_January 22nd, 1883._ DEAR MALLESON,--I am heartily glad to hear that you are better, and that you are going to lead the Vicar of Wakefield's quiet life. I am not stronger myself, but think it right to keep hold of the Oxford Helm, as long as they care to trust it to me. I've entirely given up reviewing, but if the Editor of the _Contemporary_ would send me Mr. Peek's Article, when set up, I might perhaps send a note or two on it, which the real reviewer might use or not at his pleasure. In the meantime it would greatly oblige me if the Editor could give me the reference to an old article of mine on Herbert Spencer, (or at least on a saying of his), which I cannot find where I thought it was in the _Nineteenth Century_, and suppose therefore to have been in the _Contemporary_ before the _Nineteenth Century_ Athena arose out of its cleft head. The Article had a lot about Coniston in it, but I quite forget what else it was about. I think it must have been just before the separation. Kindest regards and congratulations on your convalescence from all here. Ever affectionately yours, J. RUSKIN. 51. BRANTWOOD, _February 6th, 1883_. MY DEAR MALLESON,--I'm nearly beside myself with a sudden rush of work on my return from abroad, and resumption of Oxford duties, and I simply _cannot_ yet think over the business of the letters, the rather that _I_ certainly never would re-publish most of those clergymen's letters at all. My own were a gift to you, and I am quite ready to print _them_ if you like, and let you have half profits, the St. George's Guild having the other. But that could not be for some time yet. Ever affectionately yours, J. RUSKIN. EPILOGUE BY MR. RUSKIN BRANTWOOD, CONISTON, _June 1880_.