Friday, March 18:
Not a completely restful, but all the same a tolerable night for R. He reads the newspapers in the morning, and is made uncomfortable by Herr Saint-Saëns’s remarks, since it always offends him when people assume, or pretend to assume, that he is looking for success in Paris. He works. Evchen, who has a cold, is missing from our lunch table!
A supplement to the Bayreuther Blätter (a paper on vivisection) leads R. to talk of life’s dreadfulness, and he concludes with melancholy humor, “One keeps on top of it only through a hotchpotch of ensemble.” Gobineau’s book, which he is now reading, is giving him less pleasure than Jacolliot’s, which he describes as “green pastures.” Springer’s article, with its fine quotations-particularly the idea of Buddha, to which R. especially draws my attention-gives us pleasure.
We go for a walk in the direction of the Konnersreuth highway; the skies are gray, but our mood is cheerful. In the evening our friends are with us; with Feustel R. always starts talking politics. Once again he puts forward his views on Russia and says Tsar A. was the “victim of his own stupidity.” Then we have some music, from Tannhäuser (2nd act). When all have gone, we again experience the pleasure of having each other!