The opening essay, 'My First Editor,' offers an autobiographical reminiscence in which Ruskin, approaching sixty, recalls his thirty-year collaboration with W. H. Harrison, who meticulously corrected his grammar and punctuation. Ruskin describes Harrison's 'inexorable' standards and his own eventual turn to 'radical sentiments' that Harrison refused to pass. This personal frame sets the tone for a collection that mixes art criticism, historical analysis, and architectural commentary.

The volume's contents range from reviews of Lindsay's 'Christian Art' and Eastlake's 'History of Oil Painting' to essays on Pre-Raphaelitism and architecture, including a piece on the Crystal Palace. Ruskin's voice is both authoritative and self-deprecating, as he admits to having been 'obliged to print all my philanthropy and political economy on the sly.'

Ruskin's Editorial Partnership

In 'My First Editor,' Ruskin details his long collaboration with W. H. Harrison, who read every word of his books for thirty years. Ruskin recalls that many sentences in 'Modern Painters' had to be 'turned outside-in' and 'cut into the smallest pieces' because Harrison found grammatical faults. The essay reveals Ruskin's respect for Harrison's exacting standards, even as he chafed against them when his views became more radical. Harrison's refusal to pass paragraphs 'savouring of heresy or revolution' forced Ruskin to print his later political economy 'on the sly.' This relationship shaped Ruskin's prose style and provides a concrete example of the editorial pressures behind his published work.

Turner's Sympathy and Technique

In the section on Pre-Raphaelitism and Turner, Ruskin argues that Turner's greatness stems from 'an utter forgetfulness of self' and a sympathy 'absolutely infinite,' comparable only to Shakespeare's. He illustrates this with specific examples: Turner's attention to a soldier's wife resting by the roadside and to Rizpah watching the dead bodies of her sons. Ruskin claims this sympathy gives Turner 'a subtle power of expression' even for material things, allowing him to capture 'the thorough stiffness of what is stiff, and grace of what is graceful.' He describes Turner's mind as 'singularly serene and peaceful' yet capable of entering into 'tumult or distress.' The essay includes a detailed description of a lost drawing of Brignal Church, where a boy's kite entangled in branches and the lowly churchyard stones evoke a quiet melancholy.

Architecture and Public Monuments

The architecture section includes an essay on the opening of the Crystal Palace (1854) and a piece on the study of architecture in schools (1865). Ruskin's approach is critical and prescriptive, reflecting his broader views on art and society. The Crystal Palace essay likely addresses the building's design and cultural significance, while the school essay argues for architectural education. These pieces demonstrate Ruskin's engagement with contemporary public works and his belief that architecture should embody moral and aesthetic principles. The excerpts do not reveal the full arguments, but the titles indicate a focus on the relationship between architecture, education, and national character.

Readers should approach this volume as a curated selection of Ruskin's shorter works, each essay reflecting his evolving views on art, literature, and society. The autobiographical opening provides a key to understanding his authorial voice and the editorial context of his career. The essays on Turner and Pre-Raphaelitism offer detailed technical and emotional analysis, while the architecture pieces show his engagement with public monuments. The collection rewards attention to Ruskin's specific observations and his characteristic blend of personal anecdote and critical argument.