| Author(s) | Friedrich Engels |
|---|---|
| Written | 22 February 1888 |
ENGELS TO FRIEDRICH ADOLPH SORGE[1]
IN ROCHESTER
London, 22 February 1888
Dear Sorge,
I must in all honesty confess that, from the start, I hardly thought it possible you would be able to stick it out in that small provincial town.[2] I can think of no greater misfortune for a civilised man who has come of age in a big movement than to be relegated to some such remote hole after living for years in a metropolis. Well, I'm glad you have made up your mind. It will make the remaining few months more tolerable for you.
I am undergoing treatment for my eyes—the eye specialist said 'there was nothing the matter with them', but that care would be necessary during treatment. More easily said than done—when I'm being badgered from all sides by dozens of people demanding German, English, Italian, etc., work of me—all of it urgent!—and at the same time urging me to edit Volume III of Capital. All very well, but it's the chaps themselves who prevent me from doing so.
At all events, a long-standing wish of yours is to be fulfilled in the next few days: the Manifesto is being brought out in English over here by Reeves. Translated by S. Moore,[3] revised by us both, preface by me.[4] Have already read the first proofs. As soon as I get copies I shall let you have two, one of them for the Wischnewetzkys. For Reeves is paying S. Moore a royalty for author's rights, and since it was I who concluded the contract, I cannot be directly involved in getting it pirated in America. Otherwise Reeves could declare that this constituted a breach of contract, and poor Sam Moore wouldn't get anything. But obviously I neither could nor would prevent its being pirated. After all, did not Reeves pirate my preface to the Condition of the Working Class[5]
Aveling is getting a couple of plays produced and, if all goes well, will extricate himself from his journalistic misère![6] He and Tussy are due here shortly; they are dining with me as Aveling has a meeting not far from here. At Christmas the Lafargues moved to Le Perreux, beyond Vincennes, 20 minutes from Paris by train, and are amusing themselves doing rural tasks. The Socialiste has died yet again.[7] The workers of Paris don't want to read a weekly. Vaillant is acquitting himself famously in the Municipal Council; he was much in evidence during the presidential crisis[8] when the menacing attitude of the workers prevented the election of Ferry. He will be the guiding light of the next provisional government provided it's not too long in coming.
Bebel and Singer have inflicted a formidable defeat on the Prussians over the Anti-Socialist Law.[9] For the first time the whole of Europe has had to pay attention to our people in the Reichstag. You will have read the text of Bebel's speech in the Gleichheit—a masterpiece in which he excelled himself.[10]
I hope it won't come to war, though this would mean that all the military studies which those very rumours of war have forced me to take up again will have been done in vain. The odds are as follows: Thanks to long years of universal military service and education, Germany can mobilise between 2½ and 3 million trained men and provide them with officers and NCOs. France not more than 1¼ to 1½ million. Russia barely 1 million. At worst Germany is a match for them both in terms of defence. Italy can raise and sustain 300,000 men. Austria roughly 1 million. Thus, as far as war on land is concerned, the odds are in favour of Germany, Austria and Italy, while the war at sea will be determined by Britain's attitude. It would be splendid if Bismarck were to be forced to cut away his own stay and support, Russian tsarism!
War or no war, everything is heading for a crisis. The state of affairs in Russia can't go on very much longer. The Hohenzollerns are done for, the Crown Prince[11] is mortally ill, his son,[12] a cripple and insolent young guardee.[13] In France the downfall of the exploiters' bourgeois republic looms ever closer; as in 1847, scandals threaten to bring about a révolution du mépris.[14] And in this country the masses are coming increasingly under the sway of an instinctive socialism which still, I am glad to say, resists definite formulation in accordance with the dogma of this or that socialist organisation, and hence will accept it all the more readily when something crucial happens. All that is needed is for the fun to begin somewhere or other, and the bourgeoisie will be dumbfounded by the hitherto latent socialism which will then vent itself and become manifest.
Your old friend,
F. Engels