[Footnote 12:  In the manner described by Mr. W.M.  Rossetti at p. 351, Vol.  I., of “D.G.  Rossetti, his family letters,” to which the reader is referred.]

From these letters, however, several interesting traits and incidents may be gleaned, such as anecdotes about the canary which was anonymously bought at the Crystal Palace Bird Show (February 1866) for the owner’s benefit:  about the shopboy whom Ruskin was going to train as an artist; and about the kindly proposal to employ the aged and impoverished Cruikshank upon a new book of fairy tales, and the struggle between admiration for the man and admission of his loss of power, ending in the free gift of the hundred pounds promised.

In April, 1866, after writing the Preface to “The Crown of Wild Olive,” and preparing the book for publication, Ruskin was carried off to the Continent for a holiday with Sir Walter and Lady Trevelyan, her niece Miss Constance Hilliard (Mrs. Churchill), and Miss Agnew (Mrs. Severn), for a thorough rest and change after three years of unintermitting work in England.  They intended to spend a couple of months in Italy.  On the day of starting, Ruskin called at Cheyne Walk with the usual bouquet for Mrs. Carlyle, to learn that she had just met with her death, in trying to save her little dog, the gift of Lady Trevelyan.  He rejoined his friends, and they crossed the Channel gaily, in spite of what they thought was rather a cloud over him.  At Paris they read the news.  “Yes,” he said, “I knew.  But there was no reason why I should spoil your pleasure by telling you.”

On his arrival at Dijon he wrote to Carlyle, who in answer after giving way to his grief—­“my life all laid in ruins, and the one light of it as if gone out,”—­continued:—­“Come and see me when you get home; come oftener and see me, and speak more frankly to me (for I am very true to y’r highest interests and you) while I still remain here.  You can do nothing for me in Italy; except come home improved.”

But before this letter reached Ruskin, he too had been in the presence of death, and had lost one of his most valued friends.  Their journey to Italy had been undertaken chiefly for the sake of Lady Trevelyan’s health, as the following extracts indicate: 

     “PARIS, 2nd May, 1866.

“Lady Trevelyan is much better to-day, but it is not safe to move her yet—­till to-morrow.  So I’m going to take the children to look at Chartres cathedral—­we can get three hours there, and be back to seven o’clock dinner.  We drove round by St. Cloud and Sevres yesterday; the blossomed trees being glorious by the Seine,—­the children in high spirits.  It reminds me always too much of Turner—­every bend of these rivers is haunted by him.”

     “DIJON, Sunday, 6th May, 1866.