Saturday, November 22:
A heap of activities prevented my writing every day, and so I have forgotten various things. R. tells us that the vivisectionist Schiff has had to leave Florence.
In the evening we have Rub. and friend Wolzogen with us; R. shows us König’s book on literature, which he is keeping to give Lusch at Christmas on account of its nice pictures; we look through it with great interest, but unfortunately we are beset by gloom at the end, when we see what our modern poets look like - Freiligrath, Uhland, Rückert! R.’s walk does not seem to have agreed with him.