JOHN RUSKIN.

Otago Witness, Issue 1894, 9 March 1888, Page 32

JOHN RUSKIN.

John Ruskin was born in London in 1819, and educated at Christ Church, Oxford, •where he gained the Newdigate prize for poetry (" Salsette and Elephanta") in 1830. When a youth he studied under Copley Fielding and Harding, and soon became enamoured of Turner's glorious works, then but little appreciated. Turner's splendid "Antwerp" was first sold for £300. It sold the other day at (isoogs. Ruskin's advocacy of the claims of Turner to the admiration of the world began by a letter he wrote in his defence to "Blackwood's Magazine." This developed into the first volumne of "Modern Painters," which was a great success, and was also bitterly attacked. He resided some time in Italy, and published tbe remaining volumes of " Modern Painters," between 1546 and 18150. He had previously written the " Seven Lamps of Architecture " (1849), and the " Stones of Venice " (1851 and 185S). He was appointed Rede Lecturer at Cambridge (18(i7), and Slade Professor oil Fine Art at Oxford (1«7S), but he retired from this position in 1878 in consequence of illnoss. He again accepted the chair in 18S3, and finally vacated it in ISSfj, owing to the action of the university on the question of vivisection. Besides publishing a jjroat many miscellaneous works, including " Notes on the Construction of Sheep folds," which a simple - minded farmer bought for practical instruction nn the -uibjocOmd was very disappointed and bewildered by its content?, he gave to the world "Political Economy in Art," "Two Paths," " Unto this Last," " Sesame and Lilies," " Ethics of the Dust," " Queen of

the Air," "Crown of Wild Olive," and "Ariadne FlorenthW In 1871 he commenced his priceless series of letters entitled " Fors Clavigera," which he explained meant " Dead, Patience, and Love." These beautiful letters deal in a strikingly original and exquisitely beautiful way with nearly every subject interesting to people of thought, culture, and refinement. This publication, consisting of 96 numbers, was finally closed in December 1884. Mr Ruskin is now engaged on his autobiography, to the publication of which the civilised world looks forward with eager interest. Mr Ruskin rises early, and writes for three hours before his guests are down. Breakfast over, he retires to his study to answer letters or complete some piece of unfinished work, or Will go out on the hill, perhaps, and make a delicately-finished study of rock and grass for the engraver's hand to copy. Between 1 and 6 o'clock, the tourist at the lakes may see a slight figure dressed in a grey frock-coat, and wearing the bright blue tie so familiar to audiences at Oxford and elsewhere, walking about the quiet lanes, sitting down by the harbour's side, or rowing on the water. The back is somewhat bent, the light brown hair straight and long, the whiskers scarcely show signs of eight-and-fifty summers numbered, and the spectator need not be surprised at the determined energy with which a boat is brought to shore or pushed out into the lake. Sometimesaf ri end breaks in on thispeaceful time, and is met with both hands outstretched, while the gentle look in the clear blue eyes and a few low-voiced words give him full assurance that he is entirely welcome. To such the place is gladly shown, and a walk is taken up the grass paths cut through the woods, with seats placed where the views are best, to look out over mountain and lake, and be taught, maybe, in the rich colours and fleecy clouds, the utter Tightness of Turner'; till, ascending higher, an admiring eye must be cast on a piece of rough ground, red with heather, which, lying just beyond the boundaries of Brantwood, is the professor's Naboth's Vineyard. Mr Ruskin's sensitive nature is singularly affected by changes of weather, and a bright day makes him as joyful as a dull one makes him sad. But courtesy and kindness to those around him are characteristics he never loses ; insincerity is a fault of which he is thoroughly devoid ; and those who know him best delight in an unaffected simplicity of manner, which in men of acknowledged genius is as valuable as it is often rare. — London Society.