Tuesday, October 18:
Very nice letter to me from Franz Lenbach; I am always gratified at having recognized him long before he was famous, and at having recommended him (though in vain) to the King of Bavaria.
R. has a letter from a Herr Fiege in Berlin, who tells him about the difficulties he encountered in placing some articles about Die Meistersinger in various newspapers. Small birthday gift to Loulou from her aunt. The newspaper publishes an article by Gregorius about the encampment at Metz; this gives us a vivid picture of the wonderful Prussian talent for organization. “What would Europe be without this Prussian strength?” R. exclaims. “Without this despised little corner, from which no one expected anything, but which has been getting itself prepared, so to speak, ever since the fall of the Hohenstaufens? Because its soil is sandy and unproductive, the people there have to rely on the strictest order, and it is this order which has led to the miracle of provisioning 600,000 men. Where would Germany be without Prussia? For that reason it is understandable that they do not wish to give up their Prussianness, for they can really say they do not know what Germany means.”
Loulou sends the letter to her grandpapa, she is still unwell.
I am full of grief; our dear old Fritz has now been sacrificed, he had become completely incapacitated and he was ill, now he has been put to death. We do not speak of it in the house, but I feel as if I have committed a sin in recognizing and approving the need for a death. R. goes for a very long walk; the weather is glorious; I remain with Loulou and put the summer things away. In the evening Don Juan, which we are now discontinuing. We discuss the contrast with Aristophanes; compared with the Briton, how naive and full of genius the Greek—not a poet, but a dramatist, and above all a musician.
Capture of Soissons by the Germans. R. dreamed of a friendly conversation with Moltke; we were both of the opinion that to such a person there is really nothing one could say, and people like us would be greatly embarrassed, were we to try to express our feelings to him. “Only the proclamations of a whole nation can do that,” says R. I: “And a king.” “Yes,” R. says, “and that is why nations have instinctively chosen to place themselves under a select being, who must sacrifice a large part of his freedom in order to be able to speak when necessary for the whole community.”