R. has received a letter from Herr Ullmann regarding Lohengrin in London, and recommending the famous [Kristina] Nilsson. — R. says, “If only all these influential connections did not fill one with disgust!” …
He felt like a ghost, he said, when he was among singers—their conversation, their amusements so alien to him. —
Rus is clipped for the first time—the poor creature is perhaps rescued for us by this. Read an article about the Fratres della MisWicordia in Florence, and, greatly moved by it, I mention it to R. He gives me a dissertation on the importance and significance of the religious orders, how proper manners—which when applied to the lower classes are always tainted by irony in the upper classes—are at home there, the appearance of curiosity at least laid aside. “I could wish for nothing better than that our civilian society should be divided into orders.”
During the day R. arranges his library, in the evening he works on Götterdämmerung and is pleased with J. Rubinstein’s talent. Because of a headache I have to forgo the pleasure of listening.
During the night I dreamed of Marie Muchanoff, she looked beautiful and was indescribably kind to me, showed me a letter to her daughter, was alive, yet spoke of being dead. Strange how one can so miss a person whom one so seldom saw! . . . Friend Feustel inquires about Frau v. Schleinitz’s lottery, since lo to 12,000 florins will be needed here in the fall if embarrassment is to be avoided! —
Today Fidi made his first big outing—he walked all by himself to Herr Feustel’s house, delivered a message in excellent style, and returned home with the greatest assurance. —
R. spoke recently of the heresy of the Marcionites, which consisted in recognizing a primal being who was neither completely good nor completely evil; admiration for this sensible form of cognition.