schisms. These clergy would be confined to pastoral care, and have no right to preach their vary. ing views of dogma. Names, of course, matter nothing in schemes of this sort; but in calling these officers "bishops" and suggesting that they should have the oversight of a hundred families each, Mr. Ruskin points to the practice of the primitive church. Though at this time he had renounced any definite belief in ordinary religion, he did not think that human nature, as a whole, would or could become completely irreligious; but he leaves it quite open to the families of his ideal state whether they will admit the ministrations of their bishops, or not.

Finally, he adapted the feudalism of the Middle Ages, in the sense that the whole body politic would be distinctly organic, and not anarchic; that its organization would be based on a military scheme. He had said, in "The Crown of Wild Olive," that a military despotism is the only cure for a diseased society; and while minimizing the occasions and opportunities for war, he felt that, to effect the development of the present "dark age" into a more perfect civilization, some use of force would be necessary in the administration. Believing strongly in human nature, he did not pretend that everybody is virtuous. Laws must be made, and laws must be administered; and to do this effectively requires the strong hand. In his state every man would be a soldier (as in Switzerland); but just as in the guilds some would

necessarily be differentiated into mastership, so, in the whole of society, individuals and families would rise into eminence and take the lead. And as the captains, judges, bishops, and schoolmasters would be salaried state officials, so to these distinguished men and families he would be glad to assign such moderate incomes as might keep them in the public service, with such estates in land as might afford them the means of exemplifying the arts and graces of life; not to be landlords, but only the tenants of the state, just as the agriculturists, through their guild (if I understand rightly) are to have the use of the soil rent-free.

I trust I have fairly, though too briefly, represented the gist of this book, and, as I take it, the central work of the life of John Ruskin. I do not see my way to labeling his political system with a name, any more than his artistic system. As to criticising it, that must be done by the reader (after reasonable study of the original work) from his own standpoint; and standpoints are too

many and too various to enumerate. I would only remark that, as I said, the scheme has the support of a historical analogy; that it is in harmony with modern scientific views of the evolution of mankind; that it is elastic enough to give play to the varying aims of individuals and classes; and that, since it does not premise universal virtue, nor promise universal happiness, it is not rightly described as Utopian.

Before this work was ended, Carlyle had come

back to Chelsea, and was begging his friend, in the warmest terms, to come and see him. Shortly afterward, a passage which Mr. Ruskin would not retract gave offense to Carlyle. But the difference was healed, and later letters reveal the sage of Chelsea just as kindly and affectionate as ever. It is a poor friendship that is broken by a free speech; and this friendship between the two greatest writers of their age, between two men, we may add, of vigorous individuality, outspoken opinions, and widely different tastes and sympathies, is a fine episode in the history of both.

In May, Mr. Ruskin was invited to Cambridge to receive the honorary degree of LL. D., and to deliver the Rede Lecture. The "Cambridge Chronicle" of May 25, 1867, says: "The body of the Senate House was quite filled with M. A.'s and ladies, principally the latter, whilst there was a large attendance of undergraduates in the galleries, who gave the lecturer a most enthusiastic reception." A brief report of the lecture was printed in the newspaper; but as it was never otherwise published, and the manuscript seems to have been lost, all but the first page, I take the liberty of copying the opening sentences as a specimen of that academical oratory which Mr. Ruskin then adopted, and used habitually in his earlier lectures at Oxford.

The title of the discourse was "The Relation of National Ethics to National Arts:" "In entering on the duty to-day intrusted to me, I

should hold it little respectful to my audience if I disturbed them by expression of the diffidence which they know that I must feel in first speaking in this Senate House; diffidence which might well have prevented me from accepting such duty, but ought not to interfere with my endeavor simply to fulfill it. Nevertheless, lest the direction which I have been led to give to my discourse, and the narrow limits within which I am compelled to confine the treatment of its subject, may seem in any wise inconsistent with the purpose of the founder of this lecture, or with the expectations of those by whose authority I am appointed to deliver it, let me at once say that I obeyed their command, not thinking myself able to teach any dogma in the philosophy of the arts which could be of any new interest to the members of this university: but only that I might obtain the sanction of their audience for the enforcement upon other minds of the truth whichafter thirty years spent in the study of art, not dishonestly, however feebly-is manifest to me as the clearest of all that I have learned, and urged upon me as the most vital of all I have to declare."

He then distinguished between true and false art, the true depending upon sincerity, whether in literature, music, or the formative arts; he reinforced his old doctrine of the dignity of true imagination as the attribute of healthy and earnest minds; and energetically attacked the commer

cial art-world of the day, and the notion that drawing-schools were to be supported for the sake of the gain they would bring to our manufacturers. "Mr. Ruskin concluded his lecture," says the "Chronicle," "with a very fine peroration, the first part of which he addressed to the younger members of the academic body, the second to the elder. On the younger men he urged the infinite importance of a life of virtue and the fact that the hereafter must be spent in God's presence or in darkness. Their time in this miracle of a universe was but as a moment; with one brief astounded gaze of awe they looked on all around them, saw the planets roll, heard the sound of the sea, and beheld the surroundings of the earth; they were opened for a moment as a sheet of lightning, and then instantly closed again. Their highest ambition during so short a stay should be to be known for what they were, to spend those glittering days in view of what was to come after them. Then on the Masters of this, which had for years been preeminent as the school of science, he urged that their continued prosperity must rest on their observance of the command of their Divine Master, in whose name they existed as a society, -'Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness.' . . . All mere abstract knowledge, independent of its tendency to a holy life, was useless. . . . His concluding remarks were an eloquent exhortation to the seniors diligently to perform the solemn trust given to them