state of instruction in Irreligion and Liberty, which is, indeed, a form of education to be had for nothing, alike by the children of the Rich and Poor; the saplings of the tree that was to be desired to make us wise, growing now in copsewood on the hills, or even by the roadsides, in a Republican-Plantagenet manner, blossoming into cheapest gold, either for coins, which of course you Republicans will call, not Nobles, but Ignobles; or crowns, second and third hand--(head, I should say)--supplied punctually on demand, with liberal reduction on quantity; the roads themselves beautifully public--tramwayed, perhaps--and with gates set open enough for all men to the free, outer, better world, your chosen guide preceding you merrily, thus-- [Illustration] with music and dancing. You have always danced too willingly, poor friends, to that player on the viol. We will try to hear, far away, a faint note or two from a more chief musician on stringed instruments, in May, when the time of the Singing of Birds is come. Faithfully yours, JOHN RUSKIN. FORS CLAVIGERA. LETTER V. "For lo, the winter is past, The rain is over and gone, The flowers appear on the earth, The time of the singing of birds is come, Arise, O my fair one, my dove, And come." [9] Denmark Hill, 1st May, 1871. My Friends, It has been asked of me, very justly, why I have hitherto written to you of things you were little likely to care for, in words which it was difficult for you to understand. I have no fear but that you will one day understand all my poor words,--the saddest of them perhaps too well. But I have great fear that you may never come to understand these written above, which are part of a king's love-song, in one sweet May, of many long since gone. I fear that for you the wild winter's rain may never pass,--the flowers never appear on the earth;--that for you no bird may ever sing;--for you no perfect Love arise, and fulfil your life in peace. "And why not for us, as for others?" will you answer me so, and take my fear for you as an insult? Nay, it is no insult;--nor am I happier than you. For me, the birds do not sing, nor ever will. But they would, for you, if you cared to have it so. When I told you that you would never understand that love-song, I meant only that you would not desire to understand it.