come, "it came with violence, utterly rampant and
unmanageable, at least to me, who never before had anything to manage."

He lived in a world of his own dreams for a long time, endowing the
object of his affections with every grace and charm. He was an exacting
as well as a passionate lover, and the lady was of far cooler blood than
he. But after a variety of experiences, such as fall to the lot of most
lovers, the lady became his wife. Of course the world knows little of
the inner secrets of that married life, for John Ruskin is not a man to
cry his sorrows in the market-place; but the world does know that the
marriage proved very unhappy, and that it was finally followed by a
separation. Of course there was a world of scandal at the time, which is
now happily forgotten; for all this was very, very long ago, and the
first scandal was as nothing compared to that which followed the lady's
marriage with Millais, the artist of whom London is so proud. There was
no moral blame imputed to either party at the time of the separation;
and it was understood to have been only one of the numerous cases of
incompatibility, of which the world is so full.

This most deplorable event in Ruskin's life was followed by long years
of seclusion. He had never gone much into society, but after this he
lived in almost utter solitude for years, writing his wonderful books,
and making long stays in Venice and other distant cities. He was born to
wealth, and never had to trouble himself about the more prosaic affairs
of the world. In this country we have had until recently no large
leisure class, and those who are now taking that place are few in
number, and seem utterly at a loss how to pass their time amid the
business and bustle of our hurrying life. More and more are they going
to Europe, as is natural; for there they find people like themselves,
and multitudes of them, who have nothing to do, and who therefore seek
to enjoy their leisure. With such a man as Ruskin this was not
difficult, and he became a hard worker, not from necessity, but from the
pressure from within. He never made or sought to make any money from his
books, but they gave him great delight in the writing, and brought him
fame, which he did not disdain. One of the cardinal principles of his
morality has always been that poverty is no bar to happiness, but that
all that is best in life is open to poor as well as rich. This he
proclaimed loudly in lectures to workingmen, w