A QUESTION OF POWER, NOT OF RIGHT.--As regards Socialism, in the eyes of those who always consider higher utility, if it is _really_ a rising against their oppressors of those who for centuries have been oppressed and downtrodden, there is no problem of _right_ involved (notwithstanding the ridiculous, effeminate question," How far _ought_ we to grant its demands?") but only a problem of _power_; the same, therefore, as in the case of a natural force,--steam, for instance,--which is either forced by man into his service, as a machine-god, or which, in case of defects of the machine, that is to say, defects of human calculation in its construction, destroys it and man together. In order to solve this question of power we must know how strong Socialism is, in what modification it may yet be employed as a powerful lever in the present mechanism of political forces; under certain circumstances we should do all we can to strengthen it. With every great force--be it the most dangerous--men have to think how they can make of it an instrument for their purposes. Socialism acquires a _right_ only if war seems to have taken place between the two powers, the representatives of the old and the new, when, however, a wise calculation of the greatest possible preservation and advantageousness to both sides gives rise to a desire for a treaty. Without treaty no right. So far, however, there is neither war nor treaty on the ground in question, therefore no rights, no "ought." 447. UTILISING THE MOST TRIVIAL DISHONESTY.--The power of the press consists in the fact that every individual who ministers to it only feels himself bound and constrained to a very small extent. He usually expresses _his_ opinion, but sometimes also does _not_ express it in order to serve his party or the politics of his country, or even himself. Such little faults of dishonesty, or perhaps only of a dishonest silence, are not hard to bear by the individual, but the consequences are extraordinary, because these little faults are committed by many at the same time. Each one says to himself: "For such small concessions I live better and can make my income; by the want of such little compliances I make myself impossible." Because it seems almost morally indifferent to write a line more (perhaps even without signature), or not to write it, a person who has money and influence can make any opinion a public one. He who knows that most people are weak in trifles, and wishes to attain his own ends thereby, is always dangerous. 448.