| Author(s) | Friedrich Engels |
|---|---|
| Written | 26 February 1895 |
ENGELS TO GEORGI PLEKHANOV
IN GENEVA
London, 26 February, 1895
41 Regent's Park Road, N. W.
My dear Plekhanov,
Everything was arranged eight days ago, Vera[1] wrote to me and said that she would be delighted to be treated by Freyberger. He went to see her eight days ago yesterday, and has since been twice. He discovered that she had a severe case of bronchitis, and has prescribed the necessary medicines. However, he says that what she needs most is a different diet.
She should eat meat instead of fruit jellies and other vegetable foods. Freyberger is out at the moment, so I will return to the question of her health before finishing this letter.
Now, since you have made me more or less responsible for the state of her health, you must tell me if she has need of money. If she has, I would ask you to permit me to offer you some for her, however little, at least during her illness, I will send you, say, five pounds to begin with, that you can persuade her to accept as coming from you, so that I do not come into it at all. You could tell her that you have sent her this money to remove any excuse for refusing to change her diet, and that Freyberger has said that she must do so. Or perhaps you can find another excuse.
I will not have the time to read the critical review of my book[2] in Russian Heritage.[3] I have already seen enough on this subject in the issue for January 1894. 520 As for Danielson, I fear that there is nothing to be done with him. I sent him by letter post 25 the Russian material from Internationales aus dem Volketaat, and in particular the 1894 appendix, which was written, in part, directly with him in view. 522 He has received it but, as you see, it is useless. There is no way of discussing with this generation of Russians to which he belongs, and which still believes in the spontaneous-communist mission which distinguishes Russia, the true Holy Russ,[4] from other profane peoples.
As for the rest, in a country such as yours, where largescale modern industry is grafted onto the primitive peasant commune, and where all the intermediary stages of civilisation are represented simultaneously, in a country which, in addition, is surrounded more or less effectively by an intellectual wall of China erected by despotism, it is scarcely surprising if the most bizarre and impossible combinations of ideas are produced. Take the poor devil Flerovsky, who imagines that tables and beds think, but have no memory. It is a phase the country must pass through. Little by little, with the growth of the towns, the isolation of men of talent will disappear, and with it these mental aberrations caused by loneliness, the inconsistency of the patchy knowledge of these curious thinkers, and also a little, in the Narodniki,[5] by the despair of seeing their hopes evaporate. Indeed, one ex- terrorist Narodnik[6] would end quite appropriately by becoming a tsarist.
To join in these polemics I would have to read a vast literature, keep up to date, and reply. This would then take up all my time for a whole year, and the only useful result would be that I would probably know Russian considerably better than I do now, but I am asked to do the same for Italy on the question of l'illustre[7] Loria. And I am already overwhelmed with work!
Jaurès is on the right road. He is learning Marxism, and he should not be hurried too much. However, he has already made good progress, much more than I had dared hope. 518 As for the rest, let us not require too much orthodoxy! The party is too large, and the theory of Marx has become too widespread for relatively isolated muddle headed persons to do too much harm in the West. In your part of the world it is different, as it was with us in 1845-59.
I share your opinion as regards Nicholas.[8] The 'Zemsky Sobor'[9] will come despite this little gentleman. 523
Freyberger has just returned, and tells me that Vera is a great deal better, and that up to the present he has discovered nothing more than chronic and neglected bronchial catarrh.
Yours,
F.E.