[1. After apologising for the hasty preparation of his Address, Professor Ruskin went on to speak rather to those who had not succeeded in gaining prizes than to those who had succeeded; urging that to be undistinguished was the lot, though not necessarily the misfortune, of many. At that moment, every one had set his heart on Education, and it seemed to be taken that any education was better than none. But no education was not always the worst of things, for one of the best companions he had ever met was a Savoyard peasant who could neither read nor write, but who was an entertaining talker and a practical philosopher. A good education was usually supposed to comprehend reading, writing, arithmetic, geography, geology, astronomy, Latin, Greek, and other languages:—and after this, all that was to be done was to grow rich and happy. He knew something of most of these things, but they did not constitute his happiness; for the geologists disputed his theories, and he was miserable about the smallness of his collection of specimens. When he was a boy, and for the first time received the present of a colour-box, he was delighted with all that he did with it. “You don't suppose,’ he continued, “getting a colour-box is any pleasure to me now. I'm ashamed to spoil the look of the paints, for fear I shouldn't make a good picture out of them.”]