minds are now on the side
of progress, instead of holding by the past, and, should the pinch come,
these may avail to save her better than martinet generals or unwieldy
fleets. The "spirit lacking" in her in 1855 may, perhaps, be found in
them. Whether the spirit in question be as conspicuous with us as it
used to be is another matter.

Henry Bright was still our most frequent visitor, and he brought us the
news and gossip of the world. It was in 1855 that Millais married the
lady who had been Mrs. Ruskin. English society was much fluttered
by this event, and many of Ruskin's friends cut him for a time in
consequence of it. Ruskin was a man of a rare type, not readily
understood in England, where a man is expected, in the fundamental
qualities of his nature at least, to be like everybody else. There are
two noted characters in history with whom, in some respects, he might be
compared, Isaac Newton being one and Abelard the other. All three were
men in whom, owing to causes either natural or accidental, the intellect
was able to absorb all the energies of the nature. The intellect thus
acquired extraordinary power and brilliance, and appropriated to itself,
in a sort of image, as it were, the qualities which no longer possessed
manifestation on the material plane. Nothing out of the way would,
therefore, be noticed, unless or until some combination of circumstances
should bring the exceptional condition into every-day light. This
happened with Ruskin, and he was, of course, unable to regard the
matter in the same light as his critics did. He viewed his wife's
disinclination towards him by the light of mere cold logic; and the
reason his friends were alienated from him was, not that her grounds
of objection to him were justifiable, but that Ruskin (according to the
common report of the time, as quoted by Mr. Bright) did not see why he
and she and Millais should discontinue their life in common as before.
Neither Millais nor Mrs. Ruskin would, of course, accede to this
proposition, and the divorce was accordingly obtained. Ruskin intended
simply to show magnanimity, and in the course of years this was
recognized and he was forgiven, just as we forgive a person for being
color-blind. In our present stage of civilization we must, in certain
matters, follow strict convention on peril of ostracism, and nothing
is less readily condoned in a man's conduct than any suspicion of
complaisance. I did not see either Ruskin or Millais