Monday, December 27:
R. dreamed that the Queen of Prussia declared herself to him to be his mother! “Justice is a precious word, lust is not to be deterred,” he suddenly exclaims at lunch, laughing. Yesterday he listened to the conversation of some people in the beer house: villages becoming destitute, no one willing to work, the Jews are buying up woodlands and cattle, they raise the prices, everything goes to ruin!
R. feels very disgusted with the composition for America, says it is not worthy of him! Bitter feelings against Bismarck. Dependent entirely on Feustel and a few young people! “If it turns out well,” R. says, “you and I will have nothing but sobs and tears, for we have suffered too much; if it turns out badly, we will be upheld by vexation and pride.” Oh, God, if only I could help!
In the evening read Grimm’s legends and Semper’s pamphlet on architectural styles.