| Author(s) | Karl Marx |
|---|---|
| Written | 19 January 1874 |
Dear Wenceslas
Engels gave your letter to me. Hence these few lines. After my return a carbuncle broke out on the right cheek, which was operated on; then it had several smaller successors and I think that at the present moment I am suffering from the last of them.
For the rest, don't worry at all about newspaper gossip; still less answer it. I myself allow the English papers to announce my death from time to time, without giving a sign of life. Nothing annoys me more than to appear to be supplying the public with reports of my state of health through my friends (you are the greatest sinner in this respect). I don't give a farthing for the public, and, if my occasional illness is exaggerated, it at least has this advantage, that it keeps away all sorts of requests (theoretical and otherwise) from unknown people in every corner of the earth.
My best thanks for the kind words from the lady countess and Fränzchen.
I am very glad to receive the Frankfurter Zeitung and find many interesting things in it.
The relative victory of the ultramontanes[1] and social-democrats in the elections serves Mr Bismarck and his middle-class tail right. More another time.
Yours
KM
À propos: On the advice of my friend, Dr Gumpert[2] (Manchester), I now use quicksilver ointment at the first trace of carbuncle irritation and find that it works quite specifically.
What has happened to your friend, 'Dr Freund', of Breslau, who in your opinion was so promising? It seems, après tout, que c'est un fruit sec.[3]