Wrote some letters, much catching up to be done! Friend Niemann to lunch, R. very worn out, but rallies to defend Schiller, on whom N. cast aspersions, and also to impart to the sceptic his feelings about immortality.
When he asks him whether in his enthusiasm for the beautiful he has never had a sense of something eternal, of something which has nothing in common with this world, the talented, if still very crude, artist is affected and becomes thoughtful. — In the evening made a little music, tried Siegmund, then Tristan (2nd act). Oh, this music which loosens bonds, pulls down barriers, this purest, most ethereal of arts, which liberates the soul and frees one from the body—in it I feel the blessedness of death, of liberation!
Thought about Marie Muchanoff…