Friday, November 15:
R. had a good night, and he goes to his work; at lunchtime he fetches me and says he has a riddle for the children: What animals are always having picnics? Hens, because they picken [peck] and nicken [nod] at the same time! Lovely sunny day. R. goes for a walk; after the “panther” has been laid in my room, I arrange the “butterfly,” to R.’s surprise and delight.
We continue our conversation from yesterday about the English language and Shakespeare; R. says Italian was undoubtedly more suited to Dante’s genius than English to Shakespeare’s.
In the evening we read Anti-Goeze (after taking much delight in the children, particularly in Fidi’s intelligence, with R. playing “Königsmord und Eduard” to them with ornamental flourishes). But we think we shall not be able to continue it: “The main point is never discussed, the root never touched on,” R. says. “I must admit that Renan was the first to have got a bit closer to the point, but only a bit, he didn’t recognize God, either.” “It may be that our present-day criticism will succeed in showing Christ in a pure light, for how much in the Gospels has still to be abstracted!” “I shall really have to put my theology in writing one day,” he says, half jestingly, half in earnest, or rather, changing from earnestness to jest.