at the opposite pole from the\n'aged' substance of the bones. Hence it depends on the 'age' of a piece\nof matter whether it responds to magical or mechanical causation.\n\nLet us state here at once, that this temporal distinction has an\nessential bearing on our understanding of evolutionary processes in\ngeneral. For if mineral matter is a late product of evolution - and\nnothing in nature indicates the contrary - then to explain the origins\nof the world (as scientific theories have always done) with the aid of\nevents similar in character to those which now occur in the mineral\nrealm, means explaining them against nature's own evidence. To find\npictures of past conditions of the earth in present-day nature, we must\nlook in the regions where matter, because it is still 'youthful', is\nplayed through by the magical working of purposefully active spiritual\nforces. Thus, instead of seeing in them the chance results of blind\nvolcanic and similar forces, we must recognize in the formation and\nlayout of land and sea an outcome of events more closely resembling\nthose which occur during the embryonic development of a living\norganism.\n\nWhat, then, does van Helmont's discovery of the gaseous state of matter\ntell us, if we regard it in the light of our newly acquired insight\ninto the trend of evolution both within and without man? When, in the\ncourse of its growing older, mankind had reached the stage which is\nexpressed by the emergence of the\nspectator-consciousness-consciousness, that is, based on a nervous\nsystem which has grown more or less independent of the life forces of\nthe organism - the outer elements had, in their way, arrived at such a\nstate that man began to inhale an air whose spiritual-physical\nconstitution corresponded exactly to that of his nervous system: on\neither side, Spirit and Matter, in accordance with the necessities of\ncosmic evolution had lost their primeval union.\n\n*\n\nOur extension of the concept of evolution to the very elements of\nnature, whether these are of material or non-material kind, and our\nrecognition of this evolution as leading in general from a more alert\nto a more inert condition, at once open the possibility of including in\nour scientific world-picture certain facts which have hitherto resisted\nany inclusion. We mean those manifold events of 'miraculous' nature, of\nwhich the scriptures and the oral traditions of old are full. What is\nmodern man to make of them?\n\nThe doubts which have arisen concerning events of this kind have their\nroots on the one hand in the apparent absence of such occurrences in\nour day, on the other in the fact that the laws of nature derived by\nscience from the present condition of the world seem to rule them out.5\nIn the light of the concept of the world's 'ageing' which we have tried\nto develop here, not only do the relevant reports become plausible, but\nit also becomes understandable why, if such events have taken place in\nthe past, they fail to do so in our own time.\n\nTo illustrate this, let us take a few instances which are symptomatic\nof the higher degree of youthfulness which was characteristic in former\ntimes in particular of the element of Fire.\n\nThe role which Fire was capable of playing in man's life at a time when\neven this element, in itself the most youthful of all, was more\nsusceptible to magic interference than of late, is shown by the\nmanifold fire-rites of old. In those days, when no easy means of\nfire-lighting were available, it was usual for the needs of daily life\nto keen a fire burning all the time and to kindle other fires from it.\nOnly in cases of necessity was a new fire lit, and then the only way\nwas by the tedious rubbing together of two pieces of dry wood.\n\nThen both the maintenance of fires, and the deliberate kindling of a\nnew fire, played quite a special role in the ceremonial ordering of\nhuman society. Historically, much the best known is the Roman usage in\nthe Temple of Vesta. On the one hand, the unintentional extinction of\nthe fire was regarded as a national calamity and as the gravest\npossible transgression on the part of the consecrated priestess charged\nwith maintaining the fire. On the other hand, it was thought essential\nfor this 'everlasting' fire to be newly kindled once a year. This took\nplace with a special ritual at the beginning of the Roman year (1st\nMarch).\n\nThe conception behind such a ritual of fire-kindling will become clear\nif we compare with it certain other fire-rites which were practised in\nthe northern parts of Europe, especially in the British Isles, until\nfar on in the Christian era. For example, if sickness broke out among\nthe cattle, a widespread practice was to extinguish all the\nhearth-fires in the district and then to kindle with certain rites a\nnew fire, from which all the local people lit their own fires once\nmore. Heavy penalties were prescribed for anyone who failed to\nextinguish his own fire - a failure usually indicated by the\nnon-manifestation of the expected healing influence. In Anglo-Saxon\nspeaking countries, fires of this kind were known as 'needfires'.\n\nThe spiritual significance of these fires cannot be expressed better\nthan by the meaning of the very term 'needfire'. This word does not\nderive, as was formerly believed, from the word 'need', meaning a 'fire\nkindled in a state of need', but, as recent etymological research has\nshown, from a root which appears in the German word nieten - to clinch\nor rivet. 'Needfire' therefore means nothing less than a fire which was\nkindled for 'clinching' anew the bond between earthly life and the\nprimal spiritual order at times when for one reason or another there\nwas a call for this.\n\nThis explanation of the 'needfire' throws light also on the Roman\ncustom of re-kindling annually the sacred fire in the Temple of Vesta.\nFor the Romans this was a means of reaffirming year by year the\nconnexion of the nation with its spiritual leadership; accordingly,\nthey chose the time when the sun in its yearly course restores -\n're-clinches' - the union of the world-spirit with earthly nature, for\nthe rebirth of the fire which throughout the rest of the year was\ncarefully guarded against extinction.\n\nJust as men saw in this fire-kindling a way of bringing humanity into\nactive relation with spiritual powers, so on the other hand were these\npowers held to use the fire element in outer nature for the purpose of\nmaking themselves actively known to mankind. Hence we find in the\nrecords of all ancient peoples a unanimous recognition of lightning and\nthunder on the one hand, and volcanic phenomena on the other, as means\nto which the Deity resorts for intervening in human destiny. A\nwell-known example is the account in the Bible of the meeting of Moses\nwith God on Mount Sinai. As occurrence in the early history of the\nHebrews it gives evidence that even in historical times the fire\nelement of the earth was sufficiently 'young' to serve the higher\nspiritual powers as an instrument for the direct expression of their\nwill.\n\n* *\n *\n(b) LEVITY contra GRAVITY\n\nWe said earlier in this chapter that a science which aspires to a\nspiritual understanding of the physical happenings in nature must give\nup the idea that inertness and weight are absolute properties of\nmatter. We were able at once to tackle the question of inertness by\nbringing to our immediate observation matter in the state of diminished\ninertness, or, as we proposed to say, of alertness. We are now in a\nposition to go into the other question, that of weight or gravity. Just\nas we found inertness to have its counterpart in alertness, both being\nexisting conditions of matter, so we shall now find in addition to the\nforce of gravity another force which is the exact opposite of it, and\nto which therefore we can give no better name than 'levity'.\n\n*\n\nAlready, indeed, the picture of nature which we gained from following\nGoethe's studies both of the plant and of meteorological happenings has\nbrought us face to face with certain aspects of levity. For when Goethe\nspeaks of systole and diastole, as the plant first taught him to see\nthem and as later he found them forming the basic factors of\nweather-formation, he is really speaking of the ancient concepts,\n'cold' and 'warm'. Goethe's way of observing nature is, in fact, a\nfirst step beyond the limits of a science which kept itself ignorant of\nlevity as a cosmic counterpart to terrestrial gravity. To recognize the\nhistorical significance of this step, let us turn our glance to the\nmoment when the human mind became aware that to lay a proper foundation\nfor the science it was about to build, it had to exclude any idea of\nlevity as something with a real existence.\n\nMany a conception which is taken for granted by modern man, and is\ntherefore assumed to have been always obvious, was in fact established\nquite deliberately at a definite historical moment. We have seen how\nthis applies to our knowledge of the gaseous state of matter; it\napplies also to the idea of the uniqueness of gravity. About half a\ncentury after van Helmont's discovery a treatise called Contra\nLevitatem was published in Florence by the Accademia del Cimento. It\ndeclares that a science firmly based on observation has no right to\nspeak of Levity as something claiming equal rank with, and opposite to,\nGravity.\n\nThis attitude was in accord with the state into which human\nconsciousness had entered at that time. For a consciousness which is\nitself of the quality 'cold', because it is based on the contracting\nforces of the body, is naturally not in a position to take into\nconsideration its very opposite. Therefore, to speak of a force of\nlevity as one felt able to speak of gravity was indeed without meaning.\n\nJust as there was historical necessity in this banishing of levity from\nscience at the beginning of the age of the spectator-consciousness, so\nwas there historical necessity in a renewed awareness of it arising\nwhen the time came for man to overcome the limitations of his spectator\n- relationship to the world. We find this in Goethe's impulse to search\nfor the action of polarities in nature. As we shall see later, it comes\nto its clearest expression in Goethe's optical conceptions.\n\nAnother witness to this fact is Ruskin, through a remark which bears in\nmore than one sense on our present subject. It occurs in his essay, The\nStorm-Cloud of the Ninteenth Century. In its context it is meant to\nwarn the reader against treating science, which Ruskin praises as a\nfact-finding instrument, as an interpreter of natural facts. Ruskin\ntakes Newton's conception of gravity as the all-moving cause of the\nuniverse, and turns against it in the following words:\n\n'Take the very top and centre of scientific interpretation by the\ngreatest of its masters: Newton explained to you - or at least was once\nsupposed to explain, why an apple fell; but he never thought of\nexplaining the exact correlative but infinitely more difficult\nquestion, how the apple got up there.'\n\nThis remark shows Ruskin once again as a true reader in nature's book.\nLooking with childlike openness and intensity of participation into the\nworld of the senses, he allows nature's phenomena to impress themselves\nupon his mind without giving any preconceived preference to one kind or\nanother. This enables him not to be led by the phenomenon of falling\nbodies to overlook the polarically opposite phenomenon of the upward\nmovement of physical matter in the living plant. Ruskin's remark points\ndirectly to the new world-conception which must be striven for to-day -\nthe conception in which death is recognized as a secondary form of\nexistence preceded by life; in which levity is given its rightful place\nas a force polar to gravity; and in which, because life is bound up\nwith levity as death is with gravity, levity is recognized as being of\nmore ancient rank than gravity.\n\n*\n\nIn proceeding now to a study of levity we shall not start, as might be\nexpected, with plants or other living forms. We are not yet equipped to\nunderstand the part played by levity in bringing about the processes of\nlife; we shall come to this later. For our present purpose we shall\nlook at certain macrotelluric events - events in which large areas of\nthe earth are engaged - taking our examples from meteorology on the one\nhand and from seismic (volcanic) processes on the other.\n\nIn pursuing this course we follow a method which belongs to the\nfundamentals of a Goetheanistic science. A few words about this method\nmay not be out of place.\n\nWhen we strive to read the book of nature as a script of the spirit we\nfind ourselves drawn repeatedly towards two realms of natural\nphenomena. They are widely different in character, but studied together\nthey render legible much that refuses to be deciphered in either realm\nalone. These realms are, on the one hand, the inner being of man, and,\non the other, the phenomena of macrotelluric and cosmic character. The\nfruitfulness of linking together these two will become clear if we\nreflect on the following.\n\nThe field of the inner life of man allows us, as nothing else does, to\npenetrate it with our own intuitive experience. For we ourselves are\nalways in some sense the cause of the events that take place there. In\norder to make observations in this region, however, we need to bring\nabout a certain awakening in a part of our being which - so long as we\nrely on the purely natural forces of our body - remains sunk in more or\nless profound unconsciousness.\n\nIf this realm of events is more intimately related than any other to\nour intuitive experience, it has also the characteristic of remaining\nclosed to any research by external means. Much of what lies beyond the\nscope of external observation, however, reveals itself all the more\nclearly in the realms where nature is active on the widest scale.\nCertainly, we must school ourselves to read aright the phenomena which\ncome to light in those realms. And once more we must look to the way of\nintrospection, previously mentioned, for aid in investing our gaze with\nthe necessary intuitive force. If we succeed in this, then the heavens\nwill become for us a text wherein secrets of human nature, hidden from\nmere introspection, can be read; while at the same time the\nintrospective way enables us to experience things which we cannot\nuncover simply by observing the outer universe.\n\nApart from these methodological considerations, there is a further\nreason for our choice. Among the instances mentioned earlier in this\nchapter as symptoms of a greater 'youthfulness' prevailing in nature,\nand particularly in the element Fire, at a comparatively recent date,\nwere the manifestations of the Divine-Spiritual World to man reported\nin the Bible as the event on Mount Sinai. There, thunder and lightning\nfrom above and volcanic action from below form the setting for the\nintercourse of Jehovah with Moses. To-day the function of these types\nof phenomena, though metamorphosed by the altered conditions of the\nearth, is not essentially different. Here, more than in any other\nsphere of her activities, nature manifests that side of her which we\nare seeking to penetrate with understanding.\n\n*\n\nLet us start with an observation known to the present writer from a\nvisit to the Solfatara, a volcanic region near Naples.\n\nThe Solfatara itself is a trough surrounded by hilly mounds; its\nsmooth, saucepan-like bottom, covered with whitish pumice-sand, is\npitted with craters containing violently boiling and fuming mud - the\nso-called fango, famous for its healing properties. All around\nsulphurous fumes issue from crevices in the rocks, and in one special\nplace the Solfatara reveals its subterranean activity by the emergence\nof fine, many-coloured sand, which oozes up like boiling liquid from\nthe depths below. The whole region gives the impression of being in a\nstate of labile balance. How true this is becomes apparent if one drops\npieces of burning paper here and there on the ground: immediately a\ncloud of smoke and steam rises. The effect is even more intense if a\nburning torch is moved about over one of the boiling fango holes. Then\nthe deep answers instantly with an extraordinary intensification of the\nboiling process. The hot mud seems to be thrown into violent turmoil,\nemitting thick clouds of steam, which soon entirely envelop the\nspectator near the edge.\n\nThe scientific mind is at first inclined to see in this phenomenon the\nmechanical effect of reduced air-pressure, due to the higher\ntemperatures above the surface of the boiling mud, though doubts are\nraised by the unusual intensity of the reaction. The feeling that the\nphysical explanation is inadequate is strengthened when the vapours\nhave thinned out and one is surprised to see that every crack and\ncranny in the Solfatara, right up to the top of the trough, shows signs\nof increased activity. Certainly, this cannot be accounted for by a\ncause-and-effect nexus of the kind found in the realm of mechanical\ncausation, where an effect is propagated from point to point and the\ntotal effect is the sum of a number of partial effects. It looks rather\nas if the impulse applied in one spot had called for a major impulse\nwhich was now acting on the Solfatara as a whole.\n\nAs observers who are trying to understand natural phenomena by\nrecognizing their significance as letters in nature's script, we must\nlook now for other phenomena which can be joined with this one to form\nthe relevant 'word' we have set out to decipher.\n\nAll scientific theories concerning the causes of seismic occurrences,\nboth volcanic and tectonic, have been conceived as if the spatial\nmotion of mineral matter were the only happening that had to be\naccounted for. No wonder that none of these theories has proved really\nsatisfactory even to mechanistically orientated thinking. Actually\nthere are phenomena of a quite different kind connected with the\nearth's seismic activities, and these need to be taken into equal\naccount.\n\nThere is, for instance, the fact that animals often show a premonition\nof volcanic or tectonic disturbances. They become restive and hide, or,\nif domestic, seek the protection of man. Apparently, they react in this\nway to changes in nature which precede the mechanical events by which\nman registers the seismic occurrence.\n\nAnother such phenomenon is the so-called earthquake-sky, which the\npresent writer has had several occasions to witness. It consists of a\npeculiar, almost terrifying, intense discoloration of the sky, and, to\nthose acquainted with it, is a sure sign of an imminent or actual\nearthquake somewhere in the corresponding region of the earth. This\nphenomenon teaches us that the change in the earth's condition which\nresults in a violent movement of her crust, involves a region of her\norganism far greater than the subterranean layers where the cause of\nthe purely mechanical events is usually believed to reside.6\n\nThat man himself is not excluded from experiencing directly the\nsuper-spatial nature of seismic disturbances is shown by an event in\nGoethe's life, reported by his secretary Eckermann, who himself learnt\nthe story from an old man who had been Goethe's valet at the time.7\n\nThis is what the old man, whom Eckermann met by accident one day near\nWeimar, told him: 'Once Goethe rang in the middle of the night and when\nI entered his room I found he had rolled his iron bed to the window and\nwas lying there, gazing at the heavens. \"Have you seen nothing in the\nsky?\" asked he, and when I answered \"No\", he begged me to run across to\nthe sentry and inquire of the man on duty if he had seen nothing. He\nhad not noticed anything and when I returned I found the master still\nin the same position, gazing at the sky. \"Listen,\" he said, \"this is an\nimportant moment; there is now an earthquake or one is just going to\ntake place.\" Then he made me sit down on the bed and showed me by what\nsigns he knew this.' When asked about the weather conditions, the old\nman said: 'It was very cloudy, very still and sultry.' To believe\nimplicitly in Goethe was for him a matter of course, 'for things always\nhappened as he said they would'. When next day Goethe related his\nobservations at Court, the women tittered: 'Goethe dreams' ('Goethe\nschw\u00c3\u00a4rmt'), but the Duke and the other men present believed him. A few\nweeks later the news reached Weimar that on that night (5th April,\n1783) part of Messina had been destroyed by an earthquake.\n\nThere is no record by Goethe himself of the nature of the phenomenon\nperceived by him during that night, except for a brief remark in a\nletter to Mme de Stein, written the following day, in which he claims\nto have seen a 'northern light in the south-east' the extraordinary\ncharacter of which made him fear that an earthquake had taken place\nsomewhere. The valet's report makes us inclined to think that there had\nbeen no outwardly perceptible phenomenon at all, but that what Goethe\nbelieved he was seeing with his bodily eyes was the projection of a\npurely supersensible, but not for that reason any less objective,\nexperience.\n\nIn a picture of the seismic activities of the earth which is to\ncomprise phenomena of this kind, the volcanic or tectonic effects\ncannot be attributed to purely local causes. For why, then, should the\nwhole meteorological sphere be involved, and why should living beings\nreact in the way described? Clearly, we must look for the origin of the\ntotal disturbance not in the interior of the earth but in the expanse\nof surrounding space. Indeed, the very phenomenon of the Solfatara, if\nseen in this light, can reveal to us that at least the volcanic\nmovements of the earth's crust are not caused by pressure from within,\nbut by suction from without - that is, by an exceptional action of\nlevity.\n\nWe recall the fact that the whole Solfatara phenomenon had its origin\nin a flame being swayed over one of the fango holes. Although it\nremains true that the suction arising from the diminished air pressure\nover the hole cannot account for the intense increase of ebullition in\nthe hole itself, not to speak of the participation of the entire region\nin this increase, there is the fact that the whole event starts with a\nsuctional effect. As we shall see in the next chapter, any local\nproduction of heat interferes with the gravity conditions at that spot\nby shifting the balance to the side of levity. That the response in a\nplace like the Solfatara is what we have seen it to be, is the result\nof an extraordinary lability of the equilibrium between gravity and\nlevity, a characteristic appertaining to the earth's volcanism in\ngeneral.\n\nFor the people living near the Solfatara it is indeed common knowledge\nthat there are times when this lability is so great that the slightest\nlocal disturbance of the kind we have described can provoke destructive\neruptions of great masses of subterranean mud. (At such times access to\nthe Solfatara is prohibited.) We shall understand such an eruption\nrightly if we picture it as the counter-pole of an avalanche. The\nlatter may be brought about by a fragment of matter on a snow-covered\nmountain, perhaps a little stone, breaking loose and in its descent\nbringing ever-accumulating masses of snow down with it. The\nlevity-process polar to this demonstration of gravity is the production\nof a mightily growing 'negative avalanche' by comparatively weak local\nsuction, caused by a small flame.\n\n*\n\nEarlier in this chapter (page 150) we said that if we want to\nunderstand how spirit moves, forms and transforms matter, we must\nrecognize the existence of non-mechanical (magical) causes of physical\neffects. We have now found that the appearance of such effects in\nnature is due to the operations of a particular force, levity, polar to\ngravity. Observation of a number of natural happenings has helped us to\nbecome familiar in a preliminary way with the character of this force.\nAlthough these happenings were all physical in appearance, they showed\ncertain definitely non-physical features, particularly through their\npeculiar relationship to three-dimensional space. More characteristics\nof this kind will appear in the following pages.\n\nIn this way it will become increasingly clear that in levity we have to\ndo with something which, despite its manifesting characteristics of a\n'force' not unlike gravity and thereby resembling the latter, differs\nessentially from anything purely physical. It is only by its\ninteractions with gravity that levity brings about events in the\nphysical world-events, however, which are themselves partly of a\nphysical, partly of a superphysical kind. Seeing things in this aspect,\nwe are naturally prompted to ask what causes there are in the world\nwhich make gravity and levity interact at all. This question will find\nits answer in due course. First, we must make ourselves more fully\nacquainted with the various appearances of the gravity-levity interplay\nin nature.\n\n1 In this sense Ruskin's description of the working of the spirit in\nthe plant as one that 'catches from chaos water, etc., etc., and\nfastens them into a given form' points to magical action.\n\n2 For Van Helmont, owing to the Flemish pronunciation of the letter G,\nthe two words sounded more alike than their spelling suggests.\n\n3 In a later chapter we shall have opportunity to determine what\ndistinguishes Air from Fire, on the one hand, and Water from Earth on\nthe other.\n\n4 It is this apparent uni-polarity of gravity which has given Professor\nEinstein so much trouble in his endeavour to create a purely\ngravitational world-picture with bipolar electricity and magnetism\nfitting into it mathematically.\n\n5 See the 'Bishop Barnes' controversy of recent date.\n\n6 To the same category belong the mighty thunderstorms which in some\nparts of the world are known to occur in conjunction with earthquakes.\n\n7 See Goethe's Conversations with Eckermann (translated by J.\nOxenford), 13th November, 1823.\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nThe Fourth State of Matter\n\nWhen William Crookes chose as one of the titles of his paper on the\nnewly discovered properties of electricity, 'The Fourth State of\nMatter', it was to express his belief that he had found a state of\nmatter, additional to the three known ones, which represented 'the\nborderland where matter and force seem to merge into one another, the\nshadowy realm between known and unknown' for which his soul had been\nlonging ever since the death of his beloved brother.1 All that has\nfollowed from his discovery, down to the transformation of matter\nitself into freely working energy, shows that he was right in thinking\nhe had reached some borderland of nature. But the character of the\nforces which are thus liberated makes it equally clear that this is not\nthe borderland he was looking for. Nature - by which we mean physical\nnature - has in fact two borders, one touching the realm of the\nintramaterial energies which are liberated by disrupting the structure\nof atomic nuclei, the other leading over into creative Chaos, the\nfountain-head of all that appears in nature as intelligent design.\n\nIt was Crookes's fate to open the road which has brought man to\nnature's lower border and even across it, although he himself was in\nsearch of her upper border. What he was denied, we are in a position to\nachieve to-day, provided we do not expect to succeed by methods similar\nto those of atomic physics, and do not look for similar results.\n\nTo show that there is a fourth state of matter, rightly so called,\nwhich represents in actual fact the upper border of nature, and to\npoint the way that leads to it and across it, is the purpose of this\nchapter.\n\n*\n\nFrom our previous comparison of the older conception of the four\nelementary conditions of nature with that now held of the three states\nof ponderable matter, we may expect that the fourth state will have\nsomething in common with heat. Heat is indeed the energy which\ntransforms matter by carrying it from the solid to the liquid and\ngaseous states. Not so obvious is the fact that heat, apart from being\nan agent working at matter in this way, is the very essence underlying\nall material existence, out of which matter in its three ponderable\nstates comes into being and into which it is capable of returning\nagain. Such a conception of matter was naturally absent from the age of\nthe Contra-Levitatem orientation of the human mind. To create this\nconception, a new Pro-Levitate orientation is required.\n\nApart from producing liquefaction and vaporization, heat has also the\nproperty of acting on physical matter so that its volume increases.\nBoth facts are linked together by science through the thermodynamic\nconception of heat. As this conception firmly blocks the road to the\nrecognition of the role of heat as the fourth state of matter, our\nfirst task will be to determine our own standpoint with regard to it.\nFurther obstacles on our way are the so-called Laws of Conservation,\nwhich state that no matter and no energy - which for present-day\nscience have become one and the same thing - can ever disappear into\n'nothing' or come into being out of 'nothing'. This idea, also, will\ntherefore require our early attention.2\n\n*\n\nIn the light of our previous studies we shall not find it difficult to\ntest the reality-value of the thermodynamic conception of heat.\n\nAs we know of mass through a definite sense-perception, so we know of\nheat. In the latter case we rely on the sense of warmth. In Chapter\nVIII we took the opportunity to test the objectivity of the information\nreceived through this sense. Still, one-eyed, colour-blind observation\nis naturally unable to take account of these sense-messages. To this\nkind of observation nothing is accessible, we know, except spatial\ndisplacements of single point-like entities. Hence we find Bacon and\nHooke already attributing the sensation of warmth to minute fast-moving\nparticles of matter impinging on the skin. Some time later we find\nLocke taking up the same picture. We see from this how little the\nmechanical theory of heat owes to empirical facts. For even in Locke's\ntime the connexion between heat and mechanical action, as recognized\nto-day, was completely unknown.\n\nWith this idea firmly rooted in his mind, modern man had no difficulty\nin using it to explain both thermal expansion and the effect of heat on\nthe different states of matter, and so, finally, these states\nthemselves. Thermal expansion was thus attributed to an increase in the\naverage distance between the assumed minute particles, caused by an\nincrease in their rate of movement; the liquid state was held to differ\nfrom the solid, and similarly the gaseous from the liquid, by the\ninterspaces between the particles becoming relatively so great that the\ngravitational pull between them became too weak to hold them together.\n\nTested from a view-point outside the onlooker-consciousness, this whole\npicture of the interaction between matter and heat appears to run\ncounter to the cosmic order of things in a way typical of other\nspectator-theories. Ancient man, if confronted with this picture, would\nhave said that it means explaining the element Fire by the quality\nCold. For each of those minute particles, in its solidity and state of\nspatial separation from the others, represents an effigy of the earth\nand thereby the element Earth itself. He would be unable to understand\nwhy phenomena of the 'warm' element Fire should be explained by its\nvery opposite. Moreover, Fire forms part of the ever 'youthful' realm\nof the world, whereas anything which exists as a spatially discernible\nentity, capable of being moved about mechanically, must have grown\ncosmically 'old'.\n\nThat Ruskin was as much on the alert in regard to this theory as he was\nin regard to Newton's theory of gravitation, is shown by the following\nutterance from his The Queen of the Air. Obviously stirred by Tyndall's\nnewly published treatise, Heat as a Mode of Motion, Ruskin felt the\nneed to criticize the endeavour of contemporary science 'to simplify\nthe various forms of energy more and more into modes of one force, or\nfinally into mere motion, communicable in various states, but not\ndestructible', by declaring that he would himself 'like better in order\nof thought3 to consider motion as a mode of heat than heat as a mode of\nmotion'.\n\nThese words of Ruskin touch also on the law of conservation of energy,\nof which we said that it also called for a preliminary examination.\nWhat we now have to find out is the factual basis on which this law\nrests.\n\n*\n\nThe conception of the law of conservation of energy arose from the\ndiscovery of the constant numerical relation between heat and\nmechanical work, known as the mechanical equivalent of heat. This\ndiscovery was made at about the same time by Joule in England and J. R.\nMayer in Germany, although by entirely different routes. Joule, a\nbrewer, was a man of practical bent. Trained by Dalton, the founder of\nthe atomic theory, in experimental research, he continued Rumford's and\nDavy's researches which they had undertaken to prove that heat is not,\nas it was for a time believed to be, a ponderable substance, but an\nimponderable agent. As a starting-point he took the heating effect of\nelectric currents. The fact that these could be generated by turning a\nmachine, that is, by the expenditure of mechanical energy, gave him the\nidea of determining the amount of work done by the machine and then\ncomparing this with the amount of heat generated by the current. A\nnumber of ingenious experiments enabled him to determine with\nincreasing exactitude the numerical relation between work and heat, as\nwell as to establish the absolute constancy of the relation.\n\nThis he regarded as proof of the mechanical theory of heat, which he\nhad taken from Rumford and Davy. What simpler explanation could there\nbe for the constant numerical relation between work and heat than the\nconception that transformation of one form of energy into another was\nsimply a transmission of motion from one object to another? From the\nquantitative equality of expended and generated energy was it not\nnatural to argue the qualitative similarity of the two forms of energy,\nwhich only externally seemed different?\n\nIt was by quite a different path that the Heilbronn doctor, Mayer,\narrived at his results. To escape from the narrowness of his South\nGerman home town, he went, while still a youth, as doctor to a Dutch\nship sailing to Java. When in the tropics he treated a number of\nsailors by blood-letting, he observed that the venous blood was much\nnearer in colour to the paler arterial blood than was usual at home.\nThis change in the colour he attributed to the diminished intensity of\nbodily combustion, due, he believed, to the higher temperature of the\ntropics.\n\nScarcely had this thought passed through his mind than it induced\nanother - that of a universal interrelationship between all possible\nforms of energy. This last idea so took possession of him that during\nthe return voyage, as he himself related, he could scarcely think of\nanything but how to prove the correctness of his idea and what the\nconsequences would be for the general view of nature. From the moment\nof his return he devoted his life to practical research into the\nconnexion between the various manifestations of energy. It was in this\nway that he was led to the determination of the so-called mechanical\nequivalent of heat, shortly before the same discovery was made in a\nquite different manner by Joule.\n\nIf one considers how slender a connexion there was between Mayer's\nobservation on the sailors in Java and the idea of the quantitative\nequilibrium of all physical nature-forces, and if one contrasts this\nwith the fanaticism he showed during the rest of his life in proving\nagainst all obstacles the correctness of his idea, one must feel that\nthe origin of the thought in Mayer's mind lay elsewhere than in mere\nphysical observations and logical deductions. Confirmation of this may\nbe found in what Mayer himself declared to be his view concerning the\nactual grounds for the existence of a constant numerical association\nbetween the various manifestations of natural energy.\n\nSo far as science allowed Mayer any credit for his work, this was based\non the opinion that through his discovery he had provided the final\nvindication of the mechanical theory of heat. This judgment, however,\nwas only piling one wrong upon another. Mayer's destiny was truly\ntragic. When he began to publicize his conviction of the numerical\nequilibrium between spent and created energy, he met with so much\nscepticism, even derision, that from sheer despair his mind at times\nbecame clouded. When at last toward the end of his life he received the\nrecognition his discovery deserved (not before being dragged through a\npainful priority dispute which Joule forced upon him and lost), the\nscientists had begun to use his idea for bolstering up a hypothesis\ndirectly counter to the idea which had led him to his discovery, and\nfor the sake of which he had accepted so much suffering.\n\nMayer's spiritual kin are not to be found among the heat-theorists of\nhis time, such as Helmholtz and others, but among thinkers of the stamp\nof Goethe, Howard and Ruskin. His basic idea of the inner connexion\nbetween all forms of energy in nature corresponds entirely with\nGoethe's idea of metamorphosis. Just as Goethe saw in the ur-plant the\nIdea common to all plant-forms or, in the various plant-organs, the\nmetamorphosis of one and the same ur-organ, so was Mayer convinced of\nthe existence of an ur-force which expressed itself in varying guises\nin the separate energy-forms of nature. In the picture of the physical\nuniverse which hovered before him, the transformation of one form of\nenergy into another - such as mechanical energy into electrical, this\ninto chemical and so on - was somewhat similar to Goethe's picture of\nthe organic life of the earth, in which the metamorphosis of one living\nform into another constantly occurred. 'There is in nature', said\nMayer, 'a specific dimension of immaterial constitution which preserves\nits value in all changes taking place among the objects observed,\nwhereas its form of appearance alters in the most manifold ways.'\n\nFor the physicist, accustomed to a purely quantitative observation of\nnature, it is difficult to comprehend that Mayer could have arrived at\nthe thought of a constant quantitative relation between the various\nmanifestations of natural energy, without deriving from it the\nconviction of their qualitative indentity - i.e., without concluding\nfrom the existence of the mechanical heat - equivalent that heat is\nitself nothing else than a certain form of spatial movement. Mayer\nactually had a picture directly contrary to the mechanistic conception.\nFor him, the arising of heat represented a disappearance of mechanical\nenergy.\n\nIf this, then, was Mayer's belief, what was it that convinced him of\nthe existence of a numerical balance between appearing and vanishing\nenergy, even before he had any experimental proof?\n\nLater in this book there will be occasion to introduce a concept of\nnumber in tune with our qualitative world-outlook. What led Mayer to\nlook upon number as an expression of existing spiritual associations in\nnature will then become clear. Let this much be said here, that number\nin the universe has quite different functions from that of serving\nmerely as an expression for a total of calculable items, or as a means\nof comparing spatial distances. It is in the nature of the\nonlooker-consciousness that it is unable to interpret numerical\nequality between natural phenomena save as indicating the presence of\nan equal number of calculable objects or of spatial movements of equal\nmagnitude. It was therefore consistent for such a consciousness to\nregard the discovery by Mayer of the mechanical heat-equivalent as a\nconfirmation of the existing mechanical conception of heat.\n\nFor Mayer such an interpretation was not necessary. His conviction of\nthe existence of an ur-force, manifesting through metamorphosis in all\nnatural forces, led him to expect a constant numerical relation amongst\nthese, without requiring him to deny the objective existence of\nqualitative differences, as these displayed themselves in the field of\nphenomena. He was spiritually akin to Goethe, also, in that he guarded\nhimself strictly against substituting for the contents of our\nperception conveyed by nature purely hypothetical entities which, while\nfashioned after the world of the senses, are, in principle,\nimperceptible. Mayer sought after a truly empirically founded concept\nof force, and his method was that of reading from all the various\nmanifestations of force which were open to sense observation. One such\nmanifestation, capable of empirical determination, was the balance\nbetween appearing and disappearing energy.\n\nScience treated Mayer in the same way as it treated Howard. It took\nfrom him what it wanted for its purpose without concerning itself with\nthe epistemological principle which had led him to his discovery. Thus\nit was that Mayer's discovery led to most important consequences for\nthe development of modern technical devices, whereas it was the fate of\nhis guiding idea to be first derided, then misunderstood and finally\nforgotten. The consequence was that the knowledge of the numerical\nequilibrium between created and expended energy in the economy of\nnature has widened more and more the abyss separating spirit and matter\nin human life, instead of leading, as indeed it might have done, to a\nbridging of the abyss. The thought, therefore, regarding the appearing\nand disappearing of measurable cosmic substance, to which we are led\nwhen following Goethe's method of observing nature, stands in no sort\nof contradiction to what Mayer himself conceived as the relation of the\nvarious forms of energy to one another, and the maintenance of the\nnumerical balance between them.\n\n*\n\nHaving thus determined our standpoint with regard to the thermodynamic\ntheory of heat and the law of conservation, we may proceed to the\nstudy, first of the phenomenon of thermal expansion, and then of the\neffect of heat on the various states of physical matter, by applying to\nthem, unimpeded by any preconceived mechanistic idea, what we have\nlearnt through our previous studies. We must start by developing a\nproper picture of the dynamic condition of matter in the solid state.\n\nIn a solid body the material substance is centred on an inner point,\nthe so-called centre of gravity - a characteristic which such a body\nshares with the earth as a whole. Likewise, two such bodies exert on\none another the same influence that the earth exerts on each of them:\nthey try to assume the shortest possible distance from each other.\nSince the days of Faraday science has been accustomed to ascribe these\nphenomena to the existence of certain fields of force, connected with\neach body and working on one another through the intermediary space. It\nis to this concept of the field of force that we must now give special\nattention. For the field-concept, in the form introduced by Faraday\ninto scientific thinking, is one of the few scientific concepts which\nhave been obtained by being 'read' from the corresponding phenomena\nthemselves, and which therefore retain their validity in a science\nwhich is based on the method of reading.\n\nAccording to the field-concept, terrestrial manifestations of gravity\nare due to the earth's being the bearer of a gravitational field\ncentred within the globe, and extending thence in all directions\nthrough space, across and beyond the earth's body. Every point in\nspace, both inside and outside the earth, is characterized by a\ndefinite intensity of this field, the so-called gravitational\npotential. This is subject to variations due to the presence of other\nphysical masses, which carry their own fields of gravity. What happens\nbetween such masses and that of the earth, as well as mutually between\nsuch masses themselves, is brought about by the particular conditions\nin space resulting from the interpenetration of the various fields.\n\nIt is essential to realize that all fields dealt with by physical\nscience, the gravitational, electric, magnetic - however much they\ndiffer otherwise - have this one characteristic in common, that they\nhave a centre where the field is at its highest intensity, diminishing\nas the distance from the centre increases. Motion in such a field\nnaturally takes place from regions of lower to those of higher\nintensity - in other words, it follows the rising potential of the\nfield. This accounts for the tendency of physical masses to arrive at\nthe shortest possible distance between them.\n\nIt was natural for the modern mind to picture a dynamic condition of\nthe kind just described, that is, one in which the centre and source,\nas it were, is a point round which the dynamic condition spreads with\nsteadily diminishing strength as the distance from the point grows. For\nsuch is the condition of man's head-bound consciousness. The locus from\nwhich modern man watches the world is a point within the field of this\nconsciousness, and the intensity with which the world acts on it\ndiminishes with increasing spatial distance from this point. This is\nthe reason why levity was banished from scientific inquiry, and why,\nwhen the field-concept was created by the genius of Faraday, it did not\noccur to anyone that with it the way was opened to comprehend\nfield-types other than the centric one characteristic of gravity and\nkindred forces. To make use of the field-concept in this other way is\none of the tasks we have to undertake if we are to overcome the impasse\nin which present-day scientific cognition finds itself.\n\nTo develop a picture of the type of field represented by levity, let us\nrecall certain results from the observations of the last chapter.\n\nThere the volcanic phenomenon, when taken in its wider implications,\nmade us realize that the upward movement of physical masses, in itself\npart of the total phenomenon, is due to a dynamic cause which we had to\ndescribe, in contrast to centripetally working pressure, as\nperipherally working suction. Of this concept of suction we must now\nobserve that we may apply it with justification only if we realize that\nsuction can be caused in two different ways. In the sense in which we\nare wont to use the term, suction is the result of a difference of\npressure in adjacent parts of space, the action taking place in the\ndirection of the minor pressure. Apart from this, however, suction can\noccur also as a result of the outward-bound increase of the strength of\na levity-field.\n\nIt is in this sense that we may speak of the seismic movements of the\nearth as being caused by suction acting from without. In the same sense\nwe may say that the upward movement of the saps in the plant (to which\nRuskin pointed as being responsible for the apple appearing at the top\nof the tree) and with it the entire growth-phenomenon in the plant\nworld, is due to peripheral suction.\n\nConsiderations of this kind lead one to a picture in which the earth is\nseen to be surrounded and penetrated by a field of force which is in\nevery respect the polar opposite of the earth's gravitational field. As\nthe latter has its greatest intensity at its centre, which is identical\nwith the centre of the earth's globe, so has the levitational field its\ngreatest intensity at its circumference which is somewhere in the width\nof the universe. (Later considerations will enable us to locate its\nposition more precisely.)\n\nAs the gravity-field decreases in strength with increasing distance\nfrom the centre of the field, that is, in the outward direction, so\ndoes the levity-field decrease in strength with increasing distance\nfrom its periphery, or in the inward direction. In both fields the\ndirection of movement is from regions of lower to those of higher\nintensity. This is why things 'fall' under the influence of gravity and\n'rise' under the influence of levity.4\n\n*\n\nHow does thermal expansion read as a letter in nature's script when\nseen in the light of the two contrasting field-concepts?\n\nLet us, for simplicity's sake, imagine a spherically shaped metallic\nbody, say, a ball of copper, which we expose to the influence of heat.\nAs we have seen, it is the centrically orientated gravity-field which\ngives the ball its permanency of shape. Consequently, the dynamic\norientation of the material constituting its body is directed towards\nthe interior of the body itself.\n\nNow, the moment we bring heat to bear on the body we find its surface\nmoving in the outward direction. The whole mass is clearly under the\ninfluence of some suction which is directed on to the body from\noutside. Just as the plants grow in the anti-gravitational direction as\na result of the suctional effect of levity (other factors which account\nfor its growing into a particular shape, etc., being left out of\nconsideration), so our copper ball grows in volume by being sucked away\nfrom its centre of gravity. It is the action of heat which has changed\nthe ratio between gravity and levity at this spot in such a way as to\nallow levity to produce this effect.5\n\nWhat we have thus found to be the true nature of the event perceived as\na body's growth in volume under the influence of heat has a definite\neffect on our conception of spatially extended matter as such. For a\nphysical body is always in some thermal state which may be regarded as\nhigher than another, and it may therefore be regarded as being at all\ntimes thermally expanded to some extent. Hence, it is all the time\nunder the sway of both gravitational pressure and anti-gravitational\nsuction. In fact, we may say ideally that, if there were no field\nworking inwards from the cosmic periphery, the entire material content\nof the earthly realm would be reduced by gravitation to a spaceless\npoint; just as under the sole influence of the peripheral field of\nlevity it would dissipate into the universe.\n\nTo ordinary scientific thinking this may sound paradoxical, but in\nreality it is not. Observation of the nature of solid matter has led\natomistic thought to regard a physical body as a heap of molecules so\nfar apart that by far the greater part of the volume occupied by the\nbody is just 'empty' space. In the scientific picture of molecules\nconstituting a physical body, of atoms constituting the molecules, of\nelectrons, protons, etc., constituting the atoms, all separated by\nspaces far exceeding the size of the elementary particles themselves,\nwe find reflected, in a form comprehensible to the\nonlooker-consciousness, the fact that matter, even in the solid state,\nis kept in spatial extension by a field of force relating it to the\ncosmic periphery.\n\n*\n\nWith this picture of solid matter as being held in spatial extension by\nits subjection to gravity and levity alike, we proceed to a study of\nthe liquid and gaseous states of matter, while taking into account the\nrole of heat in bringing these states about.\n\nFollowing out our method of seeking to gain knowledge of a phenomenon\nby regarding it as part of a greater whole, let us ask what sort of\nchange a portion of physical substance undergoes in its relation to the\nearth as a whole when, for instance, through the influence of heat, it\npasses from a solid to a liquid state. Here we must keep in mind that\nit is part of the nature of a liquid to have no form of its own. The\nonly natural boundary of a liquid substance is its upper surface. Since\nthis surface always lies parallel with the surface of the earth it\nforms part of a sphere, the centre point of which is identical with\nthat of the gravitational centre of the earth. The passage of a portion\nof matter from solid to liquid thus signifies that it ceases to possess\na centre of gravity of its own and is now merely obedient to the\ngeneral gravity-field of the earth. We can thus speak of a transition\nof matter from the individual to the planetary condition. This is what\nheat brings about when a solid body melts.\n\nA large part of the heat used in melting is known to be absorbed by the\nsubstance during the process of melting. This is indicated by the\nthermometer remaining at the temperature of the melting-point once this\nhas been reached, until the whole of the melting substance has\nliquefied. Physics here speaks of 'free' heat becoming 'latent'. From\nthe Goethean point of view we see heat passing through a metamorphosis.\nWhereas, previously, heat was perceptible to our sense of warmth, it\nnow manifests as a gravity-denying property of matter.\n\nIn order to obtain an idea of the liquid state of matter corresponding\nto reality, we must take into account yet another of its\ncharacteristics. When the heat becomes latent, it goes even further in\ncontradicting gravity than by robbing matter of its own point of\ngravity and relating it to the earth's centre of gravity. This effect\nis shown in the well-known urge of all liquids to evaporate. Hence we\nmust say that even where matter in a liquid state preserves its own\nsurface, this does not by any means represent an absolute boundary.\nAbove the surface there proceeds a continuous transition of substance\ninto the next higher condition through evaporation. We see here the\nactivity of heat going beyond the mere denial of gravity to a positive\naffirmation of levity.\n\nWith the help of this conception of the integration of the liquid state\nwithin the polarity of gravity and levity, we are now able to draw a\npicture of the earth which, once obtained, answers many a question left\nunanswered by current scientific notions, among them the question why\nthe earth's volcanic activity is confined to maritime regions.\n\nRegarding the distribution of land and water on the earth's surface, we\nmay say that to an observer in cosmic space the earth would not look at\nall like a solid body. Rather would it appear as a gigantic 'drop' of\nwater, its surface interspersed with solid formations, the continents\nand other land masses. Moreover, the evidence assembled ever since\nProfessor A. Wegener's first researches suggests that the continents\nare clod-like formations which 'float' on an underlying viscous\nsubstance and are able to move (very slowly) in both the vertical and\nhorizontal directions. The oceanic waters are in fact separated from\nthe viscous substratum by no more than a thin layer of solid earth, a\nmere skin in comparison with the size of the planet. Further, this\n'drop' of liquid which represents the earth is in constant\ncommunication with its environment through the perpetual evaporation\nfrom the ocean, as well as from every other body of water.\n\nThis picture of the earth shows it lying under the twofold influence of\nthe compressive force of gravity and the sucking force of levity.\nWherever land meets sea, there levity tends to prevail over gravity. It\nis in maritime regions, accordingly, that the inner strata of the earth\nsuccumb most readily to those sudden changes in the gravity-levity\ntension wherein we have recognized the origin of seismic occurrences.\n\n*\n\nTurning to the gaseous condition, we realize that although even here\nmatter retains traces of a connexion with terrestrial gravity, levity\nis now the dominant factor. There are three characteristics of the\ngaseous condition which bring this out. One is the extreme readiness of\ngases to expand when heated; we see here how much easier than with\nsolid substances it is for heat to overcome the influence of gravity.\nThe second characteristic is the property of gases, peculiar to them,\nof expanding spontaneously, even when not heated. Here we find gaseous\nmatter displaying a dynamic behaviour which at lower stages occurs only\nunder the stimulus of heat. The third characteristic is shown by the\nfact that all gases, unlike solids or liquids, respond with the same\nincrease of volume to a given rise of temperature, however diverse\ntheir other qualities may be. Once gases are mixed, therefore, they\ncannot be separated merely by raising or lowering the temperature. Here\nwe find the unifying effect of the cosmic periphery prevailing over the\ndifferentiating effect of terrestrial gravity.\n\nAt this point we may recall Goethe's reply to the botanist, Wolff, who\nhad ascribed the metamorphosis of plant-organs from root to blossom to\na gradual stunting or atrophy of their vegetative force, whereas it was\nclear to Goethe that simultaneously with a physical retrogression,\nthere is a spiritual progress in the development of the plant. The fact\nthat all Wolff's efforts to see clearly did not save him from 'seeing\npast the thing' seemed to Goethe an inevitable result of Wolff's\nfailure to associate with the eyes of the body those of the spirit.\n\nExactly the same thing holds good for the sequence of physical states\nof matter which we are considering here. Observation of this sequence\nwith the bodily eyes alone will show nothing but a reduction of the\nspecific gravity of the material concerned. He who is at pains to\nobserve also with the eye of the spirit, however, is aware of a\npositive increase of lightness going hand in hand with a decrease of\nheaviness. Regarded thus, the three ponderable conditions form what\nGoethe would have called a 'spiritual ladder'. As 'rungs' of such a\nladder they clearly point to a fourth rung - that is, a fourth state in\nwhich levity so far prevails over gravity that the substance no longer\nhas any weight at all. This picture of the fourfold transformation of\nmatter calls for an inquiry into the transition between the third and\nfourth states, corresponding to the well-known transitions between the\n\nthree ponderable states.\n\n*\n\nOur observations have led us to a concept of heat essentially different\nfrom that held by modern science. Science looks on heat simply as a\ncondition of ponderable matter. We, on the contrary, are led to\nrecognize in heat a fourth condition into which matter may pass on\nleaving the three ponderable conditions, and out of which it may emerge\non the way to ponderability.\n\nBefore showing that such transitions are actually known in nature, it\nmay be well to discuss here an objection which the customary way of\nthinking might plausibly advance against our whole method. It could be\nsaid that to assume a continuation of the sequence of the three\nponderable conditions in the manner suggested is justified only if, as\nsolids can be turned into liquids and these into gases, so gases could\nbe transformed into a fourth condition and, conversely, be produced\nfrom the latter.\n\nIn reply it can be said that the fact of our not being able at present\nto change gases artificially into pure heat does not justify the\nconclusion that this is in principle impossible. We know from previous\nconsiderations that the earth has reached an evolutionary stage at\nwhich all elements, including fire, have in certain degree grown 'old'.\nThis applies in quite a special degree to the manipulations to which\nman, led by his death-bound consciousness, has learnt to submit matter\nin his laboratories. To decide what is possible or not possible in\nnature, therefore, can by no means be left to the judgment of\nlaboratory research. As is shown by the following instance, taken from\nthe realm of vegetable life, a case of the creation of matter 'out of\nnothing' is already known to biology - though biology, bound in its\nconcepts to the Law of Conservation, shows some natural reluctance to\nrecognize the true significance of the phenomenon.\n\nThe plant which performs this strange feat is the Tillandsia usneoides,\nindigenous to tropical America, and generally known as 'Spanish Moss'.\nIts peculiarity is that it grows and flourishes without taking from its\nsupport any material whatsoever for the building up of its substance.\nIts natural habitat is the dry bark of virgin forest trees. Since\ncivilization invaded its home it has acquired the habit of growing even\non telegraph wires, which has given it the popular name of 'telegraph\ntresses'. Chemical analysis of this plant shows the presence of an\naverage of 17 per cent iron, 36 per cent silicic acid and 1\u00c2\u00b765 per cent\nphosphoric acid. This applies to samples taken from districts where the\nrainwater - the only source from which the plant could extract these\nsubstances in physical form - contains at most 1\u00c2\u00b765 per cent iron, 0\u00c2\u00b701 per\ncent silicic acid and no phosphoric acid at all.\n\nThe Tillandsia phenomenon is to a certain extent reminiscent of another\nwell-known plant activity. This is the process of assimilation of\ncarbon from the carbon dioxide of the air. If we leave aside the change\nin the chemical combination which the carbon undergoes, there remains\nthe picture of the plant drawing this matter to itself from its\nenvironment and at the same time subjecting it to a spatial\ncondensation. A similar but even more far-reaching process is exhibited\nby the Tillandsia as regards the three substances referred to above.\nFrom the conditions given, it follows that the plant cannot possibly\nget these substances elsewhere than out of the surrounding atmosphere,\nand that in drawing upon them it submits them to a high degree of\ncondensation. A special role, however, is played by the phosphorus,\nwhich shows that the assimilative power of the plant is sufficient to\ntransform phosphorus from a physically not traceable state into one of\nspatially bounded materiality. Following Goethe in his coining of the\nconcept of 'spiritual anastomosis' for the pollinating process of\nplants, we can here speak of 'spiritual assimilation'.\n\nIn this respect Tillandsia provides an instance 'worth a thousand,\nbearing all within itself. For what nature here unmistakably\ndemonstrates serves as an eye-opener to a universal fact of the plant\nkingdom and of nature in general. The problem of the so-called\ntrace-elements may serve as an illustration of this.\n\nModern agricultural chemistry has found of a number of chemical\nelements that their presence in the soil in scarcely traceable amounts\nis necessary in order to enable the plant to unfold healthily its\nlatent characteristics. All sorts of deficiencies in cultivated plants\nhave led to a recognition that the soil is impoverished of certain\nelements by intensive modern cultivation, and that it is to the lack of\nthese elements that the deficiencies are due. Much work has meanwhile\nbeen done in classifying the various deficiencies and in devising ways\nof giving the soil chemical substitutes for what is lacking.\n\nA large part of the work here involved could be saved were it only to\nbe acknowledged that the soil owes the natural occurrence of the proper\nelements to a process which the plants themselves bring about in the\nsoil, if men refrain from hindering them by cleverly thought-out\nmethods of cultivation which fail to reckon with the nature of a living\norganism.\n\nLet us be clear what it is that occurs when a plant exhibits any of the\nobserved abnormalities. Expressed in a Goethean manner, these are the\nconsequence of an insufficient direction of the organic processes in\nthe plant body by the spiritual plant-type underlying it. That which\nRuskin called the 'spirit' of the plant, and to which he drew attention\nin his aphorism 'Stand by Form against Force' (by 'form' all the\npeculiar qualities of the plant are to be understood), is unable to\nexpress itself in full measure. Now we know that, in order to unfold\nits activities on the physical plane, spirit requires 'young' matter -\nthat is, matter which is either in, or has just emerged from, a purely\ndynamic state. Normally a definite spiritual type co-ordinates the\ndynamic functions present in the superphysical sphere of nature in the\nmanner required to give the plant-organism its appropriate form. As,\nthrough the action of the type, these functions are brought down from\nthe sphere of levity into that of gravity, they condense to the\ncorresponding material elements and thus reach the soil in material\nform via the physical organism of the plant.\n\nThe pattern as usually seen is now reversed; the presence of the\nvarious elements in the soil no longer appears as the origin of one or\nanother function in the building up of the plant-body, but quite the\nreverse. The functions appear now as the cause, and the soil-elements\nas the effect. We may thus recognize the value of the latter as\nsymptoms from which we can read the existence of a healthy connexion\nbetween the plant and the corresponding form-creating functions working\non it from its surroundings.\n\nWith this reversal of the relationship between cause and effect it is\nnot, however, intended to represent the commonly accepted order of\nthings as entirely incorrect. In the realm of life, cause and effect\nare not so onesidedly fixed as in the realm of mechanical forces. We\nmay therefore admit that a reverse effect of the soil-elements upon the\nplant does take place. This is plainly demonstrable in the case of\nphosphorus which, however, by reason of its appearance in the soil in\nproportions hardly to be called a mere 'trace', represents a borderline\ncase. What may apply within limits to phosphorus is wholly valid for\nthe trace-elements - namely, that they are playing their essential role\nwhile they are themselves about to assume ponderable form.\n\nIt thus becomes clear how mistaken it is to attempt to cure\ndeficiencies in plants by adding to the soil chemical substitutes for\nthe trace-elements. In the condition in which this material is offered\nto the plant, it is truly 'old' material. In order to be able to use it\nfunctionally, the plant has first to convert it into the 'young'\ncondition. This indeed happens whilst the material is rising in the\nplant combined with the juices drawn by the plant from the soil under\nthe influence of levity-force. Only when this has occurred are the\nchemical elements able to serve the plant functionally. Thus, by trying\nto give help to the plant in this way, we injure it at the same time.\nFor by forcing it to perform the operation described, its general\nlife-forces are diminished. A seeming success brought about in this\nmanner, therefore, will not last long.6\n\nThere is, nevertheless, a way of helping the plant by adding to the\nsoil certain material substances, provided these are first brought into\na purely dynamic condition. That this can be done is a fact long since\nknown, even if not recognized in its true significance. So far then, as\nserves the purpose of this book, we shall deal with it here.\n\n*\n\nThe method in question is associated with the school of medicine known\nas Homoeopathy, founded by the German doctor, Hahnemann. The word\n'homoeopathy' means 'healing through like'; the basic principle is to\ntreat disease symptoms with highly diluted substances which produce\nsimilar symptoms if ingested in normal quantity. Experience has in fact\nshown that the physiological effect of a substance taken from external\nnature is reversed when the substance is highly diluted.\n\nThe method of diluting, or 'potentizing', is as follows: A given volume\nof the material to be diluted is dissolved in nine times its volume of\ndistilled water. The degree of dilution thus arrived at is 1:10,\nusually symbolized as Ix. A tenth part of this solution is again mixed\nwith nine times its bulk of water. The degree of dilution is now 1:100,\nor 2x. This process is continued as far as is found necessary for a\ngiven purpose. Insoluble substances can be dealt with in the same\nmanner by first grinding them together with corresponding quantities of\na neutral powder, generally sugar of milk. After a certain number of\nstages the powder can be dissolved in water; the solution may then be\ndiluted further in the manner described. Here we have to do with\ntransfer of the quality of a substance, itself insoluble, to the\ndissolving medium, and then with the further treatment of the latter as\nif it were the original bearer of the quality concerned.\n\nThis fact alone shows that potentization leads into a realm of material\neffects at variance with the ordinary scientific conception of matter.\nMoreover, we can carry the dilutions as far as we please without\ndestroying the capacity of the substance to produce physiological\nreactions. On the contrary, as soon as its original capacity is reduced\nto a minimum by dilution, further dilution gives it the power to cause\nactually stronger reactions, of a different and usually opposite kind.\nThis second capacity rises through stages to a variable maximum as\ndilution proceeds.\n\nA simple calculation shows - if we accept the ordinary scientific view\nas to the size of a molecule - that not a single molecule of the\noriginal substance will remain in the solution after a certain degree\nof dilution has been reached. Yet the biological and other reactions\ncontinue long after this, and are even enhanced.\n\nWhat this potentizing process shows is that, by repeated expansions in\nspace, a substance can be carried beyond the ponderable conditions of\nmatter into the realm of pure functional effect. The potentizing of\nphysical substances thus gains a significance far wider than that of\nits medical use.7 There opens up, for example, the possibility of\nstimulating deficient functions in the plant by giving it the\ncorresponding elements in homoeopathic doses. By this means the plant\nis brought into direct connexion with the relevant spiritual energy,\nand then left to carry out for itself the necessary process of\nmaterialization, instead of being forced by mere chemical additions to\nthe soil first to potentize the substance itself.8\n\nThe same principle holds good for man and beast. They also need 'young\nmaterial' for their nourishment, so that the type active in them -\nwhich in animals is the group-soul of the species and in man is the\nsingle individual - can express its true form and character. (We saw\nearlier that the will requires 'young' material in order to penetrate\ninto the material layers of the muscles, as happens when the limbs are\nset in motion). In this respect, the difference between ensouled\ncreatures and plants is that, what is harmful to plants is natural for\nmen and animals: when taking nourishment the latter are able to bring\nabout quickly and purposefully a transformation of matter into the\npurely dynamic state. Their metabolic system is designed to enable them\nto take alien material from outer nature and to transform it through\nthe forces of the various digestive enzymes; in the course of this\nprocess the material passes through a condition of complete 'chaos'.\n\n*\n\nHaving in this way established the existence of certain processes of\nmaterialization and dematerialization in single organisms within the\nearth's vegetable and other kingdoms, we shall now turn to the earth as\na whole to find out where - organic being that she herself is - she\nmanipulates corresponding processes on a macrotelluric scale.\n\nIn an age following van Helmont's discovery of the gaseous state of\nmatter and the statement of the Contra Levitatem maxim, men were bound\nto think that the circulation of atmospheric moisture was limited to\nthe three stages of liquid, vaporous (peculiar to the clouds, etc.) and\nthe invisible aeriform condition. Yet the role played by clouds in the\nmyths of early peoples shows that they were once given a quite\ndifferent status, between the 'created' and 'uncreated' worlds. Our\nobservations lead to a corresponding conception, but along the path of\nknowledge, guided by sense-perception, as befits our own age.\n\nIn discussing Howard's discovery of the stages of cloud-formation we\nfound something lacking, for it was clear that the three stages of\ncloud proper - stratus, cumulus and cirrus - have a symmetry which is\ndisturbed by the addition of a fourth stage, represented by the nimbus.\nThis showed that there was need for a fifth stage, at the top of the\nseries, to establish a balanced polarity. We can now clear up this\nquestion of a fifth stage, as follows.\n\nIn the three actual cloud-forms, gravity and levity are more or less in\nequilibrium, but in the nimbus gravity predominates, and the\natmospheric vapour condenses accordingly into separate liquid bodies,\nthe drops of rain. The polar opposite of this process must therefore be\none in which cloud-vapour, under the dominating influence of levity,\npasses up through a transitional condition into a state of pure heat.\n\nSuch a conception by no means contradicts the findings of external\nresearch. For meteorology has come to know of a heat-mantle surrounding\nthe earth's atmosphere for which various hypothetical explanations have\nbeen advanced. Naturally, none of them envisages the possibility of\natmospheric substance changing into the heat-condition and back again.\nBut if we learn to look on the chain of cloud-forms as a 'spiritual\nladder', then we must expect the chain to conclude with a stage of pure\nheat, lying above the cirrus-sphere.9\n\nThe line of consideration pursued in the last part of this chapter has\nled us from certain observations in the plant kingdom, concerning the\ncoming into being of ponderable matter from 'nothing', to a\ncorresponding picture of the earth's meteorological sphere. When\ndiscussing the plant in this respect we found as an instance 'worth a\nthousand, bearing all within itself the case of Tillandsia and more\nparticularly the surprising appearance of phosphorus in it. Now, in the\nmeteorological realm it is once more phosphorus which gives us an\ninstance of this kind. For there is the well-known fact of the presence\nof phosphorus in conspicuous quantities in snow without a source being\ntraceable in the atmosphere whence this substance can have originated\nin ponderable condition. The phosphorus appearing in snow, therefore,\nbrings before our very eyes the fact that the heights of the atmosphere\nare a realm of procreation of matter. (In our next chapter we shall\nlearn what it is in phosphorus that makes it play this particular role\nin both fields of nature. What interests us in the present context is\nthe fact itself.)\n\n*\n\nThe knowledge we have now gained concerning the disappearance and\nappearance of physical water in the heights of the atmosphere will\nenable us to shake off one of the most characteristic errors to which\nthe onlooker-consciousness has succumbed in its estimation of nature.\nThis is the interpretation of thunderstorms, and particularly of\nlightning, which has held sway since the days of Benjamin Franklin.\n\nBefore developing our own picture of a thunderstorm let us recognize\nthat science has found it necessary to reverse the explanation so long\nin Vogue. Whereas it was formerly taken for granted - and the\nassumption was supposed to rest upon experimental proof - that the\ncondensing of atmospheric vapour which accompanied lightning was the\nconsequence of a release of electrical tension by the lightning, the\nview now held is that the electrical tension responsible for the\noccurrence of lightning is itself the effect of a sudden condensing\nprocess of atmospheric moisture.\n\nThe reason for this uncertainty is that the physical conditions in the\nsphere where lightning occurs, according to other experiences of\nelectric phenomena, actually exclude the formation of such high\ntensions as are necessary for the occurrence of discharges on the scale\nof lightning. If we look at this fact without scientific bias we are\nonce again reminded of the Hans Andersen child. We cannot help\nwondering how this child would behave in a physics class if the\nteacher, after vainly trying to produce a lightning-flash in miniature\nwith the help of an electrical machine, explained that the moisture\nprevalent in the air was responsible for the failure of the experiment,\nand that he would have to postpone it to a day when the air was drier.\nIt would scarcely escape the Hans Andersen child that the conditions\nannounced by the teacher as unfavourable to the production of an\nelectric spark by the machine, prevail in a much higher degree exactly\nwhere lightning, as a supposed electric spark, actually does occur.\n\nTo conclude from the presence of electric tensions in the earth's\natmosphere as an accompaniment of lightning, in the way first observed\nby Franklin, that lightning itself is an electrical process, is to be\nunder the same kind of illusion that led men to attribute electrical\ncharacteristics to the human soul because its activity in the body was\nfound to be accompanied by electrical processes in the latter. The\nidentification of lightning with the electric spark is a case of a\nconfusion between the upper and lower boundaries of nature,\ncharacteristic of the onlooker-consciousness. As such, it has stood in\nthe way of a real understanding both of non-electrical natural\nphenomena and of electricity itself.\n\nWhat we observe in lightning is really an instantaneous execution of a\nprocess which runs its course continually in the atmosphere, quietly\nand unnoticed. It is the process by which water reverts from the\nimponderable to the ponderable condition, after having been converted\nto the former through levity set in action by the sun (as usually\nhappens in a high degree just before a thunderstorm). We form a true\npicture of the course of a storm if we say that nature enables us to\nwitness a sublime display of the sudden bringing to birth of matter in\nearthbound form. What falls to the ground as rain (or hail) is\nsubstantially identical with what was perceptible to the eye, a moment\nbefore, as a majestic light-phenomenon. The accompanying electrical\noccurrence is the appropriate counter-event at nature's lower boundary.\nSince the two form part of a larger whole they necessarily occur\ntogether; but the electrical occurrence must not be identified with the\nevent in the heavens. The reason for their conjunction will become\nclear later, when we shall show how electrical polarity arises from the\npolarity between gravity and levity.\n\nIf one learns to view a thunderstorm in this way, its spiritual\nconnexion with the earth's volcanic processes becomes manifest; there\nis in fact a polar relationship between them. For just as in volcanic\nactivity heavy matter is suddenly and swiftly driven heavenwards under\nthe influence of levity, so in a storm does light matter stream\nearthwards under the influence of gravity.\n\nIt is this combination of kinship and polar opposition which led people\nof old to regard both lightning in the heights and seismic disturbances\nin the depths as signs of direct intervention by higher powers in the\naffairs of men. A trace of this old feeling lingers in the Greek word \u00ce\u00b8\u00ce\u00b5\u00ce\u00b9\u00ce\u00bf\u00ce\u00bd (theion),\ndivine, which was used to denote both lightning and sulphur. Influenced\nby the same conception, the Romans regarded as holy a spot where\nlightning had struck the earth; they even fenced it off to protect it\nfrom human contact. Note in this respect also the biblical report of\nthe event on Mount Sinai, mentioned before, telling of an interplay of\nvolcanic and meteorological phenomena as a sign of the direct\nintervention of the Godhead.\n\n1 See Chapter IV. The other title of the paper, 'Radiant Matter', will\ngain significance for us in a later context.\n\n2 Since the above was written, certain conclusions drawn from modern\nsubatomic research have led some astro-physicists to the idea that\nhydrogen is continuously created in the cosmos 'out of nothing'. This\ndoes not affect the considerations of the present chapter.\n\n3 Note the expression!\n\n4 For a vivid description of the interplay of both types of force in\nnature, see E. Carpenter's account of his experience of a tree in his\nPagan and Christian Creeds.\n\n5 Note how this picture of thermal expansion fits in with the one\nobtained for the Solfatara phenomenon when we took into account all\nthat is implicit in the latter,\n\n6 This throws light also on the problem of the use of chemicals as\nartificial fertilizers.\n\n7 See L. Kolisko: Wirksamkeit kleinster Entit\u00c3\u00a4ten ('Effects of Smallest\nEntities'), Stuttgart, 1922, an account of a series of experiments\nundertaken by the author at the Biological Institute of the Goetheanum\nfollowing suggestions by Rudolf Steiner. Her aim was to examine the\nbehaviour of matter on the way to and beyond the boundary of its\nponderable existence.\n\n8 Instead of using the trace-elements in mineral form, it is still\nbetter to use parts of certain plants with a strong 'functional\ntendency', specially prepared. This is done in the so-called\nBio-Dynamic method of farming and gardening, according to Rudolf\nSteiner's indications.\n\n9 Note, in this respect, the close of Goethe's poem dedicated to the\ncirrus-formation and the poem inspired by his sight of a waterfall in\nthe Bernese Alps as indications of the fact that he was himself aware\nof the water-rejuvenating process in the higher reaches of the\natmosphere.\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nMatter as Part of Nature's Alphabet\n\nIn the preceding chapter we drew attention to the fact that any\nspatially extended mass is under the sway of both gravity and levity.\nWe then saw that with the transition of matter from the solid via the\nliquid to the gaseous state, not only does the specific gravity of the\nsubstance decrease, but at the same time an increase takes place of\nwhat we might call 'specific levity'. In the gaseous state, therefore,\nwe find gravity-bound matter becoming so far levity-bound that it\nassumes the property of actively expanding in space.\n\nHaving once adopted the Goethean way of thinking-in-polarities, we may\nfeel sure that there is somewhere in nature a phenomenon which\nrepresents the polar opposite of the levity-gravity relationship\npeculiar to the gaseous state. In this latter state we find ponderable\nmatter so far brought under the sway of levity that its behaviour is of\na kind which van Helmont, when he first observed it, could not help\ndescribing as 'paradoxical'. Where, we must now ask, do we find\nimponderable essence so much under the sway of gravity that it shows\nthe correspondingly paradoxical features? In other words, where does\nnature show levity concentrated in a limited part of space - that is,\nin a condition characteristic of ponderable matter?\n\nSuch concentrations of levity do indeed exist in varied forms. One is\nthe 'warmth-body' represented by the blood-heat of the higher animals\nand man. There is, however, an occurrence of this kind also on the\npurely mineral level of nature, and it is this which has particular\nsignificance for our present study of matter. We meet it in all\nphysical substances which have the peculiarity of being combustible.\n\nOur next task is to study certain fundamentals in regard to the\ndifferent ways in which levity and gravity are found to be intertwined\nin combustible substances, manifesting through the difference of their\nrelation to the process of combustion - that is, the process by which\nlevity is restored to its original condition. It is the aim of the\npresent chapter to show that by doing justice to the imponderable\naspect of combustion, the way is opened to a view of the 'elements', as\nscientific chemistry understands them, which will be in line with our\ndynamic conception of matter.\n\nThere is nothing surprising in the fact that a new conception of the\nchemical element can arise from a re-study of the process of\ncombustion, if we remember that it was the picture of combustion,\ncharacteristic of the spectator-consciousness, which determined the\nconception of the chemical element as it prevails in modern science.\nLet us see how this conception came to pass historically in order to\nfind where we stand to-day.\n\n*\n\nWith the establishment of the knowledge of a state of physical matter\nwhich, as the definition ran, 'neither results from a combination of\nother physical substances nor is resolvable into such', the conviction\narose that man's searching mind had reached 'rock-bottom'. This\nconviction, however, was shaken when, with the discovery of radium, an\nelement became known whose property it is to disintegrate into two\nother elements, helium and lead. Although this did not force science to\nabandon the element-concept altogether, it became necessary to find a\nnew definition for it.\n\nThis definition was established by Professor W. Ostwald at the\nbeginning of the present century, when he stated that the chemical\nelement represents a condition of physical matter in which 'any\nchemical change results in an increase of weight'. In this way, the\nchemical concept of the element achieved a meaning which had actually\nbeen implicit in it from its first conception. For its very formation\nhad been the outcome of the Contra-Levitatem maxim. The following\nglance over the history of chemistry will show this.\n\nThe birth of chemistry as a science, in the modern sense, is closely\nconnected with a revolutionary change in the conception of what can be\ncalled the chemical arch-process-combustion, or, to use a more\nscientific term, oxidation. This change arose out of the\nContra-Levitatem maxim and the new conception of heat which this maxim\nrequired. In the old doctrine of the four Elements, Heat had been\nconceived as a manifestation of the element of Fire, and so, together\nwith Air, as belonging to the realm of the 'uncreated things'. Hence\nthe release of heat from created substance was always felt to be a\nsacred act, as is shown by the fire rites of old.\n\nModern man's conception of the same process is revealed in the answer\none invariably receives from both layman and scientist when they are\nasked what they understand by combustion. It is described as a process\nthrough which oxygen combines with the combustible substance. And yet\nthis side of combustion, first observed by J. Priestley (1771), is\nneither the one for the sake of which man produces combustion in the\nservice of his everyday life, nor is it at all observed by ordinary\nsense-perception. Nevertheless, to describe the obvious fact, that\ncombustion is liberation of heat from the combustible substance, will\nhardly occur to anyone to-day. This shows to what extent even the\nscientifically untrained consciousness in our time turns instinctively\nto the tangible or weighable side of nature, so that some effort is\nrequired to confess simply to what the eye and the other senses\nperceive.\n\nDuring the first hundred years after the establishment of the\nContra-Levitatem maxim, man's situation was in a certain sense the\nopposite of this. Then, people were struggling hard to get away from\nthe old concept which saw in combustion nothing but the liberation of a\nsuper-terrestrial element from earthly fetters. This struggle found\nexpression in a theory of heat which at that time greatly occupied\nscientific thinking. It is the so-called phlogiston-theory first\nproposed by the chemist Stahl (1660-1734).\n\nThis theory reveals the great uncertainty into which man's thinking\nabout the world of the senses had arrived at that time. Clinging to\nideas inherited from antiquity, man's consciousness was already so far\nrestricted to the forming of pure matter-bound concepts that he was\ntempted to conceive heat as a material element. To this heat-substance\nthe name 'phlogiston' was given. At the same time, under the\nContra-Levitatem maxim, it was impossible to conceive of substance\nexcept as ponderable substance. This led to the conviction that\nwhenever heat appears as a result of some treatment of matter\n(combustion or friction), the material substance subject to this\ntreatment must lose weight.\n\nThe experiments of Lavoisier (1743-94), which he undertook following\nPriestley's discovery of the role of oxygen in combustion, put an end\nto this theory. These experiments are rightly regarded as the actual\nbeginning of modern chemistry. In Lavoisier we find an observer of\nnature who was predominantly interested in what the scales could tell\nabout changes in substances. It was from this aspect that he\ninvestigated the process of oxidation. What had already been observed\nby a few others, though without being taken seriously by them, he found\nconfirmed - that, contrary to the phlogiston - theory, matter does not\nlose weight through oxidation but gains weight. Further experiments\nproved beyond doubt that in all chemical reactions the total weight of\nthe components remained constant. However much the substance resulting\nfrom the chemical reaction of others might differ from these, its\nweight always proved to be the same as their total weight. What else\ncould be concluded from the apparent unchangeability of weight\nthroughout all the chemical happenings in nature than that the\nponderable world-content was of eternal duration? We see here how much\nmodern chemistry and its concept of the chemical element has been ruled\nright from the start by the one-sided gravity concept of the\nonlooker-consciousness.\n\nTogether with the overcoming of the fallacy that heat is a ponderable\nsubstance (full certainty was indeed established only some time later\nthrough the investigations of Davy and Rumford into heat generated by\nfriction) - human thinking was led into a one-sided conception of\ncombustion which was merely the opposite of the one held earlier.\nWhereas formerly man's mind was pre-eminently occupied by the\nliberation of the imponderable element through combustion, it now\nturned entirely to what goes on in the ponderable realm.\n\nAs we have seen, one outcome of this one-sided view of combustion was\nthe modern concept of the chemical element. To-day our task is to\novercome this concept by taking a step corresponding to the one that\nled to it, that is, by a study of combustibility which does justice to\nboth sides of the process involved.\n\n*\n\nAs objects of our observation we choose three chemical elements all of\nwhich have the property of combustibility: Sulphur, Phosphorus, and\nCarbon. As will become clear, our choice of these three is determined\nby the fact that together they represent an instance 'worth a thousand,\nbearing all within itself.\n\nWe begin by comparing Sulphur and Phosphorus. In their elementary state\nthey have in common the fact that any chemical change is bound up with\nan increase in their weight. In this state both are combustible. Apart\nfrom this similarity, there is a great difference between them, as the\nway of storing them illustrates. For while elementary sulphur needs\nonly an ordinary container, phosphorus has to be kept under cover of\nwater in order to prevent the atmospheric oxygen from touching it. The\nreason is that the combustible state is natural for sulphur, but not\nfor phosphorus, the latter's natural state being the oxidized one. This\ndifferent relationship of sulphur and phosphorus to the oxidizable\n(reduced) and the oxidized state manifests itself in all their chemical\nreactions.\n\nTo object here that the different reactions of the two substances are\ndue only to the difference of their respective temperatures of\nignition, and that above these temperatures the difference will more or\nless disappear (all combustible substances at a sufficiently high\ntemperature becoming more or less similar to phosphorus), would not\nmeet the argument. For what matters here is just how the particular\nsubstance behaves at that level of temperature on which the earth\nunfolds her normal planetary activity. To ignore this would be to\nviolate one of the principles we have adopted from Goethe, which is\nnever to derive fundamental concepts of nature from observations\nobtained under artificial conditions.\n\nSulphur and phosphorus are thus seen to represent two polarically\nopposite tendencies with regard to the levity-gravity coherence which\nbreaks up when combustion occurs. In the case of sulphur, the\nponderable and imponderable entities appear to cling together; in the\ncase of phosphorus, they seem to be anxious to part. These two\ndifferent tendencies - which are characteristic of many other\nsubstances and represent a basic factor in the chemical happenings of\nthe earth - are in their own way a pair of opposites. Since each of\nthem represents in itself a relationship between two poles of a\npolarity-gravity and levity - so in their mutual relationship they\nrepresent a 'polarity of polarities'. In Fig. 4 an attempt has been\nmade to represent this fact by a symbolic diagram.\n\nIn this figure the shaded part represents the imponderable, the black\npart the ponderable entity. In the left-hand symbol both are shown in a\nrelationship corresponding to the one characteristic of sulphur; in the\nright-hand figure the relationship is characteristic of phosphorus.\n\nHere we have an instance of a kind of polarity which belongs to the\nfundamentals of nature as much as does the levity-gravity polarity\nitself. Wherever two poles of a polarity meet, they have the\npossibility of being connected in two ways which in themselves are\nagain polarically opposite. Our further studies will bring up various\nother instances of this kind, and will show us that part of the\nepistemological trouble in which science finds itself to-day results\nfrom the fact that the scientific mind has been unable to distinguish\nbetween the two kinds of polarity - that is, as we shall say\nhenceforth, between polarities of the first order (primary polarities)\nand polarities of the second order (secondary polarities).\n\nIn actual fact, the distinction between the two orders of polarity has\nbeen implicit in the descriptions given in this book right from the\nstart. Remember, in this respect, how the picture of the threefold\npsycho-physical structure of man, which has proved a master-key for\nunlocking the most varied scientific problems, was first built up.\nThere, 'body' and 'soul' represented a polarity which is obviously one\nof the first order. By our observation of the human organism, in\nrelation both to the different functions of the soul and to the\ndifferent main organic systems, we further recognized the fact that the\nways in which body and soul are interrelated are polarically opposite\nin the region of the brain and nerves and in the region of the\nmetabolic processes, which again results in two polarically opposite\nactivities of the soul, mental on the one hand, and volitional on the\nother. In what we called the pole-of-consciousness and the pole-of-life\nwe therefore have a clear polarity of the second order, and so in\neverything that is connected with these two, as our further discussions\nwill show.\n\nRemembering that our first occasion to concern ourselves overtly with\nthe concept of polarity was in connexion with the four elements, we may\nnow ask whether the old doctrine did not embrace some conception of\nsecondary polarity as well as of primary polarity, and if so, whether\nthis might not prove as helpful in clarifying our own conceptions as\nwas the primary polarity, cold-warm. That this is indeed so, the\nfollowing description will show.\n\nBeside the two qualities cold and warm the doctrine of the four\nelements pointed to two further qualities forming in themselves a pair\nof opposites, namely, dry and moist. Just as the four elements were\nseen as grouping themselves in two pairs, Fire-Air on the one hand,\n\nWater-Earth on the other, the first being characterized by the quality\nwarm, the second by cold, so were they seen to form two opposing\ngroups, Fire-Earth and Air-Water, of which one was characterized by the\nquality dry, the other by the quality moist. Fig. 5 shows how the four\nelements in their totality were seen to arise out of the various\ncombinations of the four qualities.\n\nIn this diagram the element Earth appears as a combination of the\nqualities Dry and Cold; Water of Cold and Moist; Air of Moist and Warm;\nFire of Warm and Dry. As a result, Earth and Fire, besides representing\nopposite poles, are also neighbours in the diagram. Here we encounter a\npicture characteristic of all earlier ways of looking at the world: the\nmembers of a system of phenomena, when ranked in due order of\nsuccession, were seen to turn back on themselves circle-wise - or, more\nprecisely, spiral-wise.\n\nIn what way do the qualities dry and moist form a polarity of the\nsecond order, and how do they represent the chemical polarity\ncharacteristic of sulphur and phosphorus as well as all the other\nsecondary polarities dealt with in this book? To understand this we\nmust submit the couple dry-moist to the same scrutiny as we applied to\ncold and warm in our earlier discussion of the four elements.\n\nIt lies in the nature of things that we instinctively associate these\nqualities with the solid and liquid states of matter respectively. This\ncertainly agrees with the diagram given above, where the elements Earth\nand Water are distinguished precisely by their connexion with these two\ncharacteristics. Yet, in addition to this, the qualities dry and moist\nare found to be characteristic also of Fire and Air respectively,\nthough with the difference that they are linked not with the quality\ncold, as in the case of the lower elements, but with the quality warm.\nSo we see that the concepts Dry and Moist, as they lived in the old\npicturing of them, mean a good deal more than we understand by them\nto-day.\n\nThat these two respective attributes do not belong exclusively to the\nsolid and the liquid states of matter can be seen at once by observing\nthe different reactions of certain liquids to a solid surface which\nthey touch. One need only recall the difference between water and\nquicksilver. If water runs over a surface it leaves a trail;\nquicksilver does not. Water clings to the side of a vessel; again,\nquicksilver does not. A well-known consequence of this difference is\nthat in a narrow tube the surface of the liquid - the so-called\nmeniscus - stands higher at the circumference than at the centre in the\ncase of water; with quicksilver it is just the reverse. In the sense of\nthe two qualities, dry and moist, water is a 'moist' liquid;\nquicksilver a 'dry' one. On the other hand, the quality of moistness in\na solid substance appears in the adhesive power of glue.\n\nLet us now see how, in accordance with the scheme given in Fig. 5, the\nfour qualities in their respective combinations constitute the four\nelements. From the description we shall give here it will be realized\nhow little such ancient schemes were based on abstract thoughts, and\nhow much they were read from the facts of the world. Moreover, a\ncomparison with our description of the four stages of matter, given in\nthe previous chapter, would show how far the conceptual content of the\nold doctrine covers the corresponding facts when they are read by the\neye of the modern reader in nature, notwithstanding the changes nature\nhas undergone in the meantime.\n\nThe element Fire reveals its attributes of warm and dry in a behaviour\nwhich combines a tendency to dynamic expansion with a disinclination to\nenter into lasting combination with the other elements.\nCorrespondingly, the behaviour of the element Earth unites a tendency\nto contraction with an inclination to fall out of conjunction with the\nother elements. Thus the attribute, dry, belongs equally to pure flame\nand sheer dust, though for opposite reasons. Distinct from both these\nelements are the middle elements Water and Air; with them the\nattribute, moist, comes to expression in their tendency both to\ninterpenetrate mutually and to absorb their neighbours - the liquid\nelement absorbing solid matter and the aeriform element taking up heat.\nWhat distinguishes them is that water has a 'cold' nature, from which\nit gains its density; while air has a 'warm' nature, to which it owes\nits tendency to expand.\n\nIn the most general sense, the quality 'moist' applies wherever two\ndifferent entities are drawn into some kind of intimate relationship\nwith one another; 'dry' applies where no such relationship prevails.\nSeen thus, they reveal themselves as a true polarity of the second\norder, for they describe the relationship between two entities which\nalready exists, and, in the case of the four elements, are themselves a\npolarity. As such, they characterize precisely those polar\nrelationships of the second order on which the threefold structure of\nman, we found, is based. For from the physical, as much as from the\nsuperphysical aspect the nerve-system represents the 'dry' part, and\nthe metabolic system the 'moist' part of man's being. The same is true\nof the relationship between the soul and the surrounding world at both\npoles. Here we have the antithesis between the 'dry'\nonlooker-relationship of the intellect to the world, conceived as a\nmere picture whose essence remains outside the boundaries of the soul,\nand the 'moist' intermingling of the will-force with the actual forces\nof the world.\n\n*\n\nIt needs no further explanation to realize that sulphur and phosphorus,\nby the way in which levity and gravity are interlinked in each of them,\nare representatives of these very qualities 'moist' and 'dry'. As such\nthey are universally active bearers of these qualities in every realm\nof nature's varied activities, as their physical presence in such cases\nconfirms. Consequently, sulphur is found in the protein-substances of\nthe human body wherever they are bearers of metabolic processes, while\nthe presence of phosphorus is characteristic of the nerves and bones.\n(Although its full significance will become clear to us only later, the\nfact may here be mentioned that the composition of the bone-material in\nthe different parts of man's skeleton, as scientific analysis has\nshown, is such that the content of phosphate of calcium in proportion\nto carbonate of calcium is higher in all those parts which are\nspherically shaped, such as the upper parts of the skull and the upper\nends of the limb-bones.)\n\nIn particular the plant reveals clearly the functional significance of\nphosphorus as the bearer of the quality 'dry'. For its healthy growth\nthe plant needs the quality 'dry' in two places: at the root, where it\nunites with the element earth, and in the flower, where it opens itself\nto the fire element. Root and flower as distinct from the middle parts\nof the plant are both 'dry' formations. In a still higher degree this\napplies to the seed, which must separate itself from the mother plant\nto produce a separate new organism. All these are functions in the\nplant which, as was mentioned in the last chapter, require phosphorus\nfor their healthy performance.\n\nOur examination of phosphorus and sulphur from the functional point of\nview throws light also on their effect on the alternating conditions of\nwaking and sleeping, necessary for the life of the higher organisms.\nThis rhythmic change, which affects especially the nervous system, is\nan alternation between the qualities dry and moist. Disturbance of this\nalternation in one direction or the other makes it difficult for the\norganism to react in full wakefulness or normal sleep. It follows that\ntreatment with phosphorus or sulphur in suitable preparations,\naccording to the nature of the disturbance, can be beneficial.\n\nIf we study the functional properties of such substances we see that\nthey can teach us a rational understanding of therapeutic practices,\nwhich otherwise must remain mere results of trial and error. The same\napplies to phosphorus and sulphur treatment in cases where in the\nfunctionally 'dry' bone system or in the functionally 'moist' metabolic\nsystem of the organism the wrong quality predominates. If the bones\nremain too 'moist' there is a tendency to rickets; against this,\ncertain fish-oils are a well-known remedy on account of their highly\nphosphoric nature. Conversely, the application of sulphur can help\nwhere weakness of the metabolic forces produces rheumatic or gouty\nsediments in parts of the body whose function is to serve by their\nmobility the activities of the will. In this case the abnormal\npredominance of the quality 'dry' can be counteracted by the medical\napplication of sulphur.\n\n*\n\nHaving observed the action of sulphur and phosphorus in the laboratory\nand in living organisms, we will now turn to phenomena of a\nmacrotelluric nature which reveal the participation of sulphur and\nphosphorus. There, sulphur points unmistakably to the earth's\nvolcanism. It is a fact that, wherever mineral sulphur occurs in the\nearth, there we find a spot of former or present volcanic activity.\nSimilarly, there is no such spot on the earth without sulphur being\npresent in one form or another. Hence the name Solfatara for the\nfumarole described in Chapter IX.\n\nOnce again it is the Solfatara which offers us a phenomenon, this time\nin connexion with the special role sulphur plays in its activities,\nwhich, regarded with the eye of the spirit, assumes the significance of\nan instance 'worth a thousand'.\n\nIn spite of the very high temperature of the sulphurous fumes emitted\nfrom various crevices on the edge of the Solfatara, it is possible,\nthanks to the complete dryness of the fumes, to crawl a little way into\nthe interior of these crevices. Not far away from the opening of the\ncrevice, where the hot fumes touch the cooler rock surface, one is met\nby a very beautiful spectacle - namely, the continual forming, out of\nnothing as it seems, of glittering yellow sulphur crystals, suspended\nin delicate chains from the ceiling.\n\nIn this transformation of sulphurous substance from a higher material\nstate, nearer to levity, to that of the solid crystal, we may behold an\nimage of the generation of matter. For every physical substance and,\ntherefore, every chemical element, exists originally as a pure function\nin the dynamic processes of the universe. Wherever, as a result of the\naction of gravity, such a function congeals materially, there we meet\nit in the form of a physical-material substance. In the same sense,\nsulphur and phosphorus, in their real being, are pure functions, and\nwhere they occur as physical substances, there we meet these functions\nin their congealed state.\n\nOne of the characteristics of the volcanic regions of the earth is the\nhealing effect of substances found there. Fango-mud, for instance,\nwhich was mentioned in the last chapter, is a much-used remedy against\nrheumatism. This is typical of functional sulphur. We may truly\ncharacterize the earth's volcanism as being qualitatively sulphurous.\nIt is the sulphur-function coming to expression through a higher degree\nof 'moistness' in the relationship between gravity and levity which\ndistinguishes volcanic regions from the rest of the otherwise 'dry'\nearth's crust.\n\n*\n\nTo develop a corresponding picture of the function of phosphorus, we\nmust try to find the macrotelluric sphere where this function operates\nsimilarly to that of sulphur in volcanism. From what has been said in\nthe last chapter it will be evident that we must look to the\natmosphere, as the site of snow-formation. It is this process which we\nmust now examine more closely.\n\nIn the atmosphere, to begin with, we find water in a state of vapour,\nin which the influence of the terrestrial gravity-field is\ncomparatively weak. Floating in this state, the vapour condenses and\ncrystallization proceeds. Obeying the pull of gravity, more and more\ncrystals unite in their descent and gradually form flakes of varying\nsizes. The nearer they come to earth, the closer they fall, until at\nlast on the ground they form an unbroken, more or less spherical,\ncover.\n\nImagine a snow-covered field glistening in the sun on a clear, quiet\nwinter's day. As far as we can see, there is no sign of life, no\nmovement. Here water, which is normally fluid and, in its liquid state,\nserves the ever-changing life-processes, covers the earth in the form\nof millions of separate crystals shaped with mathematical exactitude,\neach of which breaks and reflects in a million rays the light from the\nsun (Plate V). A contrast, indeed, between this quiet emergence of\nforms from levity into gravity, and the form-denying volcanism surging\nup out of gravity into levity, as shown by the ever-restless activity\nof the Solfatara. As we found volcanism to be a macrotelluric\nmanifestation of functional sulphur, we find in the process of\nsnow-formation a corresponding manifestation of functional phosphorus.\n\nIn the formation of snow, nature shows us in statu agendi a process\nwhich we otherwise meet in the earth only in its finished results,\ncrystallization. We may, therefore, rightly look upon snow-formation as\nan ur-phenomenon in this sphere of nature's activities. As such it\nallows us to learn something concerning the origin in general of the\ncrystalline realm of the earth; and, vice versa, our insight into the\n'becoming' of this realm will enable us to see more clearly the\nuniversal function of which phosphorus is the main representative among\nthe physical substances of the earth.\n\nIt has puzzled many an observer that crystals occur in the earth with\ndirections of their main axes entirely independent of the direction of\nthe earthly pull of gravity. Plate VI shows the photograph of a cluster\nof Calcite crystals as an example of this phenomenon. It tells us that\ngravity can have no effect on the formation of the crystal itself. This\nriddle is solved by the phenomenon of snow-formation provided we allow\nit to speak to us as an ur-phenomenon. For it then tells us that matter\nmust be in a state of transition from lightness into heaviness if it is\nto appear in crystalline form. The crystals in the earth, therefore,\nmust have originated at a time when the relation between levity and\ngravity on the earth was different from what it is, in this sphere,\nto-day.\n\nThe same language is spoken by the property of transparency which is so\npredominant among crystals. One of the fundamental characteristics of\nheavy solid matter is to resist light - in other words, to be opaque.\nExposed to heat, however, physical substance loses this feature to the\nextent that at the border of its ponderability all matter becomes\npervious to light. Now, in the transparent crystal matter retains this\nkinship to light even in its solid state.\n\nA similar message comes from the, often so mysterious, colouring of the\ncrystals. Here again nature offers us an instance which, 'worth a\nthousand', reveals a secret that would otherwise remain veiled. We\nrefer to the pink crystals of tourmaline, whose colour comes from a\nsmall admixture of lithium. This element, which belongs to the group of\nthe alkaline metals, does not form coloured salts (a property only\nshown by the heavier metals). If exposed to a flame, however, it endows\nit with a definite colour which is the same as that of the\nlithium-coloured tourmaline. Read as a letter in nature's script, this\nfact tells us that precious stones with their flame-like colours are\ncharacterized by having kept something of the nature that was theirs\nbefore they coalesced into ponderable existence. In fact, they are\n'frozen flames'.\n\nIt is this fact, known from ancient intuitive experience, which\nprompted man of old to attribute particular spiritual significance to\nthe various precious stones of the earth and to use them\ncorrespondingly in his rituals.\n\nCrystallization, seen thus in its cosmic aspect, shows a dynamic\norientation which is polarically opposite to that of the earth's\nseismic activities. Just as in the latter we observe levity taking hold\nof ponderable matter and moving it in a direction opposite to the pull\nof gravity, so in crystallization we see imponderable matter passing\nover from levity into gravity. And just as we found in volcanism and\nrelated processes a field of activity of 'functional sulphur', so we\nfound in snow-formation and related processes a field of activity of\n'functional phosphorus'. Both fields are characterized by an\ninteraction between gravity and levity, this interaction being of\nopposite nature in each of them.\n\nHere, again, sulphur and phosphorus appear as bearers of a polarity of\nthe second order which springs from the two polarically opposite ways\nof interaction between the poles of the polarity of the first order:\nlevity-gravity.\n\n*\n\nAs in man there is a third system, mediating between the two polar\nsystems of his organism, so between sulphur and phosphorus there is a\nthird element which in all its characteristics holds a middle place\nbetween them and is the bearer of a corresponding function. This\nelement is carbon.\n\nTo see this we need only take into consideration carbon's relationship\nto oxidation and reduction respectively. As it is natural for sulphur\nto be in the reduced state, and for phosphorus to be in the oxidized\nstate, so it is in the nature of carbon to be related to both states\nand therefore to oscillate between them. By its readiness to change\nover from the oxidized to the reduced state, it can serve the plant in\nthe assimilation of light, while by its readiness to make the reverse\nchange it serves man and animal in the breathing process. We breathe in\noxygen from the air; the oxygen circulates through the blood-stream and\npasses out again in conjunction with carbon, as carbon dioxide, when we\nexhale. In the process whereby the plants reduce the carbon dioxide\nexhaled by man and animal, while the latter again absorb with their\nfood the carbon produced in the form of organic matter by the plant, we\nsee carbon moving to and fro between the oxidized and the reduced\nconditions.\n\nWithin the plant itself, too, carbon acts as functionary of the\nalternation between oxidation and reduction. During the first half of\nthe year, when vegetation is unfolding, there is a great reduction\nprocess of oxidized carbon, while in the second half of the year, when\nthe withering process prevails, a great deal of the previously reduced\ncarbon passes into the oxidized condition. As this is connected with\nexhaling and inhaling of oxygen through carbon, carbon can be regarded\nas having the function of the lung-organ of the earth. Logically\nenough, we find carbon playing the same role in the middle part of the\nthreefold human organism.\n\nAnother indication of the midway position of carbon is its ability to\ncombine as readily with hydrogen as with oxygen, and, in these polar\ncombinations, even to combine with itself. In this latter form it\nprovides the basis of the innumerable organic substances in nature, and\nserves as the 'building stones' of the body-substances of living\norganisms. Among these, the carbohydrates produced by the plants show\nclearly the double function of carbon in the way it alternates between\nthe states of starch and sugar.\n\nWhen the plant absorbs through its leaves carbonic acid from the air\nand condenses it into the multiple grains of starch with their peculiar\nstructure characteristic for each plant species, we have a biological\nevent which corresponds to the formation of snow in the meteorological\nrealm. Here we see carbon at work in a manner functionally akin to that\nof phosphorus. Sugar, on the other hand, has its place in the saps of\nthe plants which rise through the stems and carry up with them the\nmineral substances of the earth. Here we find carbon acting in a way\nakin to the function of sulphur.\n\nThis twofold nature of carbon makes itself noticeable down to the very\nmineral sphere of the earth. There we find it in the fact that carbon\noccurs both in the form of the diamond, the hardest of all mineral\nsubstances, and also in the form of the softest, graphite. Here also,\nin the diamond's brilliant transparency, and in the dense blackness of\ngraphite, carbon reveals its twofold relation to light.\n\nIn Fig. 6 an attempt has been made to represent diagrammatically the\nfunction of Carbon in a way corresponding to the previous\nrepresentation of the functions of Sulphur and Phosphorus.\n\n*\n\nBy adding carbon to our observations on the polarity of sulphur and\nphosphorus we have been led to a triad of functions each of which\nexpresses a specific interplay of levity and gravity. That we encounter\nthree such functions is not accidental or arbitrary. Rather is it based\non the fact that the interaction of forces emanating from a polarity of\nthe first order, produces a polarity of the second order, whose poles\nestablish between them a sphere of balance.\n\nThrough our study of levity and gravity in the matter-processes of the\nearth, a perspective thus opens up into a structural principle of\nnature which is actually not new to us. We encountered it at the very\nbeginning of this book when we discussed the threefold psycho-physical\norder of man's being.\n\nIn the days of an older intuitive nature-wisdom man knew of a basic\ntriad of functions as well as he knew of the four elementary qualities.\nWe hear a last echo of this in the Middle Ages, when people striving\nfor a deeper understanding of nature spoke of the trinity of Salt,\nMercury and Sulphur. What the true alchemists, as these seekers of\nknowledge called themselves, meant by this was precisely the same as\nthe conception we have here reached through our own way of studying\nmatter ('Salt' standing for 'functional phosphorus', 'Mercury' for\n'functional carbon'). Only the alchemist's way was a different one.\n\nThis is not the place to enter into a full examination of the meaning\nand value of alchemy in its original legitimate sense (which must not\nbe confused with activities that later on paraded under the same name).\nOnly this we will say - that genuine alchemy owes its origin to an\nimpulse which, at a time when the onlooker-consciousness first arose,\nled to the foundation of a school for the development of an intuitive\nrelationship of the soul with the world of the senses. This was to\nenable man to resist the effects of the division which evolution was\nabout to set up in his soul-life - the division which was to give him,\non the one hand, an abstract experience of his own self, divorced from\nthe outer world, and on the other a mere onlooker's experience of that\nouter world. As a result of these endeavours, concepts were formed\nwhich in their literal meaning seemed to apply merely to outwardly\nperceptible substances, while in truth they stood for the spiritual\nfunctions represented by those substances, both within and outside the\nhuman organism.\n\nThus the alchemist who used these concepts thought of them first as\nreferring to his own soul, and to the inner organic processes\ncorresponding to the various activities of his soul. When speaking of\nSalt he meant the regulated formative activity of his thinking, based\non the salt-forming process in his nervous system. When he spoke of\nMercury he meant the quickly changing emotional life of the soul and\nthe corresponding activities of the rhythmic processes of the body.\nLastly, Sulphur meant the will activities of his soul and the\ncorresponding metabolic processes of the body. Only through studying\nthese functions within himself, and through re-establishing the harmony\nbetween them which had been theirs in the beginning, and from which, he\nfelt, man had deviated in the course of time, did the alchemist hope to\ncome to an understanding of their counterparts in the external cosmos.\n\nOlder alchemical writings, therefore, can be understood only if\nprescriptions which seem to signify certain chemical manipulations are\nread as instructions for certain exercises of the soul, or as advices\nfor the redirection of corresponding processes in the body. For\ninstance, if an alchemist gave directions for a certain treatment of\nSulphur, Mercury and Salt, with the assertion that by carrying out\nthese directions properly, one would obtain Aurum (gold), he really\nspoke of a method to direct the thinking, feeling and willing\nactivities of the soul in such a way as to gain true Wisdom.1\n\n*\n\nAs in the case of the concepts constituting the doctrine of the four\nelements, we have represented here the basic alchemical concepts not\nonly because of their historical significance, but because, as\ningredients of a still functional conception of nature, they assume new\nsignificance in a science which seeks to develop, though from different\nstarting-points, a similar conception. As will be seen in our further\nstudies, these concepts prove a welcome enrichment of the language in\nwhich we must try to express our readings in nature.\n\n1 Roger Bacon in the thirteenth, and Berthold Schwartz in the\nfourteenth century, are reputed to have carried out experiments by\nmixing physical salt (in the form of the chemically labile saltpetre)\nwith physical sulphur and - after some initial attempts with various\nmetals - with charcoal, and then exposing the mixture to the heat of\nphysical fire. The outcome of this purely materialistic interpretation\nof the three alchemical concepts was not the acquisition of wisdom, or,\nas Schwartz certainly had hoped, of gold, but of ... gunpowder!\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nSpace and Counter-Space\n\nWith the introduction, in Chapter X, of the peripheral type of\nforce-field which appertains to levity as the usual central one does to\ngravity, we are compelled to revise our conception of space. For in a\nspace of a kind we are accustomed to conceive, that is, the\nthree-dimensional, Euclidean space, the existence of such a field with\nits characteristic of increasing in strength in the outward direction\nis a paradox, contrary to mathematical logic.\n\nThis task, which in view of our further observations of the actions of\nthe levity-gravity polarity in nature we must now tackle, is, however,\nby no means insoluble. For in modern mathematics thought-forms are\nalready present which make it possible to develop a space-concept\nadequate to levity. As referred to in Chapter I, it was Rudolf Steiner\nwho first pointed to the significance in this respect of the branch of\nmodern mathematics known as Projective Geometry. He showed that\nProjective Geometry, if rightly used, carries over the mind from the\ncustomary abstract to a new concrete treatment of mathematical\nconcepts. The following example will serve to explain, to start with,\nwhat we mean by saying that mathematics has hitherto been used\nabstractly.\n\nOne of the reasons why the world-picture developed by Einstein in his\nTheory of Relativity deserves to be acknowledged as a step forward in\ncomparison with the picture drawn by classical physics, lies in the\nfact that the old conception of three-dimensional space as a kind of\n'cosmic container', extending in all directions into infinity and\nfilled, as it were, with the content of the physical universe, is\nreplaced by a conception in which the structure of space results from\nthe laws interrelating this content. Our further discussion will show\nthat this indeed is the way along which, to-day, mathematical thought\nmust move in order to cope with universal reality.\n\nHowever, for reasons discussed earlier, Einstein was forced to conceive\nall events in the universe after the model of gravity as observable on\nthe earth. In this way he arrived at a space-structure which possesses\nneither the three-dimensionality nor the rectilinear character of\nso-called Euclidean space - a space-picture which, though\nmathematically consistent, is incomprehensible by the human mind. For\nnothing exists in our mind that could enable us to experience as a\nreality a space-time continuum of three dimensions which is curved\nwithin a further dimension.\n\nThis outcome of Einstein's endeavours results from the fact that he\ntried by means of gravity-bound thought to comprehend universal\nhappenings of which the true causes are non-gravitational. A thinking\nthat has learnt to acknowledge the existence of levity must indeed\npursue precisely the opposite direction. Instead of freezing time down\ninto spatial dimension, in order to make it fit into a world ruled by\nnothing but gravity, we must develop a conception of space sufficiently\nfluid to let true time have its place therein. We shall see how such a\nprocedure will lead us to a space-concept thoroughly conceivable by\nhuman common sense, provided we are prepared to overcome the\nonlooker-standpoint in mathematics also.\n\nEinstein owed the possibility of establishing his space-picture to a\ncertain achievement of mathematical thinking in modern times. As we\nhave seen, one of the peculiarities of the onlooker-consciousness\nconsists in its being devoid of all connexion with reality. The process\nof thinking thereby gained a degree of freedom which did not exist in\nformer ages. In consequence, mathematicians were enabled in the course\nof the nineteenth century to conceive the most varied space-systems\nwhich were all mathematically consistent and yet lacked all relation to\nexternal existence. A considerable number of space-systems have thus\nbecome established among which there is the system that served Einstein\nto derive his space-time concept. Some of them have been more or less\nfully worked out, while in certain instances all that has been done is\nto show that they are mathematically conceivable. Among these there is\none which in all its characteristics is polarically opposite to the\nEuclidean system, and which is destined for this reason to become the\nspace-system of levity. It is symptomatic of the remoteness from\nreality of mathematical thinking in the onlooker-age that precisely\nthis system has so far received no special attention.1\n\nFor the purpose of this book it is not necessary to expound in detail\nwhy modern mathematical thinking has been led to look for thought-forms\nother than those of classical geometry. It is enough to remark that for\nquite a long time there had been an awareness of the fact that the\nconsistency of Euclid's definitions and proofs fails as soon as one has\nno longer to do with finite geometrical entities, but with figures\nwhich extend into infinity, as for instance when the properties of\nparallel straight lines come into question. For the concept of infinity\nwas foreign to classical geometrical thinking. Problems of the kind\nwhich had defeated Euclidean thinking became soluble directly human\nthinking was able to handle the concept of infinity.\n\nWe shall now indicate some of the lines of geometrical thought which\nfollow from this.\n\n*\n\nLet us consider a straight line extending without limits in either\ndirection. Projective geometry is able to state that a point moving\nalong this line in one direction will eventually return from the other.\nTo see this, we imagine two straight lines a and b intersecting at P.\nOne of these lines is fixed (a); the other (b) rotates uniformly about\nC. Fig. 7 indicates the rotation of b by showing it in a number of\npositions with the respective positions of its point of intersection\nwith a (P1, P2. . .). We observe this point moving along a, as a result\nof the rotation of b, until, when both lines are parallel, it reaches\ninfinity. As a result of the continued rotation of b, however, P does\nnot remain in infinity, but returns along a from the other side. We\nfind here two forms of movement linked together - the rotational\nmovement of a line (b) on a point (C), and the progressive movement of\na point (P) along a line (a). The first movement is continuous, and\nobservable throughout within finite space. Therefore the second\nmovement must be continuous as well, even though it partly escapes our\nobservation. Hence, when P disappears into infinity on one side of our\nown point of observation, it is at the same time in infinity on the\nother side. In order words, an unlimited straight line has only one\npoint at infinity.\n\nIt is clear that, in order to become familiar with this aspect of\ngeometry, one must grow together in inward activity with the happening\nwhich is contained in the above description. What we therefore intend\nby giving such a description is to provide an opportunity for a\nparticular mental exercise, just as when we introduced Goethe's botany\nby describing a number of successive leaf-formations. Here, as much as\nthere, it is the act of 're-creating' that matters.\n\nThe following exercise will help us towards further clarity concerning\nthe nature of geometrical infinity.\n\nWe imagine ourselves in the centre of a sphere which we allow to expand\nuniformly on all sides. Whilst the inner wall of this sphere withdraws\nfrom us into ever greater distances, it grows flatter and flatter\nuntil, on reaching infinite distance, it turns into a plane. We thus\nfind ourselves surrounded everywhere by a surface which, in the strict\nmathematical sense, is a plane, and is yet one and the same surface on\nall sides. This leads us to the conception of the plane at infinity as\na self-contained entity although it expands infinitely in all\ndirections.\n\nThis property of a plane at infinity, however, is really a property of\nany plane. To realize this, we must widen our conception of infinity by\nfreeing it from a certain one-sidedness still connected with it. This\nwe do by transferring ourselves into the infinite plane and envisaging,\nnot the plane from the point, but the point from the plane. This\noperation, however, implies something which is not obvious to a mind\naccustomed to the ordinary ways of mathematical reasoning. It therefore\nrequires special explanation.\n\nIn the sense of Euclidean geometry, a plane is the sum-total of\ninnumerable single points. To take up a position in a plane, therefore,\nmeans to imagine oneself at one point of the plane, with the latter\nextending around in all directions to infinity. Hence the journey from\nany point in space to a plane is along a straight line from one point\nto another. In the case of the plane being at infinity, it would be a\njourney along a radius of the infinitely large sphere from its centre\nto a point at its circumference.\n\nIn projective geometry the operation is of a different character. Just\nas we arrived at the infinitely large sphere by letting a finite sphere\ngrow, so must we consider any finite sphere as having grown from a\nsphere with infinitely small extension; that is, from a point. To\ntravel from the point to the infinitely distant plane in the sense of\nprojective geometry, therefore, means that we have first to identify\nourselves with the point and 'become' the plane by a process of uniform\nexpansion in all directions.\n\nAs a result of this we do not arrive at one point in the plane, with\nthe latter extending round us on all sides, but we are present in the\nplane as a whole everywhere. No point in it can be characterized as\nhaving any distance, whether finite or infinite, from us. Nor is there\nany sense in speaking of the plane itself as being at infinity. For any\nplane will allow us to identify ourselves with it in this way. And any\nsuch plane can be given the character of a plane at infinity by\nrelating it to a point infinitely far away from it (i.e. from us).\n\nHaving thus dropped the one-sided conception of infinity, we must look\nfor another characterization of the relationship between a point and a\nplane which are infinitely distant from one another. This requires,\nfirst of all, a proper characterization of Point and Plane in\nthemselves.\n\nConceived dynamically, as projective geometry requires, Point and Plane\nrepresent a pair of opposites, the Point standing for utmost\ncontraction, the Plane for utmost expansion. As such, they form a\npolarity of the first order. Both together constitute Space. Which sort\nof space this is, depends on the relationship in which they are\nenvisaged. By positing the point as the unit from which to start, and\nderiving our conception of the plane from the point, we constitute\nEuclidean space. By starting in the manner described above, with the\nplane as the unit, and conceiving the point from it, we constitute\npolar-Euclidean space.\n\nThe realization of the reversibility of the relationship between Point\nand Plane leads to a conception of Space still free from any specific\ncharacter. By G. Adams this space has been appositely called archetypal\nspace, or ur-space. Both Euclidean and polar-Euclidean space are\nparticular manifestations of it, their mutual relationship being one of\nmetamorphosis in the Goethean sense.\n\nThrough conceiving Euclidean and polar-Euclidean space in this manner\nit becomes clear that they are nothing else than the geometrical\nexpression of the relationship between gravity and levity. For gravity,\nthrough its field spreading outward from an inner centre, establishes a\npoint-to-point relation between all things under its sway; whereas\nlevity draws all things within its domain into common plane-relations\nby establishing field-conditions wherein action takes place from the\nperiphery towards the centre. What distinguishes in both cases the\nplane at infinity from all other planes may be best described by\ncalling it the all-embracing plane; correspondingly the point at\ninfinity may be best described as the all-relating point.\n\nIn outer nature the all-embracing plane is as much the 'centre' of the\nearth's field of levity as the all-relating point is the centre of her\nfield of gravity. All actions of dynamic entities, such as that of the\nur-plant and its subordinate types, start from this plane. Seeds,\neye-formations, etc., are nothing but individual all-relating points in\nrespect of this plane. All that springs from such points does so\nbecause of the point's relation to the all-embracing plane. This may\nsuffice to show how realistic are the mathematical concepts which we\nhave here tried to build up.\n\n*\n\nWhen we set out earlier in this book (Chapter VIII) to discover the\nsource of Galileo's intuition, by which he had been enabled to find the\ntheorem of the parallelogram of forces, we were led to certain\nexperiences through which all men go in early childhood by erecting\ntheir body and learning to walk. We were thereby led to realize that\nman's general capacity for thinking mathematically is the outcome of\nearly experiences of this kind. It is evident that geometrical concepts\narising in man's mind in this way must be those of Euclidean geometry.\nFor they are acquired by the will's struggle with gravity. The dynamic\nlaw discovered in this way by Galileo was therefore bound to apply to\nthe behaviour of mechanical forces - that is, of forces acting from\npoints outward.\n\nIn a similar way we can now seek to find the source of our capacity to\nform polar-Euclidean concepts. As we were formerly led to experiences\nof man's early life on earth, so we are now led to his embryonic and\neven pre-embryonic existence.\n\nBefore man's supersensible part enters into a physical body there is no\nmeans of conveying to it experiences other than those of levity, and\nthis condition prevails right through embryonic development. For while\nthe body floats in the mother's foetal fluid it is virtually exempt\nfrom the influence of the earth's field of gravity.\n\nHistory has given us a source of information from these early periods\nof man's existence in Traherne's recollections of the time when his\nsoul was still in the state of cosmic consciousness. Among his\ndescriptions we may therefore expect to find a picture of levity-space\nwhich will confirm through immediate experience what we have arrived at\nalong the lines of realistic mathematical reasoning. Among poems quoted\nearlier, his The Praeparative and My Spirit do indeed convey this\npicture in the clearest possible way. The following are relevant\npassages from these two poems.\n\nIn the first we read:\n\n'Then was my Soul my only All to me,\nA living endless Ey,\nScarce bounded with the Sky\nWhose Power, and Act, and Essence was to see:\nI was an inward Sphere of Light,\nOr an interminable Orb of Sight,\nExceeding that which makes the Days . . .'\n\nIn the second poem the same experience is expressed in richer detail.\nThere he says of his own soul that it -\n\n... being Simple, like the Deity,\nIn its own Centre is a Sphere,\nNot limited but everywhere.\n\nIt acts not from a Centre to\nIts Object, as remote;\nBut present is, where it doth go\nTo view the Being it doth note ...\n\nA strange extended Orb of Joy\nProceeding from within,\nWhich did on ev'ry side display\nIts force; and being nigh of Kin\nTo God, did ev'ry way\nDilate its Self ev'n instantaneously,\nYet an Indivisible Centre stay,\nIn it surrounding all Eternity.\n'Twas not a Sphere;\nYet did appear\nOne infinite: 'Twas somewhat everywhere.'\n\nObserve the distinct description of how the relation between\ncircumference and centre is inverted by the former becoming itself an\n'indivisible centre'. In a space of this kind there is no Here and\nThere, as in Euclidean space, for the consciousness is always and\nimmediately at one with the whole space. Motion is thus quite different\nfrom what it is in Euclidean space. Traherne himself italicized the\nword 'instantaneous', so important did he find this fact. (The quality\nof instantaneousness - equal from the physical point of view to a\nvelocity of the value \u00e2\u0088\u009e - will occupy us more closely as a characteristic\nof the realm of levity when we come to discuss the apparent velocity of\nlight in connexion with our optical studies.)\n\nBy thus realizing the source in man of the polar-Euclidean\nthought-forms, we see the discovery of projective geometry in a new\nlight. For it now assumes the significance of yet another historical\nsymptom of the modern re-awakening of man's capacity to remember his\nprenatal existence.\n\n*\n\nWe know from our previous studies that the concept of polarity is not\nexhausted by conceiving the world as being constituted by polarities of\none order only. Besides primary polarities, there are secondary ones,\nthe outcome of interaction between the primary poles. Having conceived\nof Point and Plane as a geometrical polarity of the first order, we\nhave therefore to ask what formative elements there are in geometry\nwhich represent the corresponding polarity of the second order. The\nfollowing considerations will show that these are the radius, which\narises from the point becoming related to the plane, and the\nspherically bent surface (for which we have no other name than that\nagain of the sphere), arising from the plane becoming related to the\npoint.\n\nIn Euclidean geometry the sphere is defined as 'the locus of all points\nwhich are equidistant from a given point'. To define the sphere in this\nway is in accord with our post-natal, gravity-bound consciousness. For\nin this state our mind can do no more than envisage the surface of the\nsphere point by point from its centre and recognize the equal distance\nof all these points from the centre. Seen thus, the sphere arises as\nthe sum-total of the end-points of all the straight lines of equal\nlength which emerge from the centre-point in all directions. Fig. 8\nindicates this schematically. Here the radius, a straight line, is\nclearly the determining factor.\n\nWe now move to the other pole of the primary polarity, that is to the\nplane, and let the sphere arise by imagining the plane approaching an\ninfinitely distant point evenly from all sides. We view the process\nrealistically only by imagining ourselves in the plane, so that we\nsurround the point from all sides, with the distance between us and the\npoint diminishing gradually. Since we remain all the time on the\nsurface, we have no reason to conceive any change in its original\nposition; that is, we continue to think of it as an all-embracing plane\nwith regard to the chosen point.\n\nThe only way of representing the sphere diagrammatically, as a unit\nbearing in itself the character of the plane whence it sprang, is as\nshown in Fig. 9, where a number of planes, functioning as tangential\nplanes, are so related that together they form a surface which\npossesses everywhere the same distance from the all-relating point.\n\nSince Point and Plane represent in the realm of geometrical concepts\nwhat in outer nature we find in the form of the gravity-levity\npolarity, we may expect to meet Radius and Sphere as actual formative\nelements in nature, wherever gravity and levity interact in one way or\nanother. A few observations may suffice to give the necessary evidence.\nFurther confirmation will be furnished by the ensuing chapters.\n\nThe Radius-Sphere antithesis appears most obviously in the human body,\nthe radial element being represented by the limbs, the spherical by the\nskull. The limbs thus become the hieroglyph of a dynamic directed from\nthe Point to the Plane, and the skull of the opposite. This indeed is\nin accord with the distribution in the organism of the sulphur-salt\npolarity, as we learnt from our physiological and psychological\nstudies. Inner processes and outer form thus reveal the same\ndistribution of poles.\n\nIn the plant the same polarity appears in stalk and leaf. Obviously the\nstalk represents the radial pole. The connexion between leaf and sphere\nis not so clear: in order to recognize it we must appreciate that the\nsingle plant is not a self-contained entity to the same degree as is\nthe human being. The equivalent of the single man is the entire\nvegetable covering of the earth. In man there is an individual centre\nround which the bones of his skull are curved; in the plant world the\nequivalent is the centre of the earth. It is in relation to this that\nwe must conceive of the single leaves as parts of a greater sphere.\n\nIn the plant, just as in man, the morphological polarity coincides with\nthe biological. There is, on the one hand, the process of assimilation\n(photosynthesis), so characteristic of the leaf. Through this process\nmatter passes over from the aeriform condition into that of numerous\nseparate, characteristically structured solid bodies - the starch\ngrains. Besides this kind of assimilation we have learnt to recognize a\nhigher form which we called 'spiritual assimilation'. Here, a\ntransition of substance from the domain of levity to that of gravity\ntakes place even more strikingly than in ordinary (physical)\nassimilation (Chapter X).\n\nThe corresponding process in the linear stalk is one which we may call\n'sublimation' - again with its extension into 'spiritual sublimation'.\nThrough this process matter is carried in the upward direction towards\never less ponderable conditions, and finally into the formless state of\npure 'chaos'. By this means the seed is prepared (as we have seen) with\nthe help of the fire-bearing pollen, so that after it has fallen to the\nground, it may serve as an all-relating point to which the plant's Type\ncan direct its activity from the universal circumference.\n\nIn order to find the corresponding morphological polarity in the animal\nkingdom, we must realize that the animal, by having the main axis of\nits body in the horizontal direction, has a relationship to the\ngravity-levity fields of the earth different from those of both man and\nplant. As a result, the single animal body shows the sphere-radius\npolarity much less sharply. If we compare the different groups of the\nanimal kingdom, however, we find that the animals, too, bear this\npolarity as a formative element. The birds represent the spherical\n(dry, saline) pole; the ruminants the linear (moist, sulphurous) pole.\nThe carnivorous quadrupeds form the intermediary (mercurial) group. As\nur-phenomenal types we may name among the birds the eagle, clothed in\nits dry, silicic plumage, hovering with far-spread wings in the heights\nof the atmosphere, united with the expanses of space through its\nfar-reaching sight; among the ruminants, the cow, lying heavily on the\nground of the earth, given over entirely to the immensely elaborated\nsulphurous process of its own digestion. Between them comes the lion -\nthe most characteristic animal for the preponderance of heart-and-lung\nactivities in the body, with all the attributes resulting from that.\n\nWithin the scope of this book it can only be intimated briefly, but\nshould not be left unmentioned for the sake of those interested in a\nfurther pursuit of these lines of thought, that the morphological mean\nbetween radius and sphere (corresponding to Mercurius in the alchemical\ntriad) is represented by a geometrical figure known as the\n'lemniscate', a particular modification of the so-called Cassinian\ncurves.2\n\n1 For further details, see the writings of G. Adams and L. Locher-Ernst\nwho, each in his own way, have made a beginning with applying\nprojective geometry on the lines indicated by Rudolf Steiner. Professor\nLocher-Ernst was the first to apply the term 'polar-Euclidean' to the\nspace-system corresponding to levity.\n\n2 For particulars of the lemniscate as the building plan of the middle\npart of man's skeleton, see K. K\u00c3\u00b6nig, M.D.: Beitrage zu einer reinen\nAnatomic des menschlichen Knochenskeletts in the periodical Natura\n(Dornach, 1930-1). Some projective-geometrical considerations\nconcerning the lemniscate are to be found in the previously mentioned\nwritings of G. Adams and L. Locher-Ernst.\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\n'Radiant Matter'\n\nWhen man in the state of world-onlooker undertook to form a dynamic\npicture of the nature of matter, it was inevitable that of all the\nqualities which belong to its existence he should be able to envisage\nonly those pertaining to gravity and electricity. Because his\nconsciousness, at this stage of its evolution, was closely bound up\nwith the force of gravity inherent in the human body, he was unable to\nform any conception of levity as a force opposite to gravity. Yet,\nnature is built bipolarically, and polarity-concepts are therefore\nindispensable for developing a true understanding of her actions. This\naccounts for the fact that the unipolar concept of gravity had\neventually to be supplemented by some kind of bipolar concept.\n\nNow, the only sphere of nature-phenomena with a bipolar character\naccessible to the onlooker-consciousness 'was that of electricity. It\nwas thus that man in this state of consciousness was compelled to\npicture the foundation of the physical universe as being made up of\ngravity and electricity, as we meet them in the modern picture of the\natom, with its heavy electro-positive nucleus and the virtually\nweightless electro-negative electrons moving round it.\n\nOnce scientific observation and thought are freed from the limitations\nof the onlooker-consciousness, both gravity and electricity appear in a\nnew perspective, though the change is different for each of them.\nGravity, while it becomes one pole of a polarity, with levity as the\nopposite pole, still retains its character as a fundamental force of\nthe physical universe, the gravity-levity polarity being one of the\nfirst order. Not so electricity. For, as the following discussion will\nshow, the electrical polarity is one of the second order; moreover,\ninstead of constituting matter as is usually believed, electricity\nturns out to be in reality a product of matter.\n\n*\n\nWe follow Goethe's line when, in order to answer the question, 'What is\nelectricity?' we first ask, 'How does electricity arise?' Instead of\nstarting with phenomena produced by electricity when it is already in\naction, and deriving from them a hypothetical picture, we begin by\nobserving the processes to which electricity owes its appearance. Since\nthere is significance in the historical order in which facts of nature\nhave come to man's knowledge in the past, we choose as our\nstarting-point, among the various modes of generating electricity, the\none through which the existence of an electric force first became\nknown. This is the rousing of the electric state in a body by rubbing\nit with another body of different material composition. Originally,\namber was rubbed with wool or fur.\n\nBy picturing this process in our mind we become aware of a certain\nkinship of electricity with fire, since for ages the only known way of\nkindling fire was through friction. We notice that in both cases man\nhad to resort to the will-power invested in his limbs for setting in\nmotion two pieces of matter, so that, by overcoming their resistance to\nthis motion, he released from them a certain force which he could\nutilize as a supplement to his own will. The similarity of the two\nprocesses may be taken as a sign that heat and electricity are related\nto each other in a certain way, the one being in some sense a\nmetamorphosis of the other. Our first task, therefore, will be to try\nto understand how it is that friction causes heat to appear in manifest\nform.\n\nThere is no friction unless the surfaces of the rubbed bodies have a\nstructure that is in some way interfered with by the rubbing, while at\nthe same time they offer a certain resistance to the disturbance. This\nresistance is due to a characteristic of matter, commonly called\ncohesion. Now we know that the inner coherence of a physical body is\ndue to its point-relationship, that is to the gravitational force bound\nup with it. Indeed, cohesion increases as we pass from the gaseous,\nthrough the liquid, to the solid state of matter.\n\nWhilst a body's cohesion is due to gravity, its spatial extendedness\nis, as we have seen, due to levity. If we reduce the volume of a piece\nof physical matter by means of pressure, we therefore release\nlevity-forces previously bound up in it, and these, as always happens\nin such cases, appear in the form of free heat. Figuratively speaking,\nwe may say that by applying pressure to matter, latent levity is\npressed out of it, somewhat like water out of a wet sponge.\n\nThe generation of free heat by friction rests on quite similar grounds.\nObviously, friction always requires a certain pressure. This alone,\nhowever, would not account for the amount of heat easily produced by\nfriction. To the pressure there is in this case added a certain measure\nof encroachment upon the unity of the material substance. In the case\nof friction between two solid bodies, this may go so far that particles\nof matter are completely detached from the cohesive whole. The result\nis an increase in the number of single mass-centres on the earth, as\nagainst the all-embracing cosmic periphery. This diminishes the hold of\nlevity on the total amount of physical matter present on the earth.\nAgain, the levity thus becoming free appears as external heat. (In the\nreverse case when, for instance through melting, a number of single\nphysical bodies become one, free heat becomes latent.)\n\nBoth the diminishing of spatial extension and the breaking up of a\nwhole into parts entail an increase in the quality 'dry'. This applies\nnot only in the sense that the parts which have become independent\nunits are 'dry' in relation to each other - formerly coherent matter\nbeing turned into dust - but also in the other sense, and one valid in\nboth cases, that levity and gravity are losing part of their previous\ninter-connexion. If this twofold process of 'becoming dry' reaches a\ncertain intensity, the substances concerned, provided they are\ninflammable, begin to burn, with the result that dry heat escapes and\ndry ash is formed. We note that in each case we are dealing with a\nchange in the relationship between the poles of a polarity of the first\norder.\n\nWe will now apply this picture of the process of friction to the\ninstance when, as a result of this action, electricity appears.\n\nOriginally the evoking of the electric condition was ascribed solely to\nthe nature of amber, the only substance known to possess this property.\nTo-day we know that not the amber alone, but its coming together with\nanother substance of different nature, in this instance an animal\nsubstance of the nature of hair or silk, is required. Whatever\nsubstances we use for friction, they must always be different in\nnature, so as to allow both kinds of electricity to appear at once.\nWhich of the two kinds imposes its presence the more strongly upon the\nobserver depends on purely extraneous conditions which have nothing to\ndo with the process itself.\n\nObviously, if we wish to understand the qualitative difference between\nthe two kinds of electricity, we must investigate the qualitative\ndifference in the material substances, which give rise to electricity\nwhen they are rubbed together. We shall again follow the historical\nline by examining the two substances which first taught man the polar\nnature of electricity. They are glass and resin, after which, as we\nmentioned, the two electricities were even named in the beginning.\n\nOur functional conception of matter, developed earlier (Chapter XI),\nallows us to recognize in these two substances representatives of the\nSalt-Sulphur polarity. Indeed, glass as a mineral substance, which\nactually owes its specific character to the presence of silicon in it,\nclearly stands on the phosphoric-crystalline side, while resin, being\nitself a sort of 'gum', on the sulphurous-volcanic side. In fact,\nsulphur itself was soon found to be a particularly suitable substance\nfor producing 'resin'-electricity.\n\nNow the usual way of producing one kind of electricity is by rubbing\nresin (or sulphur, or ebonite) with wool or fur, and the other by\nrubbing glass with leather. At first sight, it does not seem as if the\ntwo counter-substances represent the required alchemic counter-poles to\nresin and glass. For both hair and leather are animal products and\ntherefore seem to be of like nature. Closer inspection, however, shows\nthat they do obey the rule. For hair, like all horny substances, is a\ndead product of external secretion by the animal organism. An\nur-phenomenal example of it, showing its kinship to glass-like\nsubstances, is the transparent cornea of the eye, close to the\ncrystal-lens. Leather, on the other hand, is a product of the\nhypodermic part of the body and, as such, belongs to those parts of the\norganism which are filled with blood, and, therefore, permeated with\nlife. (Note as a characteristic of leather that it requires a special\ntreatment, tanning, to make it as immune from decay as hair is by\nnature.) Hair and leather, therefore, represent in themselves a\nsalt-sulphur polarity, and thus fulfil the corresponding function when\nbrought together with resin or glass respectively.\n\nWhat is true for the particular substances which originally led man to\ndiscover the dual nature of electricity, holds good equally for any\npair of substances capable of assuming the electric state when rubbed\nagainst each other. If we examine from this point of view the series of\nsuch substances, as usually given in the textbooks on electricity, we\nshall always find a substance of extreme salt-character at the one end,\nand one of extreme sulphur-character at the other, the substances as a\nwhole forming a gradual transition from one extreme to the other. Which\nkind of electricity appears on each, when submitted to friction,\ndepends on whether the counter-substance stands on its right or left,\nin the series. It is the particular relation between the two which\nmakes them behave in one way or the other.\n\nThere are cases which seem to elude this law, and investigation has\nshown that other characteristics of the rubbed bodies, such as surface\nquality, can have a modifying influence. For lack of a guiding idea\nthey are treated in the textbooks as 'irregularities'. Observation led\nby a true polarity concept shows that in these cases also the rule is\nnot violated. In this respect, interesting information can be gained\nfrom the observations of J. W. Ritter (1776-1810), an ingenious\nNaturphilosoph from the circle round Goethe, but to whom, also,\nphysical science is indebted for his discovery of the ultra-violet part\nof the spectrum and of galvanic polarization. Among his writings there\nis a treatise on electricity, giving many generally unknown instances\nof frictional electricity which are in good accord with our picture and\nwell worth investigating. According to Ritter, even two crystalline\nsubstances of different hardness, such as Calcite and quartz, become\nelectric when rubbed together, the softer playing the part of 'resin'\nand the harder that of 'glass'.\n\nThese few facts connected with the generation of frictional electricity\nare enough to allow us to form a picture of the nature of the polarity\nrepresented by the two kinds of electricity.\n\nWe remember that in the case of the generation of heat through\nfriction, as a result of an encroachment upon the cohesion of the\nmaterial body involved, the relationship between levity and gravity in\nit changes from 'moist' to 'dry' and that the effect of this is the\nappearance of 'fire' and 'dust' as poles of a primary polarity. This\nprocess, however, is altered when the bodies subjected to friction are\nopposed to each other in the sense of a salt-sulphur polarity. The\neffect then is that the liberated levity, under the influence of the\npeculiar tension between the two bodies, remains bound in the realm of\nsubstance and becomes itself split up polarically.\n\nClearly, then, in the case of electrical polarity we encounter a\ncertain form of gravity-bound levity, and this in a twofold way. Owing\nto the contrasting nature of the two bodies involved in the process,\nthe coupling of gravity and levity is a polar one on both sides. The\nelectrical polarity thus turns out to be itself of the nature of a\nsecondary polarity.\n\nTwo more recently discovered means of evoking the electric condition in\na piece of matter confirm this picture. They are the so-called\npiezo-electricity and pyro-electricity. Both signify the occurrence of\nthe electrical polarity at the two ends of an asymmetrically built\n(hemimorphous) crystal, as the result of changing the crystal's spatial\ncondition. In piezo-electricity the change consists in a diminution of\nthe crystal's volume through pressure; in pyro-electricity, in an\nincrease of the crystal volume by raising its temperature. The\nasymmetry of the crystal, due to a one-sided working of the forces of\ncrystallization, plays the same role here as does the alchemic\nopposition between the two bodies used for the production of frictional\nelectricity.\n\n*\n\nIt is typical of the scientist of the past that he was dependent on\nphenomena brought about by a highly developed experimental technique\nfor becoming aware of certain properties of the electrical force,\nwhereas for the realistic observer these properties are revealed at\nonce by the most primitive electric phenomena. We remember Eddington's\ndescription of the positron as 'negative material', and his subsequent\nremarks, which show the paradoxical nature of this concept if applied\nto the hypothetical interior of the atom (Chapter IV). The quite\nprimitive phenomenon of electrical repulsion and attraction shows us\nthe same thing in a manner of which it is not difficult to form a\nconception.\n\nModern physics itself, with the help of Faraday's field-concept,\ndescribes these phenomena as caused by pressure - resulting from the\nmeeting in space of two similar electrical fields - and suction -\nresulting from the meeting of two dissimilar fields. In the first case\nthe space between the two electrically charged bodies assumes a degree\nof density, as if it were filled with some elastic material. In the\nsecond instance the density of the space where the two fields\nintermingle is lower than that of its surroundings. Here, clearly, we\nhave a state of negative density which acts on the electrically charged\nbodies just as a lowering of pressure acts on a gas: in both cases\nmovement occurs in the direction leading from the higher to the lower\ndensity. Electricity thus shows itself capable of producing both\ngravity and levity effects, thereby once more confirming our picture of\nit.\n\n*\n\nOur next task will be to examine the galvanic form of generating\nelectricity, in order to gain further light on our picture of the\nelectrical polarity.\n\nGalvanism, as it became established through Volta's work, rests on\ncertain properties of the metallic substances of the earth. Compared\nwith the substances which may be used for producing electricity through\nfriction, the metals hold a mid-position. They are all essentially\nmercurial substances. (In quicksilver, which for this reason was given\nthe name 'mercury' by the alchemists, this fact comes to an\nur-phenomenal appearance.) Among the many facts proving the mercurial\nnature of the metals, there is one of particular interest to us. This\nis their peculiar relationship to the processes of oxidation and\nreduction.\n\nMetals, in their metallic state, are bearers of latent levity, which\ncan be set free either through combustion or through corrosion. They\ndiffer from one another by their relative degree of eagerness to enter\ninto and remain in the metallic, that is, the reduced state, or to\nassume and keep the state of the oxide (in which form they are found in\nthe various metallic oxides and salts). There are metals such as gold,\nsilver, etc., for which the reduced state is more or less natural;\nothers, such as potassium, sodium, etc., find the oxidized state\nnatural and can be brought into and kept in the reduced state only by\nartificial means. Between these extremes there are all possible degrees\nof transition, some metals more nearly resembling the 'noble', others\nmore nearly the 'corrosive', metals.\n\nWe remember that it was the different relationship of sulphur and\nphosphorus to reduction and oxidation which led us to envisage them as\nur-phenomenal representatives of the alchemic polarity. We may\ntherefore say that there are metals which from the alchemic point of\nview more nearly resemble sulphur, others more nearly phosphorus,\nwhilst others again hold an intermediary position between the extremes.\nIt is on these differences among the various metals that their galvanic\nproperties are based.\n\nLet us from this point of view contemplate the following series of\nchemical elements, which is a representation of the so-called voltaic\nseries:\n\nGraphite, Platinum, Gold, Silver, Copper, Iron, Tin, Lead, Zinc,\nAluminium, Magnesium, Sodium, Potassium.\n\nAny two of these metals constitute a voltaic cell. Its electromotive\nforce is determined by the distance in the series between the metals\nused. Just as in the case of frictional electricity, the kind of\nelectricity which is supplied by a certain metal depends on whether the\nother metal with which it is coupled stands to the right or to the left\nof it in the series.1\n\nLet us now see what happens in a galvanic cell when the two different\nmetals are simultaneously exposed to the chemical action of the\nconnecting fluid. Each metal by itself would undergo oxidation with\ngreater or less intensity, and the calorific energy hidden in it would\nbecome free in the form of heat. This process suffers a certain\nalteration through the presence of the second metal, which sets up an\nalchemic tension between the two. Instead of a proper segregation of\nthe primary polarity, heat-dust (in this case, heat-oxide), the heat\nremains matter-bound and appears on the surface of the two metals in a\nsecondarily split form as positive and negative electricity.\n\nThe similarity between this process and the frictional generation of\nelectricity is evident.\n\n*\n\nOur observations have shown that the emergence of the electric state,\nwhether it be caused by friction or galvanically, depends on matter\nentering into a condition in which its cohesion is loosened - or, as we\nalso put it, on its being turned into 'dust' - and this in such a way\nthat the escaping levity remains dust-bound. This picture of\nelectricity now enables us to give a realistic interpretation of\ncertain phenomena which, in the interpretation which the physicist of\nthe past was bound to give them, have contributed much to the\ntightening of the net of scientific illusion.\n\nSome sixty years after Dalton had established, purely hypothetically,\nthe theory of the atomistic structure of matter, scientific research\nwas led to the observation of actual atomistic phenomena. Crookes found\nelectricity appearing in his tubes in the form of discrete particles,\nwith properties hitherto known only as appertaining to mass. What could\nbe more natural than to take this as evidence that the method of\nthought developed during the past era of science was on the right\ncourse?\n\nThe same phenomena appear in quite a different light when we view them\nagainst the background of the picture of electricity to which our\nobservations have led. Knowing that the appearance of electricity\ndepends on a process of atomization of some sort, we shall expect that\nwhere electricity becomes freely observable, it will yield phenomena of\nan atomistic kind. The observations of electricity in a vacuum,\ntherefore, yield no confirmation whatsoever of the atomistic view of\nmatter.\n\nThe same is true of the phenomena bound up with radioactivity, which\nwere discovered in direct consequence of Crookes's work. We know that\nthe naturally radioactive elements are all in the group of those with\nthe highest atomic weight. This fact, seen together with the\ncharacteristics of radioactivity, tells us that in such elements\ngravity has so far got the upper hand of levity that the physical\nsubstance is unable to persist as a spatially extended, coherent unit.\nIt therefore falls asunder, with the liberated levity drawn into the\nprocess of dispersion. Seen thus, radioactivity becomes a symptom of\nthe earth's old age.\n\n*\n\nBefore entering into a discussion of the question, which naturally\narises at this point, as to how levity and gravity by their two\npossible ways of interaction - 'sulphurous' or 'saline' - determine the\nproperties of so-called positive and negative electricity, we shall\nfirst study the third mode of generating electricity, namely, by\nelectromagnetic induction. Along this way we shall arrive at a picture\nof the magnetic force which corresponds to the one already obtained of\nelectricity. This will then lead us to a joint study of the nature of\nelectric polarity and magnetic polarity.\n\nThe discovery of the phenomena we call electromagnetic depended on the\npossibility of producing continuous electrical processes. This arose\nwith Volta's invention. When it became necessary to find a concept for\nthe process which takes place in an electric conductor between the\npoles of a galvanic cell, the concept of the 'current', borrowed from\nhydrodynamics, suggested itself. Ever since then it has been the rule\nto speak of the existence of a current within an electric circuit; its\nstrength or intensity is measured in terms of a unit named in honour of\nAmpere.\n\nThis concept of the current has had a fate typical of the whole\nrelation of human thought to the facts connected with electricity. Long\nafter it had been coined to cover phenomena which in themselves betray\nno movement of any kind between the electrical poles, other phenomena\nwhich do in fact show such movements became known through Crookes's\nobservations. Just as in the case of atomism, they seemed to prove the\nvalidity of the preconceived idea of the current. Soon, however,\nradiant electricity showed properties which contradicted the picture of\nsomething flowing from one pole to the other. The cathode rays, for\ninstance, were found to shoot forth into space perpendicularly from the\nsurface of the cathode, without regard to the position of the anode. At\nthe same time Maxwell's hydrodynamic analogy (as our historical survey\nhas shown) led to a view of the nature of electricity by which this\nvery analogy was put out of court. By predicting certain properties of\nelectricity which come to the fore when its poles alternate rapidly, he\nseemed to bring electricity into close kinship with light. Mathematical\ntreatment then made it necessary to regard the essential energy process\nas occurring, not from one pole to the other, but at right angles to a\nline joining the poles (Poynting's vector). This picture, however,\nsatisfactory though it was in the realm of high frequency, failed as a\nmeans of describing so-called direct-current processes.\n\nAs a result of all this the theory of electricity has fallen apart into\nseveral conceptual realms lying, as it were, alongside one another,\neach consistent in itself but lacking any logical connexion with the\nothers. Although the old concept of the electric current has long lost\nits validity, scientific thought (not to speak of the layman's) has not\nmanaged to discard it. To do this must therefore be our first task, if\nwe want to attain to a realistic picture of electromagnetism.\n\n*\n\nWhile keeping strictly to the historical order of things, we shall try\nfirst to form a picture of what happens when we connect two\nelectrically charged bodies by a conductor. We know that we rightly\ndescribe the change of the dynamic properties of the part of space, in\nwhich the two bodies are present, by saying that a certain electric\nfield prevails in it. This field possesses different 'potentials' at\nits various points and so there exists a certain potential difference\nbetween the two electric charges. What then happens when a so-called\n'conductor' is brought into such a field?\n\nFrom the point of view of the field-concept, conductivity consists in\nthe property of a body not to allow any change of potential along its\nsurface. Such a surface, therefore, is always an equipotential. In the\nlanguage of alchemy, conductivity is a mercurial property. In the\npresence of such a body, therefore, no Salt-Sulphur contrasts can\nobtain. In view of what we found above as the mean position of the\nmetals in the alchemic triad, it is significant that they, precisely,\nshould play so outstanding a role as electrical conductors.\n\nIf we keep to pure observation, the only statement we can make\nconcerning the effect produced by the introduction of such a body into\nthe electric field is that this field suddenly disappears. We shall see\nlater in which direction this vanishing occurs. For the present it is\nsufficient to have formed the picture of the disappearance of the\nelectrical condition of space as a result of the presence of a body\nwith certain mercurial properties.\n\nNothing else, indeed, happens when we make the process continuous by\nusing a galvanic source of electricity. All that distinguishes a\ngalvanic cell from the sources of electricity used before the time of\nVolta is its faculty of immediately re-establishing the field which\nprevails between its poles, whenever this field becomes extinguished by\nthe presence of a conductor. Volta himself saw this quite correctly. In\nhis first account of the new apparatus he describes it as 'Leyden jars\nwith a continuously re-established charge'. Every enduring electrical\nprocess, indeed, consists in nothing but a vanishing and\nre-establishment of the electrical field with such rapidity that the\nwhole process appears continuous.\n\nHere, also, pure observation of the effect of a conductor in an\nelectric field tells us that its action consists in the annihilation of\nthe field. There is no phenomenon which allows us to state that this\nprocess takes place along the axis of the conductor. If we wish to\nobtain a picture of the true direction, we must consider the condition\nof space which arises in place of the electric condition that has\ndisappeared.\n\nWith the possibility of turning the cancellation of the electrical\ncondition of space into a continuous process, it became possible to\nobserve that the neutralization of electric charges entails the\nappearance of heat and magnetism. We must now ask which are the\nqualities of electricity on the one hand, and of heat and magnetism on\nthe other, which account for the fact that where electricity\ndisappears, the two latter forces are bound to appear. Since magnetism\nis the still unknown entity among the three, we must now deal with it.\n\n*\n\nUnlike electricity, magnetism was first known in the form of its\nnatural occurrence, namely as a property of certain minerals. If we\nfollow the same course which led us to start our study of electricity\nwith the primitive process of generating it, we shall turn now to the\nbasic phenomenon produced by a magnetic field already in existence.\n(Only when we have learnt all we can from this, shall we proceed to ask\nhow magnetism comes into being.) Obviously, we shall find this basic\nphenomenon in the effect of a magnet on a heap of iron filings.\n\nLet us, to begin with, compare a mass of solid iron with the same\nquantity of it in powdered form. The difference is that the powder\nlacks the binding force which holds the solid piece together. Now lei\nus expose the powdered iron to the influence of a magnet. At once a\ncertain ordering principle takes hold of the single particles. They no\nlonger lie at random and unrelated, apart from the inconspicuous\ngravitational effect they exert on one another, but are drawn into a\ncoherent whole, thus acquiring properties resembling those of an\nordinary piece of solid matter.\n\nRead thus, the phenomenon tells us that a part of space occupied by a\nmagnetic field has qualities which are otherwise found only where a\ncoherent solid mass is present. A magnetic piece of solid iron,\ntherefore, differs from a non-magnetic piece by giving rise in its\nsurroundings to dynamic conditions which would otherwise exist only in\nits interior. This picture of the relatedness of magnetism to solidity\nis confirmed by the fact that both are cancelled by heat, and increased\nby cold.2\n\nBy its magnetic properties iron thus reveals itself as a substance\ncapable of assuming the condition of solid matter to a degree\nsurpassing ordinary solidity. As an exceptional kind of metal it forms\nthe counter-pole to mercury, in which the solid-fluid condition\ncharacteristic of all metallic matter is as much shifted towards the\nfluid as in iron it is to the solid. (Note in this respect the peculiar\nresistance of iron to the liquefying effect which mercury has on the\nother metals.)\n\nThis picture of magnetism enables us to understand at once why it must\noccur together with heat at the place where an electric polarity has\nbeen cancelled by the presence of a conductor. We have seen that\nelectricity is levity coupled in a peculiar way with gravity; it is\npolarized levity (accompanied by a corresponding polarization of\ngravity). An electric field, therefore, always has both qualities,\nthose of levity and of gravity. We saw a symptom of this in electrical\nattraction and repulsion, so called; the attraction, we found, was due\nto negative density, the repulsion to positive density, imparted to\nspace by the electrical fields present there. Now we see that when,\nthrough the presence of a conductor, the electrical field round the two\nopposing poles vanishes, in its place two other fields, a thermal and a\nmagnetic, appear. Clearly, one of them represents the levity-part, the\nother the gravity-part, of the vanished electric field. The whole\nprocess reminds one of combustion through which the ponderable and\nimponderable parts, combined in the combustible substance, fall apart\nand appear on the one hand as heat, and on the other as oxidized\nsubstance ('ash'). Yet, between these two manifestations of heat there\nis an essential qualitative difference.\n\nAlthough, from our view-point, magnetism represents only one 'half of a\nphenomenon, the other half of which is heat, we must not forget that it\nis itself a bipolar force. Thus, despite its apparent relation to\ngravity it does not represent, as gravity does, one pole of a primary\npolarity, with heat as the other pole. Rather must it carry certain\nqualities of levity which, together with those of gravity, appear in a\npolarically opposite manner at its two poles. (Details of this will be\nshown later when we come to investigate the individual qualities of the\ntwo poles of magnetism and electricity.) Hence the heat that forms the\ncounterpart to magnetism cannot be pure levity either. As the result of\na certain coupling with gravity, it too has somehow remained\npolarically split.\n\nThis can easily be seen by considering the following. Unlike the\nlevity-gravity polarity, in which one pole is peripheral and the other\npoint-centred, both Doles of the electrical polarity are point-centred;\nboth are located in physical space, and thereby determine a definite\ndirection within this space. It is this direction which remains a\ncharacteristic of both the magnetic and the thermal fields. The\ndirection of the thermal field as much as that of the magnetic is\ndetermined by its having as its axis the conductor joining the poles of\nthe antecedent electrical field. Both fields supplement each other in\nthat the thermal radiation forms the radii which belong to the circular\nmagnetic lines-of-force surrounding the conductor.3\n\nOur picture of the process which is commonly called an electric current\nis now sufficiently complete to allow us to make a positive statement\nconcerning the direction in which it takes place. Let us once more sum\nup: In order that this process may occur, there must be present in an\nelectrically excited part of space a body which does not suffer the\nparticular polarization of space bound up with such a field. As a\nresult, the electrical field disappears, and in place of it appear a\nthermal field and a magnetic field, both having as their axis the line\nconnecting the two poles. Each of them spreads out in a direction at\nright angles to this fine. Obviously, therefore, it is in this radial\ndirection that the transformation of the electrical into the\nthermo-magnetic condition of space must take place.\n\nThis picture of the electro-thermo-magnetic happening, as regards its\ndirection, is in complete accord with the result obtained (as indicated\nearlier) by the mathematical treatment of high-frequency phenomena.\nOnce more we see that quite primitive observations, when properly read,\nlead to findings for which scientific thought had to wait until they\nwere forced on it by the progress of experimental technique - as even\nthen science was left without a uniformly valid picture of the dynamic\nbehaviour of electricity.\n\nFurther, we can now see that when we apply electricity to practical\npurposes, we are in fact seldom using electricity itself, but other\nforces (that is, other combinations of gravity and levity) which we\nmake effective by making electricity disappear. The same is true of\nmost of the methods of measuring electricity. As a rule, the force\nwhich sets the instrument in motion is not electricity but another\nforce (magnetism, heat, etc.) which appears in the place of the\nvanishing electricity. Thus the so-called intensity of an electric\ncurrent is actually the intensity with which the electricity in\nquestion disappears! Electricity serves us in our machines in the same\nway that food serves a living organism: it gets itself digested, and\nwhat matters is the resulting secondary product.\n\nJust as alterations in the electrical condition of space give rise to\nthe appearance of a magnetic field, any alteration of the magnetic\nstate of space gives rise to the appearance of an electrical field.\nThis process is called electromagnetic induction. With its discovery,\nthe generation of electricity through friction and in the galvanic way\nwas supplemented by a third way. By this means the practical use of\nelectricity on a large scale became possible for the first time. If our\npicture of the two earlier processes of generating electricity is\ncorrect, then this third way must also fit into the picture, although\nin this case we have no longer to do with any direct atomization of\nphysical matter. Our picture of magnetism will indeed enable us to\nrecognize in electromagnetic induction the same principle on which we\nfound the two other processes to rest.\n\nMagnetism is polarized gravity. Hence it has the same characteristic of\ntending always to maintain an existent condition. In bodies subject to\ngravity, this tendency reveals itself as their inertia. It is the\ninertia inherent in magnetism which we employ when using it to generate\nelectricity. The simplest example is when, by interrupting a 'primary\ncurrent', we induce a 'secondary current' in a neighbouring circuit. By\nthe sudden alteration of the electric condition on the primary side,\nthe magnetic condition of the surrounding space is exposed to a sudden\ncorresponding change. Against this the magnetic field 'puts up' a\nresistance by calling forth, on the secondary side, an electrical\nprocess of such direction and strength that the entire magnetic\ncondition remains first unaltered and then, instead of changing\nsuddenly, undergoes a gradual transformation which ideally needs an\ninfinite time for its accomplishment (asymptotic course of the\nexponential curve). This principle rules every process of\nelectromagnetic induction, whatever the cause and direction of the\nchange of the magnetic field.\n\nWe know that electromagnetic induction takes place also when a\nconductor is moved across a magnetic field in such a way that, as the\ntechnical term goes, it 'cuts' the field's lines of force. Whereas the\nprocess discussed above is employed in the transformer, this latter\nprocess is used in generation of electricity by dynamo. We have seen\nthat a magnetic field imparts to the relevant part of space qualities\nof density which otherwise prevail only in the interior of solid\nmasses. We remember further that the appearance of electricity, in the\ntwo other modes of generating it, is caused by the loosening of the\ncoherence of the material substance. A similar loosening of the\ncoherence of the magnetic field takes place when its field-lines are\ncut by the movement of the conductor across it. Just as heat occurs\nwhen we move a solid object through a liquid, electricity occurs when\nwe move a conductor across a magnetic field. In each case we interfere\nwith an existing levity-gravity relationship.\n\n*\n\nHaving established thus far the picture of both electricity and\nmagnetism which shows each as an outcome of certain levity-gravity\ninteractions, we now ask how, in particular, negative and positive\nelectricity on the one hand and north and south magnetism on the other\nare determined by these interactions. Let us again begin with\nelectricity.\n\nWe remember that Galvani was led to his observations by the results of\nWalsh's study of the electric fishes. While Galvani clung to the view\nthat in his own experiments the source of the electrical force lay\nwithin the animal bodies, Volta saw the fallacy of that. He then\nconceived the idea of imitating with purely inorganic substances the\nset-up which Galvani had come upon by accident. The paradoxical result\n- as he himself noticed with surprise - was that his apparatus turned\nout to be a close replica of the peculiar organ with which the electric\nfishes are endowed by nature. We must now take a closer view of this\norgan.\n\nThe electric organ of such a fish consists of many thousands of little\npiles, each made up of a very great number of plates of two different\nkinds, arranged in alternating layers. The two kinds differ in\nsubstance: in one case the plate is made from a material similar to\nthat present in the nervous system of animals; in the other the\nresemblance is to a substance present in the muscular system, though\nonly when the muscles are in a state of decay. In this way the two\nopposing systems of the animal body' seem to be brought here into\ndirect contact, repeated many thousands of times.\n\nIn the electric fishes, accordingly, sensation and will are brought\ninto a peculiar interrelation. For the will-pole is related to its\nbodily foundation in a manner which otherwise obtains only between the\nnervous system and the psychological processes co-ordinated with it.\nThese fishes then have the capacity to send out force-currents which\nproduce in other animals and in man 'concussion of the limbs', or in\nextreme cases paralysis and even death. Through describing the process\nin this way we realize that electricity appears here as metamorphosed\nanimal will, which takes this peculiar form because part of the\nanimal's volitional system is assimilated to its sensory system in an\nexceptional manner.\n\nIt is known to-day that what nature reveals so strikingly in the case\nof the electric fish, is nothing but the manifestation of a principle\nat work in the bodies of all beings endowed with sensation and volition\n- in corporeal terms, with the duality of a nervous and a muscular\nsystem - and therefore at work also in the human body. Observation has\nshown that the activities of these two systems in man and animal are\naccompanied by the occurrence of different electric potentials in\ndifferent parts of the body. Plate A, Fig. iii, shows the distribution\nof the two polar electric forces in the human body. The bent lines in\nthe diagram stand for curves of equal electric potential. The straight\nline between them is the neutral zone. As might be expected, this line\nruns through the heart. What seems less obvious is its slanting\nposition. Here the asymmetry, characteristic of the human body, comes\nto expression.\n\nIf we remember that the nervous system represents the salt-pole, and\nthe metabolic system the sulphur-pole, of the human organism, and if we\ntake into account the relationship between levity and gravity at the\ntwo poles, we can see from the distribution of the two electricities\nthat the coupling of levity and gravity at the negative pole of the\nelectrical polarity is such that levity descends into gravity, while at\nthe positive pole gravity rises into levity. Negative electricity\ntherefore must have somehow a 'spherical' character, and positive\nelectricity a 'radial'.\n\nThis finding is fully confirmed by electrical phenomena in the realm of\nnature most remote from man (though it was an effort to solve the\nenigma of man which led to the discovery of this realm). Since\nCrookes's observations of the behaviour of electricity in a vacuum it\nis common knowledge that only the negative kind of electricity occurs\nas a freely radiating force (though it retains some properties of\ninertia), whereas positive electricity seems to be much more closely\nbound to minute particles of ponderable matter. Here again we find\ngravity-laden levity on the negative side, levity-raised gravity on the\npositive.\n\nThe same language is spoken by the forms in which the luminous\nphenomena appear at the two poles of a Crookes tube. Fig. i on Plate A\nrepresents the whole phenomenon as far as such a diagram allows. Here\nwe see on the positive side radial forms appear, on the negative side\nplanar-spherical forms. As symbols of nature's script, these forms tell\nus that cosmic periphery and earthly centre stand in a polar relation\nto each other at the two ends of the tube. (Our optical studies will\nlater show that the colours which appear at the anode and cathode are\nalso in complete accord with this.)\n\nAt this point in our discussion it is possible to raise, without risk\nof confusing the issue, the question of the distribution of the two\nelectric forces over the pairs of substances concerned in the\ngeneration of electricity both by friction and in the galvanic way.\nThis distribution seems to contradict the picture to which the\nforegoing observations have led us, for in both instances the\n'sulphurous' substances (resin in one, the nobler metals in the other)\nbecome bearers of negative electricity; while the 'saline' substances\n(glass and the corrosive metals) carry positive electricity. Such a\ncriss-crossing of the poles-surprising as it seems at first sight - is\nnot new to us. We have met it in the distribution of function of the\nplant's organs of propagation, and we shall meet a further instance of\nit when studying the function of the human eye. Future investigation\nwill have to find the principle common to all instances in nature where\nsuch an interchange of the poles prevails.\n\nWhile the electric field arising round an electrified piece of matter\ndoes not allow any recognition of the absolute characteristics of the\ntwo opposing electrical forces, we do find them revealed by the\ndistribution of electricity in the human body. Something similar holds\ngood for magnetism. Only, to find the phenomena from which to read the\nabsolute characteristics of the two sides of the magnetic polarity, we\nmust not turn to the body of man but to that of the earth, one of whose\ncharacteristics it is to be as much the bearer of a magnetic field as\nof gravitational and levitational fields. There is significance in the\nfact that even to-day, when the tendency prevails to look for causes of\nnatural phenomena not in the macrocosmic expanse, but in the\nmicroscopic confines of space, the two poles of magnetism are named\nafter the magnetic poles of the earth. It indicates the degree to which\nman's feeling instinctively relates magnetism to the earth as a whole.\n\nIn our newly developed terminology we may say that magnetism, as a\npolarity of the second order, represents a field of force both of whose\npoles are situated within finite space, and that in the macro-telluric\nmother-field this situation is such that the axis of this field\ncoincides more or less with the axis of the earth's physical body. Thus\nthe magnetic polarization of the earth as a letter in nature's script\nbids us rank it alongside other phenomena which in their way are an\nexpression of the earth's being polarized in the north-south direction.\n\nThe Austrian geographer, E. Suess, in his great work The Countenance of\nthe Earth, first drew attention to the fact that an observer\napproaching the earth from outer space would be struck by the onesided\ndistribution and formation of the earth's continents. He would notice\nthat most of the dry land is in the northern hemisphere, leaving the\nsouthern hemisphere covered mainly with water. In terms of the basic\nelementary qualities, this means that the earth is predominantly 'dry'\nin its northern half, and 'moist' in its southern.\n\nIn this fact we have a symbol which tells us that the earth represents\na polarity of the second order, with its 'salt'-pole in the north and\nits 'sulphur'-pole in the south. Hence the magnetism called 'North'\nmust be of saline and therefore spherical nature, corresponding to the\nnegative pole in the realm of electricity, while 'South' magnetism must\nbe of sulphurous - i.e. radial-nature, corresponding to positive\nelectricity. Moreover, this must hold good equally for the fields of\nmagnetic force generated by naturally magnetic or artificially\nmagnetized pieces of iron. For the circumstance that makes a piece of\nmatter into a magnet is simply that part of the general magnetic field\nof the earth has been drawn into it. Of especial interest in this\nrespect is the well-known dependence of the direction of an\nelectrically produced magnetic field on the position of the poles of\nthe electric field.\n\n*\n\nThe insight we have now gained into the nature of electricity has led\nus to the realization that with every act of setting electromagnetic\nenergies in motion we interfere with the entire levity-gravity balance\nof our planet by turning part of the earth's coherent substance into\ncosmic 'dust'. Remembering our picture of radioactivity, in which we\nrecognized a sign of the earth's old age, we may say that whenever we\ngenerate electricity we speed up the earth's process of cosmic ageing.\nObviously this is tremendously enhanced by the creation of artificial\nradioactivity along the lines recently discovered, whereby it has now\nbecome possible to transmute chemical elements into one another, or\neven to cancel altogether their gravity-bound existence.\n\nTo see things in this light is to realize that with our having become\nable to rouse electricity and magnetism from their dormant state and\nmake them work for us, a gigantic responsibility has devolved upon\nmankind. It was man's fate to remain unaware of this fact during the\nfirst phase of the electrification of his civilization; to continue now\nin this state of unawareness would spell peril to the human race.\n\nThe fact that modern science has long ceased to be a 'natural' science\nis something which has begun to dawn upon the modern scientific\nresearcher himself. What has thus come to him as a question finds a\ndefinite answer in the picture of electricity we have been able to\ndevelop. It is again Eddington who has drawn attention particularly to\nthis question: see the chapter, 'Discovery or Manufacture?' in his\nPhilosophy of Physical Science. It will be appropriate at this point to\nrecall his remarks, for they bear not only on the outcome of our own\npresent discussion, but also, as the next chapter will show, on the\nfurther course of our studies.\n\nEddington starts by asking: 'When Lord Rutherford showed us the atomic\nnucleus, did he find it or did he make it?' Whichever answer we give,\nEddington goes on to say, makes no difference to our admiration for\nRutherford himself. But it makes all the difference to our ideas on the\nstructure of the physical universe. To make clear where the modern\nphysicist stands in this respect, Eddington uses a striking comparison.\nIf a sculptor were to point in our presence to a raw block of marble\nsaying that the form of a human head was lying hidden in the block,\n'all our rational instinct would be roused against such an\nanthropomorphic speculation'. For it is inconceivable to us that nature\nshould have placed such a form inside the block. Roused by our\nobjection, the artist proceeds to verify his theory experimentally -\n'with quite rudimentary apparatus, too: merely using a chisel to\nseparate the form for our inspection, he triumphantly proves his\ntheory.'\n\n'Was it in this way', Eddington asks, 'that Rutherford rendered\nconcrete the nucleus which his scientific imagination had created?' One\nthing is certain: 'In every physical laboratory we see ingeniously\ndevised tools for executing the work of sculpture, according to the\ndesigns of the theoretical physicist. Sometimes the tool slips and\ncarves off an odd-shaped form which he had not expected. Then we have a\nnew experimental discovery,'\n\nTo this analogy Eddington adds the following even more drastic one:\n'Procrustes, you will remember,' he says, 'stretched or chopped down\nhis guests to fit the bed he constructed. But perhaps you have not\nheard the rest of the story. He measured them up before they left the\nnext morning, and wrote a learned paper On the Uniformity of Stature of\nTravellers for the Anthropological Society of Attica.'\n\n*\n\nBesides yielding a definite answer to the question of how far the\nseemingly discovered facts of science are manufactured facts, our newly\nwon insight into the nature of the electric and magnetic polarties\nthrows light also on the possibility of so handling both that their\napplication will lead no longer to a cancellation, but to a true\ncontinuation, of nature's own creative deeds.\n\nAn example of this will appear in the next part of our studies, devoted\nto observations in the field of optics.\n\n1 Note that the series starts on the left with graphite, i.e. with\ncarbon. This substance appears here as a metal among metals, and indeed\nas the most 'noble' of all. Electricity in this way reveals a secret of\ncarbon well known to the mediaeval alchemist and still known in our day\nto people in the Orient.\n\n2 There is even a gas which assumes magnetic properties when exposed to\nextreme cold-oxygen in the solid state.\n\n3 By watering plants with water that had been exposed to heat from\ndifferent sources, E. Pfeiffer has shown in the chemical laboratory of\nthe Goetheanum that heat engendered by means of electricity is 'dead'\nheat. It follows that it is not the same for human health whether the\nheat used for cooking or heating purposes is obtained by burning wood\nor coal, or by means of electricity.\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\nColours as 'Deeds and Sufferings of Light'\n\n'As for what I have done as a poet, I take no pride in it whatever.\nExcellent poets have lived at the same time as myself; poets more\nexcellent have lived before me, and others will come after me. But that\nin my century I am the only person who knows the truth in the difficult\nscience of colours - of that, I say, I am not a little proud, and here\nI have a consciousness of a superiority to many.'\n\nIn these words spoken to his secretary, Eckermann, in 1829, a few years\nbefore his death, Goethe gave his opinion on the significance of his\nscientific researches in the field of optical phenomena. He knew that\nthe path he had opened up had led him to truths which belong to the\noriginal truths of mankind. He expressed this by remarking that his\ntheory of colour was 'as old as the world'.\n\nIf in this book we come somewhat late to a discussion of Goethe's\ncolour-theory, in spite of the part it played in his own scientific\nwork, and in spite of its significance for the founding of a physics\nbased on his method, the reasons are these. When Goethe undertook his\nstudies in this field he had not to reckon with the forms of thought\nwhich have become customary since the development of mechanistic and\nabove all - to put it concisely - of 'electricalistic' thinking. Before\na hearing can be gained in our age for a physics of Light and Colour as\nconceived by Goethe, certain hindrances must first be cleared away. So\na picture on the one hand of matter, and on the other of electricity,\nsuch as is given when they are studied by Goethean methods, had first\nto be built up; only then is the ground provided for an unprejudiced\njudgment of Goethe's observations and the deductions that can be made\nfrom them to-day.\n\nAs Professor Heisenberg, in his lecture quoted earlier (Chapter II),\nrightly remarks, Goethe strove directly with Newton only in the realms\nof colour-theory and optics. Nevertheless his campaign was not merely\nagainst Newton's opinions in this field. He was guided throughout by\nthe conviction that the fundamental principles of the whole Newtonian\noutlook were at stake. It was for this reason that his polemics against\nNewton were so strongly expressed, although he had no fondness for such\ncontroversies. In looking back on that part of the Farbenlehre which he\nhad himself called 'Polemical' in the title, he said to Eckermann: 'I\nby no means disavow my severe dissections of the Newtonian statements;\nit was necessary at the time and will also have its value hereafter;\nbut at bottom all polemical action is repugnant to my nature, and I can\ntake but little pleasure in it.'\n\nThe reason why Goethe chose optics as the field of conflict, and\ndevoted to it more than twenty years of research and reflexion, amidst\nall the other labours of his rich life, lay certainly in his individual\ntemperament - 'zum Sehen geboren, zum Schauen bestellt'.1 At the same\ntime one must see here a definite guidance of humanity. Since the hour\nhad struck for mankind to take the first step towards overcoming the\nworld-conception of the one-eyed, colour-blind onlooker, what step\ncould have been more appropriate than this of Goethe's, when he raised\nthe eye's capacity for seeing colours to the rank of an instrument of\nscientific cognition?\n\nIn point of fact, the essential difference between Goethe's theory of\ncolour and the theory which has prevailed in science (despite all\nmodifications) since Newton's day, lies in this: While the theory of\nNewton and his successors was based on excluding the colour-seeing\nfaculty of the eye, Goethe founded his theory on the eye's experience\nof colour.\n\n*\n\nIn view of the present scientific conception of the effect which a\nprismatic piece of a transparent medium has on light passing through\nit, Goethe's objection to Newton's interpretation and the conclusions\ndrawn from it seems by no means as heretical as it did in Goethe's own\ntime and for a hundred years afterwards. For, as Lord Rayleigh and\nothers have shown, the facts responsible for the coming into being of\nthe spectral colours, when these are produced by a diffraction grating,\ninvalidate Newton's idea that the optical apparatus serves to reveal\ncolours which are inherent in the original light. Today it is known\nthat these colours are an outcome of the interference of the apparatus\n(whether prism or grating) with the light. Thus we find Professor R. W.\nWood, in the opening chapter of his Physical Optics, after having\ndescribed the historical significance of Newton's conception of the\nrelation between light and colour, saying: 'Curiously enough, this\ndiscovery, which we are taking as marking the beginning of a definite\nknowledge about light, is one which we shall demolish in the last\nchapter of this book,2 for our present ideas regarding the action of\nthe prism more nearly resemble the idea held previous to Newton's\nclassical experiments. We now believe that the prism actually\nmanufactures the coloured light.'\n\nWe find ourselves faced here with an instance of the problem,\n'Discovery or Manufacture?' dealt with by Eddington in the manner\ndescribed in our previous chapter. This very instance is indeed used by\nEddington himself as a case in which the answer is definitely in favour\nof 'manufacture'. Nevertheless, Eddington complains, experts, in spite\nof knowing better, keep to the traditional way of speaking about the\nspectral colours as being originally contained in the light. 'Such is\nthe glamour of a historical experiment.'3 It is for the same reason\nthat Goethe's discovery continues to be unrecognized by the majority of\nscientists, who prefer, instead of examining the question for\nthemselves, to join in the traditional assertion that 'Goethe never\nunderstood Newton'.\n\n*\n\nAs Goethe relates at the conclusion of the 'historical' part of his\nFarbenlehre,4 he was drawn to study colour by his wish to gain some\nknowledge of the objective laws of aesthetics. He felt too close to\npoetry to be able to study it with sufficient detachment, so he turned\nto painting - an art with which he felt sufficiently familiar without\nbeing connected with it creatively - hoping that if he could discover\nthe laws of one art they would prove applicable to others.\n\nHis visit to Italy, a land rich both in natural colour and in works of\nart, gave him a welcome opportunity to pursue this inquiry, but for a\nlong time he made no headway. The paintings he saw suggested no\ninherent law in their arrangement of colours, nor could the painters he\nquestioned tell him of one. The only qualitative distinction they\nseemed to recognize was between 'cold' and 'warm' colours.\n\nHis own observations led him to a definite experience of the quality of\nthe colour blue, for which he coined the phrase 'feebleness of blue'\n('Ohnmacht des Blau'). In some way this colour seemed to him to be\nrelated to black. In order to rouse his artist friends and to stimulate\ntheir reflexions, he liked to indulge in paradoxes, as when he asserted\nthat blue was not a colour at all. He found, however, as time went on,\nthat in this way he came no nearer his goal.\n\nAlthough the splendour of colour in the Italian sky and the Italian\nlandscape made a powerful impression on Goethe, he found not enough\nopportunity for systematic study to allow him to arrive at more than a\ndim surmise of some law underlying the occurrence of colour in nature.\nStill, there was one thing he took home with him as a result of his\nlabours. He had grown convinced that 'the first approach to colours as\nphysical phenomena had to be sought from the side of their occurrence\nin nature, if one would gain an understanding of them in relation to\nart'.\n\nBack at home, he strove to recollect the theory of Newton as it was\nbeing taught in schools and universities - namely, that 'colours in\ntheir totality are contained in light'. Hitherto he had had no occasion\nto doubt the correctness of this theory. Like everyone else, he had\nheard it expounded in lectures as an incontestable result of empirical\nobservation, though without this ever having been shown to him by way\nof experiment. He convinced himself by consulting a manual that his\nrecollection was correct, but at the same time he found that the theory\nthere set forth gave no help in answering his questions.5 So he decided\nto examine the phenomena for himself.\n\nFor this purpose he borrowed a set of prisms from a friend living in\nnear-by Jena, the physicist, B\u00c3\u00bcttner. Since, however, he had at that time\nno opportunity of arranging a dark chamber on Newton's lines, where the\nnecessary ray of light from a tiny hole in the window-covering was sent\nthrough a prism, he postponed the whole thing, until in the midst of\nall his many other interests and duties it was forgotten. In vain B\u00c3\u00bcttner\npressed many times for the return of the prisms; at last he sent a\nmutual acquaintance with the injunction not to return without them.\nGoethe then searched for the long-neglected apparatus and determined to\ntake a rapid glance through one of the prisms before he gave them back.\n\nHe recalled dimly his pleasure as a boy at the vision of the world\ngiven him through a bit of similarly shaped glass. 'I well remember\nthat everything looked coloured, but in what manner I could no longer\nrecollect. I was just then in a room completely white; remembering the\nNewtonian theory, I expected, as I put the prism to my eye, to find the\nwhole white wall coloured in different hues and to see the light\nreflected thence into the eye, split into as many coloured lights.\n\n'But how astonished was I when the white wall seen through the prism\nremained white after as before. Only where something dark came against\nit a more or less decided colour was shown, and at last the window-bars\nappeared most vividly coloured, while on the light-grey sky outside no\ntrace of colouring was to be seen. It did not need any long\nconsideration for me to recognize that a boundary or edge is necessary\nto call forth the colours, and I immediately said aloud, as though by\ninstinct, that the Newtonian doctrine is false.'\n\nFor Goethe, there could be no more thought of sending back the prisms,\nand he persuaded B\u00c3\u00bcttner to leave them with him for some time longer.\n\nGoethe adds a short account of the progress of the experiments he now\nundertook as well as of his efforts to interest others in his\ndiscovery. He makes grateful reference to those who had brought him\nunderstanding, and who had been helpful to him through the exchange of\nthoughts. Among these, apart from Schiller, whom Goethe especially\nmentions, we find a number of leading anatomists, chemists, writers and\nphilosophers of his time, but not a single one of the physicists then\nactive in teaching or research. The 'Guild' took up an attitude of\ncomplete disapproval or indifference, and so have things remained till\na hundred years after his death, as Goethe himself prophesied.\n\nOne of the first systematic pieces of work which Goethe undertook in\norder to trace the cause of the Newtonian error was to go through Book\nI of Newton's Optics, sentence by sentence, recapitulate Newton's\nexperiments and rearrange them in the order which seemed to him\nessential. In so doing he gained an insight which was fundamental for\nall future work, and often proved very beneficial in the perfecting of\nhis own methods. His examination of the Newtonian procedure showed him\nthat the whole mistake rested on the fact that 'a complicated\nphenomenon should have been taken as a basis, and the simpler explained\nfrom the complex'. Nevertheless, it still needed 'much time and\napplication in order to wander through all the labyrinths with which\nNewton had been pleased to confuse his successors'.\n\n*\n\nIt seems a small thing, and yet it is a great one, which Goethe, as the\nabove description shows, discovered almost by chance. This is shown by\nthe conclusions to which he was led in the systematic prosecutions of\nhis discovery. An account of them is given in his Beitr\u00c3\u00a4ge zur Optik,6\npublished in 1791, the year in which Galvani came before the public\nwith his observations in the sphere of electricity.\n\nGoethe describes in this book the basic phenomena of the creation of\nthe prismatic colours, with particulars of a number of experiments so\narranged that the truth he had discovered, contrary to Newton's view,\ncomes to light through the very phenomena themselves. Only much later,\nin the year 1810, and after he had brought to a certain conclusion four\nyears previously the researches which he had pursued most carefully the\nwhole time, did he make public the actual masterpiece, Entwurf einer\nFarbenlehre.7 (An English translation of the didactic part appeared\nabout ten years after Goethe's death.)\n\nWhile leaving a more detailed description of the composition of\nGoethe's Entwurf for our next chapter, we shall here deal at once with\nsome of the essential conclusions to which the reader is led in this\nbook. As already mentioned, Goethe's first inspection of the\ncolour-phenomenon produced by the prism had shown him that the\nphenomenon depended on the presence of a boundary between light and\ndarkness. Newton's attempt to explain the spectrum out of light alone\nappeared to him, therefore, as an inadmissible setting aside of one of\nthe two necessary conditions. Colours, so Goethe gleaned directly from\nthe prismatic phenomenon, are caused by both light and its counterpart,\ndarkness. Hence, to arrive at an idea of the nature of colour, which\nwas in accord with its actual appearance, he saw himself committed to\nan investigation of the extent to which the qualitative differences in\nour experience of colours rests upon their differing proportions of\nlight and darkness.\n\nIt is characteristic of Goethe's whole mode of procedure that he at\nonce changed the question, 'What is colour?' into the question, 'How\ndoes colour arise?' It was equally characteristic that he did not, as\nNewton did, shut himself into a darkened room, so as to get hold of the\ncolour-phenomenon by means of an artificially set-up apparatus.\nInstead, he turned first of all to nature, to let her give him the\nanswer to the questions she had raised.\n\nIt was clear to Goethe that to trace the law of the genesis of colour\nin nature by reading her phenomena, he must keep a look-out for\noccurrences of colours which satisfied the conditions of the Ur-ph\u00c3\u00a4nomen,\nas he had learned to know it. This meant that he must ask of nature\nwhere she let colours arise out of light and darkness in such a way\nthat no other conditions contributed to the effect.\n\nHe saw that such an effect was presented to his eye when he turned his\ngaze on the one hand to the blue sky, and on the other to the yellowish\nluminous sun. Where we see the blue of the heavens, there, spread out\nbefore our eyes, is universal space, which as such is dark. Why it does\nnot appear dark by day as well as by night is because we see it through\nthe sun-illumined atmosphere. The opposite role is played by the\natmosphere when we look through it to the sun. In the first instance it\nacts as a lightening, in the second as a darkening, medium.\nAccordingly, when the optical density of the air changes as a result of\nits varying content of moisture, the colour-phenomenon undergoes an\nopposite change in each of the two cases. Whilst with increasing\ndensity of the air the blue of the sky brightens up and gradually\npasses over into white, the yellow of the sun gradually darkens and\nfinally gives way to complete absence of light.\n\nThe ur-phenomenon having once been discovered in the heavens, could\nthen easily be found elsewhere in nature on a large or small scale-as,\nfor instance, in the blue of distant hills when the air is sufficiently\nopaque, or in the colour of the colourless, slightly milky opal which\nlooks a deep blue when one sees it against a dark background, and a\nreddish yellow when one holds it against the light. The same phenomenon\nmay be produced artificially through the clouding of glass with\nsuitable substances, as one finds in various glass handicraft objects.\nThe aesthetic effect is due to the treated glass being so fashioned as\nto present continually changing angles to the light, when both\ncolour-poles and all the intermediate phases appear simultaneously. It\nis also possible to produce the ur-phenomenon experimentally by placing\na glass jug filled with water before a black background, illuminating\nthe jug from the side, and gradually clouding the water by the\nadmixture of suitable substances. Whilst the brightness appearing in\nthe direction of the light goes over from yellow and orange to an\nincreasingly red shade, the darkness of the black background brightens\nto blue, which increases and passes over to a milky white.\n\nIt had already become clear to Goethe in Italy that all\ncolour-experience is based on a polarity, which he found expressed by\npainters as the contrast between 'cold' and 'warm' colours. Now that\nthe coming-into-being of the blue of the sky and of the yellow of the\nsun had shown themselves to him as two processes of opposite character,\nhe recognized in them the objective reason why both colours are\nsubjectively experienced by us as opposites. 'Blue is illumined\ndarkness - yellow is darkened light' - thus could he assert the\nurphenomenon, while he expressed the relation to Light of colours in\ntheir totality by saying: 'Colours are Deeds and Sufferings of Light.'\n\nWith this, Goethe had taken the first decisive step towards his goal -\nthe tracing of man's aesthetic experience to objective facts of nature.\n\nIf we use the expressions of preceding chapters, we can say that\nGoethe, in observing the coloured ur-phenomenon, had succeeded in\nfinding how from the primary polarity, Light-Dark, the opposition of\nthe yellow and blue colours arises as a secondary polarity. For such an\ninterplay of light and darkness, the existence of the air was seen to\nbe a necessary condition, representing in the one case a lightening, in\nthe other, a darkening element. That it was able to play this double\nrole arose from its being on the one hand pervious to light, while yet\npossessing a certain substantial density. For a medium of such a nature\nGoethe coined the expression tr\u00c3\u00bcbes Medium.\n\nThere seems to be no suitable word in English for rendering the term tr\u00c3\u00bcbe\nin the sense in which Goethe used it to denote the optical resistance\nof a more or less transparent medium. The following remarks of\nGoethe's, reported by his secretary Riemer, will give the reader a\npicture of what Goethe meant by this term, clear enough to allow us to\nuse the German word. Goethe's explanation certainly shows how\ninadequate it is to translate tr\u00c3\u00bcbe by 'cloudy' or 'semi-opaque' as\ncommentators have done. 'Light and Dark have a common field, a space, a\nvacuum in which they are seen to appear. This space is the realm of the\ntransparent. Just as the different colours are related to Light and\nDark as their creative causes, so is their corporeal part, their\nmedium, Tr\u00c3\u00bcbe, related to the transparent. The first diminution of the\ntransparent, i.e. the first slightest filling of space, the first\ndisposition, as it were, to the corporeal, i.e. the non-transparent -\nthis is Tr\u00c3\u00bcbe.'8\n\nAfter Goethe had once determined from the macrotelluric phenomenon that\nan interplay of light and darkness within Tr\u00c3\u00bcbe was necessary for the\nappearance of colour in space, he had no doubt that the prismatic\ncolours, too, could be understood only through the coming together of\nall these three elements. It was now his task to examine in what way\nthe prism, by its being tr\u00c3\u00bcbe, brings light and darkness, or, as he also\nexpressed it, light and shadow, into interplay, when they meet at a\nboundary.\n\nWe must remember that on first looking through the prism Goethe had\nimmediately recognized that the appearance of colour is always\ndependent on the existence of a boundary between light and darkness -\nin other words, that it is a border phenomenon. What colours appear on\nsuch a border depends on the position of light and darkness in relation\nto the base of the prism. If the lighter part is nearer to the base,\nthen blue and violet tints are seen at the border, and with the reverse\nposition tints of yellow and red (Plate B, Fig. i). Along this path of\nstudy Goethe found no reason for regarding the spectrum-phenomenon as\ncomplete only when both kinds of border-phenomena appear simultaneously\n(let alone when - as a result of the smallness of the aperture through\nwhich the light meets the prism - the two edges lie so close that a\ncontinuous band of colour arises). Hence we find Goethe - unlike Newton\n- treating the two ends of the spectrum as two separate phenomena.\n\nIn this way, the spectrum phenomenon gave Goethe confirmation that he\nhad succeeded in expressing in a generally valid form the law of the\norigin of the blue and the yellow colours, as he had read it from the\nheavens. For in the spectrum, too, where the colour blue appears, there\nhe saw darkness being lightened by a shifting of the image of the\nborder between light and dark in the direction of darkness; where\nyellow appears, he saw light being darkened by a shifting of the image\nin the direction of light. (See the arrow in Fig. i.)\n\nIn the colours adjoining these - indigo and violet on the blue side,\norange and red on the yellow side - Goethe recognized 'heightened'\nmodifications of blue and yellow. Thus he had learnt from the\nmacro-telluric realm that with decreasing density of the corporeal\nmedium, the blue sky takes on ever deeper tones, while with increasing\ndensity of the medium, the yellow of the sunlight passes over into\norange and finally red. Prismatic phenomenon and macrotelluric\nphenomenon were seen to correspond in this direction, too.\n\nFaithful to his question, 'How does colour arise?' Goethe now proceeded\nto investigate under what conditions two borders, when placed opposite\neach other, provide a continuous band of colour - that is, a\ncolour-band where, in place of the region of uncoloured light, green\nappears. This, he observed, came about if one brought one's eye, or the\nscreen intercepting the light, to that distance from the prism where\nthe steadily widening yellow-red and the blue-violet colour-cones merge\n(Fig. ii).9 Obviously, this distance can be altered by altering the\ndistance between the two borders. In the case of an extremely narrow\nlight-space, the blue and yellow edges will immediately overlap. Yet\nthe emergence of the green colour will always be due to a union of the\nblue and yellow colours which spread from the two edges. This convinced\nGoethe that it is inadmissible to place the green in the spectrum in\nline with the other colours, as is customary in the explanation of the\nspectrum since Newton's time.\n\nThis insight into the relation of the central colour of the continuous\nspectrum to its other colours still further strengthened Goethe's\nconviction that in the way man experiences nature in his soul,\nobjective laws of nature come to expression. For just as we experience\nthe colours on the blue side of the spectrum as cold colours, and those\non the yellow side as warm colours, so does green give man the\nimpression of a neutral colour, influencing us in neither direction.\nAnd just as the experience of the two polar colour-ranges is an\nexpression of the objective natural law behind them, so too is the\nexperience of green, the objective conditions of whose origin give it a\nneutral position between the two. With this it also became clear why\nthe vegetative part of the plant organism, the region of leaf and stem\nformation, where the light of the sun enters into a living union with\nthe density of earthly substance, must appear in a garment of green.\n\n*\n\nHaving in this way found the clue to the true genesis of the spectrum,\nGoethe could not fail to notice that it called for another - a\n'negative' spectrum, its polar opposite - to make the half into a\nwhole. For he who has once learnt that light and darkness are two\nequally essential factors in the birth of colour, and that the opposing\nof two borders of darkness so as to enclose a light is a 'derived'\n(abgeleitet) experimental arrangement, is naturally free to alter the\narrangement and to supplement it by reversing the order of the two\nborders, thus letting two lights enclose a darkness between them.\n\nIf one exposes an arrangement like this to the action of the prism,\nwhose position has remained unchanged, colours appear on each of the\ntwo edges, as before, but in reverse order (Fig. iii). The spectral\nphenomenon now begins at one side with light blue and passes into\nindigo and violet, with uncoloured darkness in the centre. From this\ndarkness it emerges through red and passes through orange to yellow at\nthe other end.\n\nAgain, where the two interior colour-cones merge, there an additional\ncolour appears. Like green, it is of a neutral character, but at the\nsame time its quality is opposite to that of green. In Newtonian\noptics, which assumes colour to be derived from light only, this colour\nhas naturally no existence. Yet in an optics which has learnt to reckon\nwith both darkness and light as generators of colour, the complete\nspectrum phenomenon includes this colour equally with green. For lack\nof an existing proper name for it, Goethe termed it 'pure red' (since\nit was free from both the blue tinge of the mauve, and the yellow tinge\nof the red end of the ordinary spectrum), or 'peach-blossom'\n(pfirsichbl\u00c3\u00bct), or 'purple' (as being nearest to the dye-stuff so called\nby the ancients after the mollusc from which it was obtained).10\n\nIt needs only a glance through the prism into the sunlit world to make\none convinced of the natural appearing of this delicate and at the same\ntime powerfully luminous colour. For a narrow dark object on a light\nfield is a much commoner occurrence in nature than the enclosing by two\nbroad objects of a narrow space of light, the condition necessary for\nthe emergence of a continuous colour-band with green in the middle. In\nfact, the spectrum which science since the time of Newton regards as\nthe only one, appears much more rarely among natural conditions than\ndoes Goethe's counter-spectrum.\n\nWith the peach-blossom a fresh proof is supplied that what man\nexperiences in his soul is in harmony with the objective facts of\nnature. As with green, we experience peach-blossom as a colour that\nleaves us in equilibrium. With peach-blossom, however, the equilibrium\nis of a different kind, owing to the fact that it arises from the union\nof the colour-poles, not at their original stage but in their\n'heightened' form. And so green, the colour of the plant-world harmony\ngiven by nature, stands over against 'purple', the colour of the human\nbeing striving towards harmony. By virtue of this quality, purple\nserved from antiquity for the vesture of those who have reached the\nhighest stage of human development for their time. This characteristic\nof the middle colours of the two spectra was expressed by Goethe when\nhe called green 'real totality', and peach-blossom 'ideal totality'.\n\nFrom this standpoint Goethe was able to smile at the Newtonians. He\ncould say that if they persisted in asserting that the colourless,\nso-called 'white' light is composed of the seven colours of the\nordinary spectrum - red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet -\nthen they were in duty bound to maintain also that the colourless,\n'black' darkness is composed of the seven colours of the inverted\nspectrum - yellow, orange, red, purple, violet, indigo, blue.\n\nDespite the convincing force of this argument, the voice of the Hans\nAndersen child speaking through Goethe failed to gain a hearing among\nthe crowd of Newtonian faithful. So has it been up to the present day -\nregardless of the fact that, as we have shown, modern physics has\nreached results which make a contradiction of the Newtonian concept of\nthe mutual relation of light and colour no longer appear so heretical\nas it was in Goethe's time.\n\n*\n\nWhen we compare the way in which Goethe, on the one hand, and the\nphysical scientist, on the other, have arrived at the truth that what\nNewton held to be 'discovery' was in actual fact 'manufacture', we find\nourselves faced with another instance of a fact which we have\nencountered before in our study of electricity. It is the fact that a\ntruth, which reveals itself to the spectator-scientist only as the\nresult of a highly advanced experimental research, can be recognized\nthrough quite simple observation when this observation is carried out\nwith the intention of letting the phenomena themselves speak for their\n'theory'.\n\nFurthermore, there is a corresponding difference in the effect the\nknowledge of such truth has on the human mind. In the field of\nelectricity we saw that together with the scientist's recognition of\nthe absolute qualities of the two polar forms of electricity a false\nsemblance of reality was lent to the hypothesis of the atomic structure\nof matter. Something similar has occurred in the field of optics. Here,\nafter having been forced to recognize the fallacy of Newton's theory,\nthe spectator's mind has been driven to form a concept of the nature of\nlight which is further than ever from the truth. For what then remains\nof light is - in Eddington's words - a 'quite irregular disturbance,\nwith no tendency to periodicity', which means that to light is assigned\nthe quality of an undefined chaos (in the negative sense of this word)\nsprung from pure chance.\n\nMoreover, as Eddington shows, the question whether the optical\ncontrivance 'sorts out' from the chaotic light a particular\nperiodicity, or whether it 'impresses' this on the light, becomes just\n'a matter of expression'.11 So here, too, the modern investigator is\ndriven to a resigned acknowledgment of the principle of Indeterminacy.\n\nNo such conclusions are forced upon the one who studies the spectrum\nphenomenon with the eyes of Goethe. Like the modern experimenter, he,\ntoo, is faced with the question 'Discovery or Manufacture?' and he,\ntoo, finds the answer to be 'Manufacture'. But to him nature can\ndisclose herself as the real manufacturer, showing him how she goes to\nwork in bringing about the colours, because in following Goethe he is\ncareful to arrange his observations in such a way that they do not veil\nnature's deeds.\n\n1 'To see is my dower, to look my employ.' Words of the Tower-Watcher\nin Faust, II, 5, through which Goethe echoes his own relation to the\nworld.\n\n2 The last chapter but two in the edition of 1924.\n\n3 For the drastic and as such very enlightening way in which Eddington\npresents the problem, the reader is referred to Eddington's own\ndescription.\n\n4 Konfession des Verfassers.\n\n5 Colour as quality being no essential factor in the scientific\nexplanation of the spectrum.\n\n6 Contributions to Optics.\n\n7 Outline of a Theory of Colour.\n\n8 See Rudolf Steiner's edition of Goethe's Farbenlehre under\nParalipomena zur Chromatik, No. 27.\n\n9 Goethe's own representation of the phenomenon. (The diagram is\nsimplified by omitting one colour on each side.)\n\n10 This is not to be confused with the meaning of 'purple' in modern\nEnglish usage.\n\n11 This follows from the application of Fourier's Theorem, according to\nwhich every vibration of any kind is divisible into a sum of periodic\npartial vibrations, and therefore is regarded as compounded of these.\n\n\nCHAPTER XV\n\nSeeing as 'Deed' - I\n\nHaving made ourselves so far acquainted with the fundamentals of\nGoethe's approach to the outer phenomena of colour involved in the\nspectrum, we will leave this for a while to follow Goethe along another\nno less essential line of inquiry. It leads us to the study of our own\nprocess of sight, by means of which we grow aware of the optical facts\nin outer space.\n\n*\n\nThe importance which Goethe himself saw in this aspect of the optical\nproblem is shown by the place he gave it in the didactic part of his\nFarbenlehre. The first three chapters, after the Introduction, are\ncalled 'Physiological Colours', 'Physical Colours', and 'Chemical\nColours'. In the first chapter, Goethe summarizes a group of phenomena\nwhich science calls 'subjective' colours, since their origin is traced\nto events within the organ of sight. The next chapter deals with an\nactual physics of colour - that is, with the appearance of colours in\nexternal space as a result of the refraction, diffraction and\npolarization of light. The third chapter treats of material colours in\nrelation to chemical and other influences. After two chapters which\nneed not concern us here comes the sixth and last chapter, entitled\n'Physical-Moral Effect of Colour' ('Sinnlich-sittliche Wirkung der\nFarben'), which crowns the whole. There, for the first time in the\nhistory of modern science, a bridge is built between Physics,\nAesthetics and Ethics. We remember it was with this aim in view that\nGoethe had embarked upon his search for the solution of the problem of\ncolour.\n\nIn this chapter the experiencing of the various colours and their\ninterplay through the human soul is treated in many aspects, and Goethe\nis able to show that what arises in man's consciousness as qualitative\ncolour-experience is nothing but a direct 'becoming-inward' of what is\nmanifested to the 'reader's' eye and mind as the objective nature of\ncolours. So, in one realm of the sense-world, Goethe succeeded in\nclosing the abyss which divides existence and consciousness, so long as\nthe latter is restricted to a mere onlooker-relationship towards the\nsense-world.\n\nIf we ask what induced Goethe to treat the physiological colours before\nthe physical colours, thus deviating so radically from the order\ncustomary in science, we shall find the answer in a passage from the\nIntroduction to his Entwurf. Goethe, in giving his views on the\nconnexion between light and the eye, says: 'The eye owes its existence\nto light. Out of indifferent auxiliary animal organs the light calls\nforth an organ for itself, similar to its own nature; thus the eye is\nformed by the light, for the light, so that the inner light can meet\nthe outer.' In a verse, which reproduces in poetic form a thought\noriginally expressed by Plotinus, Goethe sums up his idea of the\ncreative connexion between eye and light as follows:\n\n' Unless our eyes had something of the sun, How could we ever look upon\nthe light? Unless there lived within us God's own might, How could the\nGodlike give us ecstasy?1\n\n(Trans. Stawell-Dickinson)\n\nBy expressing himself in this way in the Introduction to his\nFarbenlehre, Goethe makes it clear from the outset that when he speaks\nof 'light' as the source of colour-phenomena, he has in mind an idea of\nlight very different from that held by modern physics. For in dealing\nwith optics, physical science turns at once to phenomena of light found\noutside man - in fact to phenomena in that physical realm from which,\nas the lowest of the kingdoms of nature, the observations of natural\nscience are bound to start. Along this path one is driven, as we have\nseen, to conceive of light as a mere 'disturbance' in the universe, a\nkind of irregular chaos.\n\nIn contrast to this, Goethe sees that to gain an explanation of natural\nphysical phenomena which will be in accord with nature, we must\napproach them on the path by which nature brings them into being. In\nthe field of light this path is one which leads from light as creative\nagent to light as mere phenomenon. The highest form of manifestation of\ncreative light most directly resembling its Idea is within man. It is\nthere that light creates for itself the organ through which, as\nmanifest light, it eventually enters into human consciousness. To\nGoethe it was therefore clear that a theory of light, which is to\nproceed in accord with nature, should begin with a study of the eye:\nits properties, its ways of acting when it brings us information of its\ndeeds and sufferings in external nature.\n\nThe eye with its affinity to light comes into being in the apparently\ndark space of the mother's womb. This points to the possession by the\nhuman organism of an 'inner' light which first forms the eye from\nwithin, in order that it may afterwards meet the light outside. It is\nthis inner light that Goethe makes the starting-point of his\ninvestigations, and it is for this reason that he treats physiological\ncolours before physical colours.\n\n*\n\nOf fundamental significance as regards method is the way in which\nGoethe goes on from the passage quoted above to speak of the activity\nof the inner light: 'This immediate affinity between light and the eye\nwill be denied by none; to consider them identical in substance is less\neasy to comprehend. It will be more intelligible to assert that a\ndormant light resides in the eye, and that this light can be excited by\nthe slightest cause from within or from without. In darkness we can, by\nan effort of imagination, call up the brightest images; in dreams,\nobjects appear to us as in broad daylight; if we are awake, the\nslightest external action of light is perceptible, and if the organ\nsuffers a mechanical impact light and colours spring forth.'\n\nWhat Goethe does here is nothing less than to follow the development of\nsight to where it has its true origin. Let us remember that a general\nsource of illusion in the modern scientific picture of the world lies\nin the fact that the onlooker-consciousness accepts itself as a\nself-contained ready-made entity, instead of tracing itself genetically\nto the states of consciousness from which it has developed in the\ncourse of evolution. In reality, the consciousness kindled by outer\nsense-perception was preceded by a dreaming consciousness, and this by\na sleeping consciousness, both for the individual and for humanity as a\nwhole. So, too, outer vision by means of the physical apparatus of the\neye was preceded by an inner vision. In dreams we still experience this\ninner vision; we use it in the activity of our picture-forming\nimagination; and it plays continuously upon the process of external\nsight. Why we fail to notice this when using our eye in the ordinary\nway, is because of that dazzling process mentioned earlier in this\nbook. Goethe's constant endeavour was not to become the victim of this\nblindness - that is, not to be led by day-time experience to forget the\nnight-side of human life. The passage quoted from the Introduction to\nhis Farbenlehre shows how, in all that he strove for, he kept this goal\nin view.\n\nHow inevitably a way of thinking that seeks an intuitive understanding\nof nature is led to views like those of Goethe is shown by the\nfollowing quotations from Reid and Ruskin, expressing their view of the\nrelationship between the eye, or the act of seeing, and external\noptical phenomena. In his Inquiry, at the beginning of his review of\nvisual perceptions, Reid says:\n\n'The structure of the eye, and of all its appurtenances, the admirable\ncontrivances of nature for performing all its various external and\ninternal motions and the variety in the eyes of different animals,\nsuited to their several natures and ways of life, clearly demonstrate\nthis organ to be a masterpiece of nature's work. And he must be very\nignorant of what hath been discovered about it, or have a very strange\ncast of understanding, who can seriously doubt, whether or not the rays\nof light and the eye were made for one another with consummate wisdom,\nand perfect skill in optics.''3\n\nThe following passage from Ruskin's Ethics of the Dust (Lecture X)\nbrings out his criticism of the scientific way of treating of optical\nphenomena:\n\n'With regard to the most interesting of all their [the philosophers']\nmodes of force-light; they never consider how far the existence of it\ndepends on the putting of certain vitreous and nervous substances into\nthe formal arrangement which we call an eye. The German philosophers\nbegan the attack, long ago, on the other side, by telling us there was\nno such thing as light at all, unless we choose to see it.2 Now, German\nand English, both, have reversed their engines, and insist that light\nwould be exactly the same light that it is, though nobody could ever\nsee it. The fact being that the force must be there, and the eye there,\nand 'light' means the effect of the one on the other - and perhaps,\nalso - (Plato saw farther into that mystery than anyone has since, that\nI know of) - on something a little way within the eyes.'\n\nRemarks like these, and the further quotation given below, make it seem\nparticularly tragic that Ruskin apparently had no knowledge of Goethe's\nFarbenlehre. This is the more remarkable in view of the significance\nwhich Turner, with whom Ruskin stood in such close connexion, ascribed\nto it from the standpoint of the artist. For the way in which Ruskin in\nhis Modern Painters speaks of the effect of the modern scientific\nconcept of colours upon the ethical-religious feeling of man, shows\nthat he deplores the lack of just what Goethe had long since achieved\nin his Farbenlehre where, starting with purely physical observations,\nhe had been able to develop from them a 'physical-moral' theory of\ncolour.\n\nRuskin's alertness to the effect on ethical life of a scientific\nworld-picture empty of all qualitative values led him to write:\n\n'It is in raising us from the first state of inactive reverie to the\nsecond of useful thought, that scientific pursuits are to be chiefly\npraised. But in restraining us at this second stage, and checking the\nimpulses towards higher contemplation, they are to be feared or blamed.\nThey may in certain minds be consistent with such contemplation, but\nonly by an effort; in their nature they are always adverse to it,\nhaving a tendency to chill and subdue the feelings, and to resolve all\nthings into atoms and numbers. For most men, an ignorant enjoyment is\nbetter than an informed one, it is better to conceive the sky as a blue\ndome than a dark cavity, and the cloud as a golden throne than a sleety\nmist. I much question whether anyone who knows optics, however\nreligious he may be, can feel in equal degree the pleasure and\nreverence an unlettered peasant may feel at the sight of a rainbow.'\n\nWhat Ruskin did not guess was that the rudiments of the 'moral theory\nof light' for which he craved, as this passage indicates, had been\nestablished by Goethe long before.\n\n*\n\nIn the section of his Farbenlehre dealing with 'physiological colours',\nGoethe devotes by far the most space to the so-called 'afterimages'\nwhich appear in the eye as the result of stimulation by external light,\nand persist for some little time. To create such an afterimage in a\nsimple way, one need only gaze at a brightly lit window and then at a\nfaintly lit wall of the room. The picture of the window appears there,\nbut with the light-values reversed: the dark cross-bar appears as\nlight, and the bright panes as dark.\n\nIn describing this phenomenon Goethe first gives the usual explanation,\nthat the part of the retina which was exposed to the light from the\nwindow-panes gets tired, and is therefore blunted for further\nimpressions, whereas the part on which the image of the dark frame fell\nis rested, and so is more sensitive to the uniform impression of the\nwall. Goethe, however, at once adds that although this explanation may\nseem adequate for this special instance, there are other phenomena\nwhich can be accounted for only if they are held to derive from a\n'higher source'. Goethe means experiences with coloured after-images.\nThis will be confirmed by our own discussion of the subject.\n\nWhat we first need, however, is a closer insight into the physiological\nprocess in the eye which causes the after-images as such. Wherever\nGoethe speaks of a simple activity of the retina, we are in fact\nconcerned with a co-operation of the retina with other parts of our\norgan of sight. In order to make this clear, let us consider how the\neye adapts itself to varying conditions of light and darkness.\n\nIt is well known that if the eye has become adjusted to darkness it is\ndazzled if suddenly exposed to light, even though the light be of no\nmore than quite ordinary brightness. Here we enter a border region\nwhere the seeing process begins to pass over into a pathological\ncondition.4 A 'secret' of the effect of light on the eye is here\nrevealed which remains hidden in ordinary vision, for normally the\ndifferent forces working together in the eye hold each other in\nbalance, so that none is able to manifest separately. This equilibrium\nis disturbed, however, when we suddenly expose the eye to light while\nit is adapted to darkness. The light then acts on the eye in its usual\nway, but without the immediate counter-action which normally restores\nthe balance. Under these conditions we notice that the sudden dazzling\nhas a painful influence on the eye - that is, an influence in some way\ndestructive. This will not seem surprising if we remember that when\nlight strikes on the background of the eye, consciousness is quickened,\nand this, as we know, presupposes a breaking down of substance in some\npart of the nervous system. Such a process does in fact occur in the\nretina, the nerve-part of the eye, when external light falls upon it.\nIf the eye were solely a structure of nerves, it would be so far\ndestroyed by the impact of light that it could not be restored even by\nsleep, as are the more inward parts of the nervous system. But the eye\nreceives also a flow of blood, and we know that throughout the\nthreefold human organism the blood supplies the nervous system with\nbuilding-up forces, polarically opposite to the destructive ones. In\nsleep, as we have already seen, the interruption of consciousness\nallows the blood to inundate the nervous system, as it were, with its\nhealing, building-up activity. It is not necessary, however, for the\nwhole of the body to pass into a condition of sleep before this\nactivity can occur. It functions to some extent also in the waking\nstate, especially in those parts of the organism which, like the eye,\nserve in the highest degree the unfolding of consciousness.\n\nHaving established this, we have a basis for an understanding of the\ncomplete process of vision. We see that it is by no means solely the\nnerve part of the eye which is responsible for vision, as the\nspectator-physiology was bound to imagine. The very fact that the place\nwhere the optic nerve enters the eye is blind indicates that the\nfunction of mediating sight cannot be ascribed to the nerve alone. What\nwe call 'seeing' is far more the result of an interplay between the\nretina carrying the nerves, and the choroid carrying the blood-vessels.\nIn this interplay the nerves are the passive, receptive organ for the\ninworking of external light, while the blood-activity comes to meet the\nnerve-process with a precisely correlated action. In this action we\nfind what Goethe called the 'inner light'.\n\nThe process involved in adaptation now becomes comprehensible. The\ncause of the dazzling effect of light of normal intensity on an eye\nadapted to the dark, is that in such an eye the blood is in a state of\nrest, and this prevents it from exercising quickly enough the necessary\ncounter-action to the influence of the light. A corresponding effect\noccurs when one suddenly exposes to darkness the eye adapted to light.\nOne can easily observe what goes on then, if, after looking for a time\nat an undifferentiated light surface such as the evenly luminous sky,\none covers the opened eyes with the hollowed hands. It will then be\nfound that the space before the eyes is filled by a sort of white\nlight, and by paying close attention one recognizes that it streams\nfrom the eyes out into the hollowed space. It may even be several\nminutes before the field of vision really appears black, that is,\nbefore the activity of the inner light in the choroid has so far died\naway that equilibrium prevails between the non-stimulated nerves and\nthe non-stimulated blood.\n\nWith this insight into the twofold nature of the process of vision we\nare now able to describe more fully the negative after-image. Although\nin this case, as Goethe himself remarked, the ordinary explanation\nseems to suffice, yet in view of our later studies it may be well to\nbring forward here this wider conception.\n\nOn the basis of our present findings it is no longer enough to trace\nthe appearing of the after-image solely to a differential fatigue in\nthe retina. The fact is that as long as the eye is turned to the bright\nwindow-pane a more intensive blood-activity occurs in the portions of\nthe eye's background met by the light than in those where the dark\nwindow-bar throws its shadow on the retina. If the eye so influenced is\nthen directed to the faintly illumined wall of the room, the difference\nin the activity of the blood persists for some time. Hence in the parts\nof the eye adapted to darkness we experience the faint brightness as\nstrongly luminous, even dazzling, whereas in the parts more adapted to\nlight we feel the same degree of brightness to be dark. That the action\nof the inner light is responsible for the differences becomes clear if,\nwhile the negative after-image is still visible, we darken the eye with\nthe hollowed hands. Then at once in the dark field of vision the\npositive facsimile of the window appears, woven by the activity of the\nblood which reproduces the outer reality.\n\nHaving traced the colourless after-image to 'higher sources' - that is,\nto the action of the blood - let us now examine coloured afterimages.\nWe need first to become conscious of the colour-creating light-activity\nwhich resides in the blood. For this purpose we expose the eyes for a\nmoment to an intense light, and then darken them for a sufficient time.\nNothing in external nature resembles in beauty and radiance the play of\ncolour which then arises, unless it be the colour phenomenon of the\nrainbow under exceptionally favourable circumstances.\n\nThe physiological process which comes to consciousness in this way as\nan experience of vision is exactly the same as the process which gives\nus experiences of vision in dreams. There is indeed evidence that when\none awakens in a brightly lit room out of vivid dreaming, one feels\nless dazzled than on waking from dreamless sleep. This indicates that\nin dream vision the blood in the eye is active, just as it is in waking\nvision. The only difference is that in waking consciousness the\nstimulus reaches the blood from outside, through the eye, whereas in\ndreams it comes from causes within the organism. The nature of these\ncauses does not concern us here; it will be dealt with later. For the\nmoment it suffices to establish the fact that our organism is supplied\nwith a definite activity of forces which we experience as the\nappearance of certain images of vision, no matter from which side the\nstimulus comes. All vision, physiologically considered, is of the\nnature of dream vision; that is to say, we owe our day-waking sight to\nthe fact that we are able to encounter the pictures of the outer world,\nbrought to us by the light, with a dreaming of the corresponding\nafter-images.\n\nJust as the simple light-dark after-image shows a reversal of\nlight-values in relation to the external picture, so in the coloured\nafterimages there is a quite definite and opposite relationship of\ntheir colours to those of the original picture. Thus, if the eyes are\nexposed for some time to an impression of the colour red, and then\ndirected to a neutral surface, not too brightly illuminated, one sees\nit covered with a glimmering green. In this way there is a reciprocal\ncorrespondence between the colour-pairs Red-Green, Yellow-Violet,\nBlue-Orange. To whichever of these six colours one exposes the eye, an\nafter-image always appears of its contrast colour, forming with it a\npair of opposites.\n\nWe must here briefly recall how this phenomenon is generally explained\non Newtonian lines. The starting-point is the assumption that the eye\nbecomes fatigued by gazing at the colour and gradually becomes\ninsensitive to it. According to Newton's theory, if an eye thus\naffected looks at a white surface, the sum of all the colours comes\nfrom there to meet it, while the eye has a reduced sensitivity to the\nparticular colour it has been gazing at. And so among the totality of\ncolours constituting the 'white' light, this one is more or less\nnon-existent for the eye. The remaining colours are then believed to\ncause the contrasting colour-impression.\n\nIf we apply the common sense of the Hans Andersen child to this, we see\nwhere it actually leads. For it says no less than this: as long as the\neye is in a normal condition, it tells us a lie about the world, for it\nmakes white light seem something that in reality it is not. For the\ntruth to become apparent, the natural function of the eye must be\nreduced by fatigue. To believe that a body, functioning in this way, is\nthe creation of God, and at the same time to look on this God as a\nBeing of absolute moral perfection, would seem a complete contradiction\nto the Hans Andersen child. In this contradiction and others of the\nsame kind to which nowadays every child is exposed repeatedly and\nwilly-nilly in school lessons and so on - we must seek the true cause\nof the moral uncertainty so characteristic of young people today. It\nwas because Ruskin felt this that he called for a 'moral' theory of\nlight.\n\nSince Goethe did not judge man from artificially devised experiments,\nbut the latter from man, quite simple reflexions led him to the\nfollowing view of the presence of the contrasting colour in the\ncoloured after-images. Nature outside man had taught him that life on\nall levels takes it course in a perpetual interplay of opposites,\nmanifested externally in an interplay of diastole and systole\ncomparable to the process of breathing. He, therefore, traced the\ninterchange of light-values in colourless after-images to a 'silent\nresistance which every vital principle is forced to exhibit when some\ndefinite condition is presented to it. Thus, inhalation presupposes\nexhalation; thus every systole, its diastole. When darkness is\npresented to the eye, the eye demands brightness, and vice versa: it\nreveals its vital energy, its fitness to grasp the object, precisely by\nbringing forth out of itself something contrary to the object.'\n\nConsequently he summarizes his reflexions on coloured afterimages and\ntheir reversals of colour in these words: 'The eye demands actual\ncompleteness and closes the colour-circle in itself.' How true this is,\nthe law connecting the corresponding colours shows, as may be seen in\nthe following diagram. Here, red, yellow and blue as three primary\ncolours confront the three remaining colours, green, violet and orange\nin such a way that each of the latter represents a mixture of the two\nother primary colours. (Fig. 10.)\n\nColour and contrast-colour are actually so related that to whatever\ncolour the eye is exposed it produces a counter-colour so as to have\nthe sum-total of all the three primary colours in itself. And so, in\nconsequence of the interplay of outer and inner light in the eye, there\nis always present in it the totality of all the colours.\n\nIt follows that the appearance of the contrast-colour in the field of\nvision is not, as the Newtonian theory asserts, the result of fatigue,\nbut of an intensified activity of the eye, which continues even after\nthe colour impression which gave rise to it has ceased. What is seen on\nthe neutral surface (it will be shown later why we studiously avoid\nspeaking of 'white light') is no outwardly existing colour at all. It\nis the activity of the eye itself, working in a dreamlike way from its\nblood-vessel system, and coming to our consciousness by this means.\n\nHere again, just as in the simple opposition of light and dark, the\nperception of coloured after-images is connected with a breaking-down\nprocess in the nerve region of the eye, and a corresponding building-up\nactivity coming from the blood. Only in this case the eye is not\naffected by simple light, but by light of a definite colouring. The\nspecific destructive process caused by this light is answered with a\nspecific building-up process by the blood. Under certain conditions we\ncan become dreamily aware of this process which normally does not enter\nour consciousness. In such a case we see the contrasting colour as\ncoloured after-image.\n\nOnly by representing the process in this way do we do justice to a fact\nwhich completely eludes the onlooker-consciousness - namely, that the\neye produces the contrasting colour even while it is still exposed to\nthe influence of the outer colour. Since this is so, all colours\nappearing to us in ordinary vision are already tinged by the subdued\nlight of the opposite colour, produced by the eye itself. One can\neasily convince oneself of this through the following experiment.\nInstead of directing the eye, after it has been exposed to a certain\ncolour, to a neutral surface, as previously, gaze at the appropriate\ncontrasting colour. (The first and second coloured surfaces should be\nso arranged that the former is considerably smaller than the latter.)\nThen, in the middle of the second surface (and in a field about the\nsize of the first), its own colour appears, with a strikingly\nheightened intensity.\n\nHere we find the eye producing, as usual, a contrast-colour from out of\nitself, as an after-image, even while its gaze is fixed on the same\ncolour in the outer world. The heightened brilliance within the given\nfield is due to the addition of the after-image colour to the external\ncolour.\n\nThe reader may wonder why this phenomenon is not immediately adduced as\na decisive proof of the fallacy of the whole Newtonian theory of the\nrelation of 'white' light to the various colours. Although it does in\nfact offer such a proof, we have good reason for not making this use of\nit here. Throughout this book it is never our intention to enter into a\ncontest of explanations, or to defeat one explanation by another. How\nlittle this would help will be obvious if we realize that research was\ncertainly not ignorant of the fact that the opposite colour arises even\nwhen the eye is not turned to a white surface. In spite of this,\nscience did not feel its concept of white light as the sum of all the\ncolours to be an error, since it has succeeded in 'explaining' this\nphenomenon too, and fitting it into the prevailing theory. To do so is\nin thorough accord with spectator-thinking. Our own concern, however,\nas in all earlier cases, is to replace this thinking with all its\n'proofs' and 'explanations' by learning to read in the phenomena\nthemselves. For no other purpose than this the following facts also are\nnow brought forward.\n\n*\n\nBesides Rudolf Steiner's fundamental insight into the\nspiritual-physical nature of the growing human being, through which he\nlaid the basis of a true art of education, he gave advice on many\npractical points. For example, he indicated how by the choice of a\nsuitable colour environment one can bring a harmonizing influence to\nbear on extremes of temperament in little children. To-day it is a\nmatter of practical experience that excitable children are quietened if\nthey are surrounded with red or red-yellow colours, or wear clothes of\nthese colours, whereas inactive, lethargic children are roused to inner\nmovement if they are exposed to the influence of blue or blue-green\ncolours.\n\nThis psychological reaction of children to colour is not surprising if\none knows the role played by the blood in the process of seeing, and\nhow differently the soul-life of man is connected with the blood-nerve\npolarity of his organism in childhood and in later life. What we have\ndescribed as the polar interplay of blood and nerve in the act of sight\nis not confined to the narrow field of the eye. Just as the nerve\nprocesses arising in the retina are continued to the optic centre in\nthe cerebrum, so must we look for the origin of the corresponding blood\nprocess not in the choroid itself, but in the lower regions of the\norganism. Wherever, therefore, the colour red influences the whole\nnerve system, the blood system as a whole answers with an activity of\nthe metabolism corresponding to the contrasting colour, green.\nSimilarly it reacts as a whole to a blue-violet affecting the nerve\nsystem, this time with a production corresponding to yellow-orange.\n\nThe reason why in later years we notice this so little lies in a fact\nwe have repeatedly encountered. The consciousness of the grown man\nto-day, through its one-sided attachment to the death-processes in the\nnerve region, pays no attention to its connexion with the\nlife-processes centred in the blood system. In this respect the\ncondition of the little child is quite different. Just as the child is\nmore asleep in its nerve system than the grown-up person, it is more\nawake in its blood system. Hence in all sense-perceptions a child is\nnot so much aware of how the world works on its nerve system as how its\nblood system responds. And so a child in a red environment feels\nquietened because it experiences, though dimly, how its whole blood\nsystem is stimulated to the green production; bluish colours enliven it\nbecause it feels its blood answer with a production of light yellowish\ntones.\n\nFrom the latter phenomena we see once more the significance of Goethe's\narrangement of his Farbenlehre. For we are now able to realize that to\nturn one's attention to the deeds and sufferings of the inner light\nmeans nothing less than to bring to consciousness the processes of\nvision which in childhood, though in a dreamlike way, determine the\nsoul's experience of seeing. Through placing his examination of the\nphysiological colours at the beginning of his Farbenlehre, Goethe\nactually took the path in scientific research to which Thomas Reid\npointed in philosophy. By adapting Reid's words we can say that Goethe,\nin his Farbenlehre, proclaims as a basic principle of a true Optics:\nthat we must become again as little children if we would reach a\nphilosophy of light and colours.\n\n1W\u00c3\u00a4r' nicht das Auge sonnenhaft,\nWie k\u00c3\u00b6nnten wir das Licht erblicken?\nLebt' nicht in uns des Gottes eigne Kraft,\nWie k\u00c3\u00b6nnt' uns G\u00c3\u00b6ttliches entzucken!\n\n2 Inquiry, VI, 1. The italics are Reid's.\n\n3 Presumably Kant and his school. Schopenhauer was definitely of this\nopinion.\n\n4 As regards the principle underlying the line of consideration\nfollowed here, see the remark made in Chapter V in connexion with\nGoethe's study of the 'proliferated rose' (p. 76f.).\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI\n\nSeeing as 'Deed' - II\n\nThe observation of our own visual process, which we began in the last\nchapter, will serve now to free us from a series of illusory concepts\nwhich have been connected by the onlooker-consciousness with the\nphenomena brought about by light.\n\nThere is first the general assumption that light as such is visible. In\norder to realize that light is itself an invisible agent, we need only\nconsider a few self-evident facts - for instance, that for visibility\nto arise light must always encounter some material resistance in space.\nThis is, in fact, an encounter between light, typifying levity, and the\ndensity of the material world, typifying gravity. Accordingly, wherever\nvisible colours appear we have always to do with light meeting its\nopposite.\n\nOptics, therefore, as a science of the physically perceptible is never\nconcerned with light alone, but always with light and its opposite\ntogether. This is actually referred to in Ruskin's statement, quoted in\nthe last chapter, where he speaks of the need of the 'force' and of the\nintercepting bodily organ before a science of optics can come into\nexistence. Ruskin's 'light', however, is what we have learnt with\nGoethe to call 'colour', whereas that for which we reserve the term\n'light' is called by him simply 'force'.\n\nAll this shows how illusory it is to speak of 'white' light as\nsynonymous with simple light, in distinction to 'coloured' light. And\nyet this has been customary with scientists from the time of Newton\nuntil today, not excluding Newton's critic, Eddington. In fact, white\nexists visibly for the eye as part of the manifested world, and is\ntherefore properly characterized as a colour. This is, therefore, how\nGoethe spoke of it. We shall see presently the special position of\nwhite (and likewise of black), as a colour among colours. What matters\nfirst of all is to realize that white must be strictly differentiated\nfrom light as such, for the function of light is to make visible the\nmaterial world without itself being visible.\n\nTo say that light is invisible, however, does not mean that it is\nwholly imperceptible. It is difficult to bring the perception of light\ninto consciousness, for naturally our attention, when we look out into\nlight-filled space, is claimed by the objects of the illuminated world,\nin all their manifold colours and forms. Nevertheless the effect of\npure light on our consciousness can be observed during a railway\njourney, for instance, when we leave a tunnel that has been long enough\nto bring about a complete adaptation of the eyes to the prevailing\ndarkness. Then, in the first moments of the lightening of the field of\nvision, and before any separate objects catch the attention, we can\nnotice how the light itself exercises a distinctly expanding influence\non our consciousness. We feel how the light calls on the consciousness\nto participate, as it were, in the world outside the body.\n\nIt is possible also to perceive directly the opposite of light. This is\neasier than the direct perception of light, for in the dark one is not\ndistracted by the sight of surrounding objects. One need only pay\nattention to the fact that, after a complete adapting of the eyes to\nthe dark, one still retains a distinct experience of the extension of\nthe field of vision of both eyes. We find here, just as in the case of\nlight, that our will is engaged within the eye in a definite way; a\nsystolic effect proceeds from dark, a diastolic effect from light. We\nhave a distinct perception of both, but not of anything 'visible' in\nthe ordinary sense.\n\nWith regard to our visual experience of white and black, it is quite\ndifferent. We are concerned here with definite conditions of corporeal\nsurfaces, just as with other colours, although the conditions conveying\nthe impressions of white or black are of a special character. A closer\ninspection of these conditions reveals a property of our act of seeing\nwhich has completely escaped scientific observation, but which is of\nfundamental importance for the understanding of optical phenomena\ndynamically.\n\nIt is well known that a corporeal surface, which we experience as\nwhite, has the characteristic of throwing back almost all the light\nthat strikes it, whereas light is more or less completely absorbed by a\nsurface which we experience as black. Such extreme forms of interplay\nbetween light and a corporeal surface, however, do not only occur when\nthe light has no particular colour, but also when a coloured surface is\nstruck by light of the same or opposite colour. In the first instance\ncomplete reflexion takes place; in the second, complete absorption. And\nboth these effects are registered by the eye in precisely the same\nmanner as those mentioned before. For example, a red surface in red\nlight looks simply white; a green surface in red light looks black.\n\nThe usual interpretation of this phenomenon, namely, that it consists\nin a subjective 'contrast' impression of the eye - a red surface in red\nlight looking brighter, a green surface darker, than its surroundings,\nand thereby causing the illusion of white or black - is a typical\nonlooker-interpretation against which there stands the evidence of\nunprejudiced observation. The reality of the 'white' and the 'black'\nseen in such cases is so striking that a person who has not seen the\ncolours of the objects in ordinary light can hardly be persuaded to\nbelieve that they are not 'really' white or black. The fact is that the\nwhite and the black that are seen under these conditions are just as\nreal as 'ordinary' white and black. When in either instance the eye\nregisters 'white' it registers exactly the same event, namely, the\ntotal reflexion of the light by the surface struck by it. Again, when\nthe eye registers 'black' in both cases it registers an identical\nprocess, namely, total absorption of the light.1\n\nSeen thus, the phenomenon informs us of the significant fact that our\neye is not at all concerned with the colour of the light that enters\nits own cavity, but rather with what happens between the light and the\nsurface on which the light falls. In other words, the phenomenon shows\nthat our process of seeing is not confined to the bodily organ of the\neye, but extends into outer space to the point where we experience the\nvisible object to be.2\n\nThis picture of the visual process, to which we have been led here by\nsimple optical observation, was reached by Thomas Reid through his own\nexperience of how, in the act of perceiving the world, man is linked\nintuitively with it. We remember that he intended in his philosophy to\ncarry ad absurdum the hypothesis that 'the images of the external\nobjects are conveyed by the organs of sense to the brain and are there\nperceived by the mind'. Common Sense makes Reid speak as follows: 'If\nany man will shew how the mind may perceive images of the brain, I will\nundertake to shew how it may perceive the most distant objects; for if\nwe give eyes to the mind, to perceive what is transacted at home in its\ndark chamber, why may we not make the eyes a little longer-sighted? And\nthen we shall have no occasion for that unphilosophical fiction of\nimages in the brain.' (Inq., VI, 12.) Reid proceeds to show this by\npointing out, first, that we must only use the idea of 'image' for\ntruly visual perceptions; secondly, that the sole place of this image\nis the background of the eye, and not any part of the nervous system\nlying beyond; thirdly, that even this retina-image, as such, does not\ncome to our consciousness, but serves only to direct the consciousness\nto the cause of the image, namely, the external object itself. In what\nfollows we shall deal with an observation which will show how right\nReid was in this respect.\n\nThose familiar with this observation (well known indeed to those living\nin the hilly and mountainous districts both here and on the Continent)\nknow that when distant features of the landscape, in an otherwise clear\nand sunlit atmosphere, suddenly seem almost near enough to touch, rainy\nweather is approaching. Likewise a conspicuous increase in distance,\nwhile the sky is still overcast, foreshadows fine weather.\n\nThis effect (the customary 'explanation' of which is, as usual, of no\navail to us and so need not concern us here) ranks with phenomena\ndescribed in optics under the name of 'apparent optical depth', a\nsubject we shall discuss more fully in the next chapter. It suffices\nhere to state that it is the higher degree of humidity which, by\nlending the atmosphere greater optical density (without changing its\nclarity), makes distant objects seem to be closer to the eye, and vice\nversa. (If we could substitute for the air a much lighter gas - say,\nhydrogen - then the things we see through it would look farther off\nthan they ever do in our atmosphere.)\n\nObservations such as these show us that (a) when external light strikes\nthe retina of our eye, our inner light is stimulated to move out of the\neye towards it; (b) in pressing outward, this inner light meets with a\ncertain resistance, and the extent of this determines at what distance\nfrom the eye our visual ray comes to rest as the result of a kind of\nexhaustion. Just as the outer light reaches an inner boundary at our\nretina, so does the inner light meet with an outer boundary, set by the\noptical density of the medium spread out before the eye, Outer and\ninner light interpenetrate each other along the whole tract between\nthese two boundaries, but normally we are not conscious of this\nprocess. We first become conscious of it where our active gaze - that\nis, the inner light sent forth through the eye - reaches the limit of\nits activity. At that point we become aware of the object of our gaze.\nSo here we find confirmed a fact noted earlier, that consciousness - at\nleast at its present state of evolution - arises where for some reason\nor other our volition conies to rest.\n\n*\n\nThe foregoing observations have served to awaken us in a preliminary\nway to the fact that an essential part of our act of seeing takes place\noutside our bodily organ of vision and that our visual experience is\ndetermined by what happens out there between our gaze and the medium it\nhas to penetrate. Our next task will be to find out how this part of\nour visual activity is affected by the properties of the different\ncolours. We shall thereby gain a further insight into the nature of the\npolarity underlying all colour-phenomena, and this again will enable us\nto move a step further towards becoming conscious of what happens in\nour act of seeing.\n\nWe shall start by observing what happens to the two sides of the\ncolour-scale when the optical medium assumes various degrees of\ndensity.\n\nFor the sky to appear blue by day a certain purity of the atmosphere is\nneeded. The more veiled the atmosphere becomes the more the blue of the\nsky turns towards white; the purer and rarer the atmosphere, the deeper\nthe blue, gradually approaching to black. To mountain climbers and\nthose who fly at great heights it is a familiar experience to see the\nsky assume a deep indigo hue. There can be no doubt that at still\nhigher altitudes the colour of the sky passes over into violet and\nultimately into pure black. Thus in the case of blue the field of\nvision owes its darkening to a decrease in the resistance by which our\nvisual ray is met in the optical medium. It is precisely the opposite\nwith yellow. For here, as the density of the medium increases, the\ncolour-effect grows darker by yellow darkening first to orange and then\nto red, until finally it passes over into complete darkness.\n\nThis shows that our visual ray is subject to entirely different dynamic\neffects at the two poles of the colour-scale. At the blue pole, the\nlightness-effect springs from the resistant medium through which we\ngaze, a medium under the influence of gravity, while the darkness is\nprovided by the anti-gravity quality of cosmic space, which as a\n'negative' resistance exercises a suction on the eye's inner light. At\nthe yellow pole it is just the reverse. Here, the resistant medium\nbrings about a darkening of our field of vision, while the\nlightness-effect springs from a direct meeting of the eye with light,\nand so with the suctional effect of negative density.\n\nOur pursuit of the dynamic causes underlying our apperception of the\ntwo poles of the colour-scale has led us to a point where it becomes\nnecessary to introduce certain new terms to enable us to go beyond\nGoethe's general distinction between Finsternis (darkness) and Licht\n(light). Following Goethe, we have so far used these two terms for what\nappears both in blue and yellow as the respective light and dark\ningredients. This distinction cannot satisfy us any more. For through\nour last observations it has become clear that the Finsternis in blue\nand the Licht in yellow are opposites only in appearance, because they\nare both caused by Levity, and similarly that the lightening effect in\nblue and the darkening effect in yellow are both effected by Gravity.\nTherefore, to distinguish between what appertains to the primary\npolarity, Levity-Gravity, on the one hand, and their visible effects in\nthe secondary polarity of the colours, on the other, we shall\nhenceforth reserve the term darkness and, with it, lightness for\ninstances where the perceptible components of the respective colours\nare concerned, while speaking of Dark and Light where reference is made\nto the generating primary polarity.\n\n*\n\nIf we are justified in thus tracing the colour-polarity to a\npolarically ordered interplay between levity and gravity, we may then\npursue the following line of thought. We know from earlier\nconsiderations that wherever such an interplay between the poles of the\nprimary polarity takes place, we have to do, in geometric terms, with\nthe polarity of sphere and radius. We may therefore conclude that the\nsame characteristics will apply to the way in which the blue of the sky\nand the yellow of the sunlight are encountered spatially. Now we need\nonly observe how the blue heavens arch over us spherically, on the one\nhand, and how the yellow brightness of the sun penetrates the air\nray-wise, on the other, in order to realize that this really is so.\n\nHaving thus established the connexion of the two poles of the\ncolour-scale with the spherical and radial structure of space, we are\nnow able to express the Goethean ur-phenomenon in a more dynamic way as\nfollows: On the one hand, we see the blue of the heavens emerging when\nlevity is drawn down by gravity from its primal invisibility into\nvisible, spherical manifestation. In the yellow of the sunlight, on the\nother hand, we see gravity, under the influence of the sun's levity,\ngleaming up radially into visibility. The aspect of the two\ncolour-poles which thus arises before us prompts us to replace Goethe's\n'lightened Dark' by Earthward-dawning-Levity, and his 'darkened Light'\nby Heavenward-raying-Gravity.\n\nWe have now to show that this picture of the dynamic relationship which\nunderlies the appearance of the colour-polarity in the sky is valid\nalso for other cases which are instances of the ur-phenomenon of the\ngeneration of colour in Goethe's sense, but seem not to lend themselves\nto the same cosmic interpretation. Such a case is the appearance of\nyellow and blue when we look through a clouded transparent medium\ntowards a source of light or to a black background. There is no special\ndifficulty here in bringing the appearance of yellow into line with its\nmacrotelluric counterpart, but the appearance of blue requires some\nconsideration.\n\nWe have seen that a corporeal surface appears as black if light\nstriking it is totally absorbed by it. Thus, wherever our eye is met by\nthe colour black, our visual ray is engaged in a process whereby light\ndisappears from physical space. Now we need only bring this process\ninto consciousness - as we have tried to do before in similar instances\n- to realize that what happens here to the visual ray is something\nsimilar to what it undergoes when it is directed from the earth into\ncosmic space.\n\nNote, in this respect, the principle of the mirror as another instance\nof the fact that the interplay between light and an illumined surface\ncan have on the visual ray an effect similar to that of external space.\nFor the optical processes which occur on the surface of a mirror are\nsuch that, whilst taking place on a two-dimensional plane, they evoke\nin our consciousness pictures of exactly the same nature as if we were\nlooking through the mirror into the space behind it.\n\n*\n\nThe value of our picture of the colour-polarity is shown further if we\nobserve how natural phenomena based on the same kind of polarity in\nother realms of nature fit in with it. We remember that one of Goethe's\nstarting-points in his investigation of the riddle of colour was the\nobservation that of the totality of colours one part is experienced as\n'warm' and the other as 'cold'. Now we can go further and say that the\ncolours of the spherical pole are experienced as cold, those of the\nradial pole as warm. This corresponds precisely to the polarity of\nsnow-formation and volcanic activity. The former, being the spherically\ndirected process, requires physically low temperatures; the latter,\nbeing the radially directed process, requires high temperatures. Here,\nonce more, we see with what objectivity the human senses register the\nfacts of the outer world.\n\nAnother realm of phenomena based on a similar polar order is that of\nelectricity. When we studied the negative and positive poles of the\nvacuum tube, with regard to the polar distribution of radius and\nsphere, our attention was drawn to the colours appearing on the two\nelectrodes - red at the (positive) anode, blue at the (negative)\ncathode. Again we find a coincidence with the natural order of the\ncolours.\n\nNote how the qualitative dynamic method employed here brings into\ndirect view the relationship between light and electricity, while it\nprecludes the mistake of tracing light processes to those of\nelectricity, as modern science does. Nor are electric processes\n'explained' from this point of view merely as variations of light\nprocesses. Rather is the relation between light and electricity seen to\nbe based on the fact that all polarities arising perceptibly in nature\nare creations of the same primeval polarity, that of Levity and\nGravity. The interplay of Levity and Gravity can take on many different\nforms which are distinguished essentially by differences in cosmic age.\nThus the colour-polarity in its primal form, made manifest by the\nheavens, differs as much from the corresponding polarity shown by the\nvacuum tube, as does the lightning in the heights from the electric\nspark.\n\n*\n\nWith the aid of what we have learnt here concerning outer\nlight-processes we shall turn once more to the activity of our own\ninner light.\n\nWe may expect by now that our eye is fitted with two modes of seeing\nactivity, polar to each other, and that the way in which they come into\noperation depends on whether the interplay of positive and negative\ndensity outside the eye leads to the appearance of the blue-violet or\nof the yellow-red side of the colour-scale. Such a polarity in the\nactivity of the eye can indeed be established. Along with it goes a\nsignificant functional difference between the two eyes (not unlike that\nshown of the two hands).\n\nTo observe this we need simply to compare the two eyes of a person in a\nphotograph by covering alternately the right and the left half of the\nface. Nearly always it will be found that the right eye looks out\nclearly into the world with an active expression, and the left eye with\na much gentler one, almost held back. Artists are well aware of this\nasymmetry, as of others in the human countenance, and are careful to\ndepict it. An outstanding example is Raphael's Sistine Madonna, where\nin the eyes and whole countenance both of Mother and Child this\nasymmetry can be studied in a specially impressive way.\n\nInner observation leads to a corresponding experience. A convenient\nmethod is to exercise the two eyes in complete darkness, in the\nfollowing way. One eye is made to look actively into the space in front\nof it, as if it would pierce the darkness with its visual ray, while\nthe activity of the other eye is held back, so that its gaze rests only\nsuperficially, as it were, on the darkness in front of it. Experience\nshows that most people find it natural to give the active note to the\nright eye, and the passive note to the left.\n\nOnce one has grown conscious of this natural difference between the two\neyes, it is quite easily detected while one is looking normally into\nthe light-filled environment. We thereby realize that for the two eyes\nto act differently in this way is the usual thing.\n\nAs an instance where this fact is well observed and effectively made\nuse of, that of shooting may be mentioned here, especially shooting at\nflying game. Those who train in this sport learn to make a completely\ndifferent use of the two eyes in sighting the target. The naturally\nmore active eye - only once in about fifty cases is it the left - is\ncalled by them the 'master-eye'. Whilst the less actively gazing eye is\nusually employed for surveying the field as a whole into which the\ntarget is expected to enter, the master-eye is used for making active\ncontact with the target itself ('throwing' oneself on the target\n'through' the eye).\n\nOne further observation may be added. If one looks with rested eyes and\nin very faint daylight (perhaps in the early morning on awakening) at a\nwhite surface, while opening and closing the eyes alternately, then the\nwhite surface looks faintly reddish to the 'master-eye', and faintly\nbluish to the other.\n\n*\n\nFollowing the lines of our treatment of after-images in the last\nchapter, we will next inquire into the anatomical and physiological\nbasis of the two opposite sight-activities. In the previous instance we\nfound this in the polarity of nerve and blood. This time we must look\nfor it in a certain twofold structure of the eye itself. We shall best\nperceive this by watching the 'becoming' of the eye, thus again\nfollowing a method first shown by Goethe.\n\nFig. 11 shows the human eye in different stages of its embryonic\nformation. The eye is clearly seen to consist of two parts essentially\ndifferent in origin. Growing out from the interior of the embryonic\norganism is a structure that is gradually pushed in, and in its further\ndevelopment becomes the entire posterior part of the eye, destined to\ncarry its life-imbued functions. A second independent part grows\ntowards this from outside; this is at first a mere thickening of the\nembryonic skin formation, but later it loosens itself and presses\nforward into the interior of the cup-shaped structure. It is gradually\nenclosed by this, and evolves finally into that part of the finished\neye which embodies the optical apparatus functioning according to\npurely physical laws.\n\nThis series of forms shows that in the embryonic formation of the eye\nwe are confronted with two processes, one of spherical, and the other\nof radial orientation. Consequently the two parts of the eye are\ndifferentiated in such a way that the posterior part, which has grown\nforth radially from the embryonic organism, as the life-filled element\nrepresents the sulphur-pole of the total eye, while the anterior part,\nwith its much more crystalline nature, having grown spherically towards\nthe organism, represents the eye's salt-pole.\n\nCloser inspection into the connexion of the two visual activities of\nthe eye with its basic corporeal parts reveals that here, at the\noutermost boundary of the human organism, we encounter once more that\npeculiar reversal of functions which we have already several times met\nin various realms of nature. For the anterior part of the eye - its\nsalt-pole - which has come into being through a spherically directed\nformative process, seems to be the one through which we exercise the\nperceptive activity streaming out radially from the eye, whilst the\nposterior part - the eye's sulphur-pole - which has come into being\nthrough radially directed formative action, serves that form of seeing\nwhich is more receptive and is carried out in a plane-wise manner.\n\nConsiderations of this kind, and they alone, enable us also to draw\ntrue comparisons between the different sense-organs. Take the organ of\nhearing. Usually the ear is assumed to fill the same role in the field\nof hearing as does the eye in the field of seeing. In fact the ear\ncorresponds to only one half of the eye; the other half must be looked\nfor in the larynx. In other words, the two parts of the eye are\nrepresented in the realm of hearing by two separate organs, ear and\nlarynx. Speaking from the aspect of metamorphosis, the vital part of\nour eye may be regarded as our 'light-ear'; the crystalline part, as\nour 'light-larynx'. In order to come consciously to a perception of\nsight we must 'listen' to the 'deeds and sufferings' of light, while at\nthe same time we meet them with the help of the 'speaking' of our inner\nlight. Something similar holds good for hearing. In fact, observation\nreveals that we take in no impression of hearing unless we accompany it\nwith an activity of our larynx, even though a silent one. The\nsignificance of this fact for the total function of hearing will occupy\nus more fully later.\n\n*\n\nOur insight into the polar nature of visual activity will enable us now\nto link the external interplay of Light and Dark - to which the\nphysical colours owe their existence - to that play of forces which we\nourselves set in motion when our eye meets the world of colours in\ntheir polar differentiation.\n\nWe established earlier that in the cold colours the role of darkness\nbelongs to the pole of levity or negative density, and the role of\nlightness to the pole of gravity or positive density, whereas in the\ncase of the warm colours the roles are reversed. Let us now unite with\nthis the insight we have meanwhile gained into the two kinds of\nactivity in seeing - the receptive, 'left-eyed' and the radiating,\n'right-eyed' - which mediate to us the experience of the positive or\nnegative density of space spread out before our eyes. Taking together\nthe results of outer and inner observation, we can express the polarity\nruling in the realm of colour as follows.\n\nIf lightness and darkness as elements of colour, meet us in such a way\nthat lightness, by reason of its positive density, calls forth\n'left-eyed' activity, and darkness, by reason of its negative density,\n'right-eyed' activity, then our soul receives the impression of the\ncolour blue and colours related to blue. If lightness and darkness meet\nus so that we see the former in a 'right-eyed', and the latter in a\n'left-eyed' way, then we experience this as the presence of yellow and\nthe colours related to it.\n\nThe reason why we usually fail to observe the different kinds of\ninterplay of the two modes of seeing, when we perceive one or other of\nthe two categories of colour, is because in ordinary sight both eyes\nexercise each of the two activities without our becoming aware which is\nthe leading one in a particular eye. If, however, one has come to a\nreal experience of the inner polarity of the visual act, one needs only\na little practice to realize the distinction. For example, if one looks\nat the blue sky, notably at noon-time, on the side away from the sun,\nor at the morning or evening sky, shining yellow and red, one quickly\nbecomes conscious of how our eyes take hold of the particular\ncontribution which Light and Dark make to one or other of the two\ncolour appearances.\n\n*\n\nIn the natural course of our argument we had to keep at first to the\nappearance of colours as they come freely before us in space. The\nresults we have obtained, however, hold good equally well for the\npermanent tints of material objects, as the following example will\nshow.\n\nA fact known to science is that red and blue surface colours, when\nillumined by light of steadily diminishing intensity, are seen to\nreverse their normal ratio of brightness. This phenomenon can be seen\nin nature, if, for instance, one observes a bed of blue and red flowers\nin the fading evening light and compares the impression with that which\nthe same flowers make in bright daylight. If the phenomenon is\nreproduced artificially, the actual transition from one state to the\nother can be clearly observed. The easiest way is to place a red and a\nblue surface side by side under an electric light whose intensity can\nbe gradually lessened by means of a sliding resistance. Here, as much\nas in the natural phenomenon, our reason finds it difficult to\nacknowledge that the surface gleaming in a whitish sheen should be the\none which ordinarily appears as darkling blue, and that the one\ndisappearing into darkness should be the surface which normally\npresents itself as radiant red.\n\nThis riddle is readily solved if we apply what we have learnt about the\nparticular shares of lightness and darkness in these two colours, and\nif we link this up with the respective forms of seeing exercised by our\ntwo eyes. To the dim light, clearly, our eyes will respond more with\nthe 'left-eyed' than with the 'right-eyed' form of vision. Now we know\nthat it is 'left-eyed' vision which is roused by the\nlightness-component in blue and the darkness-component in red. It is\nonly to be expected, therefore, that these elements should become\nconspicuous when in the dim light our seeing is mainly 'left-eyed'.\nThis solution of the problem makes us realize further, that the laws\nwhich Goethe first found for the coming into appearance of colours\nfreely hovering in space are indeed applicable to the fixed material\ncolours as well.\n\n1 It will be well to remember here the discussion of our experience of\ntemperature through the sense of warmth in Chapter VIII (p. 134f.).\n\n2 Along these lines the true solution of the problem of the so-called\ncoloured shadows will be found, Goethe studied this without finding,\nhowever, a satisfactory answer.\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII\n\nOptics of the Doer\n\nThree basic concepts form the foundation for the present-day scientific\ndescription of a vast field of optical phenomena, among them the\noccurrence of the spectral colours as a result of light passing through\na transparent medium of prismatic shape. They are: 'optical\nrefraction', 'light-ray', and 'light-velocity' - the latter two serving\nto explain the first. In a science of optics which seeks its foundation\nin the intercourse between man's own visual activity and the doings and\nsufferings of light, these three concepts must needs undergo a decisive\nchange, both in their meaning and in their value for the description of\nthe relevant optical phenomena. For they are all purely kinematic\nconcepts typical of the onlooker-way of conceiving things - concepts,\nthat is, to which nothing corresponds in the realm of the actual\nphenomena.\n\nOur next task, therefore, will be, where possible, to fill these\nconcepts with new meaning, or else to replace them by other concepts\nread from the actual phenomena. Once this is done the way will be free\nfor the development of the picture of the spectrum phenomenon which is\nin true accord with the Goethean conception of Light and Colour.\n\n*\n\nThe first to be brought in this sense under our examination is the\nconcept of the 'light-ray'.\n\nIn present-day optics this concept signifies a geometrical line of\ninfinitely small width drawn, as it were, by the light in space, while\nthe cone or cylinder of light actually filling the space is described\nas being composed of innumerable such rays. In the same way the object\nproducing or reflecting light is thought of as composed of innumerable\nsingle points from which the light-rays emerge. All descriptions of\noptical processes are based upon this conception.\n\nObviously, we cannot be satisfied with such a reduction of wholes into\nsingle geometrically describable parts, followed by a reassembling of\nthese parts into a whole. For in reality we have to do with realms of\nspace uniformly filled with light, whether conical or cylindrical in\nform, which arise through certain boundaries being set to the light. In\noptical research we have therefore always to do with pictures,\nspatially bounded. Thus what comes before our consciousness is\ndetermined equally by the light calling forth the picture, and by the\nunlit space bordering it.\n\nRemembering the results of our earlier study, we must say further of\nsuch a light-filled realm that it lacks the quality of visibility and\ntherefore has no colour, not even white. Goethe and other 'readers',\nsuch as Reid and Ruskin, tried continually to visualize what such a\nlight-filled space represents in reality. Hence they directed their\nattention first to those spheres where light manifests its\nform-creative activity, as in the moulding of the organ of sight in\nanimal or man, or in the creation of the many forms of the plant\nkingdom - and only then gave their mind to the purely physical\nlight-phenomena. Let us use the same method to form a picture of a\nlight-filled space, and to connect this with the ideas we have\npreviously gained on the co-operation in space of levity and gravity.\n\nSuppose we have two similar plant-seeds in germ; and let one lie in a\nspace filled with light, the other in an unlit space. From the\ndifferent behaviour of the two seeds we can observe certain differences\nbetween the two regions of space. We note that within the light-filled\nregion the spiritual archetype of the plant belonging to the seed is\nhelped to manifest itself physically in space, whereas in the dark\nregion it receives no such aid. For in the latter the physical plant,\neven if it grows, does not develop its proper forms. This tells us, in\naccordance with what we have learnt earlier, that in the two cases\nthere is a different relation of space to the cosmically distant,\nall-embracing plane. Thus inside and outside the light-region there\nexists a quite different relation of levity and gravity - and this\nrelation changes abruptly at the boundaries of the region. (This fact\nwill be of especial importance for us when we come to examine the\narising of colours at the boundary of Light and Dark, when light passes\nthrough a prism.)\n\n*\n\nAfter having replaced the customary concept of the light-bundle\ncomposed of single rays by the conception of two dynamically polar\nrealms of space bordering each other, we turn to the examination of\nwhat is going on dynamically inside these realms. This will help us to\ngain a proper concept of the propagation of light through space.\n\nIn an age when the existence of a measurable light-velocity seems to\nbelong to the realm of facts long since experimentally proved; when\nscience has begun to measure the universe, using the magnitude of this\nvelocity as a constant, valid for the whole cosmos; and when entire\nbranches of science have been founded on results thus gained, it is not\neasy, and yet it cannot be avoided, to proclaim that neither has an\nactual velocity of light ever been measured, nor can light as such ever\nbe made subject to such measurement by optical means - and that,\nmoreover, light, by its very nature, forbids us to conceive of it as\npossessing any finite velocity.\n\nWith the last assertion we do not mean to say that there is nothing\ngoing on in connexion with the appearance of optical phenomena to which\nthe concept of a finite velocity is applicable. Only, what is\npropagated in this way is not the entity we comprise under the concept\nof 'light'. Our next task, therefore, will be to create a proper\ndistinction between what moves and what does not move spatially when\nlight is active in the physical world. Once more an historical\nretrospect will help us to establish our own standpoint with regard to\nthe existing theories.\n\nThe first to think of light as possessing a finite velocity was\nGalileo, who also made the first, though unsuccessful, attempt to\nmeasure it. Equally unsuccessful were attempts of a similar nature made\nsoon afterwards by members of the Accademia del Cimento. In both cases\nthe obvious procedure was to produce regular flashes of light and to\ntry to measure the time which elapsed between their production and\ntheir observation by some more or less distant observer. Still, the\nconviction of the existence of such a velocity was so deeply ingrained\nin the minds of men that, when later observations succeeded in\nestablishing a finite magnitude for what seemed to be the rate of the\nlight's movement through space, these observations were hailed much\nmore as the quantitative value of this movement than as proof of its\nexistence, which was already taken for granted.\n\nA clear indication of man's state of mind in regard to this question is\ngiven in the following passage from Huygens's famous Trait\u00c3\u00a9 de la Lumi\u00c3\u00a8re, by\nwhich the world was first made acquainted with the concept of light as\na sort of undulatory movement.\n\n'One cannot doubt that light consists in the movement of a certain\nsubstance. For if one considers its production one finds that here on\nthe earth it is chiefly produced by fire and flame, which without doubt\ncontain bodies in rapid motion, for they dissolve and melt numberless\nother bodies. Or, if one considers its effects, one sees that light\ncollected, for instance, by a concave mirror has the power to heat like\nfire, i.e. to separate the parts of the bodies; this assuredly points\nto movement, at least in true philosophy in which one traces all\nnatural activity to mechanical causes. In my opinion one must do this,\nor quite give up all hope of ever grasping anything in physics.'\n\nIn these words of Huygens it must strike us how he first provides an\nexplanation for a series of phenomena as if this explanation were\ninduced from the phenomena themselves. After he has drawn quite\ndefinite conclusions from it, he then derives its necessity from quite\nother principles - namely, from a certain method of thinking, accepting\nthis as it is, unquestioned and unalterably established. We are here\nconfronted with an 'unlogic' characteristic of human thinking during\nits state of isolation from the dynamic substratum of the world of the\nsenses, an unlogic which one encounters repeatedly in scientific\nargumentation once one has grown aware of it. In circles of modern\nthinkers where such awareness prevails (and they are growing rapidly\nto-day) the term 'proof of a foregone conclusion' has been coined to\ndescribe this fact.1\n\n'Proof of a foregone conclusion' is indeed the verdict at which one\narrives in respect of all the observations concerned with the velocity\nof light - whether of existing phenomena detectable in the sky or of\nterrestrial phenomena produced artificially - if one studies them with\nthe attitude of mind represented by the child in Hans Andersen's story.\nIn view of the seriousness of the matter it will not be out of place if\nwe discuss them here as briefly as possible, one by one.2\n\nThe relevant observations fall into two categories: observations of\ncertain astronomical facts from which the existence of a finite\nvelocity of light and its magnitude as an absolute property of it has\nbeen inferred; and terrestrial experiments which permitted direct\nobservation of a process of propagation connected with the\nestablishment of light in space resulting in the measurement of its\nspeed. To the latter category belong the experiments of Fizeau (1849)\nand Foucault (1850) as well as the Michelson-Morley experiment with its\nimplications for Einstein's Theory of Relativity. The former category\nis represented by Roemer's observations of certain apparent\nirregularities in the times of revolution of one of Jupiter's moons\n(1676), and by Bradley's investigation into the reason for the apparent\nrhythmic changes of the positions of the fixed stars (1728).\n\nWe shall start with the terrestrial observations, because in their case\nalone is the entire path of the light surveyable, and what is measured\ntherefore is something appertaining with certainty to every point of\nthe space which spreads between the source of the light and the\nobserver. For this reason textbooks quite rightly say that only the\nresults drawn from these terrestrial observations have the value of\nempirically observed facts. (The interpretation given to these facts is\nanother question.)\n\nNow, it is a common feature of all these experiments that by necessity\nthey are based on an arrangement whereby a light-beam can be made to\nappear and disappear alternately. In this respect there is no\ndifference between the first primitive attempts made by Galileo and the\nAcademicians, and the ingeniously devised experiments of the later\nobservers, whether they operate with a toothed wheel or a rotating\nmirror. It is always a flash of light - and how could it be otherwise?\n- which is produced at certain regular intervals and used for\ndetermining the speed of propagation.\n\nEvidently what in all these cases is measured is the speed with which a\nbeam of light establishes itself in space. Of what happens within the\nbeam, once it is established, these observations tell nothing at all.\nThe proof they are held to give of the existence of a finite speed of\nlight, as such, is a 'proof of a foregone conclusion'. All they tell us\nis that the beam's front, at the moment when this beam is first\nestablished, travels through space with a finite velocity and that the\nrate of this movement is such and such. And they tell us nothing at all\nabout other regions of the cosmos.\n\nThat we have to do in these observations with the speed of the\nlight-front only, and not of the light itself, is a fact fully\nacknowledged by modern physical optics. Since Lord Rayleigh first\ndiscussed this matter in the eighties of the last century, physicists\nhave learnt to distinguish between the 'wave-velocity' of the light\nitself and the velocity of an 'impressed peculiarity', the so-called\n'group-velocity', and it has been acknowledged that only the latter has\nbeen, and can be, directly measured. There is no possibility of\ninferring from it the value of the 'wave-velocity' unless one has a\ncomplete knowledge of the properties of the medium through which the\n'groups' travel. Nevertheless, the modern mind allows itself to be\nconvinced that light possesses a finite velocity and that this has been\nestablished by actual measurement. We feel reminded here of Eddington's\ncomment on Newton's famous observations: 'Such is the glamour of a\nhistorical experiment.' (Chapter XIV.)3\n\nLet us now turn to Roemer and Bradley. In a certain sense Roemer's\nobservations and even those of Bradley rank together with the\nterrestrial measurements. For Roemer used as optical signals the\nappearance and disappearance of one of Jupiter's moons in the course of\nits revolution round the planet; thus he worked with light-flashes, as\nthe experimental investigations do. Hence, also, his measurements were\nconcerned - as optical science acknowledges - with group-velocity only.\nIn fact, even Bradley's observations, although he was the only one who\noperated with continuous light-phenomena, are exposed to the charge\nthat they give information of the group-velocity of light, and not of\nits wave-velocity. However, we shall ignore these limitations in both\ncases, because there are quite other factors which invalidate the\nproofs they are held to give, and to gain a clear insight into these\nfactors is of special importance for us.\n\nRoemer observed a difference in the length of time during which a\ncertain moon of Jupiter was occulted by the planet's body, and found\nthat this difference underwent regular changes coincident with the\nchanges in the earth's position in relation to Jupiter and the sun.\nSeen from the sun, the earth is once a year in conjunction with\nJupiter, once in opposition to it. It seemed obvious to explain the\ntime-lag in the moon's reappearance, when the earth was on the far side\nof the sun, by the time the light from the moon needed to cover the\ndistance marked by the two extreme positions of the earth - that is, a\ndistance equal to the diameter of the earth's orbit. On dividing the\nobserved interval of time by the accepted value of this distance,\nRoemer obtained for the velocity of light a figure not far from the one\nfound later by terrestrial measurements.\n\nWe can here leave out of account the fact that Roemer's reasoning is\nbased on the assumption that the Copernican conception of the relative\nmovements of the members of our solar system is the valid conception,\nan assumption which, as later considerations will show, cannot be\nupheld in a science which strives for a truly dynamic understanding of\nthe world. For the change of aspect which becomes necessary in this way\ndoes not invalidate Roemer's observation as such; it rules out only the\ncustomary interpretation of it. Freed from all hypothetical by-thought,\nRoemer's observation tells us, first, that the time taken by a flash of\nlight travelling from a cosmic light-source to reach the earth varies\nto a measurable extent, and, secondly, that this difference is bound up\nwith the yearly changes of the earth's position in relation to the sun\nand the relevant planetary body.\n\nWe leave equally out of account the fact that our considerations of the\nnature of space in Chapter XII render it impermissible to conceive of\ncosmic space as something 'across' which light (or any other entity)\ncan be regarded as travelling this or that distance in this or that\ntime. What matters to us here is the validity of the conclusions drawn\nfrom Roemer's discovery within the framework of thought in which they\nwere made.\n\nBoiled down to its purely empirical content, Roemer's observation tells\nus solely and simply that within the earth's cosmic orbit light-flashes\ntravel with a certain measurable speed. To regard this information as\nautomatically valid, firstly for light which is continuously present,\nand secondly for everywhere in the universe, rests again on nothing but\na foregone conclusion.\n\nPrecisely the same criticism applies to Bradley's observation, and to\nan even higher degree. What Bradley discovered is the fact that the\napparent direction in which we see a fixed star is dependent on the\ndirection in which the earth moves relatively to the star, a phenomenon\nknown under the name of 'aberration of light'. This phenomenon is\nfrequently brought to students' understanding by means of the following\nor some similar analogy.\n\nImagine that a machine-gun in a fixed position has sent its projectile\nright across a railway-carriage so that both the latter's walls are\npierced. If the train is at rest, the position of the gun could be\ndetermined by sighting through the shot-holes made by the entrance and\nexit of the bullet. If, however, the train is moving at high speed, it\nwill have advanced a certain distance during the time taken by the\nprojectile to cross the carriage, and the point of exit will be nearer\nthe rear of the carriage than in the previous case. Let us now think of\nan observer in the train who, while ignorant of the train's movement,\nundertook to determine the gun's position by considering the direction\nof the line connecting the two holes. He would necessarily locate the\ngun in a position which, compared with its true position, would seem to\nhave shifted by some distance in the direction of the train's motion.\nOn the other hand, given the speed of the train, the angle which the\nline connecting the two holes forms with the true direction of the\ncourse of the projectile - the so-called angle of aberration - provides\na measure of the speed of the projectile.\n\nUnder the foregone conclusion that light itself has a definite\nvelocity, and that this velocity is the same throughout the universe,\nBradley's observation of the aberration of the stars seemed indeed to\nmake it possible to calculate this velocity from the knowledge of the\nearth's own speed and the angle of aberration. This angle could be\nestablished by comparing the different directions into which a\ntelescope has to be turned at different times of the year in order to\nfocus a particular star. But what does Bradley's observation tell us,\nonce we exclude all foregone conclusions?\n\nAs the above analogy helps towards an understanding of the concept of\naberration, it will be helpful also to determine the limits up to which\nwe are allowed to draw valid conclusions from the supposed occurrence\nitself. A mind which is free from all preconceived ideas will not\nignore the fact that the projectile, by being forced to pierce the wall\nof the carriage, suffers a considerable diminution of its speed. The\nprojectile, therefore, passes through the carriage with a speed\ndifferent from its speed outside. Since, however, it is the speed from\nhole to hole which determines the angle of aberration, no conclusion\ncan be drawn from the latter as to the original velocity of the\nprojectile. Let us assume the imaginary case that the projectile was\nshot forth from the gun with infinite velocity, and that the\nslowing-down effect of the wall was great enough to produce a finite\nspeed of the usual magnitude, then the effect on the position of the\nexit hole would be precisely the same as if the projectile had moved\nall the time ' with this speed and not been slowed down at all.\n\nSeeing things in this light, the scientific Andersen child in us is\nroused to exclaim: 'But all that Bradley's observation informs us of ,\nwith certainty is a finite velocity of the optical process going on\ninside the telescope!' Indeed, if someone should claim with good reason\n(as we shall do later on) that light's own velocity is infinite, and\n(as we shall not do) that the dynamic situation set up in the telescope\nhad the effect of slowing down the light to the measured velocity -\nthere is nothing in Bradley's observation which could disprove these\nassertions.\n\n*\n\nHaving thus disposed of the false conclusions drawn by a kinematically\norientated thinking from the various observations and measurements of\nthe velocity which appears in connexion with light, we can carry on our\nown studies undisturbed. Two observations stand before us representing\nempirically established facts: one, that in so far as a finite velocity\nhas been measured or calculated from other observations, nothing is\nknown about the existence or magnitude of such a velocity except within\nthe boundaries of the dynamic realm constituted by the earth's presence\nin the universe; the other, that this velocity is a 'group'-velocity,\nthat is, the velocity of the front of a light-beam in process of\nestablishment. Let us see what these two facts have to tell us when we\nregard them as letters of the 'word' which light inscribes into the\nphenomenal world as an indication of its own nature.\n\nTaking the last-named fact first, we shall make use of the following\ncomparison to help us realize how little we are justified in drawing\nfrom observations of the front speed of a light-beam any conclusions\nconcerning the kinematic conditions prevailing in the interior of the\nbeam itself. Imagine the process of constructing a tunnel, with all the\nefforts and time needed for cutting its passage through the resisting\nrock. When the tunnel is finished the activities necessary to its\nproduction are at an end. Whereas these continue for a limited time\nonly, they leave behind them permanent traces in the existence of the\ntunnel, which one can describe dynamically as a definite alteration in\nthe local conditions of the earth's gravity. Now, it would occur to no\none to ascribe to the tunnel itself, as a lasting quality, the speed\nwith which it had been constructed. Yet something similar happens when,\nafter observing the velocity required by light to lay hold on space,\nthis velocity is then attributed to the light as a quality of its own.\nIt was reserved for a mode of thought that could form no concept of the\nreal dynamic of Light and Dark, to draw conclusions as to the qualities\nof light from experiences obtained through observing its original\nspreading out into space.\n\nTo speak of an independently existing space within which light could\nmove forward like a physical body, is, after what we have learnt about\nspace, altogether forbidden. For space in its relevant structure is\nitself but a result of a particular co-ordination of levity and gravity\nor, in other words, of Light and Dark. What we found earlier about the\nqualities of the two polar spaces now leads us to conceive of them as\nrepresentative of two limiting conditions of velocity: absolute\ncontraction representing zero velocity; absolute expansion, infinite\nvelocity (each in its own way a state of 'rest'). Thus any motion with\nfinite velocity is a mean between these two extremes, and as such the\nresult of a particular co-ordination of levity and gravity. This makes\nit evident that to speak of a velocity taking its course in space,\nwhether with reference to light or to a physical body in motion, is\nsomething entirely unreal.\n\nLet us now see what we are really told by the number 186,000 miles a\nsecond, as the measure of the speed with which a light-impulse\nestablishes itself spatially. In the preceding chapter we learnt that\nthe earth's field of gravity offers a definite resistance to our visual\nray. What is true for the inner light holds good equally for the outer\nlight. Using an image from another dynamic stratum of nature we can say\nthat light, while appearing within the field of gravity, 'rubs' itself\non this. On the magnitude of this friction depends the velocity with\nwhich a light-impulse establishes itself in the medium of the resisting\ngravity. Whereas light itself as a manifestation of levity possesses\ninfinite velocity, this is forced down to the known finite measure by\nthe resistance of the earth's field of gravity. Thus the speed of light\nwhich has been measured by observers such as Fizeau and Foucault\nreveals itself as a function of the gravitational constant of the\nearth, and hence has validity for this sphere only.1 The same is true\nfor Roemer's and Bradley's observations, none of which, after what we\nhave stated earlier, contradicts this result. On the contrary, seen\nfrom this viewpoint, Roemer's discovery of the light's travelling with\nfinite speed within the cosmic realm marked by the earth's orbit\nprovides an important insight into the dynamic conditions of this\nrealm.\n\n*\n\nAmong the experiments undertaken with the aim of establishing the\nproperties of the propagation of light by direct measurements, quoted\nearlier, we mentioned the Michelson-Morley experiment as having a\nspecial bearing on Einstein's conceptual edifice. It is the one which\nhas formed the foundation of that (earlier) part of Einstein's theory\nwhich he himself called the Special Theory of Relativity. Let us see\nwhat becomes of this foundation - and with it the conceptual edifice\nerected upon it - when we examine it against the background of what we\nhave found to be the true nature of the so-called velocity of light.\n\nIt is generally known that modern ideas of light seemed to call for\nsomething (Huygens's 'certain substance') to act as bearer of the\nmovement attributed to light. This led to the conception of an\nimponderable agency capable of certain movements, and to denote this\nagency the Greek word ether was borrowed. (How this word can be used\nagain to-day in conformity with its actual significance will be shown\nin the further course of our discussions.) Nevertheless, all endeavours\nto find in the existence of such an ether a means of explaining wide\nfields of natural phenomena were disappointed. For the more exact\nconcepts one tried to form of the characteristics of this ether, the\ngreater the contradictions became.\n\nOne such decisive contradiction arose when optical means were used to\ndiscover whether the ether was something absolutely at rest in space,\nthrough which physical bodies moved freely, or whether it shared in\ntheir movement. Experiments made by Fizeau with running water seemed to\nprove the one view, those of Michelson and Morley, involving the\nmovement of the earth, the other view. In the celebrated\nMichelson-Morley experiment the velocity of light was shown to be the\nsame, in whatever direction, relative to the earth's own motion, it was\nmeasured. This apparent proof of the absolute constancy of\nlight-velocity - which seemed, however, to contradict other\nobservations - induced Einstein to do away with the whole assumption of\na bearer of the movement underlying light, whether the bearer were\nsupposed to be at rest or itself in motion. Instead, he divested the\nconcepts of space and time, from which that of velocity is usually\nderived, of the absoluteness hitherto attributed to them, with the\nresult that in his theory time has come to be conceived as part of a\nfour-dimensional 'space-time continuum'.\n\nIn reality the Michelson-Morley experiment presents no problem\nrequiring such labours as those of Einstein for its solution. For by\nthis experiment nothing is proved beyond what can in any event be known\n- namely, that the velocity of the propagation of a light-impulse is\nconstant in all directions, so long as the measuring is confined to\nregions where the density of terrestrial space is more or less the\nsame. With the realization of this truth, however, Einstein's Special\nTheory loses its entire foundation. All that remains to be said about\nit is that it was a splendid endeavour to solve a problem which,\nrightly considered, does not exist.1\n\n*\n\nNow that we have realized that it is inadmissible to speak of light as\nconsisting of single rays, or to ascribe to it a finite velocity, the\nconcept of the refraction of light, as understood by optics to-day and\nemployed for the explanation of the spectrum, also becomes untenable.\nLet us find out what we must put in its place.\n\nThe phenomenon which led the onlooker-consciousness to form the idea of\noptical refraction has been known since early times. It\n\nconsists in the fact, surprising at first sight, that an object, such\nas a coin, which lies at the bottom of a vessel hidden from an observer\nby the rim, becomes visible when the vessel is filled with water.\nModern optics has explained this by assuming that from the separate\npoints of the floor of the vessel light-rays go out to all sides, one\nray falling in the direction of the eye of the observer. Hence, because\nof the positions of eye and intercepting rim there are a number of\npoints from which no rays can reach the eye. One such point is\nrepresented by the coin (P in Fig. 12a). Now if the vessel is filled\nwith water, light-rays emerging from it are held to be refracted, so\nthat rays from the points hitherto invisible also meet the eye, which\nis still in its original position. The eye itself is not conscious of\nthis 'break' in the light-rays, because it is accustomed to 'project'\nall light impressions rectilinearly out into space (Fig. 12b.). Hence,\nit sees P in the position of P'. This is thought to be the origin of\nthe impression that the whole bottom of the vessel is raised.\n\nThis kind of explanation is quite in line with the peculiarity of the\nonlooker-consciousness, noted earlier, to attribute an optical illusion\nto the eye's way of working, while charging the mind with the task of\nclearing up the illusion. In reality it is just the reverse. Since the\nintellect can form no other idea of the act of seeing than that this is\na passive process taking place solely within the eye, it falls, itself,\ninto illusion. How great is this illusion we see from the fact that the\nintellect is finally obliged to make the eye somehow or other 'project'\ninto space the impressions it receives - a process lacking any concrete\ndynamic content.\n\nOnce more, it is not our task to replace this way of 'explaining' the\nphenomenon by any other, but rather to combine the phenomenon given\nhere with others of kindred nature so that the theory contained in them\ncan be read from them direct. One other such phenomenon is that of\nso-called apparent optical depth, which an observer encounters when\nlooking through transparent media of varying optical density. What\nconnects the two is the fact that the rate of the alteration of depth,\nand the rate of change of the direction of light, are the same for the\nsame media.\n\nIn present-day optics this phenomenon is explained with reference to\nthe former. In proceeding like this, optical science makes the very\nmistake which Goethe condemned in Newton, saying that a complicated\nphenomenon was made the basis, and the simpler derived from the\ncomplex. For of these two phenomena, the simpler, since it is\nindependent of any secondary condition, is the one showing that our\nexperience of depth is dependent on the density of the optical medium.\nThe latter phenomenon we met once before, though without reference to\nits quantitative side, when in looking at a landscape we found how our\nexperiences of depth change in conformity with alterations in\natmospheric conditions. This, then, served to make us aware that the\nway we apprehend things optically is the result of an interplay between\nour visual ray and the medium outside us which it meets.\n\nIt is exactly the same when we look through a vessel filled with water\nand see the bottom of it as if raised in level. This is in no sense an\noptical illusion; it is the result of what takes place objectively and\ndynamically within the medium, when our eye-ray passes through it. Only\nour intellect is under an illusion when, in the case of the coin\nbecoming visible at the bottom of the vessel, it deals with the coin as\nif it were a point from which an individual ray of light went out.. ..\netc., instead of conceiving the phenomenon of the raising of the\nvessel's bottom as one indivisible whole, wherein the coin serves only\nto link our attention to it.\n\n*\n\nHaving thus cleared away the kinematic interpretation of the\ncoin-in-the-bowl phenomenon, we may pass on to discuss the optical\neffect through which the so-called law of refraction was first\nestablished in science. Instead of picturing to ourselves, as is\nusually done, light-rays which are shifted away from or towards the\nperpendicular at the border-plane between two media of different\noptical properties, we shall rather build up the picture as light\nitself designs it into space.\n\nWe have seen that our inner light, as well as the outer light, suffers\na certain hindrance in passing through a physical medium - even such as\nthe earth's gravity-field. Whilst we may not describe this retardation,\nas is usually done, in terms of a smaller velocity of light itself\nwithin the denser medium, we may rightly say that density has the\neffect of lessening the intensity of the light. (It is the time\nrequired for the initial establishment of a light-filled realm which is\ngreater within such a medium than outside it.) Now by its very nature\nthe intensity of light cannot be measured in spatial terms. Yet there\nis a phenomenon by which the decrease of the inner intensity of the\nlight becomes spatially apparent and thus spatially measurable. It\nconsists in the alteration undergone by the aperture of a cone of light\nwhen passing from one optical medium to another.\n\nIf one sets in the path of a luminous cone a glass-walled trough filled\nwith water, then, if both water and surrounding air are slightly\nclouded, the cone is seen to make a more acute angle within the water\nthan outside it (Fig. 13). Here in an external phenomenon we meet the\nsame weakening in the light's tendency to expand that we recognized in\nthe shortening of our experience of depth on looking through a dense\nmedium. Obviously, we expect the externally observable narrowing of the\nlight-cone and the subjectively experienced change of optical depth to\nshow the same ratio.\n\nIn order to compare the rate of expansion of a luminous cone inside and\noutside water, we must measure by how much less the width of the cone\nincreases within the water than it does outside. (To be comparable, the\nmeasurements must be based upon the same distances on the edge of the\ncone, because this is the length of the way the light actually\ntravels.) In Fig. 13 this is shown by the two distances, a-b and a'-b'.\nTheir ratio is the same as that by which the bottom of a vessel appears\nto be raised when the vessel is filled with water (4:3).\n\n\n\nThus by means of pure observation we have arrived at nothing less than\nwhat is known to physical optics as Snell's Law of Refraction. This law\nwas itself the result of pure observation, but was clothed in a\nconceptual form devoid of reality. In this form it states that a ray of\nlight in transition between two media of different densities is\nrefracted at their boundary surface so that the ratio of the angle\nwhich is formed by the ray in either medium with a line at right angles\nto the boundary surface is such that the quotient of the sines of both\nangles is for these media a constant factor. In symbols\nsin \u00ce\u00b1 / sin \u00ce\u00b2 = c.\n\nIt will be clear to the reader familiar with trigonometry that this\nratio of the two sines is nothing else but the ratio of the two\ndistances which served us as a measure for the respective apertures of\nthe cone. But whereas the measurement of these two distances is\nconcerned with something quite real (since they express an actual\ndynamic alteration of the light), the measuring of the angle between\nthe ray of light and the perpendicular is founded on nothing real. It\nis now clear that the concept of the ray, as it figures in the usual\npicture of refraction, is in reality the boundary between the luminous\nspace and its surroundings. Evidently the concept of the perpendicular\non the boundary between the two media is in itself a complete\nabstraction, since nothing happens dynamically in its direction.\n\nTo a normal human understanding it is incomprehensible why a ray of\nlight should be related to an external geometrical line, as stated by\nthe law of refraction in its usual form. Physical optics, in order to\nexplain refraction, had therefore to resort to light-bundles spatially\ndiffused, and by use of sundry purely kinematic concepts, to read into\nthese light-bundles certain processes of motion, which are not in the\nleast shown by the phenomenon itself. In contrast to this, the idea\nthat the boundary of a luminous cone is spatially displaced when its\nexpansion is hindered by an optical medium of some density, and that\nthe measure of this displacement is equal to the shortening of depth\nwhich we experience in looking through this medium, is directly\nevident, since all its elements are taken from observation.\n\n*\n\nFrom what we have here found we may expect that in order to explain the\nnumerical relationships between natural phenomena (with which science\nin the past has been solely concerned), we by no means require the\nartificial theories to which the onlooker in man, confined as he is to\nabstract thinking, has been unavoidably driven. Indeed, to an observer\nwho trains himself on the lines indicated in this book, even the\nquantitative secrets of nature will become objects of intuitive\njudgment, just as Goethe, by developing this organ of understanding,\nfirst found access to nature's qualitative secrets. (The change in our\nconception of number which this entails will be shown at a later stage\nof our discussions.)\n\n1 Compare with this our account in Chapter X of the rise of the\natomistic-kinematic interpretation of heat.\n\n2 The following critical study leaves, of course, completely untouched\nour recognition of the devotion which guided the respective observers\nin their work, and of the ingenuity with which some of their\nobservations were devised and carried out.\n\n3 The assumption is that the wave-velocity differs from the\ngroup-velocity, if at all, by a negligible amount.\n\n4 Once this is realized there can be no doubt that with the aid of an\nadequate mathematical calculus (which would have to be established on a\nrealistic understanding of the respective properties of the fields of\nforce coming into play) it will become possible to derive by\ncalculation the speed of the establishment of light within physical\nspace from the gravitational constant of the earth.\n\n5 The grounds of Einstein's General Theory were dealt with in our\nearlier discussions.\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII\n\nThe Spectrum as a Script of the Spirit\n\nThe realization that Newton's explanation of the spectrum fails to meet\nthe facts prompted Goethe to engage in all those studies which made him\nthe founder of a modern optics based on intuitive participation in the\nphenomena. In spite of all that he achieved, however, he never reached\na real solution of the riddle of the colour-phenomenon produced when\nlight passes through a transparent body of prismatic shape. For his\nassumption of certain 'double images', which are supposed to appear as\na result of the optical displacement of the boundaries between the\nLight-filled and the Dark-filled parts of space and the mutual\nsuperposition of which he believed to be responsible for the appearance\nof the respective colours, does not solve the problem.1\n\nWhat hindered Goethe in this field was his limited insight into the\nnature of the two distinct kinds of forces which, as we have noted in\nthe course of our own inquiries, correspond to his concepts of Licht\nand Finsternis.\n\nWith the aid of this distinction - which we have indeed established\nthrough a consistent application of Goethe's method - we shall now be\nable to develop precisely that insight into the coming-into-being of\nthe spectral colours which Goethe sought.2\n\n*\n\nDynamically, the process of the formation of the spectrum by light that\npasses through a prism divides into two clearly distinguishable parts.\nThe first consists in the influence which the light undergoes inside\nthe prism as a result of the latter's special shape, the other, in what\nhappens outside the prism at the boundary between the Light-space -\ninfluenced by the shape of the prism - and the surrounding Dark-space.\nAccordingly, we shall study these two parts of the process separately.\n\nAs an aid to distinguishing clearly one process from the other, we\nshall suppose the prism experiment to be so arranged that the light\narea is larger than the width of the prism, which will then lie\ncompletely within it. We shall further suppose the dimensions of the\nwhole to be such that the part observable on the screen represents only\na portion of the total light-realm situated between the boundaries of\nthe prism. The result is that the screen depicts a light-phenomenon in\nwhich there is no trace of colour. For normal eyesight, the phenomenon\non the screen differs in no way from what it would be if no prism\nintervened in the path of the light.\n\nThese two seemingly identical light-phenomena reveal at once their\ninner dynamic difference if we narrow the field of light from either\nside by introducing into it an object capable of casting shadow. If\nthere is no prism we see simply a black shadow move into the illumined\narea on the screen, no matter from which side the narrowing comes. If,\nhowever, the light has come through a prism (arranged as described\nabove) certain colours appear on the boundary between the regions of\nlight and shadow, and these differ according to the side from which the\ndarkening is effected. The same part of the light area may thus be made\nto display either the colours of the blue pole of the colour-scale, or\nthose of the yellow pole. This shows that the inner dynamic condition\nof the light-realm is altered in some way by being exposed to an\noptically resistant medium of prismatic shape. If we are to find the\ncause and nature of this alteration we must revert to the prism itself,\nand inquire what effect it has on light in the part of space occupied\nby it. By proceeding in this way we follow Goethe's model: first, to\nkeep the two border-phenomena separate, and, secondly, not to ascribe\nto the light itself what is in fact due to certain boundary conditions.\n\nIn order to realize what happens to the light in passing through the\nprism, let us remember that it is a characteristic of an ordinary\nlight-beam to direct itself through space in a straight line if not\ninterfered with, and to illuminate equally any cross-section of the\narea it fills. Both these features are altered when the light is\nexposed to a transparent medium of prismatic shape - that is, to an\noptically resistant medium so shaped that the length of the light's\npassage through it changes from one side of the beam to the other,\nbeing least at the so-called refracting edge of the prism, greatest at\nthe base opposite to that. The dimming effect of the medium, therefore,\nhas a different magnitude at each point of the width of the beam.\nObviously, the ratio between levity and gravity inside such a\nlight-realm, instead of being constant, varies from one side to the\nother. The result is a transverse dynamic impulse which acts from that\npart of the light-realm where the weakening influence of the prism is\nleast towards the part where it is strongest (see long arrow in Plate\nC, Fig. i).3 This impulse manifests in the deflection of the light from\nits original course. Apart from this, nothing is noticeable in the\nlight itself when caught by an observation screen, the reason being\nthat the transverse impulse now immanent in the light-realm has no\neffect on the reflecting surface.\n\nThe situation changes when the light-realm is narrowed down from one\nside or the other - in other words, when an abrupt change of the\nfield-conditions, that is, a sudden leap from light to dark or from\ndark to light, is introduced within this realm. In this case, clearly,\nthe effect of the transverse field-gradient on such a leap will be\ndifferent, depending on the relation between the directions of the two\n(see small arrows in Fig. i). Our eyes witness to this difference by\nseeing the colours of the blue pole of the colour-scale appear when the\nfield-gradient is directed towards the leap (a), and the colours of the\nyellow pole when the gradient is directed away from it (b).\n\nFor our further investigation it is very important to observe how the\ncolours spread when they emerge at the edge of the shadow-casting\nobject thus introduced into the light-realm from the one side or the\nother. Figs, ii and iii on Plate C show, closely enough for our\npurpose, the position of the colour-bearing areas in each case, with\nthe dotted line indicating the direction which the light would have at\nthe place of origin of the colours if there were no object interfering\nwith its free expansion.4 We observe a distinct difference in the\nwidening out of the two colour-areas on both sides of the original\ndirection of the light: in each case the angle which the boundary of\nthe colour-area forms with this direction is smaller on the side of the\ncolours nearest the light-realm (blue and yellow respectively) than on\nthe opposite side (violet and red).\n\nRemembering what we have learnt about the dynamic characteristics of\nthe two colour-poles, we are now in a position to state the following.\nWhen a light-area subject to a lateral gradient is narrowed down, so\nthat the gradient is directed towards the narrowing object, colours\narise in which the interaction between the two polarically opposite\nforms of density is such that positive density makes for lightness, and\nnegative density for darkness. Whereas, when the border is so situated\nthat the gradient is directed away from it, the interaction is such\nthat positive density makes for darkness, and negative density for\nlightness. Further, the fact that on both occasions the darkness\nelement in the colour-band increases in the outward direction tells us\nthat in this direction there is on the blue-violet side a gradual\ndecrease in positive, and increase in negative, density, while on the\nopposite side we find just the reverse. We note again that both\nprocesses occupy a considerable part of the space originally outside\nthe boundaries of the light-area - that is, at the violet end the part\ntowards which the light-beam is deflected, and at the red end the part\nfrom which it turns away.\n\nThe visual ray, when penetrating actively into the two colour-phenomena\nthus described, receives evidence of a dynamic happening which may be\nexpressed as follows.\n\nWhere the transverse impulse, which is due to the varying degree of\nTr\u00c3\u00bcbung in the light-realm, is directed towards the latter's edge, the\nintermingling of the Dark-ingredient and the Light-ingredient,\ncontained in that realm, is such that Dark follows Light along its\nalready existing gradient, thereby diminishing steadily. Hence our\nvisual ray, meeting conditions quite similar to those occurring when we\nlook across the light-filled atmosphere into universal space, notifies\nus of the presence of the blue-violet colour-pole. If, on the other\nhand, the edge is in the wake of the transverse impulse, then a kind of\ndynamic vacuum arises in that part of space from which the beam is\ndeflected, with the effect that the Dark-ingredient, imprinted on the\nlight within the prism, is drawn into this vacuum by following a kind\nof suctional influence. Consequently Dark and Light here come to oppose\none another, and the former, on its way out of the light-area, gains in\nrelative strength. On this side our visual ray meets conditions\nresembling those which occur when we look across the darkening\natmosphere into the sun. Accordingly our optical experience tells us of\nthe presence of the yellow-red colour-pole.\n\nFrom our description of the two kinds of dynamic co-ordination of\npositive and negative density at the two ends of the spectrum it\nfollows that the spatial conditions prevailing at one end must be quite\ndifferent from those at the other. To see this by way of actual\nperception is indeed not difficult. In fact, if we believe that we see\nboth ends of the spectrum lying, as it were, flatly on the surface of\nthe observation screen, this is merely an illusion due to our\nsuperficial way of using our eyes. If we gaze with our visual ray\n(activated in the manner previously described) into the two sides of\nthe spectrum, while turning our eyes alternately in one or other\ndirection, we soon notice that the colours of the yellow-red rise\ntowards the eye so as to give the impression of protruding almost\ncorporeally from the surface of the screen. We feel: Density obtains\nhere in a state of fiery radiation. When turning to the other side we\nfeel our visual ray, instead of being as before caught up in the\ncolours, passing freely across the colours as if carried by them into\nthe infinite. On the blue-violet side, space itself seems to fluoresce\nmysteriously5. Following Goethe's conception of the physical-moral\neffect of colours, we may describe the experience received thus from\nthe two poles of the spectrum by saying that an 'other-worldly'\ncharacter belongs to the colours of the blue-violet pole; an 'earthly'\ncharacter to those of the yellow-red; while that of green, which\nappears when both sides are made to overlap, witnesses to its mediating\nnature between the two.\n\n*\n\nIn our endeavour to view the fundamental experiment of Newtonian optics\nwith the eyes of Goethe we have been led from the wide expanse of the\nearth's sunlit periphery into the confines of the darkened experimental\nchamber. With the aid of the results gained from studying the\nartificially produced spectrum phenomenon, we shall now return to our\noriginal field of observation in order to study the same phenomenon in\nnature. There it meets us in the form of the rainbow, which we shall\nnow be able to read as a chapter in the great book of nature.\n\nFrom what we have learnt already we can say at once that the rainbow\nmust represent some sort of border-phenomenon, thus pointing to the\nexistence of a boundary between two space-regions of differing\nillumination. Our question therefore must be: what is the light-image\nwhose boundary comes to coloured manifestation in the phenomenon of the\nrainbow? There can be no doubt that the image is that of the sun-disk,\nshining in the sky. When we see a rainbow, what we are really looking\nat is the edge of an image of the sun-disk, caught and reflected, owing\nto favourable conditions, in the atmosphere. (Observe in this respect\nthat the whole area inside the rainbow is always considerably brighter\nthan the space outside.)\n\nOnce we realize this to be the true nature of the rainbow, the peculiar\norder of its colours begins to speak a significant language. The\nessential point to observe is that the blue-violet part of the spectrum\nlies on the inner side of the rainbow-arch - the side immediately\nadjoining the outer rim of the sun-image - while the yellow-red part\nlies on the outer side of the arch - the side turned away from the\nsun-image. What can we learn from this about the distribution of\npositive and negative density inside and outside the realm occupied by\nthe sun-disk itself in the cosmos?\n\nWe remember that along the gradient from blue to violet, negative\ndensity (Light) increases and positive density (Dark) decreases, while\nfrom yellow to red it is just the reverse-positive density increases\nand negative density decreases. The rainbow therefore indicates a\nsteady increase of Dark towards the outer rim, and of Light towards the\ninner. Evidently, what the optical image of the sun in the atmosphere\nthus reveals concerning the gradation of the ratio between Light and\nDark in the radial direction, is an attribute of the entire light-realm\nwhich stretches from the sun to that image. And again, the attribute of\nthis realm is but an effect of the dynamic relation between the sun\nitself and the surrounding cosmic space.\n\nThe rainbow thus becomes a script to us in which we read the remarkable\nfact that the region occupied by the sun in the cosmos is a region of\nnegative density, in relation to which the region surrounding the sun\nis one of positive density. Far from being an accumulation of\nponderable matter in a state of extremely high temperature, as science\nsupposes, the sun represents the very opposite of ponderability. (It\nwould be beyond the scope of this book to show how in the light of this\nfact one learns to re-read the various solar phenomena known to\nscience.)\n\nOnce we realize this, our judgment of all that our terrestrially\ndevised optical instruments, such as the telescope and spectroscope,\ntell us about the nature of the sun and its surroundings, will change\naccordingly. For it becomes clear that for the interpretation of solar\nphenomena shown by these instruments we cannot properly use concepts\nderived from observations within the earth's realm of positive density.\n\nTo compare adequately solar and terrestrial phenomena, we must keep in\nmind that they are in every respect polar opposites. For instance, the\nfact that the spectroscope reveals phenomena in the sun's light which\nare strikingly similar to others occurring when earthly matter is first\ncaused to emit light - that is, brought near the upper border of its\nponderable existence - and then studied spectroscopically, should not\nimpose on us the illusion that the sun consists of matter in this same\ncondition. On the contrary, the similarity should tell us that\nimponderable substance, while on its way between sun and earth to\nponderable existence, assumes, at the point of transition, aspects\nexactly like those revealed by ponderable substance at the\ncorresponding point in its upward transformation.\n\nWhat we observe, when we study the sun through a spectroscope, is not\nthe sun itself, but the conditions obtaining in this border-region,\nwhere imponderable substance enters the earth-realm.\n\nThe rainbow, directly we learn to see it as the border-phenomenon that\nit is, tells us something of itself which revives in modern form a\nconception held generally in former ages, when it was seen as a\nmediator between the cosmic-divine and the earthly-human worlds. Thus\nthe Bible speaks of it as a symbol of God's reconciliation with the\nhuman race after the great Flood. Thus the Greeks beheld it when they\nsaw it as the bridge of Iris, messenger of the Gods; and similarly the\nGermanic mythology speaks of it as the pathway along which the souls of\nthe fallen warriors draw near to Valhalla. By recovering this old\nconception in a new and scientifically grounded form we are enabled\nalso to rectify the misunderstanding from which the ancient\nbridge-conception of the rainbow has suffered in later days, when\ntradition had begun to replace direct insight into the truth.\n\nWhen with the rise of man's onlooker-relation to the world of the\nsenses, the rainbow could appear to him only as a form flattened\nagainst the sky, people began to think that the ancient picture of it\nas a bridge had been derived from its likeness to the latter's arched\nform. Representations of the rainbow from these times indeed show\nsupersensible beings, such as the souls of the dead, moving upwards and\ndownwards along the two halves of the arch. It is not in this abstract\nway that ancient man formed his cosmic imagery. What was seen going on\nbetween the upper and nether worlds when a rainbow appeared in the\nheights of the atmosphere was no traffic over the arch, but an\ninterplay across the rainbow between the realm of levity, glimmering\ndown in the rainbow's violet border, and the realm of gravity glowing\nup from the red. And this is how we have now learnt to see it again.\n\n*\n\nAt one point in our optical studies (page 259) we referred to some\nwords of Ruskin in which he deplored the influence exerted on the\nsoul-life of modern man by the world-conception of science. He\nillustrated this by showing how much less inspiration a man trained in\nthe science of optics receives from the sight of a rainbow than does a\n'simple peasant'. One lesson of our studies is that training in optics,\nif it proceeds on Goethean lines, has no such detrimental effect. There\nis, however, a further problem, outside Ruskin's scope, which we are\nnow able to approach in the same healthy way.\n\nRuskin distinguishes between three possible stages in man's relation to\nthe world of the senses. The first stage he calls that of 'inactive\nreverie'; the second - in a certain respect more advanced - that of\n'useful thought', the stage of scientifically awakened man to whom all\nthings disintegrate into countable and nothing but countable parts.\nBeyond this, Ruskin conceives of a third, still higher stage, in which\nman becomes capable of raising himself through 'higher contemplation'\ninto an artistic-ethical relation to the content of the sense-world.\nNow, in the way Ruskin represents the second and third stages they seem\nto be exclusive of one another. That was as far as he could go, in his\nown day. Natural observation along Goethean lines leads to a form of\nhigher contemplation which unites the second and third stages by\nnourishing man's ethical being and at the same time furnishing him with\nuseful knowledge-knowledge, that is, which enables him to improve the\nconditions of the human race on the earth. The following is an example\nof the practical possibilities that open up in the field we are\ndiscussing if we apply the knowledge gained through our new approach to\nthe forces working in nature.\n\nWe shall speak here of a task of experimental research which was\nmentioned by Rudolf Steiner in connexion with the renewal of natural\nscience.\n\nRudolf Steiner felt the need for pioneers who, by advancing along the\npaths opened up by Goethe, would press forward into the realm of\nundiscovered phenomena on the upper border of nature, and this prompted\nhim to give to those who were ready to listen various pointers towards\nnew ways of experimental research. In so far as practical results have\nalready been reached along these lines, they lie in the fields of\nbiology and physiology (and of chemistry, in a certain respect) rather\nthan in that of physics. Now, among the indications given in this\nlatter field, and not yet worked out, there is one which deals with a\nway, unknown to-day, of influencing the spectrum by the magnet.\n\nThe possibility of a magnetic influence on the spectrum is, in itself,\nnot unknown to modern physics. It was the Dutchman, Zeeman, who first\nobserved a change in the appearance of certain spectral lines as a\nresult of light passing through a magnetic field. This discovery,\nhowever, is in two respects typical of modern science. The Zeeman\neffect consists in the splitting up of certain spectral lines into\nother lines - hence, of a breaking up of a whole into parts. And by\nseemingly providing a decisive confirmation of contemporary views\nconcerning the electromagnetic nature of light, Zeeman's discovery has\nformed one of the milestones in the progress of modern physical thought\n- with the usual result that an enlargement of man's knowledge of the\nbehaviour of natural forces has served to entangle his conception of\nnature still more deeply in illusion.\n\nApart from the fact that our own way of combining observation and\nthought guards us against drawing theoretical conclusions from Zeeman's\ndiscovery, Rudolf Steiner's indication opens up the prospect of\nachieving quite practical results, opposite in character to those of\nthe Zeeman effect. For in contradistinction to the use of a magnetic\nfield for splitting the spectrum, Rudolf Steiner has made us aware of\nthe possibility of uniting into a higher synthesis parts of the\nspectrum which normally appear in separated form. His indication points\nto nothing less than a leading over of the optically produced spectrum\nfrom its usual linear form, with two boundaries on either side, into a\nclosed circular form, and of doing this by an adequate application - as\nyet undiscovered - of magnetic force. Further, according to his\nstatement, the point where the two ends of the spectrum meet will prove\nto be a fountain-head of certain higher natural forces which otherwise\nare not directly accessible.\n\nIn order to understand how this is possible, we must remember that in\ntwo respects the spectrum is not a complete phenomenon. There is, to\nbegin with, the fact that the colour-band visible on the observation\nscreen is only apparently confined to the surface of the screen. For,\nas we have seen, because of the differing co-ordination of levity and\ngravity at the two ends of the spectrum, the conditions of space\nprevailing at each are polarically opposite. Negative space opens up\nspherically behind the blue-violet colours on one side, while positive\nspace, filled by the radially shining yellow-red colours, arises on the\nother. So we see that what we found earlier for the two poles of\nmagnetism and electricity holds good also for the spectrum. That is,\nthe two processes bringing about the relevant phenomena are not\nconfined to the part of space which these phenomena seem to occupy; for\nthe whole positive and negative realms of the universe share in them.\nHence the spectrum, though apparently bounded at its two ends, proves\nby its very nature to be part of a greater whole.\n\nOnce before we were led to recognize - though from a different aspect -\nthat the spectrum is a phenomenon which, when rightly viewed, calls for\na certain completion. In following Goethe's initial observations we\nrealized that the known spectrum, extending from red via green to\nviolet, has a counterpart extending from violet via peach-blossom to\nred. The reader may have wondered why we never returned to this other\nspectrum, in spite of the role it played in making Goethe aware of\nNewton's error. The reason was that in order to gain the understanding\nwe needed of the spectrum, we had to observe the two border-phenomena\nindependently - that is, without regard to their relative positions.\nMoreover, with ordinary optical means it is possible to produce only\none type of spectrum at a time, so that each is left in need of being\ncomplemented by the other. In order to have both together in finite\nspace, as part of one and the same phenomenon, space itself must be\ndynamically transformed in such a way that the continuation of the\nfinite spectral band running through infinity enters into the finite as\nwell.\n\nOur understanding of magnetism as a specific representation of the\npolarity of the second order enables us to comprehend, at least in\nprinciple, how magnetism might influence - not light itself, as\npresent-day physics erroneously believes - but the secondary polarity\nof the spectral colours formed out of the primary polarity Light and\nDark. To see this in all necessary detail is a task of the future,\nbeyond the scope of this book. We have here to continue our account of\nRudolf Steiner's statement by communicating what he indicated\nconcerning the particular nature of the new source of force which would\nappear in the normally infinite part of the spectrum, if this were\nbrought into the region of the finite.\n\nIn order to understand the significance of this indication we must turn\nour attention to parts of the ordinary spectrum, well known in\nthemselves, which we have purposely left out of our study so far. These\nare the regions of the ultra-violet and the infra-red, invisible in\nthemselves, but forming part of the spectrum as a whole. The\nultraviolet manifests through chemical effects, the infra-red through\nthermal effects. We have left them out of our considerations because\nthese regions of the spectrum differ from the visible part not only\nquantitatively, as present-day science believes, but qualitatively\nalso, and in a fundamental way. We must regard them as dynamic realms\nof particularly extreme spherical and radial activities. As such they\nrepresent metamorphoses, in the Goethean sense, of the levity-gravity\ninteraction represented by the optically visible part of the spectrum.\nIn this way the spectrum discloses a threefold differentiation of that\nregion of force, which up to now we have called simply levity, into\nactivities producing chemical, optical and thermal effects.\n\nSo far physical investigation is able to lead us, but no further. If,\nhowever, we let nature herself speak to us, while holding this\ndifferentiated concept of levity in mind, she tells us that beyond the\nthree metamorphoses envisaged so far, there must be a fourth.\n\nLet us remember that it was certain phenomena of life which first made\nus aware of the existence of a realm of forces with the attributes of\nanti-gravity, and that these forces revealed themselves first as\ncreators of form. Now it is obvious that warmth, light and chemical\nenergy, though they all play an essential part in living organisms,\ncould never by themselves bring about that 'catching from chaos,\ncarbon, water, lime and what not and fastening them into a given form'\nwhich Ruskin describes as the activity of the spirit in the plant. In\norder to be in this sense an instrument of the spirit active in nature,\nlevity must be capable of yet another metamorphosis into an activity\nwhich controls the other three, so that through their action,\ndefinitely shaped organic structures may come into being.\n\nThe reason why this fourth and highest metamorphosis of Light does not\nappear in the ordinary spectrum is because it is of too spiritual a\nquality to be caught by the optical apparatus. In nature herself a\ncreative life-process requires always the presence of a germ already\nimbued with life. And so, in order to call this fourth metamorphosis of\nLight into the spectrum, stronger means are needed than the mere\noptical transformation of light-filled spaces. This stronger agent,\naccording to Rudolf Steiner, is magnetism. With the aid of this it will\nbe possible to organize together round a common spatial centre that\npart of the activity of levity which escapes the optical instrument and\nthus remains cosmic, and that part which appears by itself in\nterrestrial space.\n\nOnce this is practically carried out, we may expect a complete\ncolour-circle to appear as already divined by Goethe. The full circle\nconsists of twelve discernible colours, with the Goethean peach-blossom\ndiametrically opposite the green. It is in this region of the\npeach-blossom that - again according to Rudolf Steiner - we shall find\na source of actively working life-forces, springing from the fourth\nmetamorphosis of levity. Such is the prospect for research work guided\non the new lines.\n\nPOSTSCRIPT\n\nThe fact of our having disclosed here one of Rudolf Steiner's\nindications concerning as yet undetected possibilities of scientific\nresearch, makes it necessary to deal with an objection which may be\nraised, particularly by some readers who already know this indication\nthrough their own relation to Rudolf Steiner's work. They may object to\na discussion of the subject in a publication such as this, feeling it\ndangerous to hand over to the world information which in the economic\nbattles of to-day might be used in a sense contrary to the social-moral\naims to which the work of Rudolf Steiner was dedicated.\n\nIn reply it may be said that all we have gone through in this book has\nshown that concrete knowledge of the world cannot be gained without a\ncertain ethical effort by the seeker. Therefore, anyone who receives\nsuch knowledge with a passive attitude of soul will find it\nmeaningless, and will be quite unable to turn it to practical account.\nWe may therefore rest assured that the solution of the problem related\nhere, as of any other experimental task set by Rudolf Steiner, will\ncontain in itself a guarantee that no use will be made of it\ndetrimental to the true progress of mankind.\n\nOn the other hand, the present world-situation, which to so high a\ndegree is determined by the vast liberation of the sub-physical forces\nof the earth, makes one feel it is essential not to close the\nconsiderations of the fields of knowledge dealt with in these chapters,\nwithout a hint at the practical possibilities which arise from a\ncontinuation of Goethe's strivings in this field.\n\n1 See, in Rudolf Steiner's edition of Goethe's scientific writings, his\nfootnote to Goethe's criticism of Nuguet's theory of the spectrum in\nthe historical part of the Farbenlehre (Vol. IV, p. 248, in K\u00c3\u00bcrschner's\nedition).\n\n2 It is obvious that the reader who wishes to appreciate fully the\nsignificance of the observations described in the following paragraphs,\nmust, as in previous cases, carry out these observations himself.\n\n3 In this and the two following diagrams the light-realm has been\nrepresented as being less wide than the space obtained by the prism. To\navoid unnecessary complexity the colours which, in such a case,\nactually appear at the border of the light-realm where it emerges from\nthe prism are not shown in any of the diagrams.\n\n4 This direction can be established with sufficient exactitude by\nholding a very thin object right in front of the prism and marking with\na stretched thread the direction which leads from the object to its\nshadow on the screen. The colour-producing edge must then be introduced\nfrom either side so that it just touches the thread.\n\n5 The difference in character of the various parts of the spectrum, as\ndescribed above, comes out particularly impressively if for capturing\nthe colour-phenomenon one uses instead of a flat white surface, a clear\ncrystal of not too small size, or else a cluster of crystals - moving\nit slowly along the coloured band from one end to the other. (I am\nindebted to Fr. Julius, teacher of Natural Science at the Free School\nin The Hague, for this suggestion.)\n\n\nPART III\n\nTowards a New Cosmosophy\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX\n\nThe Country in which Man is not a Stranger\n\nI question not my Corporeal or Vegetative Eye any more than I question\na window concerning sight. I look through it and not with it.\nWILLIAM BLAKE.\n\n(a) INTRODUCTORY NOTE\n\nA fundamental achievement along our path of study was the recognition\nthat a force of levity exists, polar to that of gravity, and that these\ntwo together represent a primary polarity in nature which in turn is\nthe source of nature's manifold secondary polarities.\n\nIn the last part of these studies a vista opened up of an inner\ndifferentiation of levity itself into warmth, light, chemical action\nand the formative activity of life. Our next task will be to develop a\nclearer conception of these four modes of action of levity.\n\nIn undertaking this task, however, we shall have to extend our\nobservations of nature beyond the frontier that can be reached by using\nonly what we can learn from Goethe. It is here that Rudolf Steiner\ncomes to our aid by what he was able to impart through his researches\nin the realm of the supersensible itself.\n\nThis turning to information given by another mind, whose sources of\nknowledge are beyond our own immediate reach, seems at first sight to\nbe incompatible with the principles guiding all our studies hitherto;\nfor in gaining insight into the How and Whence of a phenomenon of the\nsense-world we have up to now admitted only what is yielded by an\nobservation of the phenomenon per se (though with the aid of the 'eye\nof the spirit') and of other phenomena related to it. This is what we\nhave called 'reading in the book of nature', and we have found it to be\nthe method on which a science aspiring to overcome the onlooker-picture\nof the universe must be based. So we must first make sure that the step\nwe now propose to take does not violate\n\nthis principle.\n\n*\n\nThe assurance we want will be found in two characteristics of the\ncommunications made by Rudolf Steiner from his researches. The content\nof these communications was acquired by way of a 'reading' which is\nnothing but a higher metamorphosis of the reading first employed by\nGoethe; and the acceptance of this content by another mind is itself\nnothing but another act of reading, save that the direction of the\nreading gaze differs from the usual one.\n\nIn order to understand this we must go back to what we learnt in the\ncourse of our optical studies as to the two forms of vision arising\nfrom the activity of the eye's inner light - the dream-vision and the\nseeing of after-images. Of these two, seeing in dream is in a certain\nsense the purer form of inner seeing in that it arises without any\nouter stimulus exercised upon the physical organ of sight. On the other\nhand, it lacks that objective conformity to law characteristic of the\nafter-images which mirror the order of the external world. There is an\narbitrary, enigmatic element in dream-pictures, and their logic often\nseems to run counter to that of waking consciousness. A further\ncharacteristic of dream-perception is that we are tied to the level of\nconsciousness prevailing in the dream. While we are dreaming we cannot\nawaken to the extent of being able to make the pictures the object of\nconscious observation.\n\nWith the after-images it is different. Although to begin with they are\npresent in our consciousness with a clarity no greater than that of the\ndream-pictures, nevertheless we are able so to enhance our\nconsciousness of them as to bring them under observation like any\nexternal phenomenon. As previously shown, it is possible, even while\nthe eye is riveted on an impression from outside, to develop such\nawareness in the activity of the inner light called forth by this\nimpression, that together with the results of the deeds and sufferings\nof the light we can perceive something of these deeds and sufferings\nthemselves. Perception of the after-images thus turns into what we may\ncall perception of simultaneous images. (This activity of the eye\ncorresponds with what Goethe, in a different connexion, called an\n'alliance of the eyes of spirit with the eyes of the body'.)\n\nThese two forms of visual perception - which we may briefly call: (1)\nperception of post-images, and (2) perception of co-images - represent\nsuccessive rungs on a 'spiritual ladder' pointing beyond themselves to\na further rung. By the logic of succession this may be expected to\nconsist in some sort of seeing of pre-images, with the characteristic\nof being a still less physical mode of seeing than the two others. This\nseeing must be based on an activity of the inner light which will be\nsimilar to that in dream by its arising without any stimulus from\nexternal light-impressions, yet at the same time there must be no\narbitrariness in the contents of this perception. Further, our\nconsciousness in this perceptive activity must be such as to allow us\nto be in full control of it, as we are of ordinary day-waking seeing.\n\nThis kind of pure sense-free perception does indeed exist, and it can\nbe aroused by means of a well-ordered training from the dormant state\nin which it is present in every human being. Anyone who learns to see\nin this way gains perception of the activity of cosmic light,\ncontacting it directly with his own inner light - that is to say,\nwithout mediation of his corporeal eye which is subject to gravity. So\nthis eye-of-the-spirit becomes capable of perceiving the levity-woven\narchetypes (ur-images), which underlie all that the physical eye\ndiscerns in the world of ordinary space.\n\nIn respect of the intrinsic character of the world-content thus\nperceived, Rudolf Steiner called this mode of perception, Imaginative\nperception, or, simply, Imagination. By so doing he invested this word\nwith its due and rightful meaning.\n\nFrom what we found in our optical studies concerning the nature of\nafter-images (Chapter XV), it is clear that the acquisition of\nImaginative perception rests on a re-awakening in the eye (and thus in\nthe total organism behind the eye) of certain 'infant' forces which\nhave grown dormant in the course of the growing up of the human being.\nIt thus represents a fulfilment of Thomas Reid's philosophic demand.\nConsequently we find among the descriptions which Traherne gives of the\nmode of perception peculiar to man when the inner light, brought into\nthis world at birth, is not yet absorbed by the physical eye, many\nhelpful characterizations of the nature of Imaginative perception, some\nof which may be quoted here.\n\nConsider, in this respect, the following passage from Traherne's poem\nThe Praeparative, quoted earlier. In describing the state of soul at a\ntime when the physical senses are not yet in operation, Traherne says:\n\n'Then was my Soul my only All to me,\n\nA living, endless Ey, Whose Power, and Act, and Essence was to see:\n\nI was an inward Sphere of Light Or an interminable Orb of Sight,\nExceeding that which makes the Days,\nA vital sun that shed abroad its Rays:\nAll Life, all Sense,\nA naked, simple, pure Intelligence.''\n\nThis is the condition of soul of which Traherne says in the same poem\nthat through it a man is still a recipient of the 'true Ideas of all\nthings'. In this condition the object of sight is not the corporeal\nworld which reflects the light, but light itself, engaged in the\nweaving of the archetypal images. In a later passage of the same poem\nTraherne expresses this by saying:\n\n'Tis not the Object, but the Light\nThat maketh Hev'n. ...'\n\nAnd more clearly still in the following part of his poem An Infant Eye:\n'A simple Light from all Contagion free,\nA Beam that's purely Spiritual, an Ey\nThat's altogether Virgin, Things doth see\nEv'n like unto the Deity;\nThat is, it shineth in an hevenly Sense,\nAnd round about (Unmov'd) its Light dispense.\n\n'The visiv Rays are Beams of Light indeed,\nRefined, subtil, piercing, quick and pure;\nAnd as they do the sprightly winds exceed,\nAre worthy longer to endure;\nThey far out-shoot the Reach of Grosser Air,\nWith which such Excellence may not compare.\nBut being once debas'd, they soon becom\nLess activ than they were before.'\n\nHow at this stage the soul experiences the act of perception in itself\nis shown in the following passage from the poem Wonder:\n\n'A Nativ Health and Innocence\nWithin my Bones did grow\nAnd while my God did all his Glories show\nI felt a vigour in my Sense\nThat was all SPIRIT: I within did flow\nWith seas of Life like Wine.'\n\nUtterances of this kind illustrate the fact that perception of the\nur-images of the world consists in a reading with the\neye-of-the-spirit, which has been rendered so strong that for its\naction no support from the physical eye is any longer required. This\nfaculty of spiritual Imagination (which Rudolf Steiner was able to\nexercise in advance of other human beings) is acquired on a path of\ntraining which is the direct continuation of the Goethean path.1\n\nIt remains to show that acceptance of information obtained through\nspiritual Imagination, without ourselves being as yet in actual command\nof it, is not in contradiction with the principles of 'reading'. Let\nus, to this end, think of reading in the ordinary sense of this word,\ncalling to mind that for the acquisition of this faculty we depend on\nsomeone who can teach it because he already has it. Exactly the same\nholds good for the reading with which we are here concerned. Here, too,\na teacher already possessing this faculty is required. Thus Goethe\nbecame for us a teacher of reading, and it would be a mistake to\nimagine that he, for his part, needed no teacher. In his case this\nfunction was fulfilled partly by what he learned through his studies of\nthe earlier fruits of man's spiritual activity, that is, from an epoch\nwhen vestiges at least of the original, instinctive faculty of\nspiritual Imagination were still extant. A similar function on our own\npath of study was performed by our occupation with the old doctrine of\nthe four elements and the basic concepts of alchemy.\n\nIndispensable as is such a training in reading by turning to past\nconceptions of man, it does not suffice to meet the present-day demands\nof a scientific understanding of the universe. For this, we need a\n'technique' of reading that cannot be attained along these lines alone.\nAwareness of this fact led Rudolf Steiner to pursue his\nspiritual-scientific investigations and to communicate the results in\nsuch a way that they can be a 'school of reading' for those who study\nthem.2 In point of fact we have already made use in this sense of one\nof the results of Rudolf Steiner's researches, for at the very\nbeginning of this book his picture of the threefold psycho-physical\norganism of man was taken as the basis of our own investigations. The\nreason why the present remarks were not then included is that the\nrelevant results of higher research were in that case of such a nature\nthat, once known, they could be confirmed by the simplest kind of\nself-observation. The fact, however, remains that from the very\nbeginning we have called upon one fully trained in reading, to help in\ndeciphering certain facts of nature - in this case of human nature.\n\nA similar need, though now in an amplified form, arises at the present\nstage of our studies. And here, out of the wealth of knowledge conveyed\nby Rudolf Steiner from the realm of supersensible Imagination, it is\nhis characterization of the four modifications of levity which will now\ngive the guidance necessary for our own observation. Adopting the\nterminology chosen by him for the description of this sphere, we shall\nin future speak of it as of the 'Ether' pervading the universe (thus\nusing this word also in its true and original meaning). Accordingly, we\nshall refer to its fourfold differentiation as to the four kinds of\nether: Warmth-Ether, Light-Ether, Chemical Ether and Life-Ether.\n\n* *\n *\n(b) WARMTH\n\nWe begin with the warmth-ether as the only modification of ether which\ncombines certain etheric with certain physical properties. Constituting\nas it does a border-condition between the two worlds, the warmth-ether\nhas, on the one hand, the function of receiving the picture-weaving\ntransmitted to it by the higher ethers, and, on the other, of bringing\nphysical matter into the state where it becomes receptive to the\nworking of the etheric forces. The warmth-ether achieves this by\nfreeing matter from being controlled one-sidedly by the centre-bound\nforces of the earth. It thus calls forth, when acting physically, the\nprocesses of melting of solids and of evaporation of liquids: phenomena\nwhich yielded the initial observations for our introduction of the\nconcept of levity. In processes of this kind we now recognize the\nphysical manifestation of a universal function of the warmth-ether,\nnamely, to divest matter of all form and to lead it over from the realm\ndominated by gravity into that of levity. Provided we attach the right\nmeaning to the word, we may say that the function of the warmth-ether\nis to bring about chaos at the upper border of physical nature. It is\nthus that we have already found it working in the plant, when through\nthe union of the pollen with the seed a state of chaos is produced\nwithin the seed, which enables the type to impress anew its\nform-principle into it.\n\nAnother instance of the warmth-ether's anti-gravitational effect, also\ndiscussed earlier, is the earth's seismic activity. True, it appears at\nfirst sight as if little were gained by speaking of warmth-ether,\ninstead, as we did previously, of levity in general. But it must not be\nforgotten that in the ether-realm as a whole, warmth - that is, the\novercoming of earthly gravity - is only one of the four modes of\netheric action, albeit the one which enables the other three to work\ninto the physical world. We shall see, later on, that only by taking\ninto account the action of the higher modifications of the ether is it\npossible to gain insight into the true causes of the apparently so\narbitrary occurrences of volcanic and kindred phenomena. Here, too, it\nis the function of the warmth-ether to produce in the physical sphere\nthe chaos which is necessary to make the physical sphere receptive to\nthe activities going on in higher spheres.\n\nIn view of this universal function of the warmth-ether, which\ndistinguishes it from the other modifications of ether, we may give it\nas a second name that of 'chaoticizing ether'.\n\n* *\n *\n(c) LIGHT\n\nThe function of the light-ether, the second of the four modes of ether,\ncan best be envisaged by thinking of the difference between a plant\ngrowing in darkness (perhaps a potato sprouting in a cellar) and\nanother of the same species exposed to the influence of the light. On\nPlates VII and VIII two kinds of unicellular organisms are shown, of\none which - the green algae - is accustomed to live in light, the other\n- the bacilli - in darkness. These things are, of course, well-known\nfacts. Our purpose here, however, is not merely to record them as\n'fact', but, by re-creating them within ourselves, to use them to gain\nan experience of the function of the light-ether.\n\nThe following passages from Goethe's Metamorphosis of Plants are a\nclassical example of observation of the activity of the light-ether in\nthe plant. They are taken from the second part of the essay, where\nGoethe is describing leaf-development:\n\n'While the leaves owe their first nourishment principally to the more\nor less modified watery parts, which they draw from the stem, they are\nindebted for their increased perfection and refinement to the light and\nair. The cotyledons which are formed beneath the closed seed-sheath are\ncharged, so to speak, with only a crude sap; they are scarcely and but\nrudely organized and quite undeveloped. In the same way the leaves are\nmore rudely organized in plants which grow under water than in others\nwhich are exposed to the open air. Indeed, even the same species of\nplant develops smoother and less intricately formed leaves when growing\nin low damp places, whereas, if transplanted to a higher region, it\nwill produce leaves which are rough, hairy and more delicately\nfinished.'\n\n'So it is also with the anastomosis of the vessels which spring forth\nfrom the larger veins, seeking each other with their ends and\ncoalescing, and thus providing the necessary basis for the leaf-skin or\ncuticle. All this, if not entirely caused by subtle forms of air, is at\nleast very much furthered by them. If the leaves of many water-plants\nare thread-like or assume the form of antlers, we are inclined to\nattribute it to lack of complete anastomosis. The growth of the water\nbuttercup, Ranunculus aquatilis, shows this quite obviously, with its\naquatic leaves consisting of mere thread-like veins, while in the\nleaves developed above water the anastomosis is complete and a\nconnected plane is formed. Occasionally, indeed, in this plant, the\ntransition may be still more definitely observed, in leaves which are\nhalf anastomosed and half thread-like.'\n\nThe second of these paragraphs describes the phenomenon of vascular\nanastomosis which, having already been more than once an object of our\nstudy, here reveals a new meaning. If, following Goethe's method, we\nre-create in our mind the repeated separations and reunions of the\nsap-vessels, while keeping in view the fact that the leaf's outer form\nis the result of a purposive, many times repeated anastomosis, then the\npicture of the activity of weaving arises before our mind's eye. (Hence\nthe word 'tissue' for the flesh of a living being.) In truth all\nnature's forms are woven of light, including the crystals.3\n\nHow clear a picture Goethe had of the conformity of man's act of\nthinking with nature's way of producing her forms - both being an act\nof supersensible weaving - is shown by the following two verses. That\non the left is a passage from Faust, from the scene in which Mephisto\n(disguised as Faust) instructs the young Scholar. The other is an\naltered version of it, written by Goethe at a later time to conclude an\nessay (Bedenken und Ergebung) in which he deals with the problem of the\nrelation between Experience and Idea:\n\nTruly, when men their thoughts conceive\n'Tis as if some masterpiece they weave.\nOne thread, and a thousand strands take flight,\nSwift to and fro the shuttles going,\nAll unseen the threads a-flowing,\nOne stroke, and a thousand close unite.1\n\nSo with a modest eye perceive\nHer masterpiece Dame Nature weave.\nOne thread, and a thousand strands take flight,\nSwift to and fro the shuttles going,\nEach to the other the threads a-flowing,\nOne stroke, and a thousand close unite.4 -\n\nWhat Goethe wants to show here by applying to the activity of nature\nthe same image which he used originally to depict the act of thinking,\nwe can express to-day by saying that it is the identity of the activity\nof the light-ether in human thinking and in external nature which is\nresponsible for the fact that the objective ideas operating in nature\ncan become the content of man's consciousness in the form of thoughts.5\n\nFollowing our previous procedure when we gave the warmth-ether a second\nname by calling it chaoticizing ether, we can denote the light-ether\nalso as 'weaving ether'.\n\n*\n\nIf at this point in our discussion we revert once more to the realm of\nphysical manifestations of light, dealt with in the preceding chapters,\nwe do so because by studying them in the present context we shall gain\nfurther insight into the fact that one plane of nature provides\nillustrations of processes which on another plane remain more or less\nveiled. At the same time this will help us to learn more about the\nproperties of levity-space. The optical phenomenon which we shall\ndiscuss in this sense is that of the so-called pin-hole camera. (The\npin-hole camera effect is easily produced by a keyhole in a closed door\nwhich on one side faces a window and on the other leads to a\ncomparatively dark room.)\n\nThe usual explanation of the appearance of the optical image on the\nback inside wall of such a camera is that light-rays, emanating from\nevery point outside, cross each other in the aperture of the camera and\nso - again point by point - create the inverted image. No such\nexplanation, clearly, is open to us. For the world of external objects\nis a whole, and so is its image appearing in the camera. Equally, the\nlight entering the camera is not a sum of single rays. Pure observation\nleads to the following description of the optical process.\n\nBy surveying the path which the light takes from the illuminated\nsurface of the outer objects via the pin-hole to the optical image\ninside the camera, we realize that the light-realm engaged in this\nprocess has the shape of a double cone, with its apex in the opening of\nthe camera. Within this cone the light carries the image across the\nspace stretching in front of the light-reflecting objects up to the\npoint where the image becomes visible by being caught on the back wall\nof the camera.\n\nThus in every section of the cone the image is present in its totality\n- even in the very apex of the cone. There, too, the image in all its\ndetails is present as a whole, though without (ideally) any spatial\nextension. Seen thus, on this level of its action the light-ether\nreveals as one of its characteristics the faculty of making present in\na spaceless point an image originally expanded in space, and of letting\nit emerge from this point in spatial expansion.\n\nFurther, there is the fact that, wherever we set up a pin-hole camera,\nthe aperture in its front will cause the formation of an optical image\ninside it. This shows that each point in space filled with light is the\nbearer of an optical image, contracted to a point, of the entire world\nof light-reflecting objects surrounding it. All we do with such a\ncamera is to select a particular image and bring it to separate\nvisibility.\n\nThrough these observations we grow aware of light's faculty of\ncommunicating simultaneously to space as a whole, and to each point in\nit, a potential image of the light-reflecting object.\n\nWhat we observe here in the sphere of physical light-activity is\nexactly what the light-ether performs on a higher level of nature when\nwith its help the spiritual archetype of a plant takes on spatial\nappearance. For to this end the archetype, itself without spatial\nlimitations, imprints its image into the tiny seed, whence the growing\nplant organism carries it again into space. And there is in principle\nno limitation to the number of such seeds, each of which will bear the\ncomplete image of the archetype.\n\n* *\n *\n(d) SOUND\n\nThe characteristics of the third modification of ether are such that\nthey prompted Rudolf Steiner to give it as a second name, besides\nchemical ether, that of sound-ether. In view of the fact, stressed at\nthe beginning of this chapter, that perception of the ether is achieved\nby a heightening of the power of the spirit-eye, it must cause surprise\nto learn that a certain mode of activity of the ether has a quality\nwhich makes appeal to aural experiences. The full answer to this riddle\nmust await the discussion that follows this chapter. Two points,\nhowever, may be brought forward at once. Firstly, where gravity, with\nits tendency to individualize, is absent, no such sharp distinctions\nexist between one form of perception and another as are found in the\nsphere of the physical senses.6 Secondly, even in ordinary\nsense-perception a certain overlapping of visual and aural experiences\nis known to us. We need only think how common it is to give musical\nattributes, such as 'consonant' and 'dissonant' to colours, and to\ndescribe tones as 'light' and 'dark'. The reason is that subconsciously\nwe accompany visual experiences with tone-sensations, and vice versa.\nCases are even known of human beings in whom the secondary sensation\noccurs with such intensity as to equal the primary one. Such people say\nthat they 'see' sounds and 'hear' colours.\n\n*\n\nEverything that is true of the supersensible sphere we may expect to\ncome to expression in some form in the world of sense-perception. The\nsphere of the ether is the sphere of the creative archetypes of the\nworld, and when we learn that to one part of this world the character\nof sound is attributed, we must search for a phenomenon, perceptible to\nour senses, which reveals to us the secret of the sound's form-creating\npower. This we have in the so-called sound-figures, discovered by the\nGerman physicist Chladni (1756-1827) and called after him 'Chladni's\nsound-figures'. A short description of how they are produced will not\nbe out of place.\n\nA round or square plate of glass or brass, fixed at its centre so that\nit can vibrate freely at its edges, is required. It is evenly and not\ntoo thickly covered with fine sand or lycopodium powder and then caused\nto vibrate acoustically by the repeated drawing of a violin-bow with\nsome pressure across the edge of the plate until a steady note becomes\naudible. Through the vibrations thus caused within the plate, the\nparticles of sand or powder are set in movement and caused to collect\nin certain stationary parts of the plate, thereby creating figures of\nvery regular and often surprising form. By stroking the plate at\ndifferent points on the edge, and at the same time damping the\nvibrations by touching the edge at other points with the finger, notes\nof different pitch can be produced, and for each of these notes a\ncharacteristic figure will appear (Fig. 14).7\n\nThe significance for us of Chladni's experiment will emerge still more\nclearly if we modify it in the following way. Instead of directly\nsetting the plate with the powder into vibration by stroking it with\nthe bow, we produce a corresponding movement on a second plate and let\nit be transmitted to the other by resonance. For this purpose the two\nplates must be acoustically tuned to each other and placed not too far\napart. Let us imagine, further, that the whole experiment was arranged\n- as it well might be - in such a way that the second plate was hidden\nfrom a spectator, who also lacked the faculty of hearing. This gives us\na picture of the situation in which we find ourselves whenever the\nhigher kinds of ether by way of a tone-activity inaudible to our\nphysical ear, cause shapeless matter to assume regularly ordered form.\n\n*\n\nThis comparison of the activity of the sound-ether, as the\nform-creating element in nature, with Chladni's phenomenon is drawn\ncorrectly only if we recognize that the conception of form, as an\nexpression of that which is called forth through the etheric forces in\nnature, comprises more than the external spatially bounded shape of an\norganic or inorganic entity. Apart from the fact already indicated,\nthat for the formation of such entities the co-operation also of\nlife-ether is necessary, we can judge the activity of sound-ether\ncorrectly only if we conceive it as a much more inward activity,\ncompared with the formation in external space of Chladni's figures. In\nthe latter case, the reason why the influence of sound causes nothing\nbeyond the ordering of form in outer space is because on this plane of\nnature the only changes that can occur are changes in the positions of\nseparate physical bodies. Where the forces of sound in ether-form are\nable to take hold of matter from within, they can produce changes of\nform of a quite different kind. This effect of the activity of\nsound-ether has given it its other name: chemical ether.\n\nWe have mentioned once before that our conception of 'form' in\norganically active nature must not be limited merely to that of a\nbody's spatial outline. This was in connexion with Ruskin's definition\nof the spiritual principle active in plant-formation as 'the power that\ncatches out of chaos charcoal, water, lime and what not, and fastens\nthem down into a given form'. Besides the external order of matter\nrevealed in space-form, there exists also an inner qualitative order\nexpressed in a body's chemical composition. Upon this inner chemical\norder is based all that we encounter as colour, smell, taste, etc., of\na substance, as well as its nourishing, healing or harmful properties.\nAccordingly, all these parts of an organism, both in the plant-kingdom\nand within the higher organisms, have a certain inner material order,\napart from their characteristic space-structure. The one is never\npresent without the other, and in some way they are causally connected.\n\nIn this inner order of substance we must see in the very first place\nthe work of the sound or chemical ether. And we should be aware that by\nthe word 'chemistry' in this connexion we mean something much more\nfar-reaching than those chemical reactions which we can bring about by\nthe reciprocal affinity of physical substances, however complicated\nthese reactions may be. A few examples will illustrate the difference\nbetween chemical processes caused by direct influence of the chemical\nether, and others in which only the physical consequences of the ether\nare effective.\n\nIn his book, Man the Unknown, Professor Carrel shows very impressively,\nby an example from the human organism, the difference of quantitative\nratio in externally similar processes, one of which occurs within the\ndomain of life, the other, outside it. He compares the quantity of\nliquid necessary to keep artificially alive a piece of living tissue\nwhich has been reduced to pulp, with the quantity of blood doing the\nsame within the living organism. If all the tissues of a human body\nwere treated in this way, it would take 45,000 gallons of circulating\nfluid to keep them from being poisoned in a few days by their own waste\nproducts. Within the living organism the blood achieves the same task\nwith 1J gallons.\n\nVery many chemical changes within living organisms are effected by the\ntwo polar processes of oxidation and reduction. We have discussed them\nrepeatedly as hieroglyphs of much that occurs in nature by way of\npolarity. In accordance with the principle ruling the physical plane of\nnature, that differences of level tend to disappear, oxidation can\noccur by itself, whereas reduction requires the expenditure of energy.\nLet us from this point of view compare the transformation of oxidized\ninto reduced iron, as it takes place inside and outside the realm of\nlife.\n\nAn example of this process in its purely physical form is the reduction\nof iron-ore to metallic iron in blast-furnaces, where, with the help of\nhigh temperature and high pressure, carbon is made to combine with the\noxygen ingredient of the ore and to impart to it its own imponderable\nenergy. Precisely the same process is going on continuously and\nunobtrusively within the human body under normal bodily conditions of\ntemperature and pressure, when the oxy-haemoglobin of the arterial\nblood changes over into the haemoglobin of the venous blood. A\nmacrotelluric counterpart of this is the transformation of the red\nriver-mud into the blue-black continental mud at the bottom of the sea,\naround the continental shores. Here, again, reduction takes place\nwithout those preliminaries that are necessary for carrying through the\nprocess by technical means.\n\nThrough examples of this kind we gain insight into the nature of the\nchemical ether as a 'magic' force (in the sense in which we have\nintroduced this term at the beginning of the book). What the chemical\nether is capable of effecting in a gentle manner, so to speak, in\ncooperation with the inertness-overcoming power of the warmth-ether,\ncan be imitated physically only by an extraordinary concentration of\nexternal energy and the use of masses of material substance. At the\nsame time the imitation is never complete. For to all that happens\nthrough the action of the chemical ether there belongs the quality of\ncosmic youth, while everything brought about in a purely physical\nmanner is of necessity cosmically old.8\n\nOf all the provinces of nature towards which man's exploring eye has\nturned since the dawn of the onlooker-consciousness, none has furthered\nhis purely quantitative thinking more than chemistry, ever since the\ndiscovery that the chemical reactions of the various substances are\nconditioned by a quite definite and constant numerical relationship. It\nwas these relationships which impelled the rise of the atomic\nconception of matter and all its consequences. For since the\nonlooker-consciousness is quite unable to conceive the existence of\nnumerical relationships in the physical world except as sums of\ncomputable units in space, it was natural for this type of\nconsciousness to reduce all empirically established numerical\nrelationships to correspending relationships among quantities of the\nsmallest possible material or matter-like units.\n\nScientific thinking, if guided by knowledge of the existence of etheric\nforces and their action, has no need of such an interpretation of the\nnumerical relationships revealed in the physical world; for it knows\nthem to be nothing but the last expression of the action of the\nchemical ether (hence occasionally also called 'number-ether' by Rudolf\nSteiner). To do justice to the appearance of measurable numerical\nrelationships in nature, in whatever sphere, it is necessary to free\nourselves from the abstract conception of number which governs modern\nscientific thought and to replace it by a more concrete one. We shall\nrind that for the existence of a certain number there may be two quite\ndifferent reasons, although the method of establishing the number\nitself is the same in each case. A simple example will illustrate this.\n\nLet us look at a number of similar objects, say a group of five apples.\nWe observe that the relation of the number five to the group of objects\nin front of us is purely external and accidental. In applying to it the\nconception 'five' we combine the single objects into a group and give\nit a name, or numerical label, which has nothing to do with the nature\nof the items making up the group. This way of thinking, we may observe,\nis of exactly the kind which the nominalists of the Middle Ages\nattributed to every conception formed by the human mind. In fact, the\nprocess of counting is a process of pure abstraction. The more\ndifferentiated are the things which we want to combine into a group\nthrough the process of counting, the further this abstraction has to\ngo. We can count apples and pears together under the collective\nconception of 'fruit'; if turnips are added, we must help ourselves out\nwith the conception 'vegetable products'; until finally we deal only\nwith 'things', without considering any qualitative differentiation.\nThus the conception of number is created solely within the human mind,\nwhich applies it to things from outside.\n\nFrom the moment when human consciousness was unable to attribute to\nitself any other than a purely nominalistic mode of comprehension it\nwas inevitable that all explanations of natural phenomena would have\ntwo results: (1) the exclusion from observation of everything that\ncould not be conceived in terms of numbers, and (2) an endeavour to\nfind for every numerical relationship capable of empirical proof an\nexplanation which could be interpreted as the result of taking\nqualitatively identical units and counting them. For this method of\nforming conceptions is the only one which nominalism can accept with a\ngood conscience. The fact that in so doing it is led ad absurdum has\nonly quite lately occurred to it. For if by the logical following of\nthis path - as in modern theoretical physics - the whole universe is\ndissolved into units which can no longer be distinguished from each\nother, then it will become impossible to count these parts, for it\ncannot be established whether any given one of these hypothetical\nelemental particles has been counted or not. None the less, Eddington\nclaimed to have found the exact number of particles composing the\nuniverse - a number with 80 figures - by using a special calculus, but\nthis number is valid only on the supposition that the particles cannot\nbe counted because they are indistinguishable!9\n\nHowever correct the nominalistic conception of number may be in such a\ncase as that of numbering the five apples, it is wholly incorrect to\nrestrict the concept of number itself to one valid for this kind of\noccurrence. We shall see this immediately if we take one of the apples\nand cut it across. There we find the number five confronting us in the\nwell-known star-like figure, represented by the fivefold pericarp in\nthe centre of the apple. What man, restricted as he was to the mode of\nunderstanding, has completely overlooked is this: although the act of\ncounting, by which we establish the number five, is the same in both\ncases, the quality of the number five is totally different. For in the\ncase of the five pericarps this number is a quality immanent in the\napple, which it shares with the whole species of Rosaceae. The apple\nitself is just as much 'five' as it is 'round', 'sweet', etc. In the\nsupersensible type which creates in the plant its own organ of\nmanifestation, the creation of a number - in the apple the number five\n- is part of the form-creating activities characteristic of the type.\nThe numerical relationships which appear between natural phenomena\ndepend upon the way in which the chemical ether participates. This is\ntrue equally of those discovered by chemistry in the sphere of\ninorganic matter and used to-day with such great success.\n\nLet us be quite clear that the relationship of unity to plurality in\nthe case of the five apples is totally different from what it is in the\nfivefold pericarp. In the first case unity is the smallest quantity\nrepresented by each of the five apples. There, the step from one to two\nis made by joining together two units from outside. The path from one\nto many is by way of continuous addition. In the second case the unity\nis represented by the pericarp - i.e. by the one comprising the many,\nthe latter appearing as parts of the whole. In such a case two is part\nof one and so are three, four, five, etc. Plurality arises from a\ncontinuous process of division of unity.\n\nThe ancient world knew the idea of number only in the last-mentioned\nform. There unity appeared as an all-embracing magnitude, revealed\nthrough the Universe. The world's manifoldness was felt to be not a\njuxtaposition of single things, externally connected, but the content\nof this unity, and therefore derived from it. This was expressed by the\npre-Socratic Greek philosophers in the formula \u00ce\u00ad\u00ce\u00bd \u00ce\u00ba\u00ce\u00b1\u00ce\u00b9 \u00cf\u0080\u00ce\u00b1\u00ce\u00bd (the One and the All).\n\nWith the appearance of the Arabs on the scene of history, human thought\nturned to the additive concept of number, and the original distributive\nconcept receded gradually into oblivion. The acceptance of the new\nconcept made it possible for the first time to conceive the zero. It is\nclear that by a continuous division of unity one is carried to a\nconstantly growing number of constantly diminishing parts, but without\never reaching the nothing represented by the number zero. To-day we\nshould say that in this way we can reach zero only by an infinite\nseries of steps. Yet the idea of the infinite did not exist in this\nform for ancient man. On the other hand, in the arabic conception of\nnumber the steps necessary to reach zero are finite. For just as by the\nexternal addition of unities we can step forward from one number to the\nnext, so we can also step back on the same path by repeated\nsubtractions of unities. Having thus reached One, nothing can stop us\nfrom going beyond it by one more such step. The arabic numeral system,\ntherefore, is the only one to possess its own symbol for zero.\n\nIt has been correctly noted that the penetration into European thought\nof this additive concept of number was responsible for developing the\nidea of the machine; for it accustomed human beings to think calmly of\nzero as a quantity existing side by side with the others. In ancient\nman the idea of nothingness, the absolute void, created fear; he judged\nnature's relation to the void accordingly, as the phrase 'natura\nabhorret vacuum' indicates. His capacity to think fearlessly of this\nvacuum and to handle it thus had to be developed in order to bring\nabout the Machine Age, and particularly the development of efficient\nsteam engines. Consider also the decisive part played by the vacuum in\nCrookes's researches, through which the path to the sub-physical realm\nof nature was laid open.\n\nYet nature makes use of number as a regulating factor in quite a\ndifferent way from its appearance in the purely electrical and\ngravitational connexions of inorganic matter, namely where sound-ether\nfrom the upper boundary of nature so regulates nature's dynamic that\nthe manifold sense-qualities appear in their time-and-space order. When\nwe interpret the arrangement of numbers found there on a nominalistic\nbasis, as is done when the axis- and angle-relationships of crystals\nare reduced to a mere propinquity of the atoms distributed like a grid\nin space, or when the difference in angle of the position of the\nvarious colours in the spectrum is reduced to mere differences in\nfrequency of the electromagnetic oscillations in a hypothetical ether -\nthen we bar the way to the comprehension not only of number itself, as\na quality among qualities, but also of all other qualities in nature.\n\n*\n\n(e) LIFE\n\nAs already mentioned, the three kinds of ether, warmth, light and\nsound, are not sufficient in themselves to bring into existence what in\nits proper sense we call 'life' in nature, i.e. the formation of single\nliving organisms. This requires the action of a fourth kind of ether,\nthe life-ether, ranged above the other three. We can best comprehend\nthe life-ether's contribution to the total activity of the ether in\nnature by considering the interaction of the four kinds of ether with\nthe four physical elements.\n\n\n\nWe have seen that the warmth-ether has the double function of being at\nonce the lowest ether and the highest physical element, thus acting as\na sphere of reflexion for the other kinds of ether and the elements\nrespectively. Each stage in the etheric has its reflexion in the\nphysical, as the above table shows. Thus to the physical air the\netheric light is related. (The affinity of light and air is best seen\nin the plant and its leaf-formation.) To bring about real changes in\nthe material composition of the physical world requires the stronger\npowers of the chemical ether. Therefore it is also the first ether of\nwhich we had to speak as 'magical' ether. Its effects reach into the\nwatery element which is already bound up with gravity, but by its own\nstrength it cannot penetrate beyond that. The causation of material\nchanges in the liquid sphere would in fact be all that these three\nkinds of ether could achieve together.\n\nOnly when the power of the life-ether is added to the three others can\netheric action reach as far as the sphere of solid matter. Thus the\nlife-ether is responsible for all solid formation in nature, both in\nher organic and inorganic fields (the latter-crystal-formation-being\nthe effect of external ether-action).10 It is to the action of the\nlife-ether that nature owes the existence in her different realms of\nmultitudes of separate solid forms. To mention an instance from our\nprevious studies: in the same way as volcanic phenomena manifest the\nwarmth-ether's gravity-overcoming power on a macrotelluric scale, so\nsnow-formation illustrates the life-ether's matter-shaping might.\n\nThrough its power to bind flowing action into solid form, the\nlife-ether is related to the sound-ether in the same way as the\narticulated word formed by human speaking is related to the mere\nmusical tone. The latter by itself is as it were fluid. In human speech\nthis fluidity is represented by the vowels. With a language consisting\nonly of vowels man would be able to express feelings, but not thoughts.\nTo let the word as carrier of thought arise out of sound, human speech\npossesses the consonants, which represent the solid element in it.\n\nThe emergence of the sense-bearing word from the merely ringing sound\nis an exact counterpart to what takes place in nature when the play of\norganic liquids, regulated by the chemical ether, is caused by the\nlife-ether to solidify into outwardly perceptible form. By reading in\nthis way the special function of the life-ether among the other three,\nwe are led to the term ' Word-ether' as an appropriate second name for\nit, corresponding to the term sound-ether for the chemical ether.\n\n*\n\nThus Levity presents itself to us as being engaged in the fourfold\nactivity of Chaoticizing, Weaving, Sounding and, lastly, Speaking the\nform-creative Cosmic Word into the realm of Gravity.\n\n1 To avoid misunderstandings, it should be emphasized that spiritual\nImagination is not attained by any exercise involving directly the\nsense of sight and its organ, the eye, but by purely mental exercises\ndesigned to increase the 'seeing' faculty of the mind.\n\n2 Indeed, it is a misunderstanding of the whole meaning of\nAnthroposophy when its contents are quoted - as they sometimes are even\nby adherents - in such a way as to suggest that by their help a better\n'explanation' may be gained of matters for which there is otherwise no,\nor at least no satisfactory, explanation. The question: 'How does\nAnthroposophy explain this or that?' is quite wrongly put. We ought\nrather to ask: 'How does Anthroposophy help us to read more clearly\nthis or that otherwise enigmatical chapter of the script of existence?'\n\n3 See Space and the Light of Creation, by G. Adams, where this\n'weaving' is shown with the help of projective geometry.\n\n4 Translation by J. Darrell.\n\n5 We may recall here also the passage from Ruskin's The Queen of the\nAir, quoted earlier, p. 118).\n\n6 That the ether, apart from being supersensibly seen, is also heard,\nwas empirically known to Goethe. See the opening words of the 'Prologue\nin Heaven\" (Faust, I) and the call of the Spirit of the Elements in the\nfirst scene of the Second Part of the drama, which follow upon the\nstage direction: 'The sun announces his approach with overwhelming\nnoise.'\n\n7 By attending Chladni's lectures on his discovery in Paris the French\nphysicist Savart became acquainted with this phenomenon and devoted\nhimself to its study. Chladni and Savart together published a great\nnumber of these figures.\n\n8 Understanding the attributes of the chemical ether enables us to see\nin their right perspective Rudolf Steiner's suggestions to farmers for\nthe preparation of the soil and for keeping healthy the crops growing\non it. Attempts have been made to dismiss these suggestions by calling\nthem 'mysticism' and 'mediaeval magic'. Both terms are titles of honour\nif we understand by the one the form of insight into the supersensible\nrealm of nature acquired by the higher mode of reading, and by the\nother a faculty of nature herself, whose magic wand is the chemical or\nsound-ether.\n\n9 See Eddington's humorous and at the same time serious treatment of\nthis problem in his Philosophy of Physical Science.\n\n10 Of the difference between external and internal ether-action more\nwill be said in the concluding chapter.\n\n\nCHAPTER XX\n\nPro Anima\n\nThy functions are ethereal,\nAs if within thee dwelt a glancing mind,\nOrgan of vision! And a Spirit a\u00c3\u00abreal\nInforms the cell of Hearing, dark and blind.\nW. WORDSWORTH\n\n(a) THE WELL-SPRINGS OF NATURE'S DEEDS AND SUFFERINGS\n\nAs our observations have shown, gravity and levity not only exist side\nby side as a primary polarity; the manifold interaction of their fields\ngives rise to all sorts of secondary polarities. Obviously, this\ninteraction must be brought about by a further kind of force to which\ngravity and levity are subordinate.\n\nIn what follows we shall try, so far as is possible within the scope of\nthis book, to throw light on the nature of this force. Since the direct\nexperience of the dynamic realm constituted by it is based on faculties\nof the mind other than those needed for the Imaginative perception of\nthe etheric realm, we shall have to examine also the nature and origin\nof these faculties. This will lead us again to the study of one of\nman's higher senses, this time his sense of hearing, with the aim of\nfinding the spiritual function that is hidden in it. But our order of\nprocedure will have to differ from the one followed in the last\nchapter, because it will be necessary first to make ourselves\nacquainted with the nature of the new force and then to turn to an\nexamination of the sense-activity concerned.\n\n*\n\nLet our first object of observation be man himself in so far as he\nillustrates a polarity of the second order.\n\nWhen studying man's nature with the idea of understanding the genesis\nof his onlooker-consciousness, it will be remembered, we had to examine\nthe ordering of his consciousness into waking, dreaming and sleeping in\nthe different members of his organism. We recognized three different\norganic systems, the sensory-nerve system, the rhythmic system and the\nmetabolic-limb system, as the bodily foundation of three different soul\nactivities. These are the thought-forming activity which belongs to\nwaking consciousness; the feeling activity which belongs to dream\nconsciousness; and the willing activity which belongs to sleep\nconsciousness. We then saw in these three systems representatives of\nthe three alchemical functions - 'sulphurous' in the metabolic,\n'saline' in the nervous, 'mercurial' in the mediating rhythmic system.\n\nRegarded thus, man's nature reveals itself as being endowed with a\nphysical organization, and an etheric organization, which are brought\ninto different relationships by being acted upon by a third\norganization consisting of forces of the kind here to be studied. At\nhis lower pole these forces co-ordinate the ether and physical\norganizations in a manner corresponding to the function of the\n'sulphur'-pole of the alchemical triad. Here, therefore, the\nwarmth-ether takes the lead and acts in such a way that the higher\nkinds of ether are able to come to expression in material processes of\nthe body. At the upper pole corresponding forces co-ordinate the\nphysical and ether organizations in a way characteristic of the\n'salt'-pole. This gives the lead to the life-ether, so that the\nphysical organism provides the foundation for the activity of the\nether-forces without, however, being actually penetrated by them (at\nleast after completion of the embryonic and first post-embryonic\ndevelopment). As a result, consciousness lights up in this part of the\nbody. The rhythmic sphere, being the 'mercurial' middle, is\ndistinguished by an alternation of the two conditions described. With\neach diastole it becomes more akin to the pole below, and with each\nsystole more akin to the pole above. Here, therefore, the lighting up\nof consciousness is only partial.\n\nBy means of these observations we realize that the third type of force,\nin so far as it is active in man, has the capacity, by co-ordinating\nthe physical and etheric parts of the organism in one way or another,\nto promote happenings either of a more corporeal or a more psychical\nnature - namely, motion at one pole, sensation at the other, and\nfeeling in the middle between them.1 Remembering Goethe's formula,\n'colours are deeds and sufferings of light', we realize how deeply true\nthe concepts were to which he was led by his way of developing\nobservation and thought.\n\nWhat we have now brought to our awareness by studying man, holds good\nin some sense also for the animal. The animal, too, is polarized into\nmotion and sensation. (What makes the animal differ from man need not\nconcern us here, for it belongs to a dynamic realm other than the one\nwe are now studying. This other realm will come under consideration in\nthe next chapter.) Quite a different picture arises when we turn to the\nplant. The plant, too, is characterized by a threefold structure, root,\nstem with leaves, and florescence, which in their way represent the\nthree alchemical functions. Consequently, there is also motion in the\nplant, although this is confined to internal movements leading to\ngrowth and formation. And at the opposite pole there is sensation,\nthough again very different from the sensation experienced by higher\nliving beings. What we mean here by 'sensation' can be best expressed\nby quoting the following passage from Ruskin's The Queen of the Air, in\nwhich the dual activity of the dynamic which we seek to understand is\nbrought out particularly clearly.\n\nIn describing the forming of blossom in the plant as the climax of the\n'spirit' active in it, Ruskin says: 'Its (the plant's) form becomes\ninvested with aspects that are chiefly delightful to our own human\npassions; namely, first, with the loveliest outlines of shape and,\nsecondly, with the most brilliant phases of the primary colours, blue,\nyellow, red or white, the unison of all; and to make it more strange,\nthis time of peculiar and perfect glory is associated with relations of\nthe plants or blossoms to each other, correspondent to the joy of love\nin human creatures and having the same object in the continuance of the\nrace.'2\n\nIf we wish to understand why the same dynamic action working on the\nphysical and etheric organisms of the plant, on the one hand, and of\nman and the animal, on the other, brings about effects so different, we\nmust turn to the realm whence this action originates in both cases. For\nthe animal and for man this realm is situated within their organisms\nbecause in addition to their individual physical and etheric\norganizations they are endowed also with an individual organization of\nthe higher kind. Not so with the plant. For the rhythms of its growth,\nthe successive formation of its various organs, the production of its\ncolours, etc., the plant depends on outer conditions.\n\nWhat strikes us first in this respect is the plant's dependence on the\nsuccession of the seasons. These in turn are an outcome of the changing\nmutual positions of earth and sun. That which forms part of the\nindividual organism in higher living beings is located in the cosmic\nsurroundings of the plant. In fact, it is our planetary system which\nprovides the forces that stir the etheric and physical forces of the\nearth to their various interactions, thus bringing about all the\nmanifold secondary polarities.\n\n*\n\nBefore we embark on a description of further phenomena which testify to\nthe cosmic nature of the forces with which we are here concerned, it\nwill be well (following a principle applied before) to establish the\nhistorical antecedents of the conception of the universe we are about\nto develop.\n\nWe realize that the type of force with which we are here seeking to\nbecome familiar is the one responsible for the existence of what we\ncommonly call 'soul'. The creation of a body-bound soul, however, is\nonly one particular form of the activity of these forces. Another is\nthe one which we have just seen manifest in the plant. In yet another\nway the same forces function as movers and stirrers of the\nmacro-telluric processes of the earth, and beyond this of the\nhappenings in the body of our planetary system, including the movements\nof the various planets.\n\nThis is an aspect which was by no means unfamiliar to ancient man. It\nwas naturally lost when the onlooker-consciousness awoke. In this\nrespect it is of historical significance that the same man, G. A.\nBorelli (1608-79), a member of the Florentine Academy, who was the\nfirst to inquire into the movements of the animal and human body from a\npurely mechanical point of view, made the first attempt to deduce the\nplanetary movements from a purely physical cause.3 Through this fact an\nimpulse comes to expression which we may term Contra Animam, and\nagainst which we have to put our Pro Anima, in much the same way that\nwe put our Pro Levitate against the Contra Levitatem call of the\nFlorentine Academicians.\n\n*\n\nIt will help our further descriptions if we introduce at this point the\nname which Rudolf Steiner adopted for the type of forces we are\nconcerned with here. In view of the fact that their origin lies in the\nextra-terrestrial realm of the universe, he called them 'astral'\nforces, thereby giving back to this term, also, its true and original\nmeaning. It is under this name that we shall speak of them henceforth.\nTo make ourselves more familiar with the character of the astral\nforces, it will be well to observe them first of all in their\nmacrotelluric form of activity.\n\nThere is, as already mentioned, the rhythmic occurrence of the seasons\nin connexion with the varying relative positions of earth and sun.\nAlongside this we may put the rhythm of the tides, coincident with the\nphases of the moon. Just as the solar rhythm manifests in an\nalternating rise and fall of the saps in the plants, so also does the\nlunar rhythm.4 (Note how this fact actually vitiates the usual\nexplanation that the tidal rhythm of the sea is caused by a\ngravitational pull exerted by the moon's body on the oceanic water.) In\nneither instance is the change of position of the relevant cosmic body\n- in our examples that of the sun or moon in relation to the earth -\nthe 'cause' of the corresponding rhythmic events on the earth. Together\nwith all other rhythmic events of equal periodicity, it is itself the\neffect of the activity of a force-sphere constituting the cosmic realm\nto which the relevant planetary body belongs.\n\nFrom this statement three major questions arise, which need to be\nanswered before we can carry on our description of the astral forces\nthemselves:\n\nFirstly, by the way we have spoken of the varying relations of the sun\nand moon to the earth, seeing in them the effects of certain astral\nactivities, we have treated them as if they were of like nature,\nnamely, resulting from a movement of the relevant heavenly body round\nthe earth. According to the Copernican conception, however, only the\nmoon rotates round the earth, whereas the apparent yearly progression\nof the sun is actually caused by the earth's motion round the sun. This\nraises the question of how far the Copernican, heliocentric aspect is\nvalid in a science which strives to embrace the astral realm of the\nuniverse in its inquiries.\n\nSecondly, what roles do the other members of our planetary system play\nas compared with those of the sun and the moon?\n\nThirdly, if it is true that the essential solar and lunar effects - and\npresumably the effects of the other planets - on the earth do not\nspring from physical influence exerted by the visible bodies of the\nplanets concerned, but from certain astral force-fields of which these\nbodies themselves form part, what is the significance of such a body\nwithin the planet's dynamic whole?\n\nStarting with the answer to the first question, we shall quote the\nfollowing passage from a lecture on theoretical physics given by\nProfessor Planck in 1909 at the Columbia University, New York:\n\n'Only the hypothesis of the general value of the principle of\nRelativity in mechanics could admit the Copernican system into physics,\nsince this principle guarantees the independence of all processes on\nthe earth from the progressive motion of the earth. For, if we had to\nmake allowance for this motion, then I should, for instance, have to\nreckon with the fact that the piece of chalk in my hand possesses the\nenormous kinetic energy corresponding to a velocity of about 30\nkm/sec.'\n\nThe implications for us of these remarks by an eminent physicist can be\nexpressed as follows:\n\nIn a science which knows how to deal with movement as an event of\nabsolute dynamic reality, the Copernican aspect loses its significance\nas the only valid aspect of our cosmic system. For its application as a\nmeans of describing the dynamic happenings within this system\npresupposes the acceptance of Einstein's relativistic conception of\nmotion. Indeed, for the building up of a picture of the dynamic\nstructure of our system, the Copernican view-point is inadequate.\n\nThis statement must not be taken to deny all justification to the\nheliocentric view-point. There is, after all, the fact that the orbits\nwhich the heavenly bodies appear to follow when viewed in this way,\nassume a particular geometrical character which cannot be accidental.\nAnd more than that, when the heliocentric aspect is seen in its true\nsetting, it forms (as will be shown later) an extremely revealing part\nof the script which tells us of the nature of the astral forces. All\nthat is required is that the heliocentric picture be taken for what it\nis, namely, a purely kinematic aspect of the true dynamic ordering of\nour cosmic system, which in itself calls for quite other means of\nconceptual representation.\n\nFrom the point of view of the astral order of the universe, the earth\nappears in the centre of a number of force-fields which penetrate each\nother and in their peripheral region extend beyond one another in\naccordance with the respective orbits of the various planetary bodies.\nHow many force-fields there are, and what is the respective character\nof each, will become clear from the following consideration, which will\nalso provide the answer to the second of our three questions.\n\nAs the originator of the secondary polarities in earthly nature the\nastral realm must undoubtedly itself be structured polarically, one\npart of it forming the cause of all the happenings by which levity is\nbrought into interaction with gravity, the other of all the happenings\nby which gravity is brought into interaction with levity. There must be\na further part which is responsible for the establishment of the\n'mercurial' mean between the two poles of the secondary polarity. This\nleads us to a threefold aspect of the astral realm.\n\nCloser inspection reveals a repetition of this threefold order within\neach of the two polar regions. In Chapter XII we learnt to distinguish\nthe material happenings at the two poles of the secondary polarity by\nobserving their appearance in the plant as 'sublimation', on the one\nhand, and 'assimilation' on the other. Of the former process, by which\nmatter is carried from its gravity-bound to its gravity-free condition,\nwe know that it takes place in three stages, of which the first implies\nthe lifting of matter from the solid to the liquid condition, the\nsecond from the liquid to the aeriform condition, and the third to the\ncondition of pure heat. There are three corresponding stages by which\nether becomes susceptible to gravity. It is in their nature that they\nare not in the same degree manifest as are their polar opposites.\nStill, properly guided observation is able to detect them and enables\nus to describe them as follows. At the first stage, ether, which in\nitself has a purely peripheral orientation, becomes linked to some\nall-relating point; at the second stage, the various ether-activities,\nalready point-related, are brought into some characteristic\ninterrelationship so as to become the cause of a particular formative\naction in the material realm; at the third stage, the etheric aggregate\nthus organized receives the impulse to link itself with some particular\nportion of ponderable matter.\n\nIn these six forms of astral activity, observation, if guided by modern\nspiritual science, recognizes the characteristics of the six planetary\nspheres, known as 'Moon', 'Mercury', 'Venus', on the one hand,\n'Saturn', 'Jupiter', 'Mars', on the other. In the same way the dynamic\nsphere of the 'Sun' is found to provide the astral activity which\nmediates between the two groups of planetary spheres.5 The following\nobservations may help us to become familiar with the different modes of\nactivity of the force-spheres.\n\nLet us start with the astral forces corresponding to the three cosmic\nbodies nearest to the earth - Moon, Mercury, Venus. Their activity can\nbe discerned, for example, by watching the successive stages of plant\ndevelopment - the formation of the sap-bearing parts; the\nflower-substance already partly transformed into aeriform condition;\nfinally the propagating processes which belong essentially to the\nsphere of activity of the warmth-ether.6 In the human organism we find\nthe same sequence in the step-by-step transformation of nutriment right\nup to the moment when earthly form passes into chaos, as we learnt\npreviously. The so-called enzyme action, ascribed by physiology to the\nvarious digestive juices, is in reality the product of an activity of\nthe lower part of man's astral organization, for which the relevant\njuices exercise the function of physical 'carriers'. In the field of\nmacrotelluric phenomena, the metamorphosis of the atmospheric moisture\nextending beyond the different cloud-stages up to the stage of pure\nwarmth is an example of the activity of the same forces.\n\nWithin all three-stage transitions of this kind, the astral forces\nconnected with the Moon preponderate during the first stage, those\nconnected with Mercury during the second, those connected with Venus\nduring the third. We have already come across some examples of the\noutstanding share taken by the Moon in the events of the earth's watery\nsphere. To these phenomena, which show by their rhythm their connexion\nwith the Moon, we may add the fertility rhythm in the female human\norganism which coincides, not in phase but in duration, with the rhythm\nset by the Moon's course in the heavens. If we consider that the\nformation of a new human body in the womb needs the play of formative\nforces from out of the whole world environment, and that for this\npurpose matter must be brought into a receptive condition for these\nforces, then we can better understand the preparatory part played by\nthe Moon-forces. In order, however, that the substance of the female\ngerm should reach that condition of chaos suitable for embryonic\ndevelopment, there is still necessary the influence of the supra-lunar\nastral forces. Entry for these is provided by the union of the\ngerm-cell with the male sperm-cell.7\n\nAs the three sub-solar planetary spheres are responsible for events of\na 'sulphurous' (radial) character, so are the three supra-solar spheres\nresponsible for those of a 'saline' (spherical) character. For example,\nwe meet with Saturn-activity in everything which radiates from the\nhuman head and brings about the hardening both of the head itself and\nof the entire skeleton. Observation has shown that, even if the human\nbeing, as usually happens, stops growing in the early twenties, so that\nthe skeleton undergoes no further lengthening, it nevertheless reaches\nits final shape and its final hardening only between the twenty-eighth\nand thirtieth years. This is the time in man's life when Saturn returns\nfor the first time to the position in which it stood relatively to the\nearth at his birth, or, more correctly, at his conception.\n\nIf the activity of the Saturn-force is most clearly manifest in the\nformation of the hard skull, that of Jupiter, the planet of 'Wisdom',\nis shown in the formation of the complicated structure of the brain,\nwhich enables it to co-ordinate the bodily and psychic functions of the\nentire man. In the realm of physical nature, man's brain is indeed the\nmost perfect example of cosmic Intelligence at work in a manner\nresembling that activity of human intelligence which one usually\nunderstands by 'organizing'.\n\nIn order that Form should come about, the forces of Saturn are\nrequired; for the formative process to take place in Wisdom-filled\norder, Jupiter's forces are necessary. If form and order are to become\nmanifest in the realm of earthly substance, both require the assistance\nof Mars. We can best form an idea of the part which Mars contributes to\nthe coming into being of the world of Form in nature if we observe what\ntakes place when we make use of speech as a medium for expressing our\nthoughts. In order to be able to shape a thought we have to participate\nin the formative force of Saturn. We depend upon Jupiter to bring about\nlogical connexion between the single thoughts. To announce them to the\nworld, we need the motive force of Mars, which enables us so to set\nexternal matter in motion that it becomes a carrier and relayer of our\nthoughts. (We here touch upon the field of the acoustic movements of\nthe air which will occupy us more closely later on.)\n\nMany examples of the activity of the force-spheres represented by the\nthree exterior planets are to be found also in nature external to man.\nFrom the realm of plant life we may take the woody and bark-like\nformation of the trees as representing the operation of Saturn-forces.\nSimilarly, all that goes on in the organizing of the single leaf, and\nparticularly in the organization of the countless separate leaves which\nmake up the foliage of a tree into a unified whole, the characteristic\ncrown of a tree, is an example of the work of Jupiter. Both activities\nare assisted by the force of Mars, which directs them from the cosmic\nperiphery toward the single physical object.\n\nBetween the two groups of astral force operating in this manner, the\nSun acts as a mediating element through its double function of\nsupporting the activity of the three lower planets by means of its heat\nand of conveying to the earth, through its light, the forces of the\nthree higher planets. In the human microcosm the Sun-forces accomplish\na corresponding task by means of the influences which radiate from the\nheart through the body along the paths taken by the blood.\n\n*\n\nIn what follows we shall point to a group of phenomena which show the\nastral interconnexion between earth and universe; we owe our knowledge\nof them to Rudolf Steiner. It is due to him, also, that experimental\nresearch into the relevant facts became possible. They concern the\nreflexion of the various planetary movements, observable in the sky, in\nthe behaviour of certain mineral substances of the earth.\n\nIn connexion with our discussion of electricity (Chapter XIII) we spoke\nof the special function of the metals as bearers of the 'mercurial'\nquality (in the alchemical sense of the term). As one of the\ncharacteristics which reveal this function we mentioned the peculiar\ncapacity of metals to behave as 'solid fluids'. This exceptional place\namong the mineral substances of the earth, the metals owe to their\nclose association with the extra-terrestrial astral forces of the\nworld. In this field, too, modern spiritual investigation has recovered\nsomething which was known to people of old - that among the metals\nthere are seven which have a distinctive character, for each stands in\na special relation to one of the seven planets (that is, the planetary\nforce-spheres) of our cosmic system. This is shown in the following\ntable:\n\nSaturn\tLead\nJupiter\tTin\nMars\tIron\nSun\tGold\nVenus\tCopper\nMercury\tQuicksilver\nMoon\tSilver\n\nAs compared with these seven, the other metals are products of\ncombinations of various planetary forces. A comparison of the role of\nSaturn as the outermost planet of our cosmic system with the role\nplayed by its metal, lead, as a final product of radioactive\ndisintegration, leads one to conceive of the radioactive sphere of the\nearth as being related especially to the planets outside the orbit of\nSaturn, namely, Uranus, Neptune, Pluto.\n\nThanks to the work of L. Kolisko who, in following Rudolf Steiner's\nindications, observed for many years the behaviour of the seven metals\nsingly and in combination by submitting their salts to certain\ncapillary effects, we know to-day that the\" earth bears in her womb\nsubstances whose dynamic condition follows exactly the events in the\nplanetary realm of the universe.8\n\n*\n\nThe picture of the universe which has thus arisen before our mind's eye\nis a startling one only so long as we keep comparing it with its\nheliocentric predecessor. How wrong it would be to regard it as\nsomething inconceivable for the modern mind, is shown by the fact that\nthe modern physiologist has already been driven to form quite a similar\npicture of the human organism, as far as it concerns glandular action\nin this organism. His observations have taught him to distinguish\nbetween the gland as a spatially limited physical organ and the gland\nas a functional sphere, and to conceive of the latter as the essential\ngland. Seen thus, 'the spatial and temporal dimensions of each gland\nare equal to those of the entire organism' (A. Carrel). In this way we\ncome to see the human organism as a realm of interpenetrating spheres\nof distinctive physiological activities. Each of these activities is\nanchored somewhere in the physical body by the anatomically discernible\ngland-body, and the latter's relationship to the functional sphere is\nsuch that a gland's 'physiological individuality is far more\ncomprehensive than its anatomical individuality'.\n\nWe need only translate this statement into its macrocosmic counterpart\nto obtain another statement which expresses fittingly the relationship\nof the visible body of a planet to the functional (astral) sphere\nindicated by its orbit. Then we shall say that 'a planet's astral\nindividuality is far more comprehensive than its astronomical\nindividuality'.\n\nIt should be observed that the step we have here taken, by using a\nconception obtained through microcosmic observation to help us to find\nthe answer to a question put to us by the macrocosm, complies with one\nof the fundamentals of our method of research, namely, to allow 'the\nheavens to explain the earth, and the earth the heavens' (R. St.).\n\n* *\n *\n(b) HEARING AS DEED\n\nIn the introductory part of the last chapter we said that we have the\nright to employ results of investigation carried out by higher\nfaculties of spiritual perception without contradicting our principle\nof seeking to understand the phenomenal world by reading it, provided\nour doing so helps to enhance our own reading activity, and provided it\ncan be shown that the acquisition of the higher faculties of perception\nis a direct continuation of the training we have to apply to our mind\nand senses to make them capable of such reading. As regards the forces\nof astral character, the first of these two conditions has been\nfulfilled by the observations we have already worked through in this\nchapter. We have still to show that the second condition is equally\nfulfilled.\n\nThe faculty of the mind which permits direct investigation of the\nastral realm was called (spiritual) Inspiration by Rudolf Steiner, who\nthereby restored to this term, also, its proper meaning. We have\nalready indicated that this faculty resides in the sense of hearing in\nthe same way that the faculty of Imagination - as we have found -\nresides in the sense of seeing. In order to understand why it is this\nparticular sense which comes into consideration here, we have to\nconsider that the phenomena through which the astral world manifests\nmost directly are all of a rhythmic nature. Now, the sense through\nwhich our soul penetrates with direct experience into some outer\nrhythmic activity is the sense of hearing, our aural perceptions being\nconveyed by certain rhythmic movements of the air. In what follows we\nshall see how the study of both the outer acoustic phenomena and our\nown psycho-physical make-up in the region of the acoustic sense, leads\nto an understanding of the nature of Inspiration and of how it can be\ntrained.\n\n*\n\nAmong all our sense-perceptions, sound is unique in making itself\nperceptible in two quite different ways - via the ear as a direct sense\nexperience and via the eye (potentially also via the senses of touch\nand movement) in the form of certain mechanical movements, such as\nthose of a string or a tuning fork. Hence the world-spectator, as soon\nas he began to investigate acoustic phenomena scientifically, found\nhimself in a unique position. In all other fields of perception, with\nthe exception of the purely mechanical processes, the transition to\nnon-stereoscopic colourless observation had the effect that the\nworld-content of the naive consciousness simply ceased to exist,\nleaving the ensuing hiatus to be filled in by a pattern of imagined\nkinematic happenings - for example, colour by 'ether'-vibrations, heat\nby molecular movements. Not so in the sphere of acoustics. For here a\npart of the entire event, on account of its genuine kinetic character,\nremains a content of actual observation.\n\nIn consequence, the science of acoustics became for the scientific mind\nof man a model of the required division between the 'subjective' (that\nis, for scientific considerations non-existent) and the 'objective'\n(that is, the purely kinematic) part of observation. The field of aural\nperception seemed to justify the procedure of collecting a mass of\nphenomena, stripped of all that is experienced by man's soul in meeting\nthem, and of assembling them under a purely abstract concept, 'sound'.\n\nProfessor Heisenberg, in his lecture (quoted at the beginning of\nChapter II) on the way in which the scientific interrogation of nature\nhas deliberately limited itself, draws attention to the fact that a\nfull knowledge of the science of optics in its present form might be\nacquired merely through theoretical study by one born blind, yet\nwithout his ever getting to know what light is. Heisenberg could, of\ncourse, have said the same of the science of acoustics in regard to one\nborn deaf. But we can go a step further by asking how far a deaf and a\nblind person could get towards establishing the respective science. The\nanswer must be that, whereas the person lacking sight would not of\nhimself be in a position to establish a science of optics, it would be\nwell within the scope of the deaf man to establish a science of\nacoustics. For all the processes essential to a physical acoustics are\naccessible to the eye and other senses.\n\nIn order to make our experience of hearing a finger-post pointing the\nway to an understanding of the faculty of Inspiration innate in man, we\nmust first of all seek to transform acoustics from a 'deaf into a\n'hearing' science, just as Goethe turned the theory of colour from a\ncolour-blind into a colour-seeing science.\n\n*\n\nFollowing our procedure in the case of optics, we select from the total\nfield of acoustic phenomena a defined realm specially suited to our\npurpose. As it was then the spectrum, so it will be now the so-called\nquality of sound, or tone-colour.\n\nBy this term in acoustics is understood a property possessed by sound\napart from pitch and volume, and dependent on the nature of the source\nfrom which a tone is derived. It is the tone-colour by which the tone\nof a violin, for instance, is distinguished from a tone of equal\nintensity and pitch produced by a flute. Similarly, two musical\ninstruments of the same kind are distinguished from each other by\ntone-colour.\n\nTone-colour plays a specially significant part in human and animal\nvoices. Not only has each individual voice its unique colour, but the\ncolour varies in one and the same person or animal, according to the\nprevailing mood. Moreover, by uttering the various vowels of his\nlanguage, man is able to impart varying colour to the sounds of his\nspeech. For the difference we experience when a tone is sung on the\nvowel 'a' or the vowel 'e', etc., derives from the particular colour\ngiven by the vowel to that tone.\n\nAmong the discoveries of the last century in the realm of acoustics,\nthere is one which especially helped to establish a purely kinematic\nconception of sound. Helmholtz showed that tones which to our ears seem\nto have a clear and definite pitch may be split up by a series of\nresonators into a number of different tones, each of them sounding at a\ndifferent pitch. The lowest of these has the pitch which our ears\nattach to the entire tone. Thus in any ordinary tone there may be\ndistinguished a 'fundamental' tone and a series of 'overtones'.\nHelmholtz further showed that the particular series of overtones into\nwhich a tone can be resolved is responsible for the colour of that tone\nas a whole. Naturally, this meant for the prevailing mode of thinking\nthat the experience of the colour of a tone had to be interpreted as\nthe effect of a kind of acoustical adding together of a number of\nsingle tone perceptions (very much as Newton had interpreted 'white'\nlight as the outcome of an optical adding together of a certain number\nof single colour perceptions).\n\nThe picture becomes different if we apply to the aural experience\nGoethe's theorem that, in so far as we are deluded, it is not by our\nsenses but by our own reasoning. For we then realize that sounds never\noccur of themselves without some tone-colour, whilst physically 'pure'\ntones - those that represent simple harmonic motions - exist only as an\nartificial laboratory product. The colour of a tone, therefore, is an\nintegral part of it, and must not be conceived of as an additional\nattribute resulting from a summing up of a number of colourless tone\nexperiences.\n\nFurther, if we compare our experiences of the two kinds of tone, they\ntell us that through the quality or colour of the natural tone\nsomething of a soul-nature, pleasant or unpleasant, speaks to us,\nwhereas 'pure' tones have a soulless character.\n\nResolving normal tones by Helmholtz's method (useful as it is for\ncertain purposes) amounts to something like dissecting a living,\nensouled organism into its members; only the parts of the corpse\n\nremain in our hands.\n\n*\n\nHaving thus established that the psychic content of aural experience\nforms an integral part of the tone-phenomenon as such, we must seek to\nunderstand how the kinetic process which is indispensable for its\nappearance comes to be the vehicle for the manifestation of 'soul' in\nthe manner described.\n\nTo this end we must first of all heed the fact that the movement which\nmediates aural sensation is one of alternating expansion and\ncontraction. Expressed in the language of the four Elements, this means\nthat the air thus set in vibration approaches alternately the condition\nof the watery element beneath it and of the element of fire (heat)\nabove it. Thus, in a regular rhythm, the air comes near the border of\nits ponderable existence. Purely physical considerations make us\nrealize that this entails another rhythmic occurrence in the realm of\nheat. For with each expansion of the air heat is absorbed by it and\nthereby rendered space-bound, while with every contraction of the air\nheat is set free and returns to its indigenous condition - that is, it\nbecomes free from spatial limitations.\n\nThis picture of the complete happenings during an acoustic event\nenables us to understand how such a process can be the vehicle for\nconveying certain astral impulses in such a way that, when met by them,\nwe grow aware of them in the form of a direct sensation. Taking as a\nmodel the expression 'transparent' for the perviousness of a substance\nto light, we may say that the air, when in a state of acoustic\nvibration, becomes 'trans-audient' for astral impulses, and that the\nnature of these vibrations determines which particular impulses are let\nthrough.\n\nWhat we have here found to be the true role of the kinetic part of the\nacoustic process applies equally to sounds which are emitted by living\nbeings, and to those that arise when lifeless material is set\nmechanically in motion, as in the case of ordinary noises or the\nmusical production of tone. There is only this difference: in the first\ninstance the vibrations of the sound-producing organs have their origin\nin the activity of the astral part of the living being, and it is this\nactivity which comes to the recipient's direct experience in the form\nof aural impressions; in the second instance the air, by being brought\nexternally into a state of vibration, exerts a kind of suction on the\nastral realm which pervades the air, with the result that parts of this\nrealm become physically audible. For we are constantly surrounded by\nsupersensible sounds, and the state of motion of the air determines\nwhich of them become perceptible to us in our present state of\nconsciousness.\n\nAt this point our mind turns to a happening in the macrotelluric sphere\nof the earth, already considered in another connexion, which now\nassumes the significance of an ur-phenomenon revealing the astral\ngeneration of sound. This is the thunder-storm, constituted for our\nexternal perception by the two events: lightning and thunder.\n\nRemembering what we have found earlier (Chapter X) to be the nature of\nlightning, we are now in a position to say: a supraterrestrial astral\nimpulse obtains control of the earth's etheric and physical spheres of\nforce in such a way that etheric substance is thrown into the condition\nof space-bound physical matter. This substance is converted by stages\nfrom the state of light and heat via that of air into the liquid and,\nin certain cases, into the solid state (hail). To this we now add that,\nwhile in lightning the first effect of the etheric-physical\ninterference of the astral impulse appears before our eyes, our ears\ngive us direct awareness of this impulse in the form of thunder. It is\nthis fact which accounts for the awe-inspiring character of\nthunderstorms.\n\n*\n\nThe picture we have thus received of the outer part of the acoustic\nprocess has a counterpart in the processes inside the organ of hearing.\nHearing, like seeing, depends upon the co-operation of both poles of\nthe human organism-nerve and blood. In the case of hearing, however,\nthey play a reversed role. In the eye, the primary effect of\nlight-impressions is on the nervous part; a secondary response to them\ncomes from the blood organization. In the ear, the receptive organ for\nthe astral impulses pressing in upon it is a part which belongs to the\nbody's limb system, while it is the nervous organization which\nfunctions as the organ of response. For in the ear the sound-waves are\nfirst of all taken over by the so-called ossicles, three small bones in\nthe middle ear which, when examined with the Goethean eye, appear to be\na complete metamorphosis of ah arm or a leg. They are instrumental in\ntransferring the outer acoustic movements to the fluid contained in the\ninner ear, whence these are communicated to the entire fluid system of\nthe body and lastly to the muscular system.9 We shall speak of this in\ndetail later on. Let it be stated here that the peculiar role played by\nthe larynx in hearing, already referred to by us in Chapter XVI, is one\nof the symptoms which tells of the participation of the muscular system\nin the internal acoustic process.\n\nPsychologically, the difference between ear and eye is that aural\nperceptions work much more directly on the human will - that is, on the\npart of our astral organization connected with the limb system. Whereas\neye-impressions stimulate us in the first place to think,\near-impressions stimulate us to ... dance. The whole art of dancing,\nfrom its original sacred character up to its degenerate modern forms,\nis based upon the limb system being the recipient of acoustic\nimpressions.\n\nIn order to understand how the muscles respond to the outer astral\nimpulses which reach us through our ear, we must first understand what\nhappens in the muscles when our will makes use of them for bodily\nmotion. In this case, too, the muscular system is the organ through\nwhich certain astral impulses, this time arising out of the body's own\nastral member, come to expression. Moreover, the movement of the\nmuscles, though not outwardly perceptible, is quite similar to acoustic\nmovements outside the body. For whenever a muscle is caused to alter\nits length, it will perform some kind of vibration - a vibration\ncharacterized even by a definite pitch, which differs in different\npeople. Since throughout life our body is never entirely without\nmovement, we are thus in a constant state of inward sounding. The\nmuscular system is capable of this vibration because during the body's\ninitial period of growth the bones increase in length to a much greater\nextent than do the sinews and muscles. Hence the latter arrive at a\ncondition of elastic tension not unlike that of the strings of a\nmusical instrument.10\n\nIn the case of bodily movement, therefore, the muscles are\ntone-producers, whereas in acoustic perceptions they are\ntone-receivers. What, then, is it that prevents an acoustic perception\nfrom actually setting the limbs in motion, and, instead, enables our\nsentient being to take hold of the astral impulse invading our muscles?\n\nThis impediment comes from the contribution made by the nervous system\nto the auditory process. In order to understand the nature of this\ncontribution we must remember the role played by the blood in seeing.\nIt was found by us to consist in the bringing about of that state of\nequilibrium without which we should experience light merely as a\npain-producing agent. Similarly, the perception of sound requires the\npresence of a certain state of equilibrium between the nerve-system and\nthe limb-system. In this case, however, a lack of equilibrium would\nresult not in pain, but in ecstasy. For if acoustic impressions played\ndirectly into our limb-system, with nothing to hold them in check,\nevery tone we encounter would compel us to an outward manifestation of\nastral activity. We should become part of the tone-process itself,\nforced to transform it by the volitional part of our astral\norganization into spatial movement. That this does not happen is\nbecause the participation of the nervous system serves to damp down the\npotential ecstasy. Hence it is more or less left to the sentient part\nof the astral organization - that is, the part free from the physical\nbody - to partake in the astral processes underlying the tone\noccurrences.\n\n*\n\nOur discussion has reached a point where we are able to answer a\nquestion which first arose in the course of our study of the four\nethers, and which arises here anew.\n\nIn studying the chemical or sound ether we were faced with the fact\nthat part of the etheric realm, although in itself accessible to the\nspiritual part of the sense of sight, offers supersensible experience\ncomparable to the perception of sound. Conversely, we are now met by\nthe fact that it is spiritual hearing which gives access to the\nimmediate perception of a realm of forces which is not only the source\nof acoustic phenomena, but the origin of all that manifests in nature\nin the form of sulphurous, saline and mercurial events, such as the\nworld of colours, electricity, magnetism, the manifold rhythmic\noccurrences on the earth (both taken as a whole .and in single\norganisms), etc. - all of which are taken hold of by quite other senses\nthan that of hearing.\n\nAt our first encounter with this problem we remarked that in the\nsupersensible no such sharp distinctions exist between different\nsense-spheres as are found in body-bound sense-perception. At the same\ntime we remembered that even in physical perception we are inclined to\nattach acoustic attributes to colours and optical attributes to tones.\nIn fact, it was precisely an instance of this kind of experience,\nnamely, our conception of tone-colour, which gave us our lead in\ndiscussing the acoustic sphere in general. Our picture of the\nparticular interaction of the two polar bodily systems in the acts of\nseeing and hearing now enables us to understand more clearly how these\ntwo spheres of perception overlap in man. For we have seen how the\nsystem which in seeing is the receiving organ, works in hearing as the\nresponding one, and vice versa. As a result, optical impressions are\naccompanied by dim sensations of sound, and aural impressions by dim\nsensations of colour.\n\nWhat we are thus dimly aware of in physical sense activity, becomes\ndefinite experience when the supersensible part of the senses concerned\ncan work unfettered by the bodily organ. Clear testimony of this is\nagain given to us by Traherne in a poem entitled Dumnesse. This poem\ncontains an account of Traherne's recollection of the significant fact\nthat the transition from the cosmic to the earthly condition of his\nconsciousness was caused by his learning to speak. The following is a\npassage from the description of the impressions which were his before\nhis soul was overcome by this change:\n\n'Then did I dwell within a World of Light\nDistinct and Seperat from all Mens Sight,\nWhere I did feel strange Thoughts, and such Things see\nThat were, or seemd, only reveald to Me ...\n\n'... A Pulpit in my Mind\nA Temple, and a Teacher I did find,\nWith a large Text to comment on. No Ear,\nBut Eys them selvs were all the Hearers there.\nAnd evry Stone, and Evry Star a Tongue,\nAnd evry Gale of Wind a Curious Song.'11\n\n*\n\nWe have obtained a sufficiently clear picture of the organization of\nour sense of hearing to see where the way lies that leads from hearing\nwith the ears of the body to hearing with the ears of the spirit, that\nis, to the inspirative perception of the astral world.\n\nIn the psycho-physical condition which is characteristic of our present\nday-consciousness, the participation of our astral organization in any\nhappenings of the outer astral world depends on our corporeal motor\nsystem being stimulated by the acoustic motions of the air, or of some\nother suitable medium contacting our body. For it is only in this way\nthat our astral organization is brought into the sympathetic vibrations\nnecessary for perceiving outer astral happenings. In order that astral\nevents other than those manifesting acoustically may become accessible\nto our consciousness, our own astral being must become capable of\nvibrating in tune with them, just as if we were hearing them - that is,\nwe must be able to rouse our astral forces to an activity similar to\nthat of hearing, yet without any physical stimulus. The way to this\nconsists in training ourselves to experience the deeds and sufferings\nof nature as if they were the deeds and sufferings of a beloved friend.\n\nIt is thus that we shall learn to hear the soul of the universe\ndirectly speaking to us, as Lorenzo divined it, when his love for\nJessica made him feel in love with all the world, and he exclaimed:\n\n'There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st\nBut in his motion like an angel sings,\nStill quiring to the young-eyed cherubim, -\nSuch harmony is in immortal souls.\nBut whilst this muddy vesture of decay\nDoth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.'\n\n* *\n *\n(c) KEPLER AND THE 'MUSIC OF THE SPHERES'\n\n'One must choose one's saints .. . and so I have chosen mine, and\nbefore all others, Kepler. In my ante-room he has ever a niche of his\nown, with his bust in it.'\n\nThis opinion of Goethe's must surprise us in view of the fact that\nKepler was the discoverer of the three laws called after him, one of\nwhich is supposed to have laid the foundation for Newton's mechanical\nconception of the universe. In what follows it will be shown how wrong\nit is to see in Kepler a forerunner of the mechanistic conception of\nthe world; how near, in reality, his world-picture is to the one to\nwhich we are led by working along Goetheanistic lines; and how right\ntherefore Goethe was in his judgment on Kepler.\n\nGoethe possessed a sensitive organ for the historical appropriateness\nof human ideas. As an illustration of this it may be mentioned how he\nreacted when someone suggested to him that Joachim Jungius - an\noutstanding German thinker, contemporary of Bacon, Van Helmont, etc. -\nhad anticipated his idea of the metamorphosis of the plant. This remark\nworried Goethe, not because he could not endure the thought of being\nanticipated (see his treatment of K. F. Wolff), but because this would\nhave run counter to the meaning of man's historical development as he\nsaw it. 'Why do I regard as essential the question whether Jungius\nconceived the idea of metamorphosis as we know it? My answer is, that\nit is most significant in the history of the sciences, when a\npenetrating and vitalizing maxim comes to be uttered. Therefore it is\nnot only of importance that Jungius has not expressed this maxim; but\nit is of highest significance that he was positively unable to express\nit - as we boldly assert.'12\n\nFor the same reason Goethe knew it would be historically unjustified to\nexpect that Kepler could have conceived an aspect of the universe\nimplicit in his own conception of nature. Hence it did not disturb him\nin his admiration for Kepler, that through him the Copernican aspect of\nthe universe had become finally established in the modern mind - that\nis, an aspect which, as we have seen, is invalid as a means of forming\na truly dynamic conception of the world.\n\nIn forming his picture of the universe, it is true, Copernicus was\nconcerned with nothing but the spatial movements of the luminous\nentities discernible in the sky, without any regard to their actual\nnature and dynamic interrelationships. Hence his world-picture - as\nbefits the spectator-form of human consciousness which was coming to\nbirth in his own time - is a purely kinematic one. As such it has\nvalidity for a certain sphere of human observation.\n\nWhen Kepler, against the hopes of his forerunner and friend, Tycho\nBrahe, accepted the heliocentric standpoint and made it the basis of\nhis observations, he did so out of his understanding of what was the\ntruth for his own time. Kepler's ideal was to seek after knowledge\nthrough pure observation. In this respect Goethe took him as his model.\nKepler's discoveries were a proof that man's searching mind is given\ninsight into great truths at any stage of its development, provided it\nkeeps to the virtue of practising pure observation.\n\nIt has been the error of Newton and his successors up to our own day,\nto try to conceive the world dynamically within the limits of their\nspectator-consciousness and thus to form a dynamic interpretation of\nthe universe based on its heliocentric aspect. This was just as\nrepellent to Goethe as Kepler's attitude was attractive.\n\nBut by so sharply distinguishing between Newton and Kepler, do we not\ndo injustice to the fact that, as the world believes, Kepler's third\nlaw is the parent of Newton's law of gravitation? The following will\nshow that this belief is founded on an illusory conception of the kind\nwe met before. As we shall see, Kepler's discovery, when treated in a\nKeplerian way, instead of leading to Newton, is found to be in full\nagreement with the very world-picture to which our own observations\nhave led us.\n\n*\n\nIt is an established conviction of the mathematical scientist that,\nonce an observed regularity in nature has been expressed as a\nmathematical equation, this equation may be transformed in any\nmathematically valid way, and the resulting formula will still apply to\nsome existing fact in the world. On innumerable occasions this\nprinciple has been used in the expectation of providing further insight\ninto the secrets of nature. We came across a typical instance of this\nin discussing the basic theorem of kinematics and dynamics (Chapter\nVIII). Another example is Newton's treatment of Kepler's third law, or\n- more precisely - the way in which Newton's law of gravitation has\nbeen held to confirm Kepler's observations, and vice versa,\n\nIt will be our task to analyse the Kepler-Newton case on the very lines\nof our treatment of the two parallelogram theorems. This analysis will\ngive us insight into a truth which we have to regard as one of the\nbasic maxims of the new science. It says that whether a given formula,\nderived mathematically from one that was first read from nature, still\nexpresses some fact of nature, cannot be decided by pure mathematical\nlogic, but only by testing it against truly observable phenomena.\n\nThrough Kepler's third law a certain relation is expressed between the\nspatial dimensions of the different planetary spheres and the time\nneeded by the relevant planet to circle once round the circumference of\nits own sphere. It says: 'The squares of the periodic times of the\nplanets are always in the same proportion as the cubes of their mean\ndistances from the sun.' In mathematical symbols this reads:\nt12 / t22 = r13 / r23\nWe shall see later how Kepler arrived at this law. The point is that\nthere is nothing in it which is not accessible to pure observation.\nSpatial distances and lengths of time are measured and the results\ncompared. Nothing, for instance, is said about the dynamic cause of the\nmovements. The assertion is restricted - and this is true also of the\nfirst and second law - to a purely kinematic content, and so precisely\nto what the earthly onlooker can apprehend. Now it is said that\nKepler's third law is a necessary consequence of Newton's law of\ngravitation, and that - since it is based on pure observation - it\ntherefore establishes the truth of Newton's conception. In this\nassertion we encounter a misconception exactly like the one in the\nstatement that the theorem of the parallelogram of forces follows by\nlogical necessity from the theorem of the parallelogram of velocities.\nFor:\n\n(a) The law of gravitation itself derives from Newton's formula for the\ncentripetal force acting at a point which moves along a circle, this\nformula being itself the result of an amplification of the formula for\ncentripetal acceleration by the factor 'mass' (as if the latter were a\npure number):\n\nCentripetal acceleration:\na = 4(\u00cf\u0080^2)r / t2\n\nCentripetal force:\nP = am = 4(\u00cf\u0080^2)mr / t2\n\n(b) The formula for centripetal acceleration - and the concept of such\nacceleration itself - is the result of splitting circular movement into\ntwo rectilinear movements, one in the direction of the tangent, the\nother in the direction of the radius, and of regarding it - by a mode\nof reasoning typical of spectator-thinking - as composed of the two.\nThis procedure, however, useful as it may be for the purpose of\ncalculation, is contrary to observation. For, as we have pointed out\nearlier, observation tells us that all original movement - and what can\nbe more original than the movements of the planetary bodies - is\ncurvilinear. No insight into the dynamic reality of cosmic movement,\ntherefore, can ever be gained by handling it mathematically in this\nway.\n\n(c) The transformation of Kepler's formula which is necessary in order\nto give it a form representing the nucleus of Newton's formula, is one\nwhich, though mathematically justified, deprives Kepler's formula of\nany significance as expression of an observed fact. The following\nanalysis will show this.\n\nKepler's formula-\nr1^3 / r2^3 = t1^2 / t2^2\nmay be written also\nr1^3 / t1^2 = r2^3 / t2^2\nand this again in the generalized form:\nr3 / t2 = c.\nObviously, by each of these steps we diminish the reality-value of the\nformula. In its original form, we find spatial extension compared with\nspatial extension, and temporal extension with temporal extension. Each\nof the two comparisons is a fully concrete one, because we compare\nentities of like nature, and only then test the ratios of the two -\nthat is, two pure numbers against each other - to find that they are\nidentical. To compare a spatial and a temporal magnitude, as is done by\nthe formula in its second form, requires already a certain degree of\nabstraction. Still, it is all spectator's work, and for the spectator\ntime is conceivable and measurable only as a rate of spatial\ndisplacement. Hence the constant number c, by representing the ratio\nbetween the spatial extension of the realm inside a planet's orbit and\nthe time needed by it to perform one round on this orbit - a ratio\nwhich is the same for all planets - represents a definite structural\nelement of our cosmic system.\n\nBy this last operation our equation has now achieved a form which\nrequires only one more transformation to bring it into line with\nNewton's formula. Instead of writing:\nr3 / t2 = c\nwe write:\nr / t2 = c (1 / r2)\nAll that now remains to be done amounts to an amplification of this\nequation by the factor 4(\u00cf\u0080^2)m, and a gathering of the constant product\n4(\u00cf\u0080^2)c under a new symbol, for which we choose the letter f. In this way\nwe arrive at:\n4(\u00cf\u0080^2)mr / t2 = 4(\u00cf\u0080^2)cm / r2\nand finally:\nP = ... = fm / r2\nwhich is the expression of the gravitational pull believed to be\nexerted by the sun on the various planetary bodies. Nothing can be said\nagainst this procedure from the point of view\n\nof mathematical logic. For the latter the equation\nr / t2 = c (1 / r2)\nis still an expression of Kepler's observation. Not so for a logic\nwhich tries to keep in touch with concrete reality. For what meaning,\nrelevant to the phenomenal universe as it manifests in space and time\nto physical perception, is there in stating - as the equation in this\nform does - that: the ratio between a planet's distance from the sun\nand the square of its period is always proportional to the reciprocal\nvalue of the area lying inside its orbit?\n\n*\n\nOnce we have rid ourselves of the false conception that Kepler's law\nimplies Newton's interpretation of the physical universe as a dynamic\nentity ruled by gravity, and gravity alone, we are free to ask what\nthis law can tell us about the nature of the universe if in examining\nit we try to remain true to Kepler's own approach.\n\nTo behave in a Keplerian (and thus in a Goethean) fashion regarding a\nmathematical formula which expresses an observed fact of nature, does\nnot mean that to submit such a formula to algebraic transformation is\naltogether impermissible. All we have to make sure of is that the\ntransformation is required by the observed facts themselves: for\ninstance, by the need for an even clearer manifestation of their ideal\ncontent. Such is indeed the case with the equation which embodies\nKepler's third law. We said that in its original form this equation\ncontains a concrete statement because it expresses comparisons between\nspatial extensions, on the one hand, and between temporal extensions,\non the other. Now, in the form in which the spatial magnitudes occur,\nthey express something which is directly conceivable. The third power\nof a spatial distance (r^3) represents the measure of a volume in\nthree-dimensional space. The same cannot be said of the temporal\nmagnitudes on the other side of the equation (t^2). For our conception\nof time forbids us to connect any concrete idea with 'squared time'. We\nare therefore called upon to find out what form we can give this side\nof the equation so as to express the time-factor in a manner which is\nin accord with our conception of time, that is, in linear form.13 This\nform readily suggests itself if we consider that we have here to do\nwith a ratio of squares. For such a ratio may be resolved into a ratio\nof two simple ratios.\n\nIn this way the equation -\nr1^3 / r2^3 = t1^2 / t2^2\nassumes the form-\nr1^3 / r2^3 = (t1 / t2) / (t2 / t1)\nThe right-hand side of the equation is now constituted by the double\nratio of the linear values of the periods of two planets, and this is\nsomething with which we can connect a quite concrete idea.\n\nTo see this, let us choose the periods of two definite planets - say,\nEarth and Jupiter. For these the equation assumes the following form\n('J' and 'E' indicating 'Jupiter' and 'Earth' respectively):\nrJ^3 / rE^3 = (tJ / tE) / (tE / tJ)\nLet us now see what meaning we can attach to the two expressions\ntJ / tE and tE / tJ.\n\nDuring one rotation of Jupiter round the sun the earth circles 12 times\nround it. This we are wont to express by saying that Jupiter needs 12\nearth-years for one rotation; in symbols:\ntJ / tE = 12 / 1\nTo find the analogous expression for the reciprocal ratio:\ntE / tJ = 1 / 12\nwe must obviously form the concept 'Jupiter-year', which covers one\nrotation of Jupiter, just as the concept 'earth-year' covers one\nrotation of the earth (always round the sun). Measured in this\ntime-scale, the earth needs for one of her rotations 1 / 12 of a\nJupiter-year.\n\nWith the help of these concepts we are now able to express the double\nratio of the planetary periods in the following simplified way. If we\nsuppose the measuring of the two planetary periods to be carried out\nnot by the same time-scale, but each by the time-scale of the other,\nthe formula becomes:\nrJ3 / rE3 = (tJ / tE) / (tE / tJ) = period of Jupiter measured in\nEarth-years / period of Earth measured in Jupiter-years.\nInterpreted in this manner, Kepler's third law discloses an intimate\ninterrelatedness of each planet to all the others as co-members of the\nsame cosmic whole. For the equation now tells us that the solar times\nof the various planets are regulated in such a way that for any two of\nthem the ratio of these times, measured in their mutual time-units, is\nthe same as the ratio of the spaces swept out by their (solar) orbits.\n\nFurther, by having the various times of its members thus tuned to one\nanother, our cosmic system shows itself to be ordered on a principle\nwhich is essentially musical. To see this, we need only recall that the\nmusical value of a given tone is determined by its relation to other\ntones, whether they sound together in a chord, or in succession as\nmelody. A 'C' alone is musically undefined. It receives its character\nfrom its interval-relation to some other tone, say, 'G', together with\nwhich it forms a Fifth. As the lower tone of this interval, 'C' bears a\ndefinite character; and so does 'G' as the upper tone.\n\nNow we know that each interval represents a definite ratio between the\nperiodicities of its two tones. In the case of the Fifth the ratio is\n2:3 (in the natural scale). This means that the lower tone receives its\ncharacter from being related to the upper tone by the ratio 2:3.\nSimilarly, the upper tone receives its character from the ratio 3:2.\nThe specific character of an interval arising out of the merging of its\ntwo tones, therefore, is determined by the ratio of their ratios. In\nthe case of the Fifth this is 4:9. It is this ratio, therefore, which\nunderlies our experience of a Fifth.\n\nThe cosmic factor corresponding to the periodicity of the single tone\nin music is the orbital period of the single planet. To the musical\ninterval formed by two tones corresponds the double ratio of the\nperiods of any two planets. Regarded thus, Kepler's law can be\nexpressed as follows: The spatial ordering of our planetary system is\ndetermined by the interval-relation in which the different planets\nstand to each other.\n\nBy thus unlocking the ideal content hidden in Kepler's third law, we\nare at the same time enabled to do justice to the way in which he\nhimself announced his discovery. In textbooks and encyclopaedias it is\nusually said that the discovery of the third law was the surprising\nresult of Kepler's fantastic attempt to prove by external observation\nwhat was once taught in the school of Pythagoras, namely, that (in\nWordsworth's language):\n\n'By one pervading spirit\nOf tones and numbers all things are controlled.'\n\nActually, Kepler's great work, Harmonices Mundi, in the last part of\nwhich he announces his third law, is entirely devoted to proving the\ntruth of the Pythagorean doctrine that the universe is ordered\naccording to the laws of music. This doctrine sprang from the gift of\nspiritual hearing still possessed by Pythagoras, by which he could\nperceive the harmonies of the spheres. It was the aim of his school to\nkeep this faculty alive as long as possible, and with its aid to\nestablish a communicable world-conception. The Pythagorean teaching\nbecame the foundation of all later cosmological thinking, right up to\nthe age which was destined to bring to birth the spectator-relationship\nof man's consciousness with the world. Thus it was left to Copernicus\nto give mankind the first truly non-Pythagorean picture of the\nuniverse.\n\nWhen Kepler declared himself in favour of the heliocentric aspect, as\nindicated by Copernicus, he acknowledged that the universe had grown\ndumb for man's inner ear. Yet, besides his strong impulse to meet the\ntrue needs of his time, there were inner voices telling him of secrets\nthat were hidden behind the veil woven by man's physical perceptions.\nOne of these secrets was the musical order of the world. Such\nknowledge, however, could not induce him to turn to older\nworld-conceptions in his search for truth. He had no need of them,\nbecause there was yet another voice in him which told him that the\nspiritual order of the world must somehow manifest itself in the body\nof the world as it lay open to physical perception. Just as a musical\ninstrument, if it is to be a perfect means of bringing forth music,\nmust bear in its build the very laws of music, so must the body of the\nuniverse, as the instrument on which the harmonies of the spheres play\ntheir spiritual music, bear in its proportions a reflexion of these\nharmonies. Kepler was sure that investigation of the world's body,\nprovided it was carried out by means of pure observation, must needs\nlead to a re-establishment of the ancient truth in a form appropriate\nto the modern mind. Thus Kepler, guided by an ancient spiritual\nconception of the world, could devote himself to confirming its truth\nby the most up-to-date methods of research. That his search was not in\nvain, our examination of the third law has shown.\n\nOne thing, however, remains surprising - that Kepler announced his\ndiscovery in the form in which it has henceforth engraved itself in the\nmodern mind, while refraining from that analysis of it which we have\napplied to it here. Yet, in this respect also Kepler proves to have\nremained true to himself. There is, on the one hand, the form in which\nKepler pronounced his discovery; there is, on the other, the context in\nwhich he made this pronouncement. We have already pointed out that the\nthird law forms part of Kepler's comprehensive work, Harmonices Mundi.\nTo the modern critic's understanding it appears there like an erratic\nblock. For Kepler this was different. While publishing his discovery in\nprecisely the form in which it is conceived by a mind bent on pure\nobservation, he gave it a setting by which he left no doubt as to his\nown conception of its ideal content. And as a warning to the future\nreader not to overlook the message conveyed by this arrangement, he\nintroduced the section of his book which contains the announcement of\nthe law, with the mysterious words about himself: 'I have stolen the\ngolden vessels of the Egyptians from which to furnish for my God a holy\nshrine far from Egypt's confines.'\n\n1 We must here distinguish sensation from feeling proper, in which\nsensation and motion merge in mercurial balance.\n\n2 Note how for Ruskin the gulf which for the onlooker-consciousness\nlies between subject and object is bridged here - as it was for Goethe\nin his representation of the physico-moral effect of colour.\n\n3 De motu animalium and Theoria mediceorum planetarum ex causis\nphysicis deducta.\n\n4 Knowledge of this biological rhythm is still preserved among native\npeoples to-day and leads them to take account of the phases of the moon\nin their treatment of plants. A cosmic nature-wisdom of this kind has\nbeen reopened for us in modern form by Rudolf Steiner, and has since\nfound widespread practical application in agriculture. See L. Kolisko,\nThe Moon and Plant Growth.\n\n5 In the order of names given above we follow the ancient usage for the\ntwo planets nearest to the sun, not the reversed order in which they\nare used to-day. This is necessary in a cosmology which aspires at a\nqualitative understanding of the universe, in view of the qualities\nrepresented by these names. Note also the absence of the three most\ndistant planets, Uranus, Neptune and Pluto. They are not to be\nconsidered as parts of the indigenous astral structure of our cosmic\nsystem - any more than radioactivity is an original feature of the\nearth.\n\n6 Note the 'Venus' character of Ruskin's description of the plant's\nstate of florescence quoted above (p. 336).\n\n7 As to the time-scale of the processes brought about by Mercury and\nVenus respectively, experience shows that they reveal the cosmic\nrhythms less clearly than those for which the Moon-activity is\nresponsible. The same is found at the opposite pole. There it is the\nSaturn - generated processes which show the cosmic rhythm more\nconspicuously than those engendered by Jupiter and Mars. To learn to\nrecognize rhythmic events in nature and man as reflexions of\ncorresponding planetary rhythms is one of the tasks which future\nscientific research has to tackle. A practical example of this kind\nwill appear in the further course of this chapter.\n\n8 See L. Kolisko: Working of the Stars in Earthly Substances, and other\npublications by the same author.\n\n9 The close connexion between the ear and the motor system of the body\nis shown in another way by the fact that part of the ear serves as an\norgan for the sense of balance.\n\n10 The muscle-tone can be made audible by the following means. In a\nroom guarded against noise, press the thumbs lightly upon the ears and\ntense the muscles of the hands and arms - say by pressure of the\nfingers against the palms or by contracting the muscle of the upper\narms. If this is done repeatedly, the muscle-tone will be heard after\nsome practice with increasing distinctness. It is easily distinguished\nfrom the sound of the circulating blood as it is much higher. (As an\nexample: the author's muscular pitch, not a particularly high one, has\na frequency of approx. 630 per sec., which puts it between Treble D\nsharp and E.)\n\n11 Compare also the beginning of Traherne's poem Wonder, quoted in\nChapter VI (p. 110), where he says that everything he saw 'did with me\ntalk'.\n\n12 For the particular reasons by which Goethe justifies his assertion,\nsee his essay Leben und Verdienste des Doktor Joachim Jungius.\n\n13 The natural question why Kepler himself did not take this step, will\nbe answered later on.\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI\n\nKnow Thyself\n\nOur inquiries have led us to a picture of man as a\nsensible-supersensible organism composed of three dynamic aggregates -\nphysical, etheric, astral. As three rungs of a spiritual ladder they\npoint to a fourth, which represents that particular power in man by\nwhich he distinguishes himself from all other beings in nature. For\nwhat makes man differ from all these is that he is not only fitted, as\nthey are, with a once-for-all given mode of spiritual-physical\nexistence peculiar to himself, but that he is endowed with the\npossibility of transforming his existence by dint of his free will -\nthat indeed his manhood is based on this capacity for self-willed\nBecoming.\n\nTo this fourth principle in man we can give no better name than that\nwhich every human being can apply to himself alone and to no other, and\nwhich no other can apply to him. This is the name, I. In truth, we\ndescribe man in his entirety only if we ascribe to him, in addition to\na physical, etheric and astral body, the possession of an I (Ego).\n\nNaturally, our previous studies have afforded many opportunities for\nobserving the nature and mode of activity of the I. Still, at the\nconclusion of these studies it is not redundant to form a concise\npicture of this part of man's being, with particular regard to how it\nworks within the three other principles as its sheaths. For in modern\npsychology, not excluding the branch of it where efforts are made to\npenetrate into deeper regions of man's being, nothing is less well\nunderstood than the true nature of man's egoity.\n\n*\n\nIn order to recognize the peculiar function of the I in man, we must\nfirst be clear as to how he differs from the other kingdoms of nature,\nand how they differ from one another with respect to the mode of action\nof the physical, etheric and astral forces.\n\nThe beings of all the kingdoms of nature are endowed with an aggregate\nof physical forces in the form of a material body subject to gravity.\nThe same cannot be said of the etheric forces. Only where life is\npresent as an inherent principle - that is, in plant, animal and man -\nis ether at work in the form of an individual etheric organization,\nwhile the mineral is formed by the universal ether from outside. Where\nlife prevails, we are met by the phenomena of birth and death. When a\nliving organism comes to birth, an individual ether-body is formed out\nof the general etheric substance of the universe.1 The death of such an\norganism consists in the separation of the etheric from the physical\nbody and the dissolution of both in their respective mother-realms. So\nlong as an organism is alive, its form is maintained by the ether-body\npresent in it.\n\nOur studies have shown that the plant is not devoid of the operation of\nastral forces. In the plant's life-cycle this comes to clearest\nexpression in its florescence. But it is a working of the astral forces\nfrom outside, very much as the ether works on the mineral. As a symptom\nof this fact we may recall the dependence of the plant on the various\nouter astronomical rhythms.\n\nIt is only in animal and man that we find the astral forces working in\nthe form of separate astral bodies. This accounts for their capacity\nfor sensation and volition. Besides the alternation of birth and death,\nthey experience the rhythm of sleeping and waking. Sleep occurs when\nthe astral body leaves the physical and etheric bodies in order to\nexpand into its planetary mother-sphere, whence it gathers new energy.\nDuring this time its action on the physical-etheric aggregate remaining\nupon earth is similar to that of the astral cosmos upon the plant.\n\nAgain, in the animal kingdom the ego-principle works as an external\nforce in the form of various group-soul activities which control and\nregulate the life of the different animal species. It is in the\ngroup-ego of the species that we have to look for the source of the\nwisdom-filled instincts which we meet in the single animals.\n\nOnly in man does the ego-principle enter as an individual entity into\nthe single physico-etheric-astral organism. Here, however, the\nsuccession of stages we have outlined comes to a conclusion. For with\nthe appearance of the I as an individual principle, the preceding\nevolutionary process - or, more correctly, the involutionary process -\nbegins to be reversed. In moving up from one kingdom to the next, we\nfind always one more dynamic principle appearing in a state of\nseparation from its mother-sphere; this continues to the point where\nthe I, through uniting itself with a thus emancipated\nphysico-etheric-astral organism, arrives at the stage of\nself-consciousness. Once this stage has been reached, however, it falls\nto the I to reverse the process of isolation, temporarily sanctioned by\nthe cosmos for the sake of man.\n\nThat it is not in the nature of the I to leave its sheaths in the\ncondition in which it finds them when entering them at the beginning of\nlife, can be seen from the activities it performs in them during the\nfirst period after birth. Indeed, in man's early childhood we meet a\nnumber of events in which we can perceive something like ur-deeds of\nthe I. They are the acquisition of the faculties of walking, speaking\nand thinking. What we shall here say about them has, in essentials,\nalready been touched upon in earlier pages. Here, however, we are\nputting it forward in a new light.\n\nOnce again we find our attention directed to the threefold structure of\nman's physical organism. For the faculty of upright walking is a result\nof the I's activity in the limb-system of the body; the acquisition of\nspeech takes place in the rhythmic system; and thinking is a faculty\nbased on the nerve-system. Consequently, each of the three achievements\ncomes to pass at a different level of consciousness-sleeping, dreaming,\nwaking. All through the struggle of erecting the body against the pull\nof gravity, the child is entirely unaware of the activities of his own\nI. In the course of acquiring speech he gains a dim awareness, as\nthough in dream, of his efforts. Some capacity of thinking has to\nunfold before the first glimmer of true self-consciousness is kindled.\n(Note that the word 'I' is the only one that is not added to the\nchild's vocabulary by way of imitation. Otherwise he would, as some\nmentally inhibited children do, call all other people 'I' and himself\n'you'.)\n\nThis picture of the three ur-deeds of the I can now be amplified in the\nfollowing way. We know that the region of the bodily limbs is that in\nwhich physical, etheric and astral forces interpenetrate most deeply.\nConsequently, the I can here press forward most powerfully into the\nphysical body and on into the dynamic sphere to which the body is\nsubject. Here the I is active in a way that is 'magic' in the highest\ndegree. Moreover, there is no other action for which the I receives so\nlittle stimulus from outside. For, in comparison, the activity that\nleads to the acquisition of speech is much more of the nature of a\nreaction to stimuli coming from outside - the sounds reaching the child\nfrom his environment. And it is also with the first words of the\nlanguage that the first thoughts enter the child's mind. Nothing of the\nkind happens at the first stage. On the contrary: everything that\nconfronts the I here is of the nature of an obstacle that is to be\novercome.\n\nThere is no learning to speak without the hearing of uttered sounds. As\nthese sounds approach the human being they set the astral body in\nmovement, as we have seen. The movements of the astral body flow\ntowards the larynx, where they are seized by the I; through their help\nthe I imbues the larynx with the faculty of producing these sounds\nitself. Here, therefore, the I is active essentially within the astral\nbody which has received its stimulus from outside. In order to\nunderstand what impels the I to such action, we must remember the role\nplayed by speech in human life: without speech there would be no\ncommunity among human individuals on earth.\n\nAn illustration of what the I accomplishes as it enters upon the third\nstage is provided by the following episode, actually observed. Whilst\nall the members of a family were sitting at table taking their soup,\nthe youngest member suddenly cried out: 'Daddy spoon ... mummy spoon.\n... ' (everyone in turn spoon) ' ... all spoon!' At this moment, from\nmerely designating single objects by names learnt through imitation,\nthe child's consciousness had awakened to connective thinking. That\nthis achievement was a cause of inner satisfaction could be heard in\nthe joyful crescendo with which these ejaculations were made.\n\nWe know that the presence of waking consciousness within the\nnerves-and-senses organism rests upon the fact that the connexion\nbetween physical body and etheric body is there the most external of\nall. But precisely because this is so, the etheric body is dominated\nvery strongly by the forces to which the physical head owes its\nformation. This, too, is not fundamentally new to us. What can now be\nadded is that, in consequence, the physical brain and the part of the\netheric body belonging to it - the etheric brain - assume a function\ncomparable with that of a mirror, the physical organ representing the\nreflecting mass and the etheric organ its metallic gloss. When, within\nthe head, the etheric body reflects back the impressions received from\nthe astral body, the I becomes aware of them in the form of mental\nimages (the 'ideas' of the onlooker-philosopher). It is also by way of\nsuch reflexion that the I first grows aware of itself - but as nothing\nmore than an image among images. Here, therefore, it is itself least\nactive.\n\nIf, once again, we compare the three happenings of learning to walk, to\nspeak and to think, we find ourselves faced with the remarkable fact\nthat the progressive lighting up of consciousness from one stage to the\nnext, goes hand in hand with a retrogression in the activity of the I\nitself. At the first stage, where the I knows least of itself, it is\nalive in the most direct sense out of its own being; at the second\nstage, where it is in the dreaming state, it receives the impetus of\naction through the astral body; at the third stage, where the I wakens\nto clear self-consciousness, it assumes merely the role of onlooker at\nthe pictures moving within the etheric body.\n\nCompare with this the paths to higher faculties of knowledge,\nImagination and Inspiration, as we learnt to know them in our previous\nstudies. The comparison shows that exactly the same forces come into\nplay at the beginning of life, when the I endeavours to descend from\nits pre-earthly, cosmic environment to its earthly existence, as have\nto be made use of for the ascending of the I from earthly to cosmic\nconsciousness. Only, as is natural, the sequence of steps is reversed.\nFor on the upward way the first deed of the I is that which leads to a\nwakening in the etheric world: it is a learning to set in motion the\netheric forces in the region of the head in such a way that the usual\nisolation of this part of the etheric body is overcome. Regarded thus,\nthe activity of the I at this stage reveals a striking similarity to\nthe activity applied in the earliest period of childhood at the\nopposite pole of the organism. To be capable of imaginative sight\nactually means to be able to move about in etheric space by means of\nthe etheric limbs of the eyes just as one moves about in physical space\nby means of the physical limbs.\n\nSimilarly, the acquisition of Inspiration is a resuming on a higher\nlevel of the activity exercised by the I with the help of the astral\nbody when learning to speak. And here, too, the functions are reversed.\nFor while the child is stimulated by the spoken sounds he hears to\nbring his own organ of speech into corresponding movements, and so\ngradually learns to produce speech, the acquisition of Inspiration, as\nwe have seen, depends on learning to bring the supersensible forces of\nthe speech-organ into movement in such a way that these forces become\nthe organ for hearing the supersensible language of the universe.\n\nOur knowledge of the threefold structure of man's organism leads us to\nseek, besides the stages of Imagination and Inspiration, a third stage\nwhich is as much germinally present in the body's region of movement,\nas the two others are in the regions of thought and speech. After what\nwe have learnt in regard to these three, we may assume that the path\nleading to this third stage consists in producing a condition of\nwide-awake, tranquil contemplation in the very region where the I is\nwont to unfold its highest degree of initiative on the lowest level of\nconsciousness.\n\nIn an elementary manner this attitude of soul was practised by us when,\nin our earlier studies, we endeavoured to become inner observers of the\nactivity of our own limbs, with the aim of discovering the origin of\nour concept of mass. It was in this way that a line of observation\nopened up to us which led to the recognition of the physical substances\nof the earth as congealed spiritual functions or, we may say, congealed\nutterances of cosmic will.\n\nCosmic Will, however, does not work into our existence only in such a\nway that, in the form of old and therefore rigid Will, it puts up\nresistance against the young will-power of the I, so that in overcoming\nthis resistance the I may waken to self-activity. Cosmic Will is also\npresent in us in an active form. We point here to the penetration by\nthe higher powers of the universe into the forming of the destiny of\nhumanity and of individual man. And here Rudolf Steiner has shown that\nto a man who succeeds in becoming a completely objective observer of\nhis own existence while actively functioning within it (as in an\nelementary way we endeavoured to become observers of our limb actions\nwhile engaged in performing them) the world begins to reveal itself as\nan arena of the activities of divine-spiritual Beings, whose reality\nand acts he is now able to apprehend through inner awareness. Herewith\na third stage of man's faculty of cognition is added to the stages of\nImagination and Inspiration. When Rudolf Steiner chose for it the word\nIntuition he applied this word, also, in its truest meaning.\n\n*\n\nWhile through Imagination man comes to know of his ether-body as part\nof his make-up, and correspondingly through Inspiration of his astral\nbody, and thereby recognizes himself as participant in the\nsupersensible forces of the universe, it is through Intuition that he\ngrows into full awareness of his I as a spirit-being among\nspirit-beings -\n\nGod-begotten, God-companioned,\nfor ever God-ward striving.\n\n1 The word 'body' is here used in a sense no different from our earlier\nuse of it, when in connexion with our study of combustion (Chapter XI)\nwe referred to the 'warmth-body' as a characteristic of the higher\nanimals and man. Such a warmth-body is nothing else but the\nwarmth-ether part of an ether-body. To use the word body for\naggregations of etheric or astral forces is legitimate if one considers\nthe fact that the physical body also is really a purely dynamic entity,\nthat is, a certain aggregate of forces more or less self-contained.","title":"Man or Matter: Introduction to a Spiritual Understanding of Nature on the Basis of Goethe's Method of Training Observation and Thought","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":139689}