the squirrel in the oak, the thousand-footed
creeper in the dust, as they share with us the gift of life, share with us
the love of an ideal: strive like us,--like us are tempted to grow weary
of the struggle,--to do well; like us receive at times unmerited
refreshment, visitings of support, returns of courage; and are condemned
like us to be crucified between that double law of the members and the
will. Are they like us, I wonder, in the timid hope of some reward, some
sugar with the drug? Do they, too, stand aghast at unrewarded virtues, at
the sufferings of those whom, in our partiality, we take to be just, and
the prosperity of such as, in our blindness, we call wicked? It may be;
and yet God knows what they should look for. Even while they look, even
while they repent, the foot of man treads them by thousands in the dust,
the yelping hounds burst upon their trail, the bullet speeds, the knives
are heating in the den of the vivisectionist; or the dew falls, and the
generation of a day is blotted out. For these are creatures compared with
whom our weakness is strength, our ignorance wisdom, our brief span
eternity.

And as we dwell, we living things, in our isle of terror and under the
imminent hand of death, God forbid it should be man the erected, the
reasoner, the wise in his own eyes--God forbid it should be man that
wearies in well-doing, that despairs of unrewarded effort, or utters the
language of complaint. Let it be enough for faith, that the whole creation
groans in mortal frailty, strives with unconquerable constancy--surely not
all in vain.

JOHN RUSKIN

THE MYSTERY OF LIFE AND ITS ARTS[8]

When I accepted the privilege of addressing you to-day, I was not aware of
a restriction with respect to the topics of discussion which may be
brought before this Society[9]--a restriction which, though entirely wise
and right under the circumstances contemplated in its introduction, would
necessarily have disabled me, thinking as I think, from preparing any
lecture for you on the subject of art in a form which might be permanently
useful. Pardon me, therefore, in so far as I must transgress such
limitation; for indeed my infringement will be of the letter--not of the
spirit--of your commands. In whatever I may say touching the religion
which has been the foundation of art, or the policy which has contributed
to its power, if I offend one, I shall offend all; for I shall take no
note of any separations in