Chapter II: "munera Pulveris" (1862)

After an autumn among the Alps, hearing that the Turner drawings in the National Gallery had been mildewed, he ran home to see about them in January 1862; and was kept until the end of May. He found that his political economy work was not such a total failure as it had seemed. Froude, then editor of _Fraser's Magazine_, thought there was something in it, and would give him another chance. So, by way of a fresh start, he had his four _Cornhill_ articles published in book form; and almost simultaneously, in June 1862 the first of the new series appeared.

The author had then returned to Lucerne with Mr. and Mrs. Burne-Jones, with whom he crossed the St. Gothard to Milan, where he tried to forget the harrowing of hell in a close study of Luini, and in copying the "St. Catherine" now at Oxford. Ruskin has never said so much about Luini as, perhaps, he intended. A short notice in the "Cestus of Aglaia," and occasional references scattered up and down his later works, hardly give the prominence in his writings that the painter held in his thoughts. It was about this time that he was made an Hon. Member of the Florentine Academy.

He re-crossed the Alps, and settled to his work on political economy at Mornex, where he spent the winter except for a short run home, which gave him the opportunity of addressing the Working Men's College on November 29.

His retreat is described in one of his letters home:

"MORNEX, _August_ 31 (1862).

"MY DEAREST MOTHER,

"This ought to arrive on the evening before your birthday: it is
not possible to reach you in the morning, not even by telegraph as
I once did from Mont Cenis, for--(may Heaven be devoutly thanked
therefore)--there are yet on Mont Salève neither rails nor
wires....

"The place I have got to is at the end of all carriage-roads, and I
am not yet strong enough to get farther, on foot, than a five or
six miles' circle, within which is assuredly no house to my mind. I
cast, at first, somewhat longing eyes on a true Savoyard
château--notable for its lovely garden and orchard--and its
unspoiled, unrestored, arched gateway between two round turrets,
and Gothic-windowed keep. But on examination of the
interior--finding the walls, though six feet thick, rent to the
foundation--and as cold as rocks, and the floors all sodden through
with walnut oil and rotten-apple juice--heaps of the farm stores
having been left to decay in the ci-devant drawing room, I gave up
all medieval ideas, for which the long-legged black pigs who lived
like gentlemen at ease in the passage, and the bats and spiders who
divided between them the corners of the turret-stair, have
reason--if they knew it--to be thankful.

"The worst of it is that I never had the gift, nor have I now the
energy, to _make_ anything of a place; so that I shall have to put
up with almost anything I can find that is healthily habitable in a
good situation. Meantime, the air here being delicious and the
rooms good enough for use and comfort, I am not troubling myself
much, but trying to put myself into better health and humour; in
which I have already a little succeeded."

After describing the flowers of the Salève he continues:

"My Father would be quite wild at the 'view' from the garden
terrace--but he would be disgusted at the shut in feeling of the
house, which is in fact as much shut in as our old Herne Hill one;
only to get the 'view' I have but to go as far down the garden as
to our old 'mulberry tree.' By the way there's a magnificent
mulberry tree, as big as a common walnut, covered with black and
red fruit on the other side of the road. Coutet and Allen are very
anxious to do all they can now that Crawley is away; and I don't
think I shall manage very badly," etc.

A little later he took in addition a cottage in which the Empress of Russia had once stayed: it commanded a finer view than the larger house, which has since been turned into a hotel (Hôtel et Pension des Glycines). This place was for some time the hermitage in which he wrote his political economy. Of his lonely rambles he wrote later on:

"If I have a definite point to reach, and common work to do at
it--I take people--anybody--with me; but all my best _mental_ work
is necessarily done alone; whenever I wanted to think, in Savoy, I
used to leave Coutet at home. Constantly I have been alone on the
Glacier des Bois--and far among the loneliest aiguille recesses. I
found the path up the Brezon above Bonneville in a lonely walk one
Sunday; I saw the grandest view of the Alps of Savoy I ever
gained, on the 2nd of January, 1862, alone among the snow wreaths
on the summit of the Salève. You need not fear for me on 'Langdale
Pikes' after that."

In September the second article appeared in _Fraser._ "Only a genius like Mr. Ruskin could have produced such hopeless rubbish," says a newspaper of the period. Far worse than any newspaper criticism was the condemnation of Denmark Hill. His father, whose eyes had glistened over early poems and prose eloquence, strongly disapproved of this heretical economy. It was a bitter thing that his son should become prodigal of a hardly earned reputation, and be pointed at for a fool. And it was intensely painful for a son "who had never given his father a pang that could be avoided," as old Mr. Ruskin had once written, to find his father, with one foot in the grave, turning against him. In December the third paper appeared. History repeated itself, and with the fourth paper the heretic was gagged. A year after, his father died; and these _Fraser_ articles were laid aside until the end of 1871, when they were taken up again, and published on New Year's Day 1872, as "Munera Pulveris."

From the outset, however, he was not without supporters. Carlyle wrote on June 30, 1862:

"I have read, a month ago, your _First_ in _Fraser_, and ever since
have had a wish to say to it and you, _Euge macte nova virtute._ I
approved in every particular; calm, definite, clear; rising into
the sphere of _Plato_ (our almost best), wh'h in exchange for the
sphere of _Macculloch, Mill and Co._ is a mighty improvement! Since
that, I have seen the little _green_ book, too; reprint of your
_Cornhill_ operations,--about 2/3 of wh'h was read to me (_known_
only from what the contradict'n of sinners had told me of it);--in
every part of wh'h I find a high and noble sort of truth, not one
doctrine that I can intrinsically dissent from, or count other than
salutary in the extreme, and pressingly needed in Engl'd above
all."

Erskine of Linlathen wrote to Carlyle, August 7th, 1862:

"I am thankful for any unveiling of the so-called science of
political economy, according to which, avowed selfishness is the
Rule of the World. It is indeed most important preaching--to preach
that there is not one God for religion and another God for human
fellowship--and another God for buying and selling--that pestilent
polytheism has been largely and confidently preached in our time,
and blessed are those who can detect its mendacities, and help to
disenchant the brethren of their power...."

J.A. Froude, then editor of _Fraser_, and to his dying day Mr. Ruskin's intimate and affectionate friend, wrote to him on October 24 (1862?):

"The world talks of the article in its usual way. I was at
Carlyle's last night.... He said that in writing to your father as
to subject he had told him that when Solomon's temple was building
it was credibly reported that at least 10,000 sparrows sitting on
the trees round declared that it was entirely wrong--quite contrary
to received opinion--hopelessly condemned by public opinion, etc.
Nevertheless it got finished and the sparrows flew away and began
to chirp in the same note about something else."