The age-herald. [volume] (Birmingham, Ala.) 1897-1902, 1900-01-22
THE PASSING
OF A MASTER
by LUCIEN .rULIpN wAIKrR.

tutored-yea! even to the unteachable-iS
the passing of John Ruskin of great inter-
est. Rusl1in was the first art critic of this
age, or of any age. He was the first critic
of the world in respect to painting to
architecture, and perhaps to sculpture.
For more than fifty years this physically
trad1 Englishman had been the acknowl-
edged master of the worlds criticism of art.
1t may be said that he discovered Turner.
This master of all the English painters had
slept for generations-unackn but
the magic of RusiSin made the canvases
of the painter to be worth a thousand times
their weight in gold.
Ruskin's discovery" of Turner is possibly
the most beautiful fact in all the range of
art. Ruskin saw the real value of Turner.
The pictures that had been painted in a
garnet overlooking the Thames, and during
the dreafy work-days of the long-gone
years, suddenly became priceless by the
touch of John Ruskin's genius That splen-
did touch of the painters brush which the
world had failed to acknowledge was made
immortal by the glorious pen of John Rus
kin.
There is so much of the pathos and sub
lime in the life of Rushn that the mere
reviewer-the simple chronicler of small
beer and the hour, is not competent with it
to deal worthily.
There are millions of wives, mothers,
maidens, the wide world around who are
the better, the purer, the nobler, the truer
to themselves and therefore the truer to
them they love and to God because of John
Ruskin. He has furnished forth to two
generations of women the sesame and the
lilies of the golden glory!
Millions on millions of flowers blossom
now which John Ruslzfn's gentle and mas
terful genius called into beng-bright flow
ers named of the beneficent Father of us
all of US to cheer and gladden. human ex-
istencel
In each of million windows in Old Eng
land there blooms "a f1ower-pot that the ex-
panding, all-embracing love of John Ruskin
placed there, and every hower-pot is a belu-
tiful monument to that masterful lover of
all that was beautiful, true. holyi
Oh, splendid monuments of the fowersi
Did you ever think of it, beloved worker.
in the course of human joy? Did you ever
think about sending a little plant in a.
poor little pot to adorn poor little window
through which the eyes of the poor looked
and were gladdened? Did it ever seem
to you that flower in the window, a
flower kissed by the bees and the breeze
and the breath of God, might lead some
soul to the way of them that seek right
eousness? Did it never seem to you that
they who sore-stricken of sin might
find some comfort by the odor from the
poor little flower in the poor pot in the poor
little window? Has it never come to you
that the flower in the window is light to
some weary soul within or to some strug-
Cling soul in the great world outside seek
ing some way home, some way to truth?
Don't you know God gave us the flowers
to teach a purer and sweeter love of Him
His majesty, His affection, His immeas-
urable tenderness!
Did you ever travel through the villages
and the towns and the cities of the great
Black Country of northern and western
England, and mark in the little windows of
the laborers little cottages the little
flower pot with it's little plant? John Rus
kin placed the flowers in the pots. You
saw the white little dimity curtains just
shading half the window behind the flow
er pot? John Ruskn put the dimity cur
tains there. Did you see the ceanly dressed
and happy-faced miners and factory hands
and other men that labored. and did the
best they could as you and 1 do today?
John Ruskin put it in their hearts to be
so and to do so.
Have you marked the maiden, the sweet
heart the mother, clear-eyed, beautiful
upon the pavement or on the dusty road?
John Ruskin had thing to do with it
all.
If every woman pure of heart and I'M
spotted from the world did but drop a
deserved tear upon the grave of John Rus
kin an ocean would cover him If every
toiler upon the earth, rightfully indebted to
that glorious spirit, did nut cast violet
there a continent of flowers would arise!
Only once in my life I John Ruskin.
Some good soul called me long ago to Ok
ford, where Ruskin was a lecturer. In
deed, Ruskin was a professor there and
the professorsrip was to him the proudest
of all his honors. ST sent for you to see and
hear Ruslzn my friend said, knowing of
nv great admiration of and resDect for
that great man.
1t does not matter at the moment what
RuslSin said; but he departed at once from
the subject he was expected to discuss. His
voice was soft and low, and its persua-
siveness wonderful 1t was absolutely