n
Government--it is said that Alexander von Humboldt acted as the agent
of Prussia on this occasion--and M. Guizot was, of course, too polite
to refuse the request. Marx was expelled, and betook himself to
Brussels. Again the Prussian Government requested his expulsion, and
where the French Government had complied it was not likely the Belgian
would refuse. Marx received marching orders.

But at this same time the French Government that had expelled Marx had
gone the way of French Governments, and the new Provisional Government
through Ferdinand Flocon invited the "brave et loyal Marx" to return
to the country whence "tyranny had banished him, and where he, like
all fighting in the sacred cause, the cause of the fraternity of all
peoples," would be welcome. The invitation was accepted, and for some
months he lived in Paris. Then he returned to Germany in order to
start the _New Rhenish Gazette_ in Cologne. And the _Rhenish Gazette_
writers had very lively times. Marx was twice prosecuted, but as the
juries would not convict, the Prussian Government took the nearer way
and suppressed the paper.

Again Marx and his family returned to the country whose "doors" had
only a few short months before been "thrown open" to him. The sky had
changed--and the Government. "We remained in Paris," my mother says in
some biographical notes I have found, "a month. Here also there was to
be no resting-place for us. One fine morning the familiar figure of
the sergeant of police appeared with the announcement that Karl 'et sa
dame' must leave Paris within twenty-four hours. We were graciously
told we might be interned at Vannes in the Morbihan. Of course we
could not accept such an exile as that, and I again gathered together
my small belongings to seek a safe haven in London. Karl had hastened
thither before us." The "us" were my mother, Helene Demuth, and the
three little children, Jenny (Madame Longuet), Laura (Madame
Lafargue), and Edgar, who died at the age of eight.

The haven was safe indeed. But it was storm-tossed. Hundreds of
refugees--all more or less destitute--were now in London. There
followed years of horrible poverty, of bitter suffering--such
suffering as can only be known to the penniless stranger in a strange
land. The misery would have been unendurable but for the faith that
was in these men and women, and but for their invincible "Humor." I
use the German word because I know no English one that quite expresses
the s