| Author(s) | Friedrich Engels |
|---|---|
| Written | 6 July 1892 |
ENGELS TO AUGUST BEBEL
IN BERLIN
London, 6 July 1892
Dear August,
Here be I again,[1] as you can see. With my obituary of Schorlem- mer,[2] I enclosed a note to the Vorwärts asking them to send me 12 co- pies ofthat edition — i. e. only the page the thing was in, not all the supplements and such. I need these copies for people in Manchester and for leading chemists over here who ought to know where, outside of chemistry, Schorlemmer's allegiance lay. Needless to say, I have not had a single copy. Would you tell the chaps the note may have been completely overlooked — that important party interests are at stake, and that they should send me what I asked before it is too late and the public over here has turned its attention elsewhere.
The elections here 504 have proved a disappointment for the Libe- rals. So far they have gained 9 votes, i. e. the government's majority has been reduced from 68 to 50 (68 — 9 = 59 TORIES; 0 + 9 Libe- rals = 9; 59 — 9 = 50 at the poll). Yesterday's elections didn't bring them a single gain, but with 25 more votes, the 50 — 25 would be cancelled out by the + 25, and it would be simply splendid if neither the Right nor the Left were to end up with a proper majority. How- ever, the Liberals are likely to obtain a small majority and even that wouldn't be too bad.
Your Bismarck rumpus gets nicer every day 5 ' 6 — the fellow must be quite mad. According to today's telegram he's absolutely intent on getting Caprivi's scalp. Well, we may see some fun. If only our papers weren't always pointing out that it's really a case for the courts! Must we really play the bureaucrat, policeman and public prosecutor like our opponents? Couldn't we, just for once, allow that old, broken- winded jackass Bismarck to make a fool of himself to his heart's con- tent? And wouldn't three days in jug turn him into a martyr? It is al- most beyond belief how ultra-Prussian the chaps are!
The Vorwärts has gone quite insane. Today it says that England, Wales, Scotland, Ireland, the colonies and India are all of them called Great Britain 517! But that name comprises only England, Wales and Scotland — not even Ireland, let alone anything else (the official ti- tle is THE UNITED KINGDOM OF GREAT BRITAIN AXD IRELAND). Are the fellows absolutely intent on making a universal laughing-stock of them- selves and of us?
Downstairs the Witch is contemplating a baby belonging to our former housemaid, and so deeply has she been engrossed for the past two hours in this act of worship that I can't winkle her out to send you her greetings. So unless she turns up at the last minute before the post goes, I shall have to send you and Mrs Julie[3] Philipp Klepsch and Ludwig Siebold my warmest regards all on my own.
Your old friend,
F.E.
[From Louise Kautsky]
The General is only testifying to his own inadequacy for if, as he maintains, the baby-worship went on for two hours, he must have spent a full two hours writing the letter; an interpretation more flattering to me would be that, even though it was you he was writing to, the time seemed so long to him. However that may be, the child has gone, as you see, so that I can myself send my love to Mrs Julie who, of you three, is certainly best able to understand the attraction exerted by children. Same to you.
The Witch
[From Engels]
How fanciful of the Witch to say (as she does) that I have spent two hours writing this letter. I was doing a very difficult legal task for Schorlemmer's executors[4] on the subject of his literary estate, while she was giving the baby her fingers to suck. So it must have sucked away all her wits!
[From Louise Kautsky]
I've never heard the likes of it—the baby's sucking from my finger the wisdom which enabled the General to write his legal piece — blessed is he who believes.
[From Engels]
She has to have the last word.
Nichevo.[5]
[From Louise Kautsky]
Written word.
[From Engels]