Friday, January 29:
R. despondent on account of the hopelessness of Glatz. “I need savages,” R. says, “not cultivated barbarians.” I write to Baron Normann to inquire about a tenor, Herr Schwab, who has approached us.
I am now reading Lessing’s Nathan der Weise with the children and once more find much of it very moving; the voice of Assad, which rests in Saladin’s soul, moves me particularly. One forgets the voice of the dead, but it can be recalled. Truth, paid out like a coin in the monologue of Nathan, reminds one of the businesslike attitude of the Jews toward their God.
Conference regarding a restaurant to be built, one difficulty after another, but R. is still satisfied with the people on his management committee. In the evening read Gfrorer’s book.