| Author(s) | Friedrich Engels |
|---|---|
| Written | 6 August 1884 |
ENGELS TO EDUARD BERNSTEIN
IN ZURICH
Worthing, 6 August 1884
48 Marine Parade
Dear Ede,
After all manner of vagaries I have at last landed up here, on the South coast, where I hope to stay for a good 3 weeks.[1] At our door we have the whole expanse of the Channel, though at low tide it recedes a good 300 paces; on the whole a quiet, boring little spot where, between bouts of idleness, I shall probably find enough time to look through your and Kautsky's translation of the Poverty.
Perhaps you would be so kind as to arrange for the proof-sheets[2] to be sent me here until further notice. Eisengarten will arrange for the Sozialdemokrat to be forwarded from London.
The weather here is fine and hot and I still have to notify umpteen people of my new address. So no further news (in any case damned scarce) save that Hyndman has now succeeded in buying To-Day as well. Bax, who invested in it what little money he had — I warned him as early as October that it wouldn't be enough — was au bout de ses finances[3] at which juncture Hyndman interposed his attendant page, Champion, through whom he offered additional funds if he, Champion, became editor in place of Bax. Thus seized by the throat, Bax accordingly resigned, the result being that Hyndman now controls the whole of the so-called socialist press. But as in the case of all such little fellows whose ambition is disproportionate to their character and talents the moment of victory was also the moment of defeat. Outward success is matched by failure within his own faction. To an increasing extent Hyndman's following is coming to consist only of those he has bought outright, and/or people who are financially dependent on him. He is daily losing ground in the DEMOCRATIC FEDERATION. The day before yesterday there was a conference of delegates[4] ; what transpired there I cannot say since Aveling, though he attended it, is at present in Derbyshire. For he and Tussy have got married without benefit of registrar, etc., and are now revelling in each other's company amidst the Derbyshire hills. Nota bene: No publicity should be given to this; it will be time enough when, perhaps, some reactionary puts something into the papers about it. The fact is that Aveling has a lawful wife whom he cannot get rid of de jure although he has for years been rid of her de facto. The matter is fairly common knowledge over here, and has, on the whole, been taken well, even by literary philistines. My London is almost a Paris in miniature and it educates its people.
But enough for now. Regards to Karl Kautsky.
Your
F. E.