Chapter V: Karl Marx

"+Ktêma es aei.+"

THUC., i., 22.

Karl Marx was born in Treves in the year 1818, the son of a Jewish lawyer, who was later baptised into the Christian faith. Intelligence and general culture were at home in the house of his parents. The favourite authors of the family were Rousseau and Shakespeare, the latter of whom was the favourite poet of Karl Marx throughout life. An element of cosmopolitanism was conspicuous in the household life of the Marx family. Their closest intercourse was with the family von Westphalen, the parents of the later Prussian minister--the half-Scottish, highly cultured Baron Edgar. To this man the young Karl owed his first introduction to literature, and later to his wife Jenny.

Karl studied philosophy and history in Bonn, purposing to become a Prussian professor. By the year 1842 he came to the point of formal admission as lecturer. But difficulties soon presented themselves; the young Marx, then allied with Bruno Bauer, was carried away by the reactionary tendency which at that time swept again over the Prussian universities, especially over heretical Bonn. As customarily happens in such cases of aborted career, the young Marx became a journalist. Soon he emigrated, because in 1844 the Prussian police drove him out of the land; he fled to Paris, was thrown out again by Guizot on demand, we suppose, of Prussia; in 1845 he went to Brussels, returning to Germany during the year 1848; finally after the year 1849 he found rest in London from the pressure of the police. Here he lived until his death in the year 1883.

His personality, the characteristics of which were strikingly developed through the external circumstances of his life, was marked by extraordinary intellectual activity. He was a pitiless and positive critic in his very nature. He had an abnormally sharp vision for psychological and historical continuity, especially where these are based upon the less noble impulses of mankind. A word of Pierre Leroux's seems to me as if coined for Marx: "il etait ... fort pénétrant sur le mauvais côté de la nature humaine." So it was by nature easy for him to believe in Hegel's teaching that "evil" has accomplished all the development of mankind. His conception of the world is expressed in Wallenstein's magnificent words:

"To the bad spirit belongs the earth, not to the good; the good
things that the gods send to us from above are to be held only
in communal possession. Their light gives us joy, yet makes no
man rich; in their kingdom there is no private possession."

What qualified Karl Marx to reach the first rank among the social philosophers of the nineteenth century, and to obtain next to Hegel and Darwin the greatest influence upon modern ideas, was the fact that he united a knowledge of the highest form of the historic philosophy of his time--Hegel--with a knowledge of the highest form of social life--that of Western Europe, of France, and especially of England. It was because he knew how to concentrate, as by a lens, all the rays of light which had been shed by other thinkers, and because he was able through his cosmopolitan experience to withdraw attention from the incidental features of national development, and to concentrate it upon what is typical in modern social life.

Marx, in common with his friend Friedrich Engels, in a large number of monographs, the best known of which is _Capital_, has laid the ground-lines of an amazing system of social philosophy; but this is not the place for a study of its particular features. What interests us much more at this time is the Marxian theory of social agitation, because this is especially what has enabled him to influence decisively the progress of social development. In no single book of his is this theory comprehensively presented. Yet we find all the essential elements of it in the celebrated "Communistic Manifesto" of Marx and Engels in the year 1847, which was presented as a programme to the "League of the Righteous" in Brussels; they accepted it and thus changed themselves into a "League of Communists." The "Communistic Manifesto" contained the principles of a philosophy of history, upon which the programme of a party is based. Its leading thoughts are these:

All history is the story of a struggle between classes; the history of the present is the story of the struggle between the middle class and the proletariat. The making of classes results from certain economic conditions of production and distribution, through which also social control is determined. "Immanent" forces (the expression does not occur in the "Communistic Manifesto," but becomes later a technical term) constantly revolutionise the conditions of production, and thus of all economic matters. In our time this organic change is accomplished with especial quickness, because the tremendous forces of production created by the middle class grow too fast. Thus on the one side the conditions of existence under the present capitalistic economy quickly deteriorate; upon the other side the conditions of existence tend to a social organisation without classes upon a basis of common production and communal ownership of the means of production (this formula, also, is not found in the "Communistic Manifesto," in which merely the abolition of private property is presented; but our phrase first occurs two years later, in the history of class struggle in France). This deterioration appears in the crises in which society feels itself "suddenly thrown back into a condition of momentary barbarism," and in the emergence of pauperism in which it plainly appears now

"that the middle class is unfit longer to remain the ruling
class of society and to enforce the life condition of itself as
the ruling law; it is unfit to rule because it is incapable of
securing subsistence to its slave within the terms of his
slavery, because it is compelled to let him sink into a position
in which it must support him instead of being supported by him."

But the conditions of the new social order (this thought also is merely suggested in the "Communistic Manifesto" and only later, especially by Engels, is it developed) are created by an enormous increase of the forces of production and by the "communisation of the processes of production" which goes hand in hand with this increase--that is, the interweaving and combination of the individual acts of production, and transition to co-operative methods, etc.

The most important consequence now for our question is this: the economic revolution finds its spontaneous expression in opposition and struggle of classes, the "modern social movement"--that is, the movement of the proletariat is nothing but the organisation of those elements of society which are called to break the rule of the middle class and "to conquer the new social forces of production." This they can accomplish only by "abolishing their own private appropriation as it has thus far existed and with it the whole idea of private property"; that is, in place of private possession and private production to establish communism.

The "communists"--that is, the political party for which the "Communistic Manifesto" serves as a confession of faith--are only a part of the warring proletariat; they form that part which is conscious of the process of development. This party

"distinguishes itself from the other proletarian elements only
in that on the one side it emphasises and enforces in the
different national campaigns of the proletariat the interests of
the proletariat as a whole, and on the other hand in that in the
different stages of development through which the struggle
between the proletariat and the bourgeoisie passes, invariably
it represents the interests of the general proletarian
movement."

"The theories of the communists rest in no way upon ideas or
principles which have been discovered by this or that reformer.
They are only general expressions of the actual conditions in an
existing struggle of classes, an agitation which is happening
historically before our very eyes."

The thoughts here expressed, as I have already indicated in several places in this review, have been later to some extent more precisely worded, have been to some decree enlarged and developed, have been in part modified; but the ground-lines of Marx's theory of the social movement are already revealed in them all. In what now lies their historic importance? How shall we explain their tremendous power of conquest? Whence comes their continuance already through a half-century?--and all this, in spite of the fact that, as I believe, this theory errs in essential points, and that it can scarcely indeed sustain itself as a whole!

Before I now attempt to give the answer I must make one thing clear. What Marx and Engels have left to us as an intellectual inheritance, whether we consider their writings from 1842, or even only those after 1847, seems at first as if it were a confused mass of varied thought-material. Only he who looks closely and who takes the trouble to enter into the spirit of the men can bring the separated lines of thought into order. Such an one finds that some fundamental ideas run through the writings of Marx and Engels during the whole period of their literary activity; also that at different times quite different lines of thought run across and confuse the system which, as a whole, is built up upon these great ideas. Most exponents of the Marxian teaching, especially those representing the middle class, have made the mistake of not separating the essential from the accidental, and have as a result not been able to do justice to the historic significance of these theories. Naturally it is easier to start with the contradictions and inconsistencies of an author, rather than to make tedious tracing of what is of lasting worth; it is easy, but not right, to content oneself with detached and apparent blunders and mistakes in the teaching of an important thinker, in order to reject this teaching _in toto_. Marxism, as no other teaching, offers itself for such treatment; partly because many of his theories awake the passions of the critic and hence must in advance prevent calm judgment, partly because in fact, as already said, it presents a most clumsy confusion of contradictory teachings. This is shown in the fact that even now, after his thoughts have lived through a half-century, we must still exert ourselves to get at the real meaning and the deep importance of his teaching. This is due especially to the "middle-class" critics of Marx; but it is also because of the members of his own party. I recall the fact that the fundamental principle of Marx's economic system--the theory of value--has become an object of fruitful discussion as lately as two years ago. At that time I attempted to bring into use this method which I have just specified as the only true one for such a peculiar formation as the Marxian teaching; I asked how the parts of Marx's theory which stand in such opposition to each other could be reconciled, in order to bring out the sense which so earnest a thinker must surely have laid underneath. At that time the aged Engels could bear witness that I had about "hit the right mark," but that he could not endorse all that I had "introduced" into the Marxian teaching. Other critics thought at the time that nothing more would be heard of Marx's teaching concerning value. Perhaps they are right; but if Marx's _Theory of Value_ is a scientific work, it can be such only in my interpretation.

I have thus spoken in order to show you how I stand concerning Marx's theory of the social movement. I make most earnest effort to separate it from all extraneous matter, to comprehend it in its essential points, and so to present these essentials in such way that they shall be consistent with reality. At the same time I emphasise the spirit of Marx's theories, and only hope that it is truly the soul of Marx, and not of myself, "in which the times reflect themselves."

I shall attempt to speak later concerning what I look upon as confusing "non-essentials" of the theory; I speak now of what I think to be the historically important essence--the +ktêma es aei+--of Marx's theory of the social movement.

First and before all, it is a scientific accomplishment of the first order to give prominence to the historic conception of the social movement and the inner relationship of the "economic," "social," and "political" manifestations and precedents. Marx applies the evolution idea to the social movement. Other conspicuous men have tried to consider socialism and the social movement as in the flow of historic life--I think, for example, of Lorenz von Stein, that writer who, perhaps, has most influenced Marx. But no one has so clearly, illuminatively, effectively shown these historical relations. That political revolutions and agitations are fundamentally great displacements of social classes is a truth enunciated before the time of Marx; but no one has ever presented it in so impressive a way. He takes economic revolutions as his starting-point, in order to explain the creation and the conflict of social classes; and in _Misère_ (175), before the "Communistic Manifesto," he had already said: "il n'y a jamais de mouvement politique qui ne soit social en même temps." But therewith--and it is this that is of importance to us--is the proletariat brought to full self-consciousness and taught to know itself in its historic relations. Out of this historic conception arises, for Marx and for the proletariat, with certainty the main points of the programme and the tactics of the social movement. They are only "a general expression of actual relations in an existing struggle of classes," as the "Communistic Manifesto" has expressed it somewhat vaguely. To state it more exactly, the theory of Marx affirms the identification of that which unconsciously and instinctively had arisen as a proletarian idea with that which is actually observable as the result of economic development. As to tactical management, however, the idea was decisive that revolutions could not be forced, but were the outgrowth of specific economic antecedents; while class strife in both its forms--the political, of which the "Communistic Manifesto" speaks chiefly, and the economic, for which in _Misère_ Marx breaks a lance--is recognised as the instrument which the proletariat must use in order to protect its interests during the process of economic transformation. Thus he formulates that which every intelligent proletarian movement must recognise as its fundamental principles. Socialism as a goal, struggle between classes as the way towards it, cease to be merely personal opinions, and are understood as necessary.

This elementary conception, that these two main pillars of the modern social movement are not merely arbitrary creations, but are unavoidable products of the historic development, is even to-day so little accepted that it is worth our while to spend a little time upon it.

First, it must be noticed that in all the writing's of Marx and Engels, whose "Anti-Duehring" always constitutes a necessary complement to all the theories of Marx, there is no proof of the asserted "necessity" of the social movement which fully satisfies the demands of our day as to scientific method. It is known that Marx stands upon the Hegelian dialectic, out of date now. What we demand is a psychological founding of social happening, and for this Marx cares little.

Now it seems to me easy to fill this gap. I shall attempt it so far as the limitations of time allow.

Why must the ideal of every proletarian movement be necessarily a democratic collectivism--that is, the communisation of the means of production? It seems to me that the following considerations contain the answer to the question.

The modern social movement strives after that which is represented by the battle-cry, "The emancipation of the proletariat." But this has two phases, an ideal and a material. Ideally a social class can consider itself as "emancipated" only when it as a class is economically and politically dominant or at least independent; the proletariat, that now finds itself in economic dependence upon capital, can only become "emancipated" by throwing off this connection. Perhaps we can conceive of the proletariat as using employers as agents to carry on the work of production. But even then the management will be no longer in the hands of the employers as to-day, but of the proletariat as master of the situation. So long as this supremacy is not reached in any such form, there can be no thought of an "emancipation" of a class. Nor can we speak of this "emancipation" in a material sense, so long as those conditions obtain which to-day, from a class standpoint, are looked upon as marking a social inferiority and are derived from the capitalistic social system. If the proletariat sets an aim clearly before itself, this goal can only be, from the class standpoint, the overthrow of this capitalistic order. Now this overthrow is possible in either of two ways. Either operations on a large scale, which have replaced the earlier and smaller methods of production, can be so reconstituted as that large interlocal and international production shall be again narrowed and localised--in which case the overthrow of the capitalistic order will be simply a retrogression to the "middle-class" system. Or this present order can be conquered in such a way that the existing forms of production on a large scale shall be retained--then the results will be socialism. There is no third possibility. If the proletariat does not vanquish capitalism by a return to the smaller forms of operation, it can accomplish this only by putting a socialistic organisation in place of the capitalistic. And further: the proletariat can attach itself only to the latter method, because its whole existence is interwoven with the system of production on a large scale; it is indeed only the shadow of the system, it exists only where this system rules. Therefore we can say that socialism as the aim of the social movement arises fundamentally and necessarily out of the economic situation of the proletariat. The whole demonstration falls to the ground in a moment, wherever a tendency to the development of proletarian production on a large scale does not exist in economic life.

What I would here show, let me say again, is the necessity of the ideal; but this must not be confused with the certainty of its realisation. In order to prove this, it would be necessary to present other considerations, which lie far from our subject. Thus, whether any such realisation of the ideal is scientifically possible seems to be doubtful. For this would not be proved even if it should be demonstrated that what the proletariat desires and strives for has been provided in the course of social development. I shall have opportunity later to draw attention to this, that the conception of socialism as a need of nature, and thus "necessarily" to be realised, does not rest upon clear thought.

What we must now hold fast as the result of our investigation is this, and it is a true Marxian thought, that social ideals are only utopianism so long as they are merely evolved in the head of the theorist. They obtain reality only when they are united to actual economic conditions, when they arise out of these conditions. The possibility of realising the good and beautiful is enclosed within the sheath of economic necessity. This covering, created out of capitalistic and proletarian conditions and historic economic circumstances, is of such a nature that the ideal of proletarian exertion can only lie in the direction of a socialistic order of society.

But why must the way towards the realisation of this aim lie through class strife? To this we answer in brief: modern society presents itself to us as an artificial medley of numerous social classes--that is, of certain groups of persons whose homogeneity arises out of their attachment to specific forms or spheres of economic life. We distinguish the "junker," as representative of feudal agrarianism, from the bourgeoisie, the representatives of capital; we distinguish the "middle class," the representatives of local production and distribution, from the modern wage-worker or the proletariat, etc. Each one of these groups of economic interests has its special adherents in the professional classes of society among the officials, scholars, artists, who stand outside the economic life, but who unite themselves by birth or position to one or another of the social classes.

This attachment to a social class works decisively in two directions. It implants in the mind of each individual member of a class the conception of the world and life characteristic of that group of men whose thoughts and feelings tend to become identical through the uniformity of the external circumstances that control them; similarity of aspiration and ideal is created. Further, this attachment accomplishes a positive control over the individual in the maintenance of that which is represented by the class--its social position as truly as its material interests; it creates what we may call class interest.

Everywhere and spontaneously there is developed a distinction between classes, and class interest is involved in this. The upholding of this class interest leads throughout to class opposition. Not always does the upholding of a class standard involve necessarily collision with the interests of other classes; at times an identity of interests arises; but this harmony never lasts. The interest of the "junker" must at a certain point come into conflict with that of the burgher, that of the capitalist with that of the proletariat, that of the hand-worker and tradesman with that of the large capitalist; for each class strives naturally for itself, and by that very fact excludes other interests. Then comes to pass the saying:

"Where one goes ahead, others go back;
Who would not be driven must drive;
So strife ensues and the strongest wins."

It is here that differences of opinion may emerge: but must this really come to "strife" and "warfare"? May we not hope that, through love of mankind, or sympathy, or interest in the welfare of the whole, or some such noble motive, each class will freely divest itself of such of its privileges as stand in the way of others? I have already had occasion in another place to express my opinion on this point--that I look upon such well-intentioned judgment of average human nature as in contradiction with actual life. I have referred to the fact that conclusive proof for or against such a conception cannot be presented; that the final ground of decision rests in the depths of personal conviction on the part of the individual. But what offers some proof for the justification of the realistic opinion presented by me is the circumstance that history has as yet given no example of a free divestment of class privilege; at least I will say that every instance claimed as such may easily be invalidated. On the other side we have innumerable instances in history where such reform has been begun by well-meaning friends of humanity, theorists, only to be shattered soon on the _rocher de bronze_ of the strong self-interest of the threatened dominant class. They eagerly hold up before us unbelievers the night of the 4th of August, 1789, and they forget the hundred burning castles in France. They remind us of the Prussian agrarian reforms, and forget not only the French Revolution but also the Declaration of 1816. They remind us--but why add illustrations? Let such men prove authentically a single case in history in which a social class has against its own interests and out of altruistic motives made an essential concession. Certainly there have been conspicuous individuals who have done this; why not? We see this daily. But a whole class--never! If this is so, then the word of the great realist must be true, that "only strength conquers." So we find as the conclusion of our thought, first a difference of classes, then class interests, then class opposition, finally class strife. It is thus that Marx would have developed his theory of class strife, and easily, if he had chosen to proceed upon a psychological foundation.

As we now turn to this theory itself and its significance for the social movement we are obliged, I think, to concede that the entrance of Karl Marx was a decisive turning-point in this agitation, because through him it was based upon a fundamentally changed conception of history and humanity. This change is occasioned by the fact that, in place of an idealistic, or rather partisan, way of looking at things, a realistic vision obtains, and thus for the social movement the idea of "revolution" passes into the thought of "evolution." The spirit of the nineteenth century supplants the spirit of the preceding centuries. You remember how I sought to make clear to you the essence of this spirit in connection with the teachings of the utopists; if I may be allowed to refer to it again, it is that idealistic conception of man and life,[1] cherished now only by the scholars, that faith in humanity as good by nature, that belief that men so long as they are not led astray by the mistake or malice of individual bad men will live in the most affectionate peace with their brethren; it is that belief in a "natural order" of the past and future--that rock-fast confidence that only explanation and exhortation are needed in order to bring men out of this vale of tears to the happy islands of the blest. This is that faith in the power of eternal love which through its own force shall overcome the bad, and help the good to victory. This it was that, though the leaders were not conscious of it, really lay at the bottom of all political and social agitation until the middle of our century; this it is that, in my opinion, as I have already said, still slumbers in the lap of anarchism, even to-day as an instinct. This fundamental tendency is now directly reversed; the belief in a humanity good by nature gives place to the conviction that man is of himself ruled by no noble motives, that he carries within himself the _bête humaine_ even in all culture and in spite of all "advance." Hence the conclusion: that a man, in order to accomplish anything in the world, must before all call upon "interest"--a normal and material instinct. For it is the most important conclusion for the fate of the social movement, that now "interest" rules in the world; that where anything is to be done, or a class, like the proletariat, is to be emancipated, a man needs some weapon stronger than the theory of "eternal love" against the interest of the capitalist class, and must present force against force, might armed by "interest." At the end of all thought upon this matter lies this consideration, which leads not only to the theory, but as well to the practice, of class strife. Combat is the solution of the difficulty for this hard and unlovely proletarian generation which has grown up since the middle of our century; not peace, not reconciliation, not a general brotherhood--but battle. That this strife is no longer open warfare, like street riot, does not alter the fact that it is really strife. Out of this is to come a generation of men qualified to live and work in an order of society higher than the present capitalistic order.

It is this that I call the realistic conception of the social movement; and there is no doubt that it is the outcome of that Marxian theory of the world and society which I have just attempted to sketch. Only thus could the social-political realism, which heretofore has been proclaimed in a limited way, now arise as the principle of the whole social movement.

It is this social-political realism which gives the finishing stroke to all utopism and revolutionism. The insurrectionists in Lyons and the Chartist revolutionaries were both utopists--for they shed their blood and yet only strengthened the reaction. The Putschists, Clubists, and Blanquists were utopists, who through conspiracies and street riots would through all time control economic development. Not less utopian were those "geniuses" who offered exchange banks or the _Organisation du travail_ or such remedies. Utopists also were those who believed in the power of all kinds of schemes. Finally, utopists were all those kindly souls who hoped to allay and overcome the sufferings of the proletariat by an appeal to the good hearts of the friends of humanity. Karl Marx has succeeded in freeing us from the use of empty phrases in the sphere of social politics.

Let us now in closing recapitulate the points wherein I see the historic significance of Marx's teaching for the social movement. Marx points out as its _object_ the communisation of the means of production, as its _way_ the struggle between classes; he erects these two as the main pillars upon which the whole structure must be built. He secured for these principles general acceptance; and he succeeded in this without preventing the development of national and other peculiarities. In placing the social movement in the flow of historic development he brings it theoretically into harmony with the objective and subjective factors of history, he bases it upon actual conditions of economic life and of human endowment, he shows its economic and psychological features.

Thus I look at Marx, when I attempt to fathom the spirit of his teaching; this is the deep meaning of Marxism.

There is no doubt that, according to the common idea, Marx and Engels, who must always be named with him, appear in a light essentially different from that which I have attempted to show to you. In general these men have been looked upon, not only as different from what I have stated, but as in a bad sense the very opposite of social realists; namely, as the father and the guardian of the worst kind of revolutionary thought. And who would not apparently be justified in this belief, reading the writings of both these men? He reads of clanking chains which must be broken, of revolutions towards which man tends, of bloody battle and death and assassination. How does the matter really lie?

Marx himself once said, _Moi je ne suis pas Marxiste_, but he gave to these words a meaning different from the ordinary one, as I also do when I say that Marx and Engels have not always shown themselves consistent Marxists either in theory or in practice.

Doubtless there are inconsistencies in theory, contradictions of the fundamental thoughts, discrepancies which can have only one source--that is, an overwhelming revolutionary passion which obscures a vision otherwise so clear.

For example, I think of their unreasonable belief in what they call the "fall" of humanity through the introduction of the principle of private property, from which as they say history, and as well the forces of history, take their start; the astonished hearer asks himself, What impelled man to the introduction of this principle? I think, also, of the hypothesis of a strifeless condition of humanity after the introduction of socialism--and the like. Here, and throughout, the old dreams of a Paradise lost and regained, of a happy condition of humanity originally, come as a disturbing element into their new world of thought.

With both these men it was in life as in theory. Here also appears the old revolutionary Adam every moment and plays tricks with them. Since the year 1845 they have not ceased to dream of revolution, and indeed fierce revolution; repeatedly have they announced the outbreak as near. This could be only the outcome of an unrealistic judgment of the situation, of a mistaken conception of the political, economic, and social conditions; thus it was an error of judgment as to the time, if not a contradiction of their supreme principle that "revolutions are not made." Psychologically these contradictory phenomena are easily to be explained. Both Marx and Engels have never ceased with intelligence and calm judgment to present that realism which we have seen as the essence of their view of life. But you must not forget that they have conceived their teachings under the roar of revolutionary battles; that they were themselves of those fitful and fiery souls who, like the "world squirrel,"[2] go assiduously from place to place in order to set Europe on fire. Think of the mass of malice and hatred that must have accumulated within these exiles, who experienced through life nothing but derision, scorn, suspicion, and persecution from their powerful opponents! Imagine what a superhuman self-discipline and control was needed to prevent them from petty and vindictive attacks upon the hated opponents at every opportunity. As this deeply rooted passion arose in these revolutionary heroes, as rage almost strangled them, their logic flew out of the window and old revolutionary fury broke out and overwhelmed them. But that I am right in characterising Marxism as a social-political realism you see clearly from the many and fundamental declarations and acknowledgments of its founders, which come to us out of all periods of their lives. And indeed there is always a declared opposition to general revolutionism, to "Putschism," as they assert their standpoint. The strife with the party of Willich-Schapper in the year 1850, the battle with Bakunin in the "International,"--concerning which I have yet to speak,--the declarations against the anarchists, the discussion with Duehring, the disowning of the "Jungen,"--all tends in the end to help to victory the evolutionary principle in the social movement. It is easy to explain how the true conviction came to expression on these occasions.

The last word of Marxism, which also contains a _résumé_ of its teaching; is a writing by Engels, published shortly before his death; the introduction to the _Struggle of Classes in France_. It is an epilogue to his own life's drama, a confession, the last words of warning which the dying man cries to the contesting proletariat. Here the clear, logical position, as I think it is demanded by the conception of history held by that school, finally comes to distinct expression. This introduction shows perhaps best and most quickly how at the end Engels and Marx understood the social movement. Some of the most significant passages may here find place:

"History has proved wrong us and all who thought similarly (sc.
expecting the victory of the proletariat in the near future of
the year 1843). It has made clear that the condition of economic
development upon the Continent at that time was far from ripe
for an abolishment of capitalistic production; it has proved
this through the economic development which since 1848 has
seized upon the whole continent and has made a home for the
great industries in France, Austria, Hungary, Poland, and lately
Russia, has made out of Germany an industrial country of the
first rank--all upon a capitalistic basis, which in the year
1848 was but little developed. To-day the great international
army of socialists is resistlessly stepping forward, is daily
growing in number, discipline, intelligence, and assurance of
victory. As to-day this mighty army of the proletariat has not
as yet reached the goal, as it is far from accomplishing the
victory by one great stroke, but must slowly press forward in
hard persistent struggle from position to position, this proves
once for all how impossible it was in the year 1848 to
accomplish the social overturning through a simple unexpected
attack.... The time of surprise, of carrying through a
revolution by a small minority at the head of ignorant masses,
is passed. For a complete overthrow of the social organisation
the masses themselves must be concerned, they must understand
what they do, why they take part. The history of the last fifty
years has taught this to us. But through this teaching the
masses are learning what is to be done, and that long and
patient work is needed, and that it is just this work which we
now urge forward with such success that our opponents are
brought to confusion. The irony of history turns everything
upside down. We, 'revolutionaries,' succeed far better by means
legal than illegal and destructive. The party of order, as it
calls itself, goes to pieces through the very conditions created
by itself. It cries out confusedly with Odelon Barrot--_la
légalité nous tue_ (conformity to the law kills us); while we,
with this legality, develop round muscles and red cheeks and
seem destined for eternal life."

What comes to expression in these words is merely a confession of--Marxism.

* * * * *

FOOTNOTES:

[1] In what follows I reproduce some passages out of my book concerning Friedrich Engels (Berlin, 1895).

[2] In German mythology the world is represented as a great tree, with its roots in Niefelheim, and its branches in Asgard. Wotan communicates with the world by a "welten eichhoernchen," a "world squirrel," which runs up and down the tree. (Translator.)