I should like you to see what a wonder of light and colour and space and breathable air, he put into his Venus rising from the sea--refused on the ground of nudity at the Paris Exhibition this summer.

The loss will be great to him, I fear.
You will recognise in this name _Page_, the painter of Robert's portrait which you praised for its Venetian colour, and criticised in other respects.

In fact, Mr.Page believes that he has discovered Titian's secret--and, what is more, he will tell it to you in love, and indeed to anybody else in charity.

So I don't say that to bribe you.
Dear, dear Mr.Ruskin, we thank you and love you more than ever for your good word about our Italy.

Oh, if you knew how hard it is and has been to receive the low, selfish, ignoble words with which this great cause has been pelted from England, not from her Derby government only, but from her parliament, her statesmen, her reformers, her leaders of the Liberal party, her free press--to receive such words full in our faces, nay, in the quick of our hearts, till we grow sick with loathing and hot with indignation--if you knew what it was and is, you would feel how glad and grateful we must be to have a right word from John Ruskin.