I am again confined to my bed and am now a completely useless member of the family! — I ask R. to bring me Woodstock, and he is glad that I wish to read it, saying, “I was thinking only recently that history is only enjoyable in the hands of an artist such as W[alter] Scott; otherwise it is the dreariest, most forbidding thing possible.” —
R. has been much distracted from his work today and has decided to write the last page tomorrow. And so it is: the last thing written in the old house is ‘‘bei des Speeres Spitze,” and in connection with this R. remarks that there will never again be those religious states of mind in which every object is held sacred, every deed dedicated to the gods.