The State, as we now know it, is for Egidy, who goes to work very cautiously, no more and no less than a link in the eternal chain of development; a stage, beyond which he looks into a divinely appointed kingdom of the future, that will no longer rest upon the pillars of force and fear, which "contradict the consciousness of God, wherein there will be no difference between governed and government." He quickly disposes of the objection that men are not fit for such an ideal State. "Once we have created conditions in accordance with the divine will, the men for them will be there. If there was a paradise for the first primitive man, why should there not be one for civilised man of to-day? We only need to create it for ourselves; and once we have gained entrance to it we shall not be driven out of it a second time—we have had our warning. Of course the 'old Adam' must be left outside." Of course! But Egidy forgets in the ardour of inspiration that it is not so easy to leave the old Adam outside, and that his assumption of a primitive paradise for mankind, for the homme sauvage of the "social contract," directly contradicts the theory of evolution which he has just unhesitatingly accepted. He also contradicts himself when he at first maintains that the "conditions in accordance with the divine will" will produce men fitted for them, and afterwards says: "Do not let us trouble about programmes and systems, or modes of execution; only get the right men, and we need not trouble ourselves about how to realise our proposals."

As may be seen, his "United Christianity" not only has a Socialist side, but it is sheer Socialism, the main basis of which is moral and intellectual self-consciousness. Egidy has certainly not drawn up a definite programme, and could not draw it up; "since we are all at the present moment, without exception, undergoing a thorough transformation of 'the inner man,' it is more reasonable to defer single efforts till the general consciousness has become enlightened on essential points." Egidy can thus only open up "points of view" on the social question, leaving everything else to the individual and to natural evolution. Hence a definite social doctrine is excluded.

Thus, upon the question of property, he says that property is "not so much the source as the logical consequence of the immature ideas of human rights and duties which we still hold. With the progressive transformation of our ideas generally, with the adoption of a totally different view of life, with the dawn of a new view of the world, our conceptions of property will also alter; not sooner, but surely. This new view of life will give a direction and aim to our endeavours for improvement. The new treatment of the question of property, however, will only be one of the results of the general new tendencies. Certainly it will be one of the most important; but we do not need beforehand to recognise any one of the manifold tendencies indicated as a binding law; just as we may generally take what is called Socialism into consideration, as soon as it is offered to us on a firmly defined form, but never accept it without further demur as a new law.

"Instead of the words 'equality' and 'freedom,' I say 'self-reliance' and 'independence.' They express better that which concerns the individual; and they also avoid the objection of being 'impossible.' That even self-reliance and independence may experience a certain limitation from the demands of our life in common one with another, I know quite well; but they do not mislead us beforehand to the same erroneous ideas and especially not to the same demands, so impossible of fulfilment, as the word equality. The highest attainable is always merely that we create for the individual equal, i. e., equally good, conditions of existence. But owing to the inequality of individuals similar conditions do not always produce by any means the same result of well-being; the utilisation of the conditions is a matter for the individual, and is unequal. Thus we should have to arrange these conditions as unequal for each individual in order to give all individuals really equal conditions of existence. Apart from the fundamental impossibility in our human imperfection, of doing absolute justice to these requirements, the equality thus restored would the very next moment be impaired in a thousand different directions."

Egidy is a pure Anarchist, perhaps the purest of all, but he is certainly not the wisest. "The greatest fault in Anarchism," he says, "in the eyes of the opponent whom it has to overcome, is its name. This, however, is not quite fair to the representatives of these ideas; for why must everything have a name, and why must names be sought which annihilate what at present exists, instead of choosing names which indicate the highest connotation of meanings so far recognised? Why say, 'without government'? Why not rather, 'self-discipline, self-government'? Discipline and government mean things of great value; without which we could not imagine human existence. The only question is, who exercises government over us, and who wields the rod of discipline: whether it is others or we ourselves?" To be sure, he draws a distinction between "Anarchists of Blood" and "noble Anarchists"; he condemns the former and associates himself with the latter. But that does not hinder this remarkable man from having a Bismarckian patriotism, sullen prejudices against the Jews, and, above all, incomprehensible zeal on behalf of Prussian Militarism and Monarchy.

"The monarchical idea in itself," says this most remarkable of all Anarchists, "by no means contradicts the idea of the self-reliance and independence of the individual. The prince will not be lacking in the comprehension necessary for a redrafting of the monarchical idea to suit the people when they have attained their majority. The prince belongs to the people; the prince the foremost of the people; the prince in direct intercourse with the people. The prince neither absolute ruler nor constitutional regent; but the prince a personality, an ego; with a right to execute his will as equal as that of any one of the people. No confused responsibility of ministers thrust in between people and prince. There is no 'crown' as a conception; there is only a living wearer of the crown—the king, the prince—as responsible head of the people. The present servants of the crown become commissioners of the people." Compare these expressions with Proudhon's attitude in regard to the dynastic question described above, and consider, in order to do justice to each, that Egidy as well as Proudhon had in view when speaking a monarch who knew how to surround himself at least with the appearance of "social imperialism." If, indeed, Egidy were one day to be disillusioned by his "social prince," just as Proudhon was by his monarch, yet it should not be forgotten that the "social prince" might also likewise be greatly disillusioned some day as to the loyalty of Egidy's followers.


Germany possesses an honest and upright Anarchist of a strongly individualist tendency in the naturalised Scot, John Henry Mackay, who was born at Greenock on 6th February, 1864. In Mackay we find again one of those numerous persons who have descended from that sphere of society where want and distress are only known by name, into the habitations of human pity, and have risen from these upon the wings of poetic fancy and warmheartedness into the "regions where the happy gods do dwell," and where Anarchy does not need to be brought into being. Mackay is of an essentially artistic nature; like Cafiero, he is also a millionaire, which means a completely independent man. Both these circumstances are needed to explain his individualist Anarchism. His novel, which created some sensation, entitled The Anarchist: A Picture of Society at the Close of the Nineteenth Century,[51] which appeared in 1891, is a pendant to Theodor Hertzka's novel, Freeland, to which it is also not inferior in genuinely artistic effects, as e. g., the development of the character of Auban, an egoist of Stirner's kind, and in touching description, as that of poverty in Whitechapel. The book does not contain any new ideas: but is nevertheless important as making a thorough and clear distinction between individualist and communist Anarchism; while, on the other hand, the glaring colouring of the descriptions of misery possesses a certain provocative energy which the author certainly did not intend, for he rejects the "propaganda of action."

It is only to be expected as a matter of course that in Germany as in France, that literary Bohemia, certain "advanced minds" should prefer to give themselves out as Anarchists and Individualists, as Einzige; but it must not therefore be concluded that it is our duty to concern ourselves with writers such as Pudor, Bruno Wille, and others. We might indeed utter a warning against extending too widely the boundaries of Anarchist theory, and thus obliterating them altogether. In our opinion it is quite incorrect to regard as a theoretical Anarchist every author who, like Nietzsche,[52] preached a purely philosophic individualism or egotism, without ever having given a thought to the reformation of society. To what does this lead? Some even include Ibsen among theoretical Anarchists because in a letter to Brandes he exclaims: "The State is the curse of the individual. The State must go. I will take part in this revolution. Let us undermine the idea of the State; let us set up free will and affinity of spirit as the only conditions for any union: that is the beginning of a freedom that is worth something." Such expressions may certainly show Ibsen's Anarchist tendencies, but they by no means elevate him to the position of a teacher; for that position one might sooner quote one of his own most powerful characters, Brand, that modern Faust after the style of Stirner. But Brand is a gloomy figure, who would not make many converts to individualism.