Lancaster, Dom. Exaudi,

May 13, 1866.

 

To His Excellency,

North America.

 

            Do not laugh at me, or call me a fool, when, in my spiritual vision, I prophesy, that, at some future time, you my dear young friend, will be exalted to that high and glorious station, although myself shall not live to see it with mortal eyes, for then—in all probability—they will be closed in death. It will, however, partly depend on circumstances, but more particularly, it will depend upon yourself, to reach that high goal. And, I verily believe, you will reach it one day, provided you make a proper use of the fine talents and the splendid faculties, with which the Lord has evidently blessed and endowed you, and embrace every opportunity of improving your mind. /

 

Perhaps, my dear friend, you may have thought that, during the long period of my silence, I had gone to my final home; no, such is not the case, as these poor signs of my hand will show and satisfy you. These few lines will convince you, that I am still above ground; although I am rather in a suffering condition, on account of my sore foot—and let me say that this sore evil is one of the causes (or reasons) of my long delay in answering your kind letter of the date of December 21^st, 1865. In reply to the same, I am compelled to confine myself to a few general remarks; for it contains, among other things, some most important and momentous subjects, for the discussion of which I feel myself incapable at present.

 

            Now, I cannot deny, that, for a while, I thought and felt myself neglected, or even altogether forgotten by you, my dear friend, by reason of your long delay in answering my last letter to you. But do, by no means, believe that this was, or is, the cause of my long procrastination in replying to your favor of the 21^st of December. On the contrary, I would have answered the same / forthwith, had it not been for several causes or reasons, which prevented me from doing so. In the first place, I had, just at that time, a world of letters from my European friends, of an anterior date, that waited for an answer, and it is but of late that I wrote and forwarded a letter so voluminous that it resembled an executive document, or a detailed report, rather than an ordinary letter, in which i gave them a partial review of the late great rebellion and the terrible civil war, consequent upon it, and sketched a picture of the Southern slavedrivers, as well as the Northern copperheads or traitors to their country.

 

            On the second place, I beg leave, as a ground or reason for excuse, to call your attention to a fact, already alluded to above—namely my sore foot, that great misery and vexation—which several times when I intended to write, prevented me from executing my design, and even now compels me to haste to the conclusion—or else I would have written a longer letter. /

 

            In the third place—I have, what, when yet a youth, my brothers and sisters, by way of a joke, used to call me, now indeed become—an "Old man" ([written in German]), and it is hard for me now, in my old age, each day of the week (Sunday, of course, excepted) to stand working, ten long hours, on a very sore foot. In the evening, therefore, I feel quite exhausted (more especially in the hot summer months), so that then I am hardly able to read a newspaper, much less to write a letter, etc., thus having for my dispostion only the few hours of a Sunday.

 

            In my next letter—if the Lord spares my life and preserves my health—I intend giving you a description of a "comfortable adventure"—if I may be allowed to call it so—which I experienced in a former period of my sojourn or pilgrimage in America, the reading of which, I warrant you, will almost split your sides with laughing. You may preserve it, in memory of me, in order that, when you shall be sitting in the Presidential chair, the occasional reading of it may soothe and relieve your cares, which undoubtedly you will experience as President of the United States of America,—and remember then your old "Dutch" friend,

                        Charles Kretschmar.

 

(My best respects to your family.)

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