Friday, July 4:
R. had a good night! All the miseries of life overcome in a flash; it matters not at all to me that the sky is overcast. We laugh at the “farmer’s weather,” as it is called here, and also at the cure, which R. is giving up for a while.
In the afternoon he plays passages from the 3rd act of Parsifal. He brings the dreary heavens back to life; the angels who came to Titurel, it is they in whom we believe. Then we stroll in the garden, delight in the roses, except for the yellow ones, which for R. are not roses at all.
R. is still reading C. Frantz with great enjoyment, his only objection being that he is not sufficiently aware of the damaging effect of the Catholic Church on Germany’s development, regarding the Reformation as the prime evil. In the evening whist with Rub.