"You will never believe it; but I have actually been trying to draw--a baby. _The_ baby which the priest is holding in the little copy of Tintoret by Edward Jones which my father liked so much, over the basin stand in his bedroom.[19] All the knowledge I have gained in these 17 years only makes me more full of awe and wonder at Tintoret. But it _is_ so sad--so sad;--no one to care for him but me, and all going so fast to ruin. He has done that infant Christ in about five minutes--and I worked for two hours in vain, and could not tell _why_ in vain--the mystery of his touch is so great." [Footnote 19: Mr. and Mrs Burne-Jones had been in Venice in June, 1862; the artist, then young and comparatively unknown, with a commission to copy for Ruskin.] Final farewell was said to Verona on the 10th August, for the homeward journey by the St. Gothard, and Giessbach, where he found the young friend of 1866 now near her end--and Thun, where he met Professor C.E. Norton. On the way he wrote: "Lugano, _Saturday, 14th August_, 1869. "My Dearest Mother, "Yesterday--exactly three months from the day on which I entered Verona to begin work, I made a concluding sketch of the old Broletto of Como, which I drew first for the 7 lamps[20]--I know not how many years ago,--and left Italy, for this time--having been entirely well and strong every day of my quarter of a year's sojourn there. [Footnote 20: "Stones of Venice," Vol. I., plate 5.] "This morning, before breakfast, I was sitting for the first time before Luini's Crucifixion: for all religious-art qualities the greatest picture south of the Alps--or rather, in Europe. "And just after breakfast I got a telegram from my cousin George announcing that I am Professor of Art--the first--at the University of Oxford. "Which will give me as much power as I can well use--and would have given pleasure to my poor father--and therefore to me--once.... It will make no difference in my general plans, about travel, etc. I shall think quietly of it as I drive up towards St. Gothard to-day. "Ever, my dearest mother, ever your loving son, "J. Ruskin."