Sunday, April 25:
A good night and an early walk for R.; he accuses himself of being lazy, doing nothing! I write the letter to Herr v. Bürkel and R. thinks it good, just laughing at me for still making mistakes (datives and accusatives).
While talking yesterday about the 9th Symphony, which is to be performed in Meiningen in the fall, R. says it is curious that this work, not so well proportioned in its form, should have become so popular and, when I reply that people want sublimity rather than serene perfection, he replies, “Yes, they prefer ‘Wotan’s Farewell’ to Beckmesser’s serenade.”
Visitors in the afternoon, among them the gentlemen from the Conservatoire, to whom R. describes the state of music in Germany. In the evening our friends Stein and Liechtenstein, returning from the outing in Amalfi, make all kinds of reports. When they have all gone, R. and I stroll on the terrace; Vesuvius is putting forth its rays, the flowers spreading their fragrance, the moon shining, and we can enjoy all of this together!