tomed to live at the expense of the party, would become professional revolutionists and would train themselves to become real political leaders.
And if indeed we succeeded in reaching a point when all, or at least a considerable majority of the local committees, local groups and circles actively took up work for the common cause we could, in the not distant future, establish a daily newspaper that would he regularly distributed in tens of thousands of copies over the whole of Russia. This newspaper would become a part of an enormous pair of smith's bellows that would blow every spark of class struggle and popular indignation into a general conflagration. Around what is in itself very innocent and very small, but in the full sense of the word a regular and common cause, an army of tried warriors would systematically gather and receive their training. On the ladders and scaffolding of this general organisational structure there would soon ascend Social-Democratic Zhelyabovs from among our revolutionists and Russian Bebels from among our workers who would take their places at the head of the mobilised army and rouse the whole people to settle accounts with the shame and the curse of Russia. That is what we ought to be dreaming about!
"We ought to dream!" I wrote these words and then got scared. It seemed to me that I was sitting at a "unity congress" and that opposite me were the editors and contributors of Rabocheye Dyelo. Comrade Martynov rises and turning to me says threateningly: "Permit me to enquire, has an autonomous editorial board the right to dream without first obtaining permission of the party committee?" He is followed by Comrade Krichevsky who (philosophically deepening the words of Comrade Martynov who had long ago deepened the words of Comrade Plekhanov) continues in the same strain even more threateningly: "I go further. I ask, has a Marxist any right at all to dream, knowing that according to Marx, man always sets himself achievable tasks and that tactics is a process of growth of tasks, which grow together with the party?"
The very thought of these menacing questions sends a cold shiver down my back and makes me wish for nothing except a place to conceal myself in. I will try to conceal myself behind the back of Pisarev.
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