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like markedness into his bow, but that may be his general manner. The Queen looked much younger and prettier than I expected-very like her pictures, even like those which are thought to flatter most-but I only saw the profile-I could not see the front face as I knelt to her, at least without an upturning of the eyes, which I thought would be unseemly-and there were but some two to three seconds allowed for the whole affair. After waiting an hour and three-quarters I think they really might allow people a quarter of a minute each, and time them off. The Queen gave her hand very graciously, but looked bored; poor thing, well she might be, with about a quarter of a square mile of people to bow to.

I met two people whom I have not seen this many a day-Kildare and Scott Murray¹-had a chat with the former and a word with Murray but nothing of interest. Dearest love to my mother.-Ever, my dearest father, your most affec. son,

JOHN RUSKIN.

MY DEAREST FATHER,-We got through gloriously, though at one place there was the most awkward crush I ever saw in my life-the pit at the Surrey, which I never saw, may, perhaps, show the like-nothing else. The floor was covered with the ruins of ladies’ dresses, torn lace, and fallen flowers; but Effie was luckily out of it, and got through unscathed, and heard people saying, “What a beautiful dress!” just as she got up to the Queen. It was fatiguing enough, but not so awkward as I expected. Effie had no difficulty nor was in any embarrassment. I hope to be out to-morrow early. Dearest love to my mother.-Ever, my dearest father, your most affec. son,

JOHN RUSKIN.

The gaieties of the London Season did not conduce to speedy progress with his book, nor, it would seem, to his satisfaction in any respect. In a letter to his father of Feb. 8, 1852, containing an account of his stewardship of time and health, he says that in the spring of 1850 he “came home very well and set to write my book. But then came three months of society, and late hours; then after a little useless trip in the autumn, good hard work and a great deal of worry with the engravers, writing Stones of Venice all winter.”

The “worry with the engravers” was no inconsiderable portion of the work which Ruskin gave himself in preparing The Stones of Venice and the later volumes of Modern Painters. He took legitimate pride in being the only considerable author of the time who was competent to

¹ Christ Church friends: see Præterita, i. ch. xi. § 236.

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