Letter from Adalbert Kehr to Konrad Joseph
May 1880

My old friend,

My apologies for not sending you my address earlier. Looking back now, I see this winter as one long bout of melancholia (who would have thought that life in a city like Leipzig could be lonelier than my existence in the Abbey!)--but all that is over now--and I am filled with energy. The breezes and birds of Spring may have something to do with it, but I trace the current elevation of my spirits to a more prosaic source--at last I have an interesting project at work--I have been assigned to the laboratory of Johann Karl Friedrich Zöllner!

It embarrasses me to admit that one month ago, I did not recognize Herr Professor Zöllner's name. I knew as little of his work as I knew of the functions of the innumerable precision glass beakers whose specifications I spent the winter translating into Spanish and Portuguese (two languages in which I am only minimally competent). But dear Joseph, I am sure that you, as a book store owner and a student of all things practical, have followed Herr Professor's career at the frontiers of photometry, spectroscopy, and astral physics. He is currently working on a most amazing invention, of which I am allowed to say very little, except that it is called a dimensionomanometer, and that it will provide direct access to the fourth dimension through a new kind of optical illusion. There are those who say that Herr Professor has lost his mind (even some of my colleagues in the Patent Office share this opinion)--they say that the scientist has fallen under the influence of an American Spiritualist, and that his invention is nothing more than the contrivance of a fortune teller, or a stage set for a seance (have I mentioned that from the outside, it looks like a large box, but from the inside reveals itself to be a room suspended within a mirrored room? That is all I can say!) To all the naysayers I reply: Herr Professor Z is the most brilliant man I have every met, a true German!

The translation of the dimensionomanometer's patent into English is of overriding importance to Herr Professor--there are certain skeptics in London and New York City that he is most eager to silence--and thus it has been my privilege to work closely with him for many long hours. What a charming and learned man he is! His knowledge of Middle High German verse exceeds anyone I've ever met, outside the little guild of professional philologists, among whose ranks I barely count myself. He has introduced me to the music of Richard Wagner, his close friend (how well he play's Wagner's music on the piano!) and urges me to join some of his like-minded lab assistants in a pilgrimage this summer to the festival in Bayreuth.) When our work on the dimensionomanometer is done, I plan to show him my translation of the Heinrichlied. I have shown it no one, dear Joseph, since I sent it to you. I will admit that the excessive formality of your reply gave me pause, but I do not hold it against you. How could I, when my mood soars each morning at the thought of the day ahead!

I remember how much fun we had in Gotha. Was it really only five years ago? How young we were!

Yours ever,

Adalbert