The World of Ita Wegman

She was a born cosmopolitan—arriving via Java, the Netherlands, and Berlin to Switzerland, where she studied in Zurich and practiced medicine in Arlesheim, near Basel. From her base in Arlesheim, her Clinical Therapeutic Institute, she once again ventured far out into the world.


She spent half the year traveling, in France, Scotland, and England; in Belgium and the Netherlands; in Palestine, Turkey, and Greece; in Sicily, Italy, and Scandinavia; in Germany and Iceland; in Czechoslovakia, Austria, Bulgaria, Hungary, Serbia, and Croatia. With very few exceptions, these were trips to new therapeutic locations established on her initiative or by people who had trained at the Clinical Therapeutic Institute. There were medical practices and the first anthroposophic clinics, numerous curative education homes, and daycare centers. Ita Wegman visited people, saw patients and coworkers, gave therapeutic advice, counseled on political situations, mediated internal crises, helped with financing, held classes and anthroposophical gatherings to deepen the community and intensify the work, and also to gain inner resilience in difficult times. In 1932, however, she visited Greece without a therapeutic assignment. After seven difficult years on the executive board in Dornach, she resigned from the general assembly and traveled with Ilse Knauer to the ancient Mystery sites.

On her way back to Venice by ship, she wrote to Fried Geuter on May 26, 1932, “I enjoyed this trip immensely and took in the whole of Greece. Like a healing balm, the ancient wonders worked upon me, and I feel myself reborn and fortified, ready to continue Rudolf Steiner’s work, as I carry it in my heart, without hesitation. And when you all help, we will be able to carry out at least as much of R. Steiner’s intentions as are connected with me, with my individuality, at least as much as our strength is able, or so much as needs be saved for the future. The deepest tragedy actually rests on our work in this as in the previous life, and yet Rudolf Steiner once said to me that this tragedy will be lifted in the future, indeed, that it is already lifted. And yet everything that could happen has happened! There must also be people who have understanding, I think, understanding of the workings of karma! [. . .] It certainly was essential to have visited Greece and these sites, and even if one finds nothing more than heaps of ruins of the ancient Mysteries, the landscape is still there, as is the human heart that witnessed so much in those ancient times. It is as if everything arises anew in the image and the heart speaks softly of ancient times.”1

She would have liked to travel more often outside of Europe, by ship to other continents, but this was no longer possible in her lifetime. According to George Adams Kaufmann, she wanted to go to the U.S. with Rudolf Steiner after his recovery. Shortly before the outbreak of World War II, according to Liane Collot d’Herbois, she considered an invitation to found a clinic in Canada and emigrate there, westward.

With her international network of contacts, her many friends, acquaintances, and former patients, she was able to take action even in times of need. When it came to helping people threatened in Nazi Germany, especially Jewish friends and acquaintances, to flee to non-German countries, she acted quickly, purposefully, and successfully—more so than anyone else in the Anthroposophical Society at that time.

Ita Wegman in Arnhem, 1892. Photo: Ita Wegman Archive, Arlesheim (IWA)

Political Judgment

Her ability to act was due not only to her social reach but also to her political judgment. The polis, the community, the public world, and political consciousness were important and familiar to her. She studied daily newspapers from various countries early in the morning and learned a great deal—often through patients and friends in special positions, for example, the well-known French journalist and Steiner translator Jules Sauerwein. When Hitler and his party came to power at the end of January 1933, she was anything but surprised; rather, she had long seen this turn coming and had followed the stages leading up to it attentively and with great concern, as her letters show. Ten years earlier, Rudolf Steiner had already warned of this development; he had experienced and suffered the meteoric rise of the National Socialists since 1920.2 Ita Wegman was dismayed by the naivety, simple-mindedness, optimism, and opportunism of many people in Germany in the spring of 1933, including numerous anthroposophists. “The situation in Germany is quite bizarre and extraordinarily difficult to assess, because evil intentions are cleverly disguised and even give the illusion of being right; an unparalleled seduction is taking place. What is happening there is of enormously significant importance.” (To Fried Geuter, March 24, 1933).

On April 17, 1933, she wrote to her travel companion, Daniel Nicol Dunlop, the organizer of the London World Conference on Spiritual Science and its Practical Applications (1928) and the World Energy Conferences: “It will now probably be the case in Germany that freedom will no longer prevail and that commissars will perhaps be appointed everywhere to decide on matters both in political life as well as in the spiritual life, such as the administration of schools and other things, and also that all Jews will be expelled. This is now, of course, our primary concern, the various friends who cannot remain in Germany, whether because they are of Jewish origin or because, due to certain work they have done in the social sphere, they are not entirely safe in Germany. And for me, the pressing question is: how do we organize ourselves as true anthroposophists in order to serve true humanity, so that, beyond any nationalism, we can continue to spread spiritual science in the right way and also live according to it, because I can see that the wave that is now approaching in Germany will not remain in Germany alone, but will spread out to various other countries, and each country will isolate itself until this ultimately degenerates into a general war, since this is, of course, contrary to all true evolution. How do we behave—and this is also part of our task, otherwise anthroposophy makes no sense at all if we only acquire it for ourselves in the quiet of our own little room—in the face of these momentous things, so that we can work to perhaps prevent some things through our right approach and through the right actions?”

Meditation by Rudolf Steiner. Handwriting by Ita Wegman (notebook). Photo: IWA

Beating Nationalism

This was her lifelong attitude and approach. The “quiet little room” was only to a limited extent the site of anthroposophy and the Anthroposophical Society, which, with its independent School for Spiritual Science, had rather been destined to make an important contribution to “saving the Earth,” as Rudolf Steiner said in one of his Class Lessons, but by no means only there. Ita Wegman was an original esotericist and at home in spiritual life, as Count Polzer-Hoditz emphasized, and as Emanuel Zeylmans van Emmichoven pointed out in detail decades later. But her spirituality was open and directed to the world; indeed, it was permeated by the world. Wegman emphatically supported an anthroposophical continuing-education course for unemployed people from the Ruhr area who came to Arlesheim and Dornach in May 1933 via the Essen Workers’ School run by the priest Carl Stegmann.

On May 8, 1933, she wrote to the Jewish anthroposophist, writer, and violin teacher Alice Wengraf (who was murdered in Auschwitz in 1944): “Thirty unemployed people are here in Dornach-Arlesheim at the moment, who were at Stegmann’s Workers’ School in Essen, worked there throughout the winter, and were prepared for anthroposophy. Now they are here at the Goetheanum and have taken courses from all Sections, including ours. We are currently working on this specifically, and it is really very beautiful work because these people have a remarkably good relationship with anthroposophy and are also able to judge world events well and with an open mind. There are many Germans here now; many who no longer have work in Germany or no longer want to be there have now sought and found refuge in various other countries. Many of our anthroposophical friends are also among them.” To her Dutch colleague Willem Zeylmans van Emmichoven, Wegman also mentioned the course for the unemployed from the Ruhr area, emphasizing their political judgment: “There are really some very fine people among them who also know exactly what attitude to take in Germany at the moment” (April 28, 1933).

Her own attitude toward the emerging regime in Germany was decisive and far-sighted, as she already let it be known in her letter to Dunlop; nevertheless, her rescue plans did not get very far in her surroundings at the time. Her energetic attempt to relocate many important anthroposophical initiatives from Germany to Great Britain in 1933 failed, even though she and her friends were able to help refugees get there until the end of the 1930s, including Karl König and his Jewish group in 1938/39. Nevertheless, what Ita Wegman had described in a letter to a colleague there on July 9, 1933, did not become possible in Great Britain as a whole: “But it seems to me that we must risk everything to build up a very strong center in England, so that from there we can revive true anthroposophy without compromise. A Michaelic impulse must come from somewhere to beat the nationalism that is trying to take hold everywhere. Of course, it was intended that this Michaelic impulse should stream out from here, from Dornach, but as I see it, there is no place for that here. And so, we must try—at least I must do so—to revive Michaelic impulses somewhere else.”

With her will to keep pace with the “great strides of the times,” Wegman did not always find an ear, even among her “own” ranks. When, many years later, the Sonnenhof in Arlesheim rejected her request to become, with the help of the Red Cross, a place for traumatized children and young people from war zones—because the senior staff felt they had to concentrate on their core tasks in the field of curative education—she reacted with disappointment and, from Ascona on August 20, 1942, she wrote to Helen Eugster: “By granting admission to children affected by war, we will not lose sight of our task in curative education; on the contrary, it is precisely what is needed to do this, and if one does not see this, one is not keeping with the great strides of the times. You can be certain that I will not take the small step but will keep pace with the great strides.”

She kept pace with these “great strides”—maybe her unexpected departure from the Earth a half a year later, on March 4, 1943, at only 67 years old and after only a brief illness, was part of the “great strides.” “When no more spiritual work is possible in the near future, I will die,” she said days before her death.3

Ita Wegman (right), undated. Photo: IWA

The Ecological Destiny of Humanity

She had an eye and a trained judgment not only for major political developments, but also for the conditions of the Earth in general, including ecological challenges—and spoke of a new relationship between humanity and the Earth. In 1929, she wrote in one of her essays: “Modern humanity has begun to cover the whole Earth through transportation and communication. It has thus, essentially and outwardly, taken complete possession of it. With this, something arises for modern humanity that has never existed before: a relationship of destiny with the Earth as a whole. This relationship will always have to be consciously surveyed. While antiquity imposed only very limited responsibility on human beings and left the governance of the world to the gods, the humanity of the eighteenth century believed that it had to take responsibility for at least the social sphere. This humanity no longer thought of nature as divine but as still governed by laws that were independent of human beings. Most recent times have brought with them technology and the mastery of natural forces. Thereby, humans have become responsible for a part of nature. It will not be long before humans see this responsibility increasing more and more. Natural processes and historical events, which were initially sharply separated, are beginning to merge more and more. In ancient times, this was only the case in isolated instances. The magnificent Renaissance city of Venice stands upon wooden piles in the sea, which once covered the mountains of Dalmatia as a forest. The deforestation of this forest caused an increasing climate shift. What can be seen in this small example will be realized on a larger scale in the future. This new relationship with nature also applies to the human being. The educator and the physician see themselves confronted with a piece of nature in what can be referred to as heredity. Consciously reshaping it is becoming more and more their task. Were humanity to neglect to do this, it would soon be confronted with natural phenomena that it itself has caused but does not know it has caused. Phenomena would occur for which no explanation could be found. Nature, which up through today seemed to be governed by eternal laws, would apparently fall into confusion. We are, in fact, standing directly on the threshold of this world situation. Nature is becoming a mirror of chaotic human behavior. This is evident in catastrophes and abnormalities. Human beings see them in the mirror of nature without knowing that it is their own reflection.”4

Individual Patients and the “Unlived Life”

As much as Ita Wegman was able to expand her thinking and her entire being out to the widths, she also turned her attention to the concrete, individual patients entrusted to her care. “For her, everyone was equal. Whether she was caring for a disabled child, a screaming madman, a Prussian general or an English count, a young doctor or a medical student, a nurse, a gardener, or a beggar—she spoke to everyone in the same way: like a sister to her brother” (Karl König).5 Even when affluent patients co-financed the Arlesheim Clinic, Wegman’s sociomedical approach was trailblazing. “It is never my opinion to run an institution that is only there to heal those who have paid well, and then leave the others in a stitch,” she wrote to Elisabeth Dank, the managing director of her Gnadenwald sanatoriums. The well-off should help pay for those without means.

For her, each individual human being was meaningful, with their “own tone” and “color image,” as Rudolf Steiner put it in a meditation that she spoke every morning at the end of her spiritual work with the Arlesheim nurses.6 She enjoyed people, the diversity of humanity in the world, and human beings as personalities and individuals, in the different colors of their being. She lived an affirmation of humanity and the human, and focused on development, on the possibilities of becoming, of the becoming of the individual in the becoming world. She had the capacity to live with knowledge in this mobile world of becoming, with organs of expanded and deepened perception, and the necessary courage to do so. Rudolf Steiner had spoken of this in her presence—according to Steiner, one must have the courage to “be able to knowingly comprehend human beings and nature in their flow” in order to gain the “inner assurance” that makes therapeutic activity possible.7 She was—in her entirely unique way—an extraordinary agile “Goetheanist,” and she had the willingness called for by Steiner to completely “rethink” the field of healing arts, to actually undertake the “complete re-creation of medical knowledge” on the basis of this “rethinking.” He attested to her “inspired medical knowledge” and “intuitive therapeutic impulses.”8

Revised plans for the wooden house, August 1924. Photo: IWA

She set her sights on the process of development, on becoming, even in situations that appeared nearly hopeless, and she was remarkably impartial, without moral or other prejudices, even toward seriously ill addiction patients (such as Eliza Leszczyńska from Kraków).9 “My will strengthens / in my legs, arms, heart, head / I want everywhere / to gather force.”10 “The human form is necessarily sacred to man,” Johann Gottlieb Fichte once emphasized.11 Madeleine van Deventer described Ita Wegman’s strong “faith,” her willful connection with the therapies she applied and with her patients, her spiritual will. According to van Deventer, the “deepest force” of Wegman’s “strong soul” was the “force of faith.” “‘When you believe that the mountain standing before you should fall into the sea, and you have reality in your faith, it will fall into the sea.’ With these words, Christ instilled the force of faith as an impulse in the souls of his disciples. Faith in the sense of trust. It is the active mental picture that can make our moral thoughts real. This power of faith—as the strongest power of the soul—is of utmost significance in the present, where the human soul is threatened with destruction.” “Through this, what at first seems impossible can ultimately be realized” (Deventer).12

Wegman was concerned with connecting the will with the world of becoming, with opening up possibilities for becoming. Wilhelm Hufeland, who was at times the physician of Goethe and Schiller, wrote: “One who no longer hopes also no longer thinks [. . .], and the sick must necessarily die because the helper has already died.”13 Hufeland called hope a conditio sine qua non of thinking, at least in a therapeutic context, and there is much to suggest that Wegman shared his view. “You know, courage is what surrounds us everywhere. Air is an illusion; it is courage that surrounds us everywhere. If we want to live in the world in which we breathe, we need courage,” said Steiner in a course for medical students and young doctors.14

Ita Wegman lived courageously “in the world” and, guided by the Representative of Humanity, the Act of Consecration of Man, and the Foundation Stone Meditation, she tried to connect with her becoming, indeed to become “one”: “to unite / one’s own ‘I’ / with the world ‘I’. . . .” According to von Deventer, Wegman’s presence was a blessing for seriously ill or even dying patients. Her closeness dispelled fear of death and unrest. “You must always think that every draw of breath upon the Earth is significant and do everything possible to ensure this. Until the last draw of breath, destiny can still turn,” she said to the young curative educator Julie Wallerstein, who accompanied her seriously ill colleague Leopold Sparr from Sonnenhof to the clinic.15

In the case of Leopold Sparr, this was not possible, or only on a different plane. However, many patients at Ita Wegman’s clinic could be healed or at least supported, somatically, soulfully, and, at times, even spiritually. A stay at the Clinical Therapeutic Institute often meant a turning point in life, a deep intake of breath. Van Deventer emphasized that Ita Wegman’s “courage to heal” was also evident in her capacity and willingness to help “order” the destiny of patients, to help human beings “find a way out of illness and error by starting a new life.” “She could [. . .] shake people up, to break free from narrow earthly circumstances and turn their gaze to greater tasks, and she helped thereby to get a stagnant destiny, which is so often the cause of illness, flowing again. Courage belongs to the Michaelic work.” “With this work of courage, she opened the way for Michael into medicine” (Deventer).

In the twentieth century, the Heidelberg neurologist and internist Professor Viktor von Weizsäcker attempted to draw attention once again to the potentially pathogenic principle of “unlived life” in medical thinking. According to this principle, it is not only the life led in a certain way and traced back in the doctors’ anamneses that brings people into crises of body and soul, but also their unfulfilled life plans, their effective, developing intentionality, which cannot unfold in the given mode of existence. Not only can the life that has been lived be harmful, but also the unlived, missed, perpetually desired but unfulfilled existence. “Man becomes what he becomes through the thing he makes his own,” emphasized Karl Jaspers. According to Madeleine van Deventer’s testimony, Ita Wegman was a person who could encourage others to realize their destined tasks. If we follow van Deventer’s and Rudolf Steiner’s thoughts and spiritual perspectives, medicine in the present and future, in the twentieth century and in the times to come, needs Michael’s impact, indeed, more than ever before, at a time when the human soul is “threatened with destruction.”

Confronting the Abyss

On November 3, 1917, Rudolf Steiner spoke of how dealing with the “problem of evil” would be the central challenge of the twentieth century, a problem that would have to be “solved” on an epochal scale, saying among other things: “We [. . .] have to solve, in the broadest and most vital sense, what can be called the problem of evil. I bid you to keep this firmly in mind. Evil, which will approach human beings in all possible different forms [. . .], will approach in such a way that they will have to solve scientifically the nature, the essence of evil, that they will have to come to the right relationship in their love and hate with everything that stems from evil, that they will have to fight, to struggle with the resistance of evil against the impulses of the will [. . .].”16

Ita Wegman had to deal with “evil” repeatedly in her life, not only in the form of fascism—and it was not by chance that the most intense period of her collaboration with Rudolf Steiner began on the night of the Goetheanum fire: “One saw Dr. Steiner everywhere, one moment he was on the grounds, which he traversed in all directions, one moment in the Carpentry Workshop, always with a deeply sad and serious expression, without agitation, fully conscious of what had been lost to humanity with this work” (Ita Wegman).17 The Goetheanum had “died away” and anthroposophy had become “homeless,” said Rudolf Steiner; lost was the site “upon which we wanted to build everything that was to happen in Dornach.”18 That night, Ita Wegman stood at Rudolf Steiner’s side. “One can only judge the strength of resistance or moral power in a person by the strength of the attack,” Friedrich Schiller had emphasized in his treatise “On the Pathetic.”19 “The deepest in a person becomes visible in such moments . . . .” Two weeks after the fire, Rudolf Steiner wrote the following lines to Ita Wegman: “Upon spiritual heights / At the edge of the abyss / In ancient times / A turning point in destiny / Found, / Forges the necessity / Never to lose oneself.”20

She owed him a great deal—and he her, “in ancient times, a turning point in destiny” as well as in the years 1923 to 1925. The Michael movement also owed her a great deal. After Rudolf Steiner’s death, however, she was more and more misunderstood and defamed—and in the end, in 1935, she was even expelled from her Goetheanum offices. Great spirits connected with her, such as Daniel Nicol Dunlop, Willem Zeylmans van Emmichoven, and Eugen Kolisko, were also labeled “enemies of the Goetheanum” and had to leave the Society. Dunlop died shortly after, and for years Zeylmans awoke every morning with the thought, “God, let me die now.”21

For Ita Wegman, it was the “ruin of the Christmas Conference.” But after years of painful renunciation and creative resignation, she moved on and continued to mature in her position. On April 10, 1935, a few days before the General Assembly that sealed her expulsion and that of her friends, she wrote to Mathilde Enschedé in Paris, “Spiritual beings have need of nourishment, a spiritual nourishment that only human souls can give them and that can arise from a certain soul disposition that has a selfless willingness to sacrifice. Should souls affirm the difficult trials that come their way, then a good effect can arise for the future. And that, I believe, is the trial we have to pass, and upon which much may depend for the future.” On July 9, 1935, less than three months after the assembly, she informed Count Polzer Hoditz: “For me, things are finally settled. There are so many misunderstandings that I consider it better to let things rest. We all believe we have done what was right. It is more important to look forward now than backward.” Which is what she did—until her death in March 1943.

Seventy-five years later, in 2018, she was fully rehabilitated by the General Assembly of the Anthroposophical Society. In 2026, on the 150th anniversary of her birth, a monograph was published about what she had attempted from April to December 1925, in the nine months after Steiner’s death, in continuation of the Christmas Conference impulse, including the Class Lessons, the Leading Thoughts, and her Section work: Die Zukunft der Hochschule [The future of the School for Spiritual Science]. She lived as an example of so much that was groundbreaking—even to this day.

The Pentecostal Community

When she was in Arlesheim, she liked to live in her modest and beautiful wooden house, a “barracks” (as it was described in the building application from the summer of 1924), together with many coworkers and up to five patients. The rooms were two and a half by three meters in size, and there were two fireplaces and two washbasins in the house. “The essential thing is a new Michaelic community forming itself all over the world,” Ita Wegman emphasized in a letter to Maria Geuter on January 18, 1934. She experienced anthroposophy in the sense of Rudolf Steiner as an inward festival of the resurrection of the human soul and created therapeutic communities with a Pentecostal atmosphere and force for the future. “I have only one clear feeling within me: pull yourself together [. . .], do the work that needs to be done.”22 According to her biographer Emanuel Zeylmans van Emmichoven, Ita Wegman’s being harbors breath, courage, and greatness. She placed herself in the “service of world formation” (R. Steiner).


Conference For Ita Wegman’s 150th birthday: The Courage to Heal, held February 20–22, 2026, in the Carpentry Workshop of the Goetheanum.
Book Peter Selg, Die Zukunft der Hochschule, Briefe und Aufsätze Ita Wegmans, April – Dezember 1925 [The future of the School for Spiritual Science: Letters and essays by Ita Wegman, April–December 1925] (Arlesheim: Verlag des Ita Wegman Instituts, 2026).

Translation Joshua Kelberman
Title image Ita Wegman at the Swiss Jungfrau Pass, 1922. Photo: Ita Wegman Archive, Arlesheim.

Footnotes

  1. Ita Wegman Archive (IWA), Arlesheim. All subsequent quotations from letters by Ita Wegman at the IWA.
  2. See, among others, Peter Selg, Auseinandersetzungen um die Zukunft des Menschen. Rudolf Steiner in Deutschland 1922 [Debates on the future of the human being. Rudolf Steiner in Germany 1922 (Arlesheim: Verlag des Ita Wegman Instituts, 2022).
  3. M. van Deventer, “The Last Days on Earth,” in Memories of Ita Wegman: Published in the Original by the Clinical Therapeutic Institute, Arlesheim, Christmas, 1945 (London: Anthroposophical Publishing Co., 1948).
  4. Ita Wegman, “The Mystery of the Earth,” in The Mysteries (Forest Row, East Sussex: Temple Lodge, 2016), 97f.
  5. Karl König, “Erinnerungen an Ita Wegman” [Memory of Ita Wegman], Mar. 17, 1960. Karl König Archive, Berlin.
  6. Cf. Rudolf Steiner, Briefe und Meditationen für Ita Wegman [Letters and meditations for Ita Wegman] (Arlesheim: Verlag des Ita Wegman Instituts, 2018), 68 f.
  7. Rudolf Steiner, The Healing Process: Spirit, Nature & Our Bodies, CW 319 (Great Barrington, MA: SteinerBooks, 2010), lecture in Arnhem, July 24, 1924.
  8. P. Selg, Der Mut des Heilens. Über Ita Wegman [The courage to heal. On Ita Wegman] (Arlesheim: Verlag des Ita Wegman Instituts, 2017).
  9. On Eliza Leszczyńska and her story, cf. P. Selg, Patienten-Meditationen von Rudolf Steiner [Meditations for patients from Rudolf Steiner] (Arlesheim: Verlag des Ita Wegman Instituts, 2019), 53ff., 190ff.
  10. Rudolf Steiner for Eliza Lesczczyńska, ibid., 53.
  11. Johann Gottlieb Fichte, The Science of Rights; Grundlage des Naturrechts nach Principien der Wissenschaftslehre, trans. A. E. Kroeger (London: Routledge & K. Paul, 1889, 1970), §6, “Corollaria,” p. 125; first published in German, 1797.
  12. Madeleine van Deventer, Autoreferate zu Vorträgen zum 100. Todesjahr Ita Wegmans [Abstracts of lectures on the 100th anniversary of Ita Wegman’s death], IWA, 1976.
  13. Christoph Wilhelm Hufeland, “Die Verhältnisse des Arztes” [The condition of the physician] Hufelands Journal der praktischen Heilkunde [Hufeland’s journal of the practical art of healing], no. 23 (1806).
  14. Rudolf Steiner, Understanding Healing: Meditative Reflections on Deepening Medicine through Spiritual Science, CW 316 (Forest Row, East Sussex: Rudolf Steiner Press, 2013), lecture in Dornach, Jan. 8, 1924.
  15. Werner Pache, Tagebuch. Abschrift [Diary. Transcript], IWA.
  16. Rudolf Steiner, Goethe’s Faust in the Light of Anthroposophy: Volume Two of Spiritual–Scientific Commentaries on Goethe’s Faust, CW 273 (Hudson, NY: SteinerBooks, 2016), lecture in Dornach, Nov. 3, 1917.
  17. Notebook, IWA.
  18. Rudolf Steiner, Das Schicksalsjahr 1923 in der Geschichte der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft [1923: The year of destiny in the history of the Anthroposophical Society], GA 259 (Dornach: Rudolf Steiner Verlag, 1991), transcript of meeting in The Hague, Nov. 18, 1923, p. 665.
  19. Friedrich Schiller, “On the Pathetic,” in Essays (New York: Continuum, 1993); first published in German, 1793.
  20. See footnote 6, p. 76f.
  21. Emanuel Zeylmans, Willem Zeylmans van Emmichoven: An Inspiration for Anthroposophy: A Biography (Forest Row, UK: Temple Lodge Publishing, 2003), 125; first published in German, 1979.
  22. To Fried Geuter, June 5, 1930, IWA.

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