Friday, January 21:
Letter to R. from Baron Werthern: he did not send the diploma at once, but first sent an inquiry, so as to obtain an autograph from R.; at my request R. writes him a little verse. See notes. R. at his spinning loom, I with my children; R. pleased with his work: "It sounds like the fluttering of night birds; everything depends on impressions of Nature, and here in the Norns' scene I can see the tall fir tree near the rock and hear the nocturnal rustling."
At lunch, in connection with the wine, he tells me about a hunchbacked wine merchant in Königsberg named Tiplowski, in whose cellar he had first encountered the good Château d'[unreadable]. This man had said to him, after a curious excursus on something or other, "Remember that I told you this today, on December 2, on the day Napoleon proclaimed himself emperor, in the Blutgericht." That was the name of the wine cellar, because it stood on the spot where the scaffold had previously stood, in an old castle. Later, when Louis Napoleon introduced his December 2, Richard was always reminded of the hunchback Tiplowski.
Much joy in Fidi, and, gazing on him, R. talks about Nature, which cares only for the species, never the individual, which is why it sometimes makes children so unlike their parents and develops some particular family predisposition; since it is so stupid, it attempts to produce creatures of intelligence. "Here a small instead of a large nose might perhaps help; for it seeks everything in form, which in turn shows us how aesthetic its methods are."
At lunch he says, "Since my union with you I have gained an incredible confidence in myself and my fate; I know I shall live to be old; my life is just beginning." After lunch he plays the Norns' scene to me, an inexpressible delight.
In the evening I show Loulou Genelli's illustrations to Homer; no particular pleasure in them. R. says, "Homer is Homer and Genelli is Genelli"; beauty is lacking. In the evening I feel very unwell; thoughts of my death. Concern for the children.
Listen to me, Lusch and Boni, Loldi, Eva, and Siegfried, should you after my death be divided against and alienated from one another, keep your love intact in your hearts, do not forsake one another, seek one another out again and unite in the memory of your mother; this bond will hold firm, do not forget my warning.
In the evening R. reads me passages from König's Hohe Braut, a very nice novel.