The book and photographs (for Ruskin)2 have arrived safely, and as soon as I hear from Ruskin of their receival by him I will let you know. At present he is away from home, and I have written to him to ask where he will have them addressed to.
When I sent him the 'extracts', I did not imagine it possible that he had never heard of you, and even now I feel sure he must have heard of you, but have taken little notice of the hearing, as so much that he hears is so loc.03353.002.jpg unworthy of rememrance . But when he read the extracts, he seemed to be astonished, for I have never before heard of him using such a term as 'glorious' respecting any writings.
A little over a year ago, he had a brain fever, and I think that has caused him to forget many things he previously remembered. But if he had read your writings, I feel sure he would not have forgotten you altogether.
Ruskin is a great, good man. He is not only a beautiful writer, but a beautiful worker, and he loc.03353.003.jpg will always do what he thinks he should do, even at the hazard of 'death' or disrepute. But I will write more of him in another letter.
What I have in me to say to you on my own account cannot be uttered in any words. Through poverty and calumny you have been a constant encourager and faithful and beloved supporter. You have indeed led me into strifes but you have rendered infinite help, and, though I may have 'grinned,' I have steadfastly borne the temporary pain and loc.03353.004.jpg have continued faithful.
You translated hitherto hidden languages for me; you opened my eyes, which had before been only partly open. You set me to work.
The Companions were hard to find, in the body, but until they appeared I had consolatation with the old companions and those yet to come—for I am a dreamer also.
Now I have found a few companions—all 'poor'—but your faithful lovers. Of these I hope to write to you in a future letter.
It would be for me the greatest pleasure to be