To Mrs. Jane Clemens and Mrs. Moffett, in Fredonia, N. Y.: 

Hartford, Sunday, 1875.  My dear mother and sister,—­I Saw Gov.  Newell today and he said he was still moving in the matter of Sammy’s appointment—­[As a West Point cadet.]—­and would stick to it till he got a result of a positive nature one way or the other, but thus far he did not know whether to expect success or defeat.

Ma, whenever you need money I hope you won’t be backward about saying so —­you can always have it.  We stint ourselves in some ways, but we have no desire to stint you.  And we don’t intend to, either.

I can’t “encourage” Orion.  Nobody can do that, conscientiously, for the reason that before one’s letter has time to reach him he is off on some new wild-goose chase.  Would you encourage in literature a man who, the older he grows the worse he writes?  Would you encourage Orion in the glaring insanity of studying law?  If he were packed and crammed full of law, it would be worthless lumber to him, for his is such a capricious and ill-regulated mind that he would apply the principles of the law with no more judgment than a child of ten years.  I know what I am saying.  I laid one of the plainest and simplest of legal questions before Orion once, and the helpless and hopeless mess he made of it was absolutely astonishing.  Nothing aggravates me so much as to have Orion mention law or literature to me.

Well, I cannot encourage him to try the ministry, because he would change his religion so fast that he would have to keep a traveling agent under wages to go ahead of him to engage pulpits and board for him.

I cannot conscientiously encourage him to do anything but potter around his little farm and put in his odd hours contriving new and impossible projects at the rate of 365 a year—­which is his customary average.  He says he did well in Hannibal!  Now there is a man who ought to be entirely satisfied with the grandeurs, emoluments and activities of a hen farm—­

If you ask me to pity Orion, I can do that.  I can do it every day and all day long.  But one can’t “encourage” quick-silver, because the instant you put your finger on it it isn’t there.  No, I am saying too much—­he does stick to his literary and legal aspirations; and he naturally would select the very two things which he is wholly and preposterously unfitted for.  If I ever become able, I mean to put Orion on a regular pension without revealing the fact that it is a pension.  That is best for him.  Let him consider it a periodical loan, and pay interest out of the principal.  Within a year’s time he would be looking upon himself as a benefactor of mine, in the way of furnishing me a good permanent investment for money, and that would make him happy and satisfied with himself.  If he had money he would share with me in a moment and I have no disposition to be stingy with him. 
                                   Affly
                                        Sam. 
Livy sends love.