# Karl Marx: The Man and His Work/3

THIRD LECTURE
Workingmen and Workingwomen:
THE beginning of the last half of the nineteenth century witnessed in the principal European countries and also the United States an unparalleled growth and development in the capitalist system of production. It was the period in which the gigantic cotton industry in the North of England was unable to procure enough human flesh for absorption and transmutation into surplus value; it was the period in which the northern part of the Western Hemisphere was ravaged by a gigantic civil war, waged to decide the question whether the semi-feudal Southern aristocracy or the, comparatively speaking, progressive and impatient capitalist class of the industrial North should henceforth dictate the political policy and economic and social course of the Union; it was the period in which the gradually awakening Muscovite Empire, through the at least nominal emancipation of the serfs, created its first large armies of modern industrial and agrarian proletarians, and thereby proclaimed to the world the definite collapse of feudalism and the ascendancy of capitalism in Russia; it was the period in which the question of political and economic unity was becoming an ever greater problem and necessity to the general progress of the German States, and also the crying demand of the hour in torn and disunited Italy; in other words: it was the period in which the national units of capitalist production became conscious of their interests, and also began to look with envy upon the colonial possessions and the consequent imperialistic domination of England; it was the beginning of the great battle of capitalist national units for international supremacy—a struggle whose culmination is vividly illustrated by the present Great War. In the sixties and seventies of the last century, of course, the indications for a large era of imperialism were as yet only mildly perceivable. As stated before, countries like Germany, the United States and France were still occupied ​with the development, organization and exploitation of their national resources or the reformation of their political institutions, in other words: the modern capitalist mode of production was still in its infancy—in its embryonic state.
However, one historic fact loomed forth portentously in all these countries, namely: that in proportion as the capitalist mode of production slowly cast off its swaddling clothes and grew into a vigorous specimen, so the class-consciousness of the exploited masses showed signs of awakening and development. Indications of a growing unrest amongst the workers were visible everywhere. In England the remnants of the Chartist organization were ably assisting in the building up of the trades-unions; factory legislation, regulating the hours of employment and particularly child labor, was the first direct product of this agitation and growing consciousness. In Germany Ferdinand Lassalle was sounding the tocsin of proletarian action along class lines; and in France the activity of the workers' organizations, particularly in Paris, Lyons and other industrial centers, clearly betrayed an ever growing spirit of working-class solidarity.
This growing solidarity amongst the workers was stimulated and urged on to a more concrete manifestation, through the growing friendship and fraternal relations between the capitalists of various countries, an illustration of which was given at the second Universal Exhibition, held in London in 1862. This exhibition brought together a large number of business men and manufacturers from every nook and corner of the globe. And here, at receptions and banquets, the acquaintances were developed and the relations between the exploiters of the world solidified to such an extent that the exhibition became to be known amongst workingmen as the "International of the bourgeoisie." The supplement to this "International" was born, when on September 28th, 1864, workers' representatives from England, France, Germany, Poland and Italy gathered in St. Martin's Hall, London, and upon the proposal of the French ​delegate, M. Le Lubez, organized the proletarian expression of international solidarity under the name of the International Workingmen's Association—the first International.
Karl Marx actively participated in the preliminary work necessary for the calling of the conference. As the corresponding secretary for Germany, he was at the same time a member of the committee elected to draw up the constitution, programme or platform, etc, also to which the temporary management of the young organization's affairs was entrusted. Needless to say, the drafting of the association's declaration of principles and constitution was quite a delicate and complicated matter, and necessitated a thorough knowledge of working-class conditions in the different European countries. Furthermore, at that early state of capitalist development, relatively speaking of course, the programme of the International Workingmen's Association had to be formulated in such a manner as not to collide or be of hindrance to the different countries in their various stages of capitalist evolution. Under such manifold social and political conditions and at this particular period of capitalist development, the functions of the International could be at best only such of an advisory and educational capacity, and their effect in the main of a moral character. The International was to be a permanent or standing manifestation of the international solidarity of the proletariat, and its offices were to be employed to encourage, develop and cement these relations amongst the workers in the different countries wherever possible. Marx knew that only an internationally organized and class-conscious proletariat could hope to cope with and defeat the capitalist class and destroy the capitalist mode of production—an international institution; he also knew that organization and education of the workers would have to go hand in hand with the development of capitalism, if the workers were to achieve their end; he knew that no economic system ever disappeared or was relieved by another system until it had developed all faculties inherent in it; he, therefore, ​knew that tedious pioneer work would have to be done and that the social revolution was not to be accomplished via the route of conspiracy, spontaneous direct action of self-styled "minorities," assassination and bombastic phrase-mongery. Around what programmatic standard was the international proletariat to marshal its forces?
It was Marx who drafted both the constitution and the programme of the International Workingmen's Association, documents which were unanimously adopted by the organization. In the declaration of principles, better known as the "Inaugural Address," Marx outlined a plan of immediate action for the proletariat. This activity formed but "a part," to speak in the words of the "Address," "of the general struggle for emancipation of the toiling classes." The "Inaugural Address" was a child of the "Communist Manifesto." It also called attention to and emphasized the ever growing wealth in the hands of the possessing minority in society, and contrasts this with the ever increasing numbers in the propertyless working class and the increasing misery of this class, underscoring sharply the class antagonism between the exploiters and the exploited—an antagonism which is but the reflex of the economic divisions in capitalist society, divisions that are the original source of the social unrest. The "Inaugural Address" calls upon the workers to rise against misery and exploitation and advises them—fully appreciating the significance of the legal ten-hour day in England—to conduct this struggle via the road of independent political action and constructive, i.e., protective factory legislation; this activity was to be engaged in, however, always with the ultimate aim in view to conquer the political power for the proletariat in order to use the political machinery of the capitalist state to destroy forever all class rule. The document lays special weight upon the necessity of international working-class solidarity, a solidarity out of which an important duty arises, namely: to carefully control the foreign politics of the various capitalist govern​ments, and to protest most emphatically and use all the might at the workers' command, should these politics pursue criminal aims, consciously exploit national prejudices and tend to squander the blood and possessions of the people in wars of conquest. When we read this passage in the light of the present war, then we can about perceive the significance of the warning: a warning which was, however, not heeded because the nationalism generated by the material conditions at the bottom of modern imperialism—understand full-fledged national capitalism—was able to even permeate the working-class movement, becoming for the time predominant in influence, even making international solidarity, ergo the class interests of the proletariat, subservient to its aim.
However, I am disgressing from the subject proper. The principles and tactical suggestions just presented to you can be considered the basic aspirations and the ultimate and immediate aims of the first International at its inception. As the years of experience and constant struggle swept over this yet crude and immature class organization of the international proletariat, the clear-headed thinkers at its head were compelled to admit that the battle of the workers for emancipation was indeed an arduous struggle: a struggle which was inseparably interwoven with the development and perfection of the very system they, the proletarians, were destined to destroy. In the organization and growing class-consciousness of the proletariat is reflexed the organization and growing power of the capitalist system of production; the growth of one social layer compels the growth of the other, and just as intensive life foreshadows an early death, so does this social antithesis portend its culmination in the social revolution.
The process of economic evolution, with its accompanying class manifestations, is, however, as stated before, a tediously slow one. To the individual, conscious of his economic status and aware of the historic role the proletariat is to play in the ​future, social development seems stagnant and society intellectually corrupted or fossilized—dormant. To him the revolution is a mental reality, and could become a material one, if, yes, if, the workers would only see the light and become class-conscious, i.e., would only become Socialists. The individual who reasons in this fashion, and who by the way is by no means a rarity in the movement of to-day, is everything but a Socialist in the Historical Materialistic, that is scientific conception of the term. He is a soaring idealist, who has lost the firm foundation of historical reality and material possibility from under his feet, and who is, consequently, utopistic in his deductions, actions and tactics. The first International, as is also the Socialist movement of to-day, was abundantly blessed, with a large number of these undoubtedly sincere but intellectually ill-balanced comrades. Karl Marx and his followers, perceiving capitalist society through the spectacles of dialectical evolution and Historical Materialism, and seeing in all its manifestations but the logical sign of social development, were bound to collide with the gasconading idealist, who contemplated revolutionizing society via the road of backroom conspiracies and armed uprisings, especially at a time when sporadic prosperity had momentarily blinded the average wage slave to his actual conditions.
This struggle between Historical Materialism and utopian Idealism has been largely recorded by Socialist historians as a personal struggle between Marx and Bakunin for leadership in the International. Such writers are also everything else but Socialist historians, because if their conception were true, then the ghosts of Marx and Bakunin are at this advanced day still seeking to settle their personal quarrel in the Socialist and radical movement, of every modern country on the face of the globe. The struggle between Historical Materialism, ergo scientific Socialism, and utopian Idealism—whether disguised as Opportunism, Impossibilism, Anarchist-Communism, etc, matters not—first took on shape and form in the first International and was led ​by Karl Marx and Michael Bakunin, respectively. It is not to be confused with the intellectual battle and polemics between scientific Socialism and the Utopianism of the French and English schools. As stated before, the intellectual struggle between these two conceptions is still going on in the movement, and will continue to go on until Historical Materialism or the Materialist Conception of History becomes the predominating Conception in society—philosophically as well as socially: an intellectual revolution which we are rapidly approaching and which has its roots in the material conditions of capitalist production. The present world-war, I believe, has been a wonderful schoolmaster in this direction. Never were the interests, class aspirations and economic forces of the ruling classes and their pliable governments more openly exposed, and never have I read and perceived more articles and books, dealing with the economic and social aspects of the war, written and published by bourgeois members of society than since the outbreak of the war. Of course, in the Socialist movement the war has been also a great incentive to study and particularly to delve into the "mysteries" of the foundation of Scientific Socialism—the Materialist Conception of History.
To return to the subject. It cannot be denied, however, that the struggle between Historical Materialism and Utopian Idealism, as personified in Karl Marx and Michael Bakunin, tended gradually to disrupt the already loose form of the International's organization. This falling apart, however, carried within its womb the germs of consolidation and organization along national lines. And it is peculiar how the subsequent course of events furnished additional proof of the soundness of the Marxian method of historical analysis; for is it not indeed a striking coincidence only explainable with the aid of the Marxian key, when we perceive that in all countries with a prominent capitalist physiognomy, Marxism exercised full control in the organization, and in the Latin and chiefly agrarian countries Bakunism side by side with Marxism could be observed.
​Then also capitalism was at this period commencing to carve out its national destiny in countries like Germany, France, Italy, the United States, etc., and in this process a series of so-called national problems was raised: problems, however, that had a disruptive influence and a disintegrating effect upon the International. In this connection I desire to cite the Franco-Prussian War which had resulted in the unification of the various German states and the organization of a powerful capitalist class in Germany. The reaction of the German conquests and annexation of Alsace-Lorraine, and the beastly crushing of the Paris Commune with the aid of Bismarck, had inflamed and aroused the national pride of the French people, and conjured the spectre of "revenge" upon the scene. England's undisturbed conquest of the world's markets, a conquest securely cemented by lucrative colonial possessions, had brought an era of prosperity to the British workers, of course relatively speaking; and the plan of the British imperialists to create a so-called world-empire, of course under the protectorate of Great Britain, a plan that was skilfully advocated by Lord Beaconsfield and that actually turned the heads of quite a few prominent men in the English labor movement, amongst them Joseph Cowen, who had been a strong supporter of the International, created such a spirit of jingoism in England and was productive of a national arrogance, which at this late day only finds its, parallel in certain types of German workers.
These were the conditions and motives which prompted the Congress of the International at the Hague, in 1872, to transfer the seat of the organization's General Council to New York: a decision that in reality and practical effect actually implied the disbandment and the end of the International Workingmen's Association.
As a member of the General Council, Marx remained true to the International to the end. And to him the dissolution of this much-dreaded body implied only the reorganization of the proletarian forces on a larger and more class-conscious scale. The ​"Inaugural Address" and "The Civil War in France" are two historic publications and documents of the International Workingmen's Association of which he is the author, and which are remarkable sign-posts of the proletariat's march to emancipation. They are truly fitting supplements to the "Communist Manifesto." However, no one will ever know the volume of work performed by Marx as the so-called intellectual head of the International. Only a small portion of this activity is available in documents. As a leader, educator and counsellor of leaders, he performed invaluable services, not only while member of the General Council, but up to his death. To one unfamiliar with the conditions, the turbulent and primitive conditions that existed in the early days of the modern labor movement, no adequate conception of the colossal magnitude of this task can present itself. However, it is no exaggeration when I state, and my assertion is based upon the reports of men who for years lived in intimate association with Marx, that it was primarily this daily slew of details, which steadily kept pouring in upon him from every nook and corner of the globe and demanded his time and attention, that prevented him from devoting his undivided energies to the far more important scientific studies. Marx was a most conscientious student and advisor, and could devote days to research, in order to furnish an authentic reply to an inquiry. Aside from the historic causes cited above, here we have a tributary cause responsible for Marx's retirement from leadership in the International—a retirement that fell together with the disintegration of the organization. In just this energy-absorbing phase of Marx's activity we can also locate the reason why on the day of his death, March 14th, 1883, the second volume of "Capital" was still uncompleted, and the material for the third volume had been only collected and fragmentally suggested or roughly sketched in his note book. However, to again quote Klara Zetkin: "The principal work of Marx is comparable to a grand torso of antique art, which even in its mutilated form speaks more impressively ​and enchantingly to our soul than dozens of completed sculptures."
This presentation of the life and Works of Marx would, however, be seriously defective, if no account of Marx's more intimate domestic life would be rendered, i.e., if that phase of life would be omitted which is really the basic element of all social activity—the every-day life. In order to do this intelligently, an understanding of the material conditions or social atmosphere in which he lived and of the characteristics of Marx and his inseparable companions is necessary.
Marx may truly and without indulging in platitudinous exaggerations be celebrated as an ideal type of revolutionist. He was, it is true, primarily a scientist; a scientist, however, who after having reached a definite deduction demanding a certain form of action did not shrink from the duty imposed upon him by scientific investigation and social circumstances, but cheerfully shouldered the task and unflinchingly labored to realize the demands of social evolution. Karl Marx was a true scientist, who did not consider himself a neutral and independent atom of the social organism—an atom that could function without affecting other atoms—but a scientist who through the result of his scientific findings felt himself morally compelled to participate in the reconstruction of society, who became a revolutionist, because he wanted to be and remain a true scientist. In Marx, therefore, the scientific world finds a man, who through his keen analysis and comprehension of social phenomena dedicated his faculties to the cause of the disinherited working-class; because, unlike so many of his contemporaries, he saw in that class the pioneer of all real progress, and also because to him the social interest was of far greater importance than his own material welfare. He was a consistent revolutionist, because he sought to be and remain a consistent scientist. Here we have a gratifying example where theory is supplemented by corresponding action: where a man's conduct squares with his principles. To Marx, ​scientific conviction and unhampered investigation were everything, and with sovereign scorn did he look down upon and treat that so numerous tribe of professorial scribes, who sell these indispensable prerequisites of liberty for the proverbial mess of pottage. And just because Marx was a searching scientist and his scientific findings made out of him a revolutionist, that is why he was ostracized by the class which to-day, by virtue of its economic power, is in control of the institutions of learning: that is why Marx was condemned to battle with the most dire poverty during the greatest part of his life.
To Marx, however, poverty was an incident of secondary importance and considered the legitimate product of a social manifestation of prime significance to him, and that was the movement—his ideal. Marx, like all great men of letters or geniuses, was a poor business man and an absolute failure as an administrator of the practical things in every-day life. To him life seemed to be a medium for the realization of certain aims and the promotion of the social welfare, and not an occasion for the talking of shop, the gratification of petty personal desires and the amassing of wealth, etc.
From the beginning of his exile in London and practically up to his death Marx and his family bore a burden of poverty far heavier and more unbearable than the one carried by the average proletarian family in those days. There were days in the Marx household when the stove was cold, the frost biting, the pantry empty and hunger upon the bill of fare; when the impatient landlord stormed and threatened, and the children's starved faces and beseeching glances seemed to accusingly form themselves into a veritable indictment against their father. These ungratifying, yes, most miserable of miserable conditions pained Marx severely. Not because he feared, or cared for material sufferings; no, Marx passed such vicissitudes of every-day life over with truly noble unconcern. What, however, affected and pained him so deeply was to see his wife, this faithful companion ​of his joyous boyhood days, and his beloved little ones suffer. Marx worshipped his wife and adored his children with a love and adoration that knew no bounds. And, therefore, when two of his daughters and his only son, his little Moosh, succumbed to this pitiful and devitalizing poverty, were, so to speak, sacrificed upon the altar of incorruptible and path-breaking science and to the cause of proletarian and social emancipation, his grief was uncontrollable and laid the foundation for his early and untimely death. From the death of his son, a child who bore the physical curse of poverty from the day of his birth until his death, he never recovered. In order that I may not awaken the feeling of doubt in my auditors or be charged with exaggeration, permit me herewith to quote a letter of Mrs. Marx to Mrs. Weydemeyer, the wife of an intimate friend of Marx residing in New York:
"My dear Mrs. Weydemeyer:
"In answer to your kind letter, which I received this morning, and in order to show you how delighted I was to receive it, I will write you a detailed letter at once, for now I see from your writing that you would like to hear from us, and that you have still preserved the same feelings of friendship as we have done.
"For how would it be possible for such old and tried comrades and friends, to whom Fate has given the same sufferings, the same pleasures, the same happy and sad days, ever to become strangers, though time and the ocean intervene? so I extend my hand to you, as to a brave, true companion inadversity, a fellow struggler and sufferer. Yes, indeed, my dear Mrs. Weidemeyer, our hearts have often been filled with sorrow and gloom, and I can well imagine what you have had to contend with, again lately! I fully realize all you have to contend with, the cares and deprivations, for have I not often suffered the same! But suffering hardships and love gives strength.
"The first years of our life here were bitter ones, but I will not dwell on those sad memories to-day, on the losses we suffered, nor the dear, sweet departed children, whose pictures are engraved in our hearts with such deep sorrow.
"I will write of a newer period of our life rather, which, despite much sadness, has nevertheless, brought us many bright gleams of happiness.
​"In 1856 I travelled to Trier with my three remaining daughters. My dear mother was overjoyed at our arrival, but, unfortunately, the joy was doomed to be of short duration. The most faithful, the best of mothers became ill and, after suffering for eleven days, closed her dear, tired eyes, her last glance resting fondly upon the children and me. Your dear husband, who knew what a loving mother she was, can best estimate my grief. We laid the dearly beloved body in its last resting place, and left Trier, after having settled the little legacy of my dear mother, dividing this equally between my brother Edgar and myself.
"Up to this time we had lived, in London, in two miserable rooms. We were now enabled, by means of the few hundred thalers my dear mother had left me, despite all the sacrifices she had made for us, to furnish a little house for ourselves, not far from the beautiful Hampstead Heath, and which we are still occupying. (As the translator of the "Woman in White," you will probably recall this name.)
"It is, truly, a princely dwelling, compared with our former narrow holes, and although the furnishing of the whole house cost us but forty pounds ('second-hand rubbish' playing the leading role) we felt quite 'high-toned,' possessing, as we did, a parlour. All the linen and other remnants of former greatness were now redeemed from the hands of the 'Uncle,' and it was a joy to me to be able to count my damask napkins of old Scotch origin once more. This grandeur, however, was of short duration, for soon afterward, one piece after the other had to wander back to the "Pop House" (as the children call the mysterious Three-Balls shop). Yet it gave us great pleasure to live once more in comparative comfort and ease.
"Then the first American crisis came and our income was cut in half. Our living expenses had to be screwed down once more, and we even had to incur debts. These had to be incurred in order to be able to continue the education of our girls further as begun.
"And now I come to the brightest part of our life, from which the only light and happiness was shed on our existence—our dear children. I feel certain that your husband, who was so fond of the girls when they were children, would be more heartily pleased with them now since they have grown into tall and blooming young women.
"Although I must fear that you will take me for a rather conceited and weak mother, I will give you a description of these dear praiseworthy girls. They are both exceptionally good-hearted, of generous dispositions, of truly amiable modesty and girlish purity. Jenny will be seventeen years of age on the first of May. She is a most charming girl, ​making quite a handsome appearance with her dark, shining, black hair and equally dark, shining soft eyes and her brunette, creole complexion with its acquired healthy English tints. The pleasant, good-natured expression of her round, childlike face makes one forget that she has a stub nose, which is perhaps not beautiful in itself, and it is a real pleasure when she speaks, to observe the friendly mouth with its fine teeth.
"Laura, who was fifteen years old last September, is perhaps prettier and of more regular features than her older sister, whose direct opposite she is. Although she is just as tall as Jenny, as slender and delicately formed, there is something lighter, brighter and more lucid about her. The upper part of her face may well be called beautiful with its waves of curly hair of chestnut brown, her sweet, dear eyes of changeable greenish lights that burn like triumphal fires, and her finely formed and noble forehead. The lower part of her face is less regular, being less developed. Both girls possess rosy, blooming complexions, and I often marvel at their lack of vanity, for I remember very well that the same could not have been said of their mother at a certain tender age!
"At school they have always carried off the first prizes. They are perfectly at home in English and are quite advanced in French. They are able to read Dante in Italian and also know a little Spanish; the German language seems to give them the greatest trouble; although I take every means in my power to prevail on them to take a German lesson now and then, my wishes do not always find obedience, so you see that respect for me and my authority are not very great. Jenny's special talent is for drawing, and the best ornaments in our home are her crayon drawings. Laura was so negligent about drawing that we had to deprive her of this instruction, as a punishment. She delights in practising on the piano, however, and sings charming English and German duets with her sister. Unfortunately, they commenced taking their musical instruction rather late, having begun only a year and a half ago. It had been impossible for us to raise the money for these expenses, for we had no piano. The one which we have now is only a hired one, and is old and dilapidated.
"The girls are a constant pleasure to us, owing to their affectionate and unselfish dispositions. Their little sister, however, is the idol of the whole house.
"This child was born at the time our poor, dear Edgar departed from life, and all our love for the little brother, all the tenderness for him, were now showered on the little sister, whom the older girls cherish with motherly solicitude. But you could scarcely find a lovelier child, so pretty, naive and full of droll humour is she. Her charming manner of ​speaking and relating stories is truly remarkable. This she learned from the Grimm brothers, who are her companions by day and night. We all have read the fairy tales until we are almost blind, but woe to us if we were to forget one syllable of Rumpelstilzkin or Schneewittchen! By means of fairy stories, she has been able to learn the German language, which she speaks correctly besides the English language, which of course lies in the air. This little one is Karl's favourite pet, laughing and chatting away many of his troubles.
"I am happy in still having our dear, loyal, conscientious Lenchen to assist me in housekeeping; ask your dear husband about her, he will affirm what a treasure she is to us. For sixteen years she has faithfully stood by us through storm and adversity.
"Last year we had to suffer great annoyance from the infamous and vile attacks made by the whole German, American, etc., press. You have no idea how many sleepless nights and how much worry it all cost us. Our lawsuit against the National-Zeitung cost us a large sum of money, and when Karl had his book ready, he could find no publisher who would accept it. He finally had to have it published, at his own expense (paying 25 pounds) and now after its appearance, the cowardly, corrupt press is trying to kill it by silence. I delighted that you are pleased with the book. Your opinion is almost literally identical with that of all our other friends. Through the very intentional disregard of the book by the press, it could not reach the splendid sale which we had every right to expect.
"Meanwhile, the high approbation of all those of foremost intellectual standing must satisfy us. Our adversaries and enemies even have had to acknowledge its high value. Bucher described it as a compendium of the history of ages, and Lassalle writes that the enjoyment afforded him and his friends by this work of art was indescribable, and that their rejoicing and delight at so much wit was limitless. Engels considers this to be Karl's best book, as does 'Lupus.' Congratulations arrive from all sides, even our old enemy, Ruge, calls it a good farce. I am curious to see if America will observe the same silence. This would be actually revolting, after having given space to all those worthless lies and calumnies. Perhaps your dear husband could give some assistance in spreading its circulation.
"I had scarcely finished copying the manuscript, when I suddenly fell ill. A most terrible fever attacked me, and we had to send for a doctor. On the 20th of November he came, examined me carefully, and after keeping silent a long time broke out into the words: "My dear Mrs. ​Marx, I am sorry to say you have got the smallpox—the children must leave the house immediately." You can imagine the distress and grief of the entire household at this verdict. What was to be done? The Liebknechts fearlessly offered to shelter the girls in their home, and by noon they had entered into exile, carrying their few belongings with them.
"I kept growing worse, hour after hour, the smallpox breaking out in the worst form. I suffered very, very much. Awful, burning pains in my face, complete sleepnessness, in deadly fear for Karl, who nursed me with the greatest tenderness, finally the loss of all senses save the inner sense of consciousness, which remained clear. I lay abed by the open window, so that the cold November air blew in upon me. At the same time there was a red hot fire in the stove; ice was placed upon my burning lips, and from time to time Bordeaux wine was infused in small quantities. I could hardly swallow, my hearing kept growing weaker, at last the eyes closed completely—who could tell if I should ever be able to see the light of day again?
"But my constitution was victorious, the tenderest, most faithful nursing assisted—and so I am sitting here again in complete health, but with disfigured face, marked by scars and a dark red coloring—quite a la hauteur de la mode couleur de Magenta! Christmas eve came and for the first time since my illness the poor children were allowed to return to their sadly missed home. This first meeting was indescribably pathetic. The girls were deeply affected and could hardly repress their tears when they saw me. But five weeks previous I had made quite an acceptable appearance beside my blooming daughters. Due to the surprising fact that I still had no gray hair and possessed good teeth and figure, I belonged to the class of well-preserved women—but now all this was gone! I felt as though I were a hippopotamus, belonging, rather to the Zoological Garden than to the Caucasian race. But do not let me frighten you too much. My appearance has improved quite a little, and the scars are beginning to heal.
"I had scarcely recovered sufficiently to be able to leave my bed, when my dearly beloved Karl took sick. Excessive fear, anxiety and vexations of every sort and description threw him upon his sick bed. For the first time, his chronic liver trouble had become acute. But thank heavens, he recovered after an illness of four weeks. In the meantime, the Tribune had placed us at half-pay again and, instead of getting some receipts from the book, we were obliged to meet a note. Added to this, was the enormous expense of the most terrible of sicknesses. In short, you now have an idea how we fared last winter.
​"As a result of all these affairs, Karl resolved to make a plundering expedition to Holland, the land of tobacco and cheese. He will endeavour to induce his uncle to help him out with money. So I am a grass widow at the present moment, and in high hope that the great Holland undertaking will be successful. Saturday of last week I received the first letter, which contained hopeful expressions and sixty gulden. Naturally, Such a mission is not easily fulfilled; it takes time; one must be expedient, use diplomacy and be a good manager. I am in hopes, however, that Karl will drain Holland dry and leave the country poverty-stricken.
"As soon as he has attained success in Holland, he will undertake a secret trip to Berlin, in order to reconnoitre the conditions there with the possible plan of arranging for a weekly or monthly periodical. The latest experiences have convinced us only too well that no progress is possible without our own organ. If Karl's plan to create a new party paper succeeds, he will certainly write to your husband and call upon him for reports from America.
"Soon after Karl's departure, our faithful Lenchen took sick and today she is still abed, though on the road to recovery. For this reason I have my hands full of work, and have had to write this letter in the greatest of hurry. But I could not and would not remain silent any longer; it has been a great relief to me to unload my heart to my oldest, truest friends. I will not make any excuses to you for having written in detail of everything and everyone. My pen ran away with me, and I can only hope and wish that you may experience only a little of the pleasure I felt at reading your letter. I have already attended to the note and all is quite in order, just as though my lord and master were here.
"My girls send their heartiest greetings and kisses to your dear children—one Laura greets the other—and I kiss each one of them in spirit. To you, my dear friend, I send my warmest regards. May you remain brave and unshaken in these days of trial. The world belongs to the courageous. Continue to be the strong, faithful support of your dear husband and remain elastic in mind and body, the true 'unrespected' comrade of your dear children, and let me hear from you again at your first opportunity. Yours in sincere friendship,
"Jenny Marx."
In the face of such cold, cruel and inhuman facts, in the presence of such unbearable misery, comment and critical appreciation become paralyzed: appalled by the shock inherent in this tragic revelation of a page in a man's life, who is to-day ​acclaimed and idolized as the formulator of a philosophical System for the proper conception of historical phenomena, and a pathfinder, if not the head, of modern Political Economy—who is considered the founder of a movement whose membership now runs into millions and which exercises a potential influence in every civilized country on the face of the globe! Any additional comment, in the face of such boundless and beautiful idealism and august devotion, seems sacrilegious and would only mar the profound impression created by this unpretentious narration of a phase in the life of this truly great and noble man. In conclusion I take the liberty to cite that well-known passage, a passage which is also quoted by Marx's daughter in closing her comment upon the turbulent life of her father:
"the elements So mixed in him that Nature might stand up And say to all the world 'This was a man'."
The next article in this series will be an essay on "An Outline for the Study of Marxism."