The mirror. (Stillwater, Minn.) 1894-1925, 1900-04-05
A MESSAGE TO THE
10Th CENTURY.

place of peace, the shelter not only
from all injury, but from all doubt and
division; to see that it is the sacred
place, the vestal temple-a temple of
the hearth, where none can enter but
those who can be received with love.
So far as it is this, roof and fire are
types of a nobler shade and light:
shade as OF the rock in weary land,
and light as of the Pharos in the
stormy sea.
Does he not give one grand lesson
for all, that whatever our station in
life may be, our first duty is to live on
as little as we can ?-to do all the
wholesome work we can and to spend
all we can spare in doing the greatest
good?
He tells us that in all other paths by
which happiness is pursued, there is
disappointment and destruction. For
ambition and for passion, there is no
rest, no fruition. The fairest pleasures
of youth perish in a darkness greater
than their past light. 1 know of no
message so needful. L know of no
greater guiding soul, that so energetic
ally iabored to raise youthful man4
hood to splendor, and maidenhood to
spotless light.
1t has been said that his beliefs of
the Christian doctrine were vague, so
much so in fact that he was pro-,
nonnced an atheist. How preposter-,
Gus the assumption! We can estimate
from his writings that his knowledge of
Biblical matters was vast and cOmpre-
hensive. From the actions of his daily
life we can clearly discern that he was
| the very embodiment of the funda-
mental principles of the true Christian.
How unselfish did he bestOW his
treasure, not for the selfish ambition of
advertisement or vain glory which, I
am sorry to say, is the stimulus that
prompts some of our present-day
mllllonalres to donate small portion
OF their vast wealth to an institution,
university, or library, and then receive
proclamations from the columns of
newspapers, as benefactors of the
world.
What an example he has given of
true benevOlence. Not given to be
sounded by these foghOrns of the
worlds press as benefactor; but Civ
ing unknown to the world( for the
uplifting of those around him, so that
these less unfortunate men and women.
might be able to stand on their own
feet and govern their own lives with
out further aid. And he has shown us
that when charity is carried beyond
this limit, it simply debases the recip-
tents although surrounding them with
physical comforts.
In the humble walks of life he saw
that the naked and hungry around him
even TO those in prison, he did not hes
itate to administer to their wants and
give balm to their sorrows. This then
is what places him in the foremost
rank of the worlds benefactors. This
then is the message that John Ruskin
delivered to the nineteenth century;
and will it not continue to be a mes
sage, yea a beacon light to the present
and coming generations?
What monument of bronze or marble
can equal his genius? What edifice
can equal his thought? The dome of
St. PauIs Cathedral does not reach the
ankle of Ruskin. Full of years and
honors he recently passed away. His
grateful country would have him in
TERED in Westminster Abbey, that
pantheon of Britain's illustrious dead.
But as in life he desired no titled
name, or fame, so in death did he de-
sire that his body would rest, not
where the mob surges cursed with the
idle curiosity to see the graves of kings.
and nobodys, but in fair Commission, the
seat of his renowned life's SORROWS and
joys he is laid at rest.
"Quenched is the lamp, ern in its Pickering dear,
We miss the light, we would not have him here;
No carping littleness lift their head r.
Where he is, mid the great unjealous dead.
He thirsted-as thirsty land for rain
For Beauty and good, as men for gain;
Now may he drink of the immortal tide,
Ever athirst and ever satisfied
M. M.