HORTUS INCLUSUS.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXIV, Issue 8916, 3 December 1887, Page 2 (Supplement)

HORTUS INCLUSUS.

MR. RUSKIN'S NEW BOOK.

This delightful selection from Mr. Ruakin's correspondence with Miss Susan Beever, of The Thwaite, Conißton, will oomo somewhat as a revelation to many readers. For severity in denunciation, polish to a fault, and brilliancy of periods (says the Scotsman), Mr, Ruskin is well known to the public ; this little peep into his private life shows him to possess the playfulness of a kitten. Not, indeed, that even here he is uniformly happy or contented. Beyond the discontent with things in general, such as a man of poetic temperament must occasionally combat, we have here glimpses of the gloom which is caused by private sorrow, a sorrow which, apparently, years cannot remove. Flirting with his "dear Susie," congratulating himself that her age makes her more nearly a sister than a mother to him, opening to her his heart on all topics, and finding her the only mortal who can really sympathise with and understand him, he yet deplores that he has not a " helpmeet." Some of the passages in which this feeling is recorded are peculiarly pathetic. Writing from Assisi in June, 1874, he says :— "The letter to one's Susie should be a rest, do you think ? It is always more or less comforting, but not rest; it means further employment of the already strained sensational power. What one really wants 1 I believe the only true restorative iB the natural one; the actual presence of one's ' helpmeet.' The far worse than absence of mine reverses rest, and, what is more, destroys one's power of receiving from others or giving. How much love of mine have others lost because that poor sick child would not have the part of love that belonged to her 1"

And, again, in the same month, when he aas been ridiculing the "evangelical perBona." who think that "our sun was made for them," he continues : — "All, Susie, X do not pass, unthought of, the many sorrows of which you kindly tell me, to show mefor that is in your hearthow others have Buffered also. But, Susie, you expect to see your Margaret again, and you Will be happy with her in Heaven. I wanted my Kobio here, In Heaven I mean to go and "talk to Pythagoras, and Socrates, and Valerius Publicola. I shan't care a bit for Roaie there ; she needn't think it. What will grey eyea and red cheeks be good for there?''

The letters, however, do not profess to be autobiography. They simply reflect the writer's fleeting thoughts, often on the lightest of subjects. Here and there, of course, he cannot avoid topics of the class which he professes to teach. There are fragmentary hints on painting and mediseval thought, and light flashes bearing on the discussions of the present age. In July, 1874, he writes :— " You£ltvely letters are always a com* fort to mo; and no- least when you tell me you are sacl.'-f You would be far less in sympathy with me if you were not, and In the 'everything right' humour of some, even of some really good and kind persons, whocj own matters are to their mind, and who understand by 'Providence' the power which particularly takes care of them. This favourit- ism which goes so sweetly and pleasantly down with so many pious people ia the chief of all stumbling - blocks to me. I must pray for everybody or nobody, and can't get into any conception of relation between Heaven and me, if not also between Heaven and earth (and why Heaven should allow haira in pens I can't think)." The opening letters are mostly from Italy, and here and there in them one comes across delicious little sketches of the writer's impressions. At Assist he lived in a Franciscan convent, and wrote, in the May Fors Clavigera, his thoughts upon the temptations to the life of a Franciscan :—

"There are two monks here, one the sacristan, who has charge of the entire church, and is responsible for its treasures ; the other exercising what authority is left to the convent among the people of the town. They are both so good, and innocent, and sweet one can't pity them enough. For this time in Italy is just like the .Reformation in Scotland, with only the difference that the Reform movement is carried on here simply for the sake of what money can be got by Church confiscation. And these two brothers are living by indulgence, as the abbot in the Monastery of St. Mary'* in the Regent Moray's time. The people of the village, however, are all true to the faith ; it is only the governing body which is modern-infidel and radical." The volume is charmingly simple in style and thought; the reason for which may possibly be that the letters were never intended to see daylight. Mr. Buskin and Misa Beever, however, were persuaded by Mr. Albert Fleming to allow a selection to be made ; and readers will be grateful for them.