In the next chapter he worked out, as a sequel to his lecture, two groups of Animal-myths; those connected with birds, and especially the dove, as type of Spirit, and those connected with the serpent in its various significances.  These two studies were continued, more or less, in “Love’s Meinie” and in the lecture printed in “Deucalion,” as the third group, that of Plant-myths, was carried on in “Proserpina.”  The volume contained also extracts from the lecture on the Architecture of the Valley of the Somme, and two numbers of the “Cestus of Aglaia,” and closed with a paper on The Hercules of Camarina, read to the South Lambeth Art School on March 15th.  This study of a Greek coin had already formed the subject of an address at the Working Men’s College, and anticipated the second course of Oxford Lectures.  For the rest, “The Queen of the Air” is marked by its statement, more clearly than before in Ruskin’s writing, of the dependence of moral upon physical life, and of physical upon moral science.  He speaks with respect of the work of Darwin and Tyndall; but as formerly in the Rede Lecture, and afterwards in the “Eagle’s Nest,” he claims that natural science should not be pursued as an end in itself, paramount to all other conclusions and considerations; but as a department of study subordinate to ethics, with a view to utility and instruction.

Before this book was quite ready for publication, and after a sale of some of his less treasured pictures at Christie’s he left home for a journey to Italy, to revisit the subjects of “Stones of Venice,” as in 1868 he had revisited those of the “Seven Lamps.”  At Vevey, on the way, he wrote his preface (May 1st).

By quiet stages he passed the Simplon, writing from Domo d’Ossola, 5th May, 1869: 

“I never yet had so beautiful a day for the Simplon as this has been; though the skin of my face is burning now all over—­to keep me well in mind of its sunshine.  I left Brieg at 6 exactly—­light clouds breaking away into perfect calm of blue.  Heavy snow on the col—­about a league—­with the wreaths in many places higher than the carriage.  Then, white crocus all over the fields, with Soldanelle and Primula farinosa.  I walked about three miles up, and seven down, with great contentment; the waterfalls being all in rainbows, and one beyond anything I ever yet saw; for it fell in a pillar of spray against shadow behind, and became rainbow altogether.  I was just near enough to get the belt broad, and the down part of the arch:  and the whole fall became orange and violet against deep shade.  To-morrow I hope to get news of you all, at Baveno.”

     “BAVENO, Thursday, 6th May, 1869.