Tuesday, March 12:
Last night I wrote an article for the Blätter. R. laughs: 'We're always doing the same thing.' He works on his, while I give the children their lessons. He comes to lunch in a very cheerful mood: 'I've now got into my stride and only hope that nothing comes to disturb me.'
In the afternoon I read some of Goethe's Zahme Xenien with great enjoyment. R. could find no proper afternoon rest and soon went out into the garden. Before supper in the evening he reads aloud to me and the Wolzogens his article, 'Modern,' which is truly unique. Before beginning, he says, 'Such things ought not to be read aloud, the sound doesn't matter, they're for the eye.' Several applications for the Society of Patrons, mainly from Riga!
In the evening Waverley; the hero reminds one in character and outlook of Wilhelm Meister. Splendid episode with Waverley's dying tenant. The melancholy of having stepped outside the world of law and order to follow one's own inclinations is very clearly revealed at the outset of the action, without being given direct expression. Another lovely day brought to an end. Oh, may the children retain their memories of this life, and may they form a shield for them against the vulgar world!
The Pretender's single cannon reminds R. of the three little cannons a manufacturer sent the revolutionaries in Dresden, and with what cheers they received these artillery weapons which were designed only to fire joyous salutes! After reading, R. plays me a melody with two different turns: 'Which is better?' 'I prefer the first one.' 'I know what I shall do,' he exclaims later as he is undressing. 'What?' 'I shall use them both.'