| Author(s) | Karl Marx |
|---|---|
| Written | 9 January 1883 |
MARX TO ELEANOR MARX
IN LONDON
[Ventnor,] 9 January 1883
My Dear Good Child,
How kind of you to write to me so often and at such length; however I do not wish TO ENCROACH ON THE VERY LITTLE TREE' TIME YOU HAVE TO DISPOSE OF. I got your letter after I had sent off mine,[1] after my return from an excursion by the sea. I have had no further news from Paris.
Today I was on the point of 'setting forth on foot' again — DESPITE THE NOISE OF THE WIND — when my doctor[2] arrived; he told me I was to stay at home as it was very cold outdoors. He examined me again. All as before, in as much as the catarrh is chronic (hence, too, the persistent hoarseness), though from a 'higher' viewpoint my condition has improved in as much as the critical spots have not been affected in any way. This semi-permanent cough would be tiresome enough, but with the daily vomissements[3] it becomes loathsome. This frequently makes work impossible, though the doctor believes — he still believes AND THAT is SOMETHING! — he can rid me of this torment (with the help of a little remedy he has just prescribed). Qui vivra, verra.[4]
Apropos. SOMEWHERE in my bedroom or my desk there must still be COPIES of my photograph from Algiers in a writing case or some LITTLE BOX or other. If you could find them, you might send me two photogramms. One of them I have promised to forward to Madame Williamson.
Yesterday Mr Meissner sent me his account for 1881; it shows a very slight drop, so there is bound to be a corresponding increase for 1882 as he also wrote saying that he is rapidly running out of copies of Capital. Naturally he is getting impatient about the revised sheets.[5] It is an unconscionable time since he heard from me on the subject. Now he will get some definite news.
Cowen's SPEECH quoad[6] 'EGYPT' is on the same lines as Hyndman's political music of the future, English style. These groaning bourgeois (and even Cowen is a bourgeois in this respect), these poor British bourgeois, who groan as they assume more and more 'RESPONSABILITIES' in the service of their historic mission, while vainly protesting against it — and can even Cowen himself help smirking over the entrancing little prospect of all those fortified offensive positions between the Atlantic and the Indian Ocean and, INTO THE BARGAIN, an 'African-British Empire' from the Delta to the Cape? Very naice! In fact there could be no more blatant example of Christian hypocrisy than the 'conquest' of Egypt—conquest in the midst of peace! Even Cowen, and he is certainly the best of the English parlementaires,[7] secretly admires this 'heroic exploit'; 'THE DAZZLE OF OUR MILITARY PARADE'. POOR Cowen! He is a typical British 'BOURGEOIS' (on this point); he believes he has done a splendid 'deal', and very cheaply at that; he doesn't even see that the English 'OLD GRAND MAN'[8] is simply the tool of other, non-British smart Alecs in so far as 'policy' plays a part in this event; however Goschen & Co. coolly assumed 'RESPONSABILITY' for the 'HOME' INTEREST.
Cowen has actually become such a prey to superstition that he regards Lord Dufferin as INDEED AN OVERWHELMING DIPLOMATIC GENIUS. But drat the British!
Kiss my grandson[9] for me.
Farewell,
Old Nick