Wednesday, July 24:
R. slept well; he sets to work on the revision of his article. Chance played into his hands the paper on which I stood security with my property for the sum borrowed from the Gera bank; it causes him concern, but I am able to dispel his worries. I work with the children more busily than ever before. An unfortunate farmer writes to R.; so many people turn to him as if he were a god!
In the afternoon R. points out to me on the lawn a tea rose which, as he says, "is as seductive in effect as some sweet poison." I: "Yes, it is rather like the melody of your Flower Maidens." Then he leads me to a pink rose and says, "Here the scent is like something which eludes you when you try to get near it." In the evening anxiety about Fidi: first a cold bath, too long, then too long a walk, he cannot sleep, but my stroking at last sends him off. R. calms me down.
Discussion with R. about Tauler's three enemies of mankind: the Devil, the world, and the flesh. Under Devil R. will admit only malice, pleasure in the misfortune of others; I see it as something which suddenly takes possession of us, makes us quite unrecognizable, destroys our whole nature, ambition in Macbeth, jealousy in women. R. talks with restrained anger about Nietzsche's assumption of our failure here, and the inference he draws that we no longer reflect the needs of our time, whereas in fact the attempt has never been made, for the very reason that those in need of it are poor and helpless.
During such prolonged discussions R. and I feel as if swimming in a broad river; I am happy only when I open my whole heart to him, so that he can enlighten and uplift it! R. observes that it is only while working that he must be alone: "Of course even then you are utterly with and in me, but I cannot allow you to approach me in person."