SHEFFIELD, May 13, 1854.
DEAR EDITOR,—Are we to have fastened upon us this nuisance that is spreading itself among all the newspapers,—I mean the abominable smell caused by the sizing or something else in the manufacture? For a long time it was the "Christian Register" alone that had it, and I used to throw it out of the window to air. Now I perceive the same thing in other papers, and at length it has reached the "Post." Somebody is manufacturing a villanous article for the paper-makers (I state the fact with an awful and portentous generality.) But do you not perceive what the nuisance is? It is a stink, sir. I am obliged to sit on the windward side of the paper while I read its interesting contents, and to wash my hands afterwards—immediately.
But, to change the subject,—yes, toto aelo,-for I turn to something as fragrant as a bed of roses,—will [234] not you and Mrs. Bryant come to see us in June? Do. It is a long time since I have sat on a green bank with you, or anywhere else. I want some of your company, and talk, and wisdom. The first Lowell Lecture I wrote was after a talk with you here, three or four years ago. Come, I pray, and give me an impulse for another course. Bring Julia, too. I will give her my little green room.
I shall be down in New York on business a fortnight hence, and shall see you, and see if we can't fix upon a time.
With all our loves to you all,
Yours as ever,
ORVILLE DEWEY.
Mr. Dewey's father died at the very beginning of his son's career, in 1821, and early in 1855 he lost also his mother from her honored place at his fireside. He was, nevertheless, obliged to leave home in March, to fulfil an engagement made the previous autumn to lecture in Charleston, S. C.
To his Daughter Mary.
CHARLESTON, March 16, 1855.