London, 9 July 1886 

Dear Old Comrade, 

I put off answering your letter for a few days as I wanted to wait 
and see whether I could find some way of entering into your Paris 
scheme. °°? I couldn’t, alas, if only because 

1) I am tied down in England through having to attend to the 
proof-correction and publication of the English translation of Capital 
which is now printing °°; nor could I leave this to anyone else even if 
I were not bound by my contract. 

2) For the past 3 months, however, I have again become an in- 
valid, 200 or 300 paces being the most I can manage, and am depen- 
dent on all sorts of medical persons; the business is just génant,* no 
more, but at any moment complications might set in if I didn’t take 
things easy, so there can be no question of a long journey. And even 
if, as ] hope, 1 am more mobile this autumn, I really must do my ut- 
most this time to rid myself for good of this old trouble by which 
I have been crippled off and on during the past three years, and that 
means doing nothing that might bring about a relapse. I simply must 
get to the stage of being able to walk for 2 or 3 hours on end, other- 
wise I shall be done for and unable to do any sustained work. I had 
thought that, during the past fortnight, I might get to the stage of 
being able to register a positive improvement, but it’s taking longer 
than I imagined. 

Well, with luck we might be able to make some other arrangement. 
For once in Paris, you might just as well cross the Channel and spend 
a little while here. I would gladly bear the cost, and your stay over 
here wouldn’t cost you a penny. In August I am being sent to the sea- 
side to recuperate and in September I shall have visitors from the 
provinces, from Germany and most likely also the Lafargues from Paris 
and, since I only have one spare room, putting up all these people will 

* inconvenient 

be none too easy. But in October it will all be over and I shall be able 
to let you have the room any time you like, and should be delighted 
to see you here. Then we could also talk things over and exchange all 

our news at greater leisure than in Paris where, after all, one is never 
on one’s own. 

So make up your mind. By October, too, my urgent work will be so 
far advanced that I shall be able to shelve everything else; I also hope 
to have made sufficient progress to tipple again. If, by the by, you 
would rather come here in September, let me know; either way, I’m 
sure it can be managed. There are all sorts of things that still remain 
to be discussed and, above all, you have so much information — 
known, as you say, to no one else — about the historical origins of the 
movement to pass on to me, that it would be a crying shame if we 
didn’t do our utmost to foregather once again and get all this off our 
chests. 

I haven’t yet had a chance to put Marx’s papers in order, a job 
that would take me at least a month. Perhaps I shall get round to it in 
the autumn, for done it has got to be, and done before the days grow 
too short. 

I am taking out another five pound money order for you which 
I hope will reach you soon after, or at the same time as, this 
letter. 

So do make up your mind. I look forward immensely to seeing you 
again and discussing things with you face to face. If I were as steady 
on my pins as you, I should come to Geneva— but as it is! Well, I 
expect you to do it in my stead, and come over here. 

Your old friend 
F. Engels