| Author(s) | Friedrich Engels |
|---|---|
| Written | 22 August 1868 |
ENGELS TO MARX
IN LONDON
Bridlington Quay, 22 August 1868
Dear Moor,
Best thanks for the Lanterne and the B. Becker.[1] The closer one comes to see the details of the Lassalle tragicomedy, the more the comical side emerges. This man was ruined by his IRREPRESSIBLE reflection upon himself, his permanent self-contemplation. 'How do I appear to myself?' was the eternal refrain. Poor Baron Izzy! Comic at that exalted moment when he commissioned his alter ego, Rüstow, to bed the beautiful Helen[2] per procura[3] if necessary—he well knew how little danger this involved—as at that other moment when the Wallachian[4] shot away his genitals. Poor Izzy! To be gelded by a shot from a Wallachian.[5] You always found it so comical that his gob had been stopped, but now this as well.
Seiler! That is the impression of the whole story. Sebastian Seiler, the only worthy historiographer of this tragicomedy—he will hang himself that he missed this putrid scene. En attendant[6] it is quite amusing that the 'testamentary successor of Lassalle'[7] declares him an aristocrat, traitor and cad, and is forced to appropriate all those things that we formerly had published against him himself and against Schweitzer.[8] Bastards!
On Wednesday or Thursday[9] I shall go back to Manchester from here and shall then visit my mother for a week—probably in Ostend. I am still waiting for a letter from her, and have no idea where I stand in the meantime.[10]
Naturally I would have sent the money for the loan from the insurance company only to you, if you had not from the start shoved the whole affair away from you and onto Borkheim, so that I had to turn to him simply to find out how much had to be paid. That I could, of course, only do with the simultaneous remark that I would send the sum to him, since he was indeed standing surety for the money. As I already wrote to you, it would never have occurred to me to send the money to that jackass Schyler.g But I expect to see you before then, in London at the end of next week.
Your
F. E.