a complete halt upon the juices that rise up right into the calyx, so
that these bring nothing of their life-bearing activity into the
formation of the flower, but undergo a complete transmutation, not
gradually, but with a sudden leap.

After achieving its masterpiece in the flower, the plant once more goes
through a process of withdrawal, this time into the tiny organs of
fertilization. (We shall return later to this essential stage in the
life cycle of the plant, and shall then clear up the misinterpretation
put upon it ever since scientific biology began.) After fertilization,
the fruit begins to swell; once more the plant produces an organ with a
more or less conspicuous spatial extension. This is followed by a final
and extreme contraction in the forming of the seed inside the fruit. In
the seed the plant gives up all outer appearance to such a degree that
nothing seems to remain but a small, insignificant speck of organized
matter. Yet this tiny, inconspicuous thing bears in it the power of
bringing forth a whole new plant.

In these three successive rhythms of expansion and contraction the
plant reveals to us the basic rule of its existence. During each
expansion, the active principle of the plant presses forth into visible
appearance; during each contraction it withdraws from outer embodiment
into what we may describe as a more or less pure state of being. We
thus find the spiritual principle of the plant engaged in a kind of
breathing rhythm, now appearing, now disappearing, now assuming power
over matter, now withdrawing from it again.

In the fully developed plant this rhythm repeats itself three times in
succession and at ever higher levels, so that the plant, in climbing
from stage to stage, each time goes through a process of withdrawal