Monday, January 6:
In the night thought much again about the nature of art, in consequence of Prof. N.’s forewords; R. dreamed that King Ludwig II had been shot dead. He tried to find me in order to tell me, could not find me, was bitten by an angry dog, comforted himself with the thought that it was Louis-Philippe who had been shot, since he had often enough been the target, then woke up, still not entirely well. (I note that the Lerchenfelds have not returned our New Year’s greetings - probably on instructions from higher up.) Loldi today went to school for the first time!
Yesterday evening R. read us the rules of the mastersingers’ art as laid down in Wagenseil’s book - remarkable how R. extracted all the essence for his own work, leaving out the peculiarities and using only what was most characteristic. He said, “The names must all be genuine, invented ones are valueless.” Around noon drove with R. and Richter to the building site; indescribable impression! It is like a path to the underworld, or the foundations of an Egyptian temple! And then the charming, peaceful surroundings. Lunch with Richter, in the evening with the Feustels, very pleasant, even if to me it still seems a somewhat strange world. Return home by moonlight.