Chelsea, London, 11 March, 1848

Dear Emerson,--I know not whose turn it is to write; though a
suspicion has long attended me that it was yours, and above all
an indisputable wish that you would do it: but this present is a
cursory line, all on business,--and as usual all on business of
my own.

I have finished a Book, and just set the Printer to it; one
solid volume (rather bigger than one of the _French Revolution_
Volumes, as I compute); it is a somewhat fiery and questionable
"Tract for the Times," _not_ by a Puseyite, which the terrible
aspect of things here has forced from me,--I know not whether as
preliminary to _Oliver_ or not; but it had gradually grown to be
the preliminary of anything possible for me: so there it is
written; and I am a very sick, but withal a comparatively very
free man. The Title of the thing is to be _Past and Present:_
it is divided into Four Books, "Book I. Proem," "Book II. The
Ancient Monk," "Book III. The Modern Worker," and "Book IV.
Horoscope" (or some such thing):--the size of it I guessed
at above.

The practical business, accordingly, is: How to cut out that New
York scoundrel, who fancies that because there is no gallows it
is permitted to steal? I have a distinct desire to do that;--
altogether apart from the money to be gained thereby. A friend's
goodness ought not to be frustrated by a scoundrel destitute of
gallows.--You told me long since how to do the operation; and
here, according to the best way I had of fitting your scheme into
my materials, is my way of attempting it.