Dear Engels, London, 5 August 1865 

My BEST THANKS FoR THE £50 anp the speed with which the help came. 
I was greatly amused by the part of your letter’! which deals 
with the ‘work of art’ ro se.4 But you misunderstood me. The only 

a German Workers’ Educational Society in London - > Bernhard Becker (see this 
volume, p. 152) - © Edgar von Westphalen - 4 Capital 

POINT IN Question is whether to do a fair copy of part of the 
manuscript and send it to the publisher,* or finish writing the 
whole thing first? I have decided in favour of the latter for many 
reasons. No time is lost by it, as rar as the work itself is concerned, 
although some time is lost in printing; however, on the other 
hand, once begun, that cannot then be interrupted in any way 
either. Furthermore, in view of the level of the thermometer, 
progress with it has been as fast as anyone could have managed, 
even having no artistic considerations at all. Brsipes, as I have a 
MAXIMUM Limit Of 60 printed sheets, it is absolutely essential for me 
to have the whole thing in front of me, to know how much has to 
be condensed and crossed out, so that the individual sections shall 
be evenly balanced and in proportion within the prescribed 
limits.”° In any case, you can be sure that I shall spare no effort to 
complete as soon as possible, as the thing is a nightmarish burden to 
me. Not only does it prevent me from doing anything else, but it 
is also damnedly irksome to have the public kept entertained with 
the expectation of laurels to come (not by me, to be sure, but by 
Liebknecht and others). And furthermore, I know that time will 
not stand still for ever just as it is now. 

Eichhoff has written a few lines to me, but couldn’t call on me 
owing to pressure of business. In his letter he said Dronke would 
visit (he was here yesterday) but in such a confused way there was 
no making sense of the scriptum. That ‘treatise’ is sticking to poor 
Eichhoff like his own skin, and no operation will detach it from 
him. 

What do you make of Siebel’s productions as a patriotic-liberal 
poet? The thing appears to have been written during extremely 
depressing hangover. It is utter nonsense and surpasses Everything 
our friend has previously produced. 

The Social-Demokrat’s attempt to commit itself in support of the 
bourgeoisie is a sign of complete and utter fiasco, although I share 
your view that the first calls in Berlin did not occur without some 
ministerial prompting.‘ However, the other Lassallean faction, 
which executed a volte face’ against the Social-Demokrat as a result 
of our statement, are also quite a pitiful rabble. These fellows are 
not merely at loggerheads with B. Becker and Co. as to whose 
faith in Lassalle is the true one, but several of their branches have 
published that phrase inspired by orp Hatzfeldt and coined 
specifically with us in mind, that anyone who tried to overturn or 

a Otto Meissner - > what he had written - © See this volume, pp. 169-70. - 4 about- 
turn - © K. Marx and F. Engels, ‘To the Editor of the Social-Demokrat’. 

change even one syllable of the truths as revealed by Lassalle, was 
declared a traitor to the ‘people’. 

It is ages since I last answered Liebknecht, despite various notes 
he sent me; however I am going to do so now. He is in Hanover 
for the time being now, but his wife? is still in Berlin. The reason 
why I did not write was partly that I was very busy, and also I had 
enough on my hands with my own rrovsies. On the other hand, I 
was furious with him for the nonsense which he had been retailing 
about me at the Berlin Lassalle-Association and which is there for 
all to read in the scrap of a pamphlet about B. Becker’s expulsion 
from that association which the old sow got someone called 
Schilling to publish (Farthing would have been a more appropriate 
name).*** With his usual talent for being too lazy to acquaint 
himself with the facts, he drivels the greatest nonsense about’the 
Bangya-manuscript' and my intercession for Becker quoad? 
Vienna Botschafter,“ etc. And, moreover, the whole way in which 
he plays the part of my ‘patron’ and ‘apologises’ for me to the louts 
of Berlin for them not knowing my works; and generally behaves 
as though so far I had done nothing in affairs of action. So, I 
allowed some time to elapse, so as not to say anything rude to him 
and to pacify myself with the thought that Liebknecht will be 
Liebknecht and that his intentions are ‘good’. The 30,000 
members of the old Berlin Journeymen’s Association, and ditto the 
Association of Printers there organised a kind of ovation for him 
when he was expelled. With his usual optimism, Wilhelmchen sees 
‘the proletariat of Berlin at my (that is, his) and our (yours and 
mine) feet’.° At the same time, he has not managed even to form 
a single srancnh of 6 members for the International Association in 
Germany, although the sanguine fellow must surely realise that I 
cannot serve up his pe.usions to the English as true coin. He also 
kept on writing to me about my ‘book’.“ But however often I sent 
him ‘books’ (first the whole remainder of ‘ Vogt,’* then the whole 
remainder of the ‘Communist Trials’') at his most sanguine 
request, from the moment he received them, I never heard a 
dying word more about them. 

Mr Groote, Party of Progress” deputy for Düsseldorf, has written 
to him saying that what he did in Berlin has had more effect than the 
actions of 100 Party of Progress deputies. 

a Ernestine Liebknecht - > with regard to-¢ The original has: Beobachter. - 
4 Capital - € K. Marx, Herr Vogt. - £ K. Marx, Revelations Concerning the Communist 
Trial in Cologne. 

Edgar* has just recently caught a cold which has gone to his 
nose, which, as a result of this accent, looks positively Bardol- 
phian.? 

During the warm weather I have been regularly working day 
and night by the open window. Outcome: an attack of rheumatism 
in my right arm, particularly the shoulder blade, which is very 
painful and makes writing, especially any lifting-movement, dif- 
ficult. I instinctively cry out if I unintentionally raise my arm in 
bed at night, which tells you how nasty the thing is. Does Gumpert 
know of any kind of nosrrum for it? 

You probably know that at the Gymnastic Festival in Paris, the 
worthy Gottfried Kinkel refused the laurel crown he was offered 
by a Jew who was presiding, with the words: ‘I want no crown, not 
even a crown of laurel’, but at once added in fairly unvarnished 
words that he had by no means yet given up his claims to the 
Presidency of the German Republic, the ‘office’ that was his due. 
The Nordstern ridiculed him rather effectively as much for this bit 
of melodrama, and for his whole sreecu, which was disgusting. The 
Festival opened with a toast to Badinguet.* 

Where is Strohn? 

As soon as you have time and inclination, do not forget to send 
me something ‘continental’ for the Miner‘ 

Kindest regards to you from the whole family, and from me to Mrs 
Lizzy. 

Your 
K. Marx