To Professor H. Story Maskelyne, F.R.S.

Mornex, 1st Jan., 1863.

Dear Maskelyne,—Many Happy New Years to you—and unwearied eyes—and every possible felicity of cleavage to fortune. I believe these three wishes will be brought to you by the Bishop of Natal, who may be glad to refresh himself with a little secure geology after the sandy study of Theology. Seriously, I shall be grateful to you if you can give Dr. Colenso any kind of help in research—or in sympathy. No man has, in these days, a harder battle to fight—or fewer allies—or a better cause, or a truer heart. I wish I were nearer him, for if I'm good for little else, I never failed of plain speaking for fear of the consequences (and never for want of words, by the way, now and then). How about my chalcedonies?

The above address will find me whenever you've anything to say.—Ever most truly yours,

J. Ruskin.

To his Father

Mornex, 2nd January, 1863.

No letter to-day, but papers in plenty. Is not somebody deprived of them for my good? I can do quite well with Times if anybody would like the Posts.

This has been the loveliest day I ever saw in the Alps. Entirely without cloud; and in the lower air, dead calm, a silence unparalleled—for in summer there are insects humming, grasshoppers chirping—birds—and voices—one hears the leaves grow almost. But to-day it was the stillness of midnight with the light of Paradise.