had; it is becoming a kind of passion with me, to feel myself among my brothers.  And then, How?  Alas!  I care not a doit for Radicalism, nay I feel it to be a wretched necessity, unfit for me; Conservatism being not unfit only but false for me:  yet these two are the grand Categories under which all English spiritual activity that so much as thinks remuneration possible must range itself.  I look around accordingly on a most wonderful vortex of things; and pray to God only, that as my day, is so my strength may be.  What will come out of it is wholly uncertain:  for I have possibilities too; the possibilities of London are far from exhausted yet:  I have a brave brother, who invites me to come and be quiet with him in Rome; a brave friend (known to you) who opens the door of a new Western world,—­and so we will stand considering and consulting, at least till the Book be over.  Are all these things interesting to you?  I know they are.

As for America and Lecturing, it is a thing I do sometimes turn over, but never yet with any seriousness.  What your friend says of the people being more persuadable, so far, as having no Tithe-controversy, &c., &c. will go, I can most readily understand it.  But apart from that, I should rather fancy America mainly a new Commercial England, with a fuller pantry,—­little more or little less.  The same unquenchable, almost frightfully unresting spirit of endeavor, directed (woe is me!) to the making of money, or money’s worth; namely, food finer and finer, and gigmanic renown higher and higher:  nay, must not your gigmanity be a purse-gigmanity, some half-shade worse than a purse-and-pedigree one?  Or perhaps it is not a whit worse; only rougher, more substantial; on the whole better?  At all events ours is fast becoming identical with it; for the pedigree ingredient is as near as may be gone:  Gagnez de l’argent, et ne vous faites pas pendre, this is very nearly the whole Law, first Table and second.  So that you see, when I set foot on American land, it will be on no Utopia; but on a conditional piece of ground where some things are to be expected and other things not.  I may say, on the other hand, that Lecturing (or I would rather it were speaking) is a thing I have always had some hankering after:  it seems to me I could really swim in that element, were I once thrown into it; that in fact it would develop several things in me which struggle violently for development.  The great want I have towards such an enterprise is one you may guess at:  want of a rubric, of a title to name my speech by.  Could any one but appoint me Lecturing Professor of Teufelsdrockh’s science,—­ “Things in general”!  To discourse of Poets and Poetry in the Hazlitt style, or talk stuff about the Spirit of the Age, were most unedifying:  one knows not what to call himself.  However, there is no doubt that were the child born it might be christened; wherefore I will really request you