As an antiquary—which, thank Heaven, I am—I say, “Part of Warwick Castle is burnt—’tis pity. Take better care of the rest.”
As an old Tory—which, thank Heaven, I am—I say, “Lord Warwick’s house is burned. Let Lord Warwick build a better if he can—a worse if he must; but in any case, let him neither beg nor borrow.”
As a modern renovator and Liberal—which, thank Heaven, I am not—I would say, “By all means let the public subscribe to build a spick-and-span new Warwick Castle, and let the pictures be touched up, and exhibited by gaslight; let the family live in the back rooms, and let there be a table d’hôte in the great hall at two and six every day, 2s. 6d. a head, and let us have Guy’s bowl for a dinner bell.”
I am, Sir, your faithful servant,
John Ruskin.
Denmark Hill, S.E., 24th (for 25th) December.
[From “The Daily Telegraph,” January 19, 1871.]
“NOTRE DAME DE PARIS.”
To the Editor of “The Daily Telegraph.”
Sir: It may perhaps be interesting to some of your readers, in the present posture of affairs round Paris, to know, as far as I am able to tell them, the rank which the Church of Notre Dame holds among architectural and historical monuments.
Nearly every great church in France has some merit special to itself; in other countries, one style is common to many districts; in France, nearly every province has its unique and precious monument.
But of thirteenth-century Gothic—the most perfect architectural style north of the Alps—there is, both in historical interest, and in accomplished perfectness of art, one unique monument—the Sainte Chapelle of Paris.