Saturday, March 5:
R. says to me in the morning, 'At times I become very much aware of the problem of existence, the problem on which everything depends, and which is the very essence of Christianity.' That leads us to Brahmanism, in which, R. says, hardly any traces of benevolence can be found. We read Count G.'s work together - that is to say, he early in the morning and I around midday. After I have made him compresses and he is going off to his work, we linger at the top of the stairs, talking about the Count's views on civilization and Christianity. R. laughs at us over coffee and says we are mad!
The palace gardener has sent him a polite reply; R. is pleased and says, 'So you see these people do not regard one merely as trash.' Bismarck's appearance in the Reichstag annoys R. We go for a walk in the palace gardens in spite of the rain.
In the evening he sings a folk song which he finds unutterably moving, then much from the 3rd act of Die Meistersinger, the rich variety of which completely astonishes him.
When we are alone together, we lose ourselves in the remotest regions of religion and philosophy. He still holds out hope of man's regeneration, believes in the establishment of a community, but will hear nothing of it when, speaking of Loldi, I say that I believe she has a leaning toward a withdrawal from the world. Fidi brought home good marks from the Latin teacher.