go down, for the diligence is stopped.  You may run the chance of missing one or two therefore.  I am quite well, and very comfortable—­sitting on Joseph’s knapsack laid on the stone.  The fog is about as thick as that of London in November,—­only white; and I see nothing near me but fields of dampish snow with black stones in it.”

And then: 

     “MONTANVERT, August 22.

“I cannot say that on the whole the aiguilles have treated me well.  I went up Saturday, Monday and Tuesday to their feet, and never obtained audience until to-day, and then they retired at twelve o’clock; but I have got a most valuable memorandum.”

The parental view was put thus: 

     GENEVA, Monday, August 20, 1849.

     “MY DEAREST JOHN,

“I do not know if you have got all my letters, fully explaining to you in what way the want of a single letter, on two occasions, did so much mischief—­made such havoc in our peace.  I think my last Thursday’s letter entered on it.  We are grateful for many letters—­that have come.  It was merely the accident of the moment when first by illness and then by precipices we were most anxious—­being exactly the moment the letters took it into their heads to be not forthcoming.  Not writing so often would only keep us more in the dark, with little less anxiety.  Please say if you get a letter every day....”

Space can hardly be afforded for more than samples of this voluminous correspondence, or interesting quotations might be given about the “ghost-hunt yesterday and a crystal-hunt to-day,” and life at the Montanvert, until at last (August 28): 

“I have taken my place in diligence for Thursday, and hope to be with you in good time.  But I quite feel as if I were leaving home to go on a journey.  I shall not be melancholy, however, for I have really had a good spell of it....  Dearest love to my mother.  I don’t intend to write again.

     “Ever, my dearest father,

     “Your most affectionate son,

     “J.  RUSKIN.”

CHAPTER IV

“STONES OF VENICE” (1849-1851)

A book about Venice had been planned in 1845, during Ruskin’s first long working visit.  He had made so many notes and sketches both of architecture and painting that the material seemed ready to hand; another visit would fill up the gaps in his information; and two or three months’ hard writing would work the subject off, and set him free to continue “Modern Painters.”  So before leaving home in 1849, he had made up his mind that the next work would be “The Stones of Venice,” which, on the appearance of “The Seven Lamps,” was announced by the publishers as in preparation.