Hortus Inclusus, by John Ruskin 
 
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Title: Hortus Inclusus Messages from the Wood to the Garden, Sent in 
Happy Days to the Sister Ladies of the Thwaite, Coniston 
Author: John Ruskin 
Release Date: August 3, 2007 [EBook #22230] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 
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INCLUSUS *** 
 
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THE COMPLETE WORKS 
OF 
JOHN RUSKIN
VOLUME XXIV 
* * * * * 
OUR FATHERS HAVE TOLD US 
STORM-CLOUD OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 
HORTUS INCLUSUS 
* * * * * 
 
HORTUS INCLUSUS 
MESSAGES FROM THE WOOD TO THE GARDEN, 
SENT IN HAPPY DAYS TO THE SISTER LADIES OF THE 
THWAITE, CONISTON. 
 
DEDICATED 
WITH GRATEFUL THANKS TO MY DEAR FRIENDS 
PROFESSOR RUSKIN 
AND 
ALBERT FLEMING. 
S. B. 
* * * * * 
 
PREFACE.
The ladies to whom these letters were written have been, throughout 
their brightly tranquil lives, at once sources and loadstones of all good 
to the village in which they had their home, and to all loving people 
who cared for the village and its vale and secluded lake, and whatever 
remained in them or around of the former peace, beauty, and pride of 
English Shepherd Land. 
Sources they have been of good, like one of its mountain springs, ever 
to be found at need. They did not travel; they did not go up to London 
in its season; they did not receive idle visitors to jar or waste their 
leisure in the waning year. The poor and the sick could find them 
always; or rather, they watched for and prevented all poverty and pain 
that care or tenderness could relieve or heal. Loadstones they were, as 
steadily bringing the light of gentle and wise souls about them as the 
crest of their guardian mountain gives pause to the morning clouds: in 
themselves, they were types of perfect womanhood in its constant 
happiness, queens alike of their own hearts and of a Paradise in which 
they knew the names and sympathized with the spirits of every living 
creature that God had made to play therein, or to blossom in its 
sunshine or shade. 
They had lost their dearly-loved younger sister, Margaret, before I 
knew them. Mary and Susie, alike in benevolence, serenity, and 
practical judgment, were yet widely different, nay, almost contrary, in 
tone and impulse of intellect. Both of them capable of understanding 
whatever women should know, the elder was yet chiefly interested in 
the course of immediate English business, policy, and progressive 
science, while Susie lived an aerial and enchanted life, possessing all 
the highest joys of imagination, while she yielded to none of its deceits, 
sicknesses, or errors. She saw, and felt, and believed all good, as it had 
ever been, and was to be, in the reality and eternity of its goodness, 
with the acceptance and the hope of a child; the least things were 
treasures to her, and her moments fuller of joy than some people's days. 
What she had been to me, in the days and years when other friendship 
has been failing, and others' "loving, mere folly," the reader will 
enough see from these letters, written certainly for her only, but from
which she has permitted my Master of the Rural Industries at 
Loughrigg, Albert Fleming, to choose what he thinks, among the 
tendrils of clinging thought, and mossy cups for dew in the Garden of 
Herbs where Love is, may be trusted to the memorial sympathy of the 
readers of "Frondes Agrestes." 
J. R. 
BRANTWOOD, June, 1887. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
Often during those visits to the Thwaite which have grown to be the 
best-spent hours of my later years, I have urged my dear friend Miss 
Beever to open to the larger world the pleasant paths of this her Garden 
Inclosed. The inner circle of her friends knew that she had a goodly 
store of Mr. Ruskin's letters, extending over many years. She for her 
part had long desired to share with others the pleasure these letters had 
given her, but she shrank from the fatigue of selecting and arranging 
them. It was, therefore, with no small feeling of satisfaction that I drove 
home from the Thwaite one day in February last with a parcel 
containing nearly two thousand of these treasured letters. I was 
gladdened also by generous permission, both from Brantwood and the 
Thwaite, to choose what I liked best for publication. The letters 
themselves    
    
		
	
	
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