Volume Xiv Part 2 (2/2)

Vincent de Paul....

”Here is a man who, laboring for fifty years, has scattered broadcast a thousand fine ideas to all who practise the arts, and all who care for art. He has roused in the cultured world an interest in things of art such as a legion of painters and ten royal academies could never have done. He has poured out a torrent of words, some right, some wrong, but such as have raised the level of art into a new world, which have adorned English literature for centuries, and have inspired the English race for generations; he has cast his bread upon the waste and muddy waters with a lavish hand, and has not waited to find it again, though it has been the seed of abundant harvest to others.”

Again, speaking of what Ruskin sought to accomplish in the regeneration of modern society, and the reformation of our social ideals, and of that ”heroic piece of Quixotism” he founded, ”the Guild of St. George,” Mr.

Harrison remarks:--

”The first life of John Ruskin was the life of a consummate teacher of art and master of style; the second life was the life of priest and evangelist.... Here is the greatest living master [the pa.s.sage was written while Mr. Ruskin was yet alive] of the English tongue, one of the most splendid lights of our n.o.ble literature, one to whom a dozen paths of ambition and power lay open, who had everything that could be offered by genius, fame, wealth, social popularity, and intense sensitiveness to all lovely things--and this man, after thirty years of untiring labor, devotes himself to train, teach, delight, and inspire a band of young men, girls, workmen, children,--all who choose to come around him. He lavishes the whole of his fortune on them; he brings to their door his treasures of art, science, literature, and poetry; he founds and endows museums; he offers these costly and precious collections to the people; he wears out his life in teaching them the elements of art, the elements of manufacture, the elements of science; he shows workmen how to work, girls how to draw, to sing, to play; he gives up to them his wealth, his genius, his peace, his whole life. He is not content with writing books in his study, with enjoying art at home or abroad; he must carry his message into the streets. He gives himself up--not to write beautiful thoughts: he seeks to build up a beautiful world.... When I see this author of 'Modern Painters' and the 'Stones of Venice,' the man who has exhausted almost all that Europe contains of the beautiful, who has thought and spoken of almost every phase of human life, and has entered so deeply into the highest mysteries of the greatest poets--when I see him surrounding himself in his old age with lads and la.s.ses, schoolgirls and workmen, teaching them the elements of science and art, reading to them poems and tales, arranging for them games and holidays, ornaments and dresses, lavis.h.i.+ng on these young people his genius and his wealth, his fame and his future--I confess my memory goes back instinctively to a fresco I saw in Italy years ago--was it Luini's?--wherein the Master sat in a crowd of children and forbade them to be removed, saying that 'of such is the kingdom of heaven.'”

With this generous tribute to and appreciation of Ruskin, despite the economic vagaries into which the great critic and teacher of his time fell, we may more confidently approach the busy era of his later and self-sacrificing labors, and with less apology take s.p.a.ce to deal--as compactly and intelligently as we can--with some of the more notable of the many books and _brochures_ of the period. Difficult as would be the task, fortunately there is little need to epitomize these works, as many of them are better known, and perhaps more attentively read, than his earlier, bulkier, and more ambitious writings. A few of them lie outside the economic gospel of their apostolic author, and these we will first and briefly deal with. A number of them are instructive and inspiring lay sermons on the mystical union between nature and art, beauty and utility, and their reflex in the reverential homage for the beautiful and the worthy in the mind and character of the English-speaking race.

The whole form a great body of fine and thoughtful work, which is as enchaining as its meaning is often profound. The best-known of these lay sermons is: ”The Queen of the Air” (1869), a splendid blending of his fancy with the Greek nature-myths of cloud and storm, represented by Athena, G.o.ddess of the heavens, of the earth, and of the heart. The parable drawn is that ”the air is given us for our life, the rain for our thirst and baptism, the fire for our warmth, the sun for our light, and the earth for our meat and rest.” Related to the work is ”Ethics of the Dust” (1865), lectures to little housewives on mineralogy and crystallography, nature's work in crystallization being the text for a diatribe against sordid living. ”Sesame and Lilies,” which belongs also to this period of the writer's work, consists of three addresses, delivered at Manchester and at Dublin, designed specially for young girls, and treating in the main of good and improving literature. The first of them, ”Of Kings' Treasuries,” deals with the treasures hidden in books, the writings of the world's great men; its sequel, ”Of Queens'

Gardens,” deals with the function and sphere of woman, and, by way of application, with the how and the what to read; the third lecture, on ”The Mystery of Life and its Arts,” is a discursive but inspiring consideration of what life is and how most successfully to battle with it in the way of our work and of our appointed duty. All three lectures, observes a commentator, ”tell men and women of the ideals they should set before them; how to read and to build character under the inspiration of the n.o.bility of the past, fitting one's self for such great society; how to develop n.o.ble womanhood; how to bear one's self toward the wonder of life, toward one's work in the world, and toward one's duty to others.”

Other lectures and _brochures_ of or about this period are ”Hortus Inclusus” (The Enclosed Garden), being ”Messages from the Wood to the Garden sent in happy days to two sister ladies,” residing at Coniston, and collected in 1887; ”Arrows of the Chace,” letters on various subjects to newspapers, gathered and edited in 1880; ”The Two Paths,”

lectures on art and its application to Decoration and Manufacture (1859); ”Ariadne Florentina” (1873), a monograph on Italian wood and metal engraving; ”Aratra Pentelici” (1872), on the elements and principles of sculpture; and ”The Eagle's Nest” (1872), on the relation of natural science to art. Still pursuing his delightful methods of interpreting nature and teaching the world instructive lessons, even from the common things of mother earth, we have a series of three eloquent discourses, ent.i.tled (1) ”Proserpina,” studies of Alpine and other wayside flowers, dwelling on the mystery of growth in plants and the tender beauty of their form; (2) ”Deucalion,” a sort of glorified geological text-book, treating of stones and their life-history, and showing the wearing effect upon them of waves and the action of water; and (3) ”Love's Meinie” (1873), a rapture about birds and their feathered plumage, delivered at Eton and at Oxford. This trilogy, dealing with botany, geology, and ornithology, was presented to his audiences with ill.u.s.trative drawings, representing the flora met with in his travels or found in the neighborhood of his new home in the Lancas.h.i.+re lakes, with sketches of regions, including the characteristics of the soil, in which he had been reared, and talks of the note and habit of all birds that were wont to warble over him their morning song. ”The Pleasures of England,” the ”Harbours of England,” and the ”Art of England” further treat of his loved native land, the first of these being talks on the pleasures of learning, of faith, and of deed, ill.u.s.trated by examples drawn from early English history, and the last treating of representative modern English artists, chiefly of the Pre-Raphaelite school. ”The Laws of Fesole” (1878) deals with the principles of Florentine draughtsmans.h.i.+p; ”St. Mark's Rest,” with the art and architecture of Venice; and ”Val d'Arno,” with early Tuscan art, interspersed with the author's accustomed ethical reflections. ”Mornings in Florence,” intended for the use of visitors to the art galleries of the beautiful city on the Arno, deals in the true artist-spirit with its famous examples of Christian art, giving prominence here also to the ethical side of the city's history. ”In Montibus Sanctis,” and ”Coeli Enarrant,” the one comprising studies of mountain form, and the other of cloud form and their visible causes, though separately published, are only reprints of the author's larger and n.o.bler embodiment of his views on art, in ”Modern Painters.” ”The King of the Golden River,” of which we have previously spoken, is a fairy tale of much beauty, which he wrote for the ”Fair Maid of Perth” whom he married, and who separated herself from him on the plea of ”incompatibility.” Playful as is the style of the story, it is not without a moral, on what const.i.tutes true wealth and happiness. ”The Crown of Wild Olive” (1866) consists of lectures on work, traffic, and war; the latter lecture, delivered at the Royal Artillery Inst.i.tution at Woolwich, was also separately published under the t.i.tle of ”The Future of England.” The two former, being addressed to working-men, laborers, and traders, discuss economic problems, and set forth tentatively their author's antagonized political ethics, with which, in drawing this essay to a close, we now venture to deal.

After the magnificent work done by Ruskin in art up to his fortieth year, that he should turn, for practically the remainder of his life, to the seemingly vain and profitless task of a social reformer and regenerator of modern society, has to most men been a riddle too elusive and enigmatic to solve. And yet, in his earlier career, had he not himself prepared us for just such a departure as he took in the sixties, for in art was he not equally revolutionary and iconoclastic, as well as personally self-willed, pa.s.sionate, and impulsive? Moreover, had not Mother Nature endowed him with the gifts of a seer and made him chivalrous as well as intensely sympathetic, while his early training inclined him to be serious, and even ascetic? Nor were the rebuffs he met with throughout his career calculated at this stage to make him court the applause of his fellow-men or be mindful of the world's censure or approval. Nor can one well quarrel with what he had now to say on many a subject, visionary and enthusiast as he always was, and given over to mediaeval views and preachments, and to abounding moral and ethical exhortation. Like Carlyle's, his voice was that of one crying in the wilderness, and yet in the industrial and social condition of Britain at the era there was need of just such appeals for regeneration and reform as Ruskin strenuously uttered, accompanied by indignant rebukes of grossness, vulgarity, and meanness, as manifested in ma.s.ses of the people. If in his strivings after amelioration he was too denunciatory as well as too radical, we must remember the temper and manner of the man, and recognize how difficult it was in him, or in any iconoclast who scorned modern science as Ruskin scorned it, to reconcile the age of steam and industrial machinery, which he spurned and would have none of, with the views he held of Christianity, morals, and faith.

His views on political economy, which he treated neither as an art nor a science, might be perverse and wrong-headed, and his method of adapting prophetic and apostolic principles to the practice of every-day life utterly impracticable; but the virtues he counselled the nation to manifest, and the graces he enjoined of truthfulness, justice, temperance, bravery, and obedience, were qualities needed to be cultivated in his time, with a fuller recognition of and firmer trust in G.o.d and His right of sway in the world He had created.

What Ruskin's economic views were, and what his relations to the industrial and social problems of his time, most readers of our author know, are mainly to be found in ”Fors Clavigera,” a series of letters to working-men, covering the years 1871-84, and in his early essays on political economy, ”Unto this Last” (1860), and ”Munera Pulveris”

(1863). ”Unto this Last” appeared in its original form in the pages of the ”Cornhill Magazine,” then edited by Thackeray, and our author speaks confidently of it as embodying his maturest and worthiest thoughts on social science. The work, which will be found the key to Ruskin's economic gospel, embraces four essays, treating successively of the responsibilities and duties of those called to fill all offices of national trust and service; of the true sources of a nation's riches; of the right distribution of such riches; and of what is meant by the economic terms,--value, wealth, price, and produce. Under these several heads, Ruskin expresses his conviction that co-operation and government are in all things the law of life, while the deadly things are compet.i.tion and anarchy. Whatever errors the book[3] contains--and the author's unconscious arrogance and dogmatism made him blind to them--his views were set forth with his accustomed vigor and eloquence, and in the honest belief that he was more than fundamentally right. It was for such helpful work as this, and what he accomplished in the kindred volume, ”Munera Pulveris,” which first appeared in ”Fraser's Magazine,”

that Ruskin for the time dropped his revelations in art to let a new world of thought into the ”dismal science” of political economy, confound its old-time instructors, and gird at the evils of the age,--the greed, selfishness, and petty bargaining spirit of industrial and commercial life. Nor in conducting such a crusade as this was Ruskin abandoning his old and less controverted gospel of art. He was but carrying into new and barren fields the high ideals he had hitherto counselled his age to emulate and heed, and in his sympathy with labor seeking to bring into its world the comeliness of beauty and the cheer of prosperity, comfort, and happiness. In ”Time and Tide” (1867), and more at length in ”Fors Clavigera,” Ruskin reiterates his message to labor, to get rid of ever-environing misery by realizing what are the true sources of happiness,--pleasure in sincere and honest work, inspired by intelligence, culture, religion, and right living. What he desires for the working-man he desires also for his family, and consequently he urges parents to train their sons and daughters to see and love the beautiful, to cultivate their higher instincts, and call forth and feed their souls. In all this there is much helpful, tonic thought, which the church or the nation, roused to zeal and earnest activity, might fittingly teach, and so advance the material weal of the people, extend the area of public enlightenment and morality, and herald the dawn of a new and higher civilization.

[Footnote 3: Alluding to the quaint t.i.tle under which these ”Cornhill”

essays afterwards appeared,--a t.i.tle that hints at the gist of the work,--Mr. Ruskin's biographer tells us that the motto was taken from Christ's parable of the husbandman and the laborers: ”Friend, I do thee no wrong. Didst thou not agree with me for a penny? Take that thine is, and go thy way. I will give UNTO THIS LAST even as unto thee.”--Matt. xx. 14.]

Other aspects of Mr. Ruskin's economic gospel are, unfortunately, not so sane and beneficent. His altruism knows no bounds, as his philanthropy and zeal have but few restraints. After the fas.h.i.+on of his mentor, Carlyle, he is carried away by his humanitarianism and his unreserved acceptance of the doctrine of the equality and brotherhood of man. Hence come his economic heresies in regard to rent and interest, and capital and usury, his denunciations of the division of labor, his Tolstoian impoverishment of himself for the benefit of his fellow-man, and his dictum that the wealth of the nation should be its own, and not accrue to the individual. Hence, also, the wholly ideal state of society he attempted to realize in his communal Guild of St. George, with its rigid government and restraints upon the personal liberty of its members.

Ideally beautiful, admittedly, was the plan and scheme of the little state, with its disciplinings, exactions, and devout selective creed.

But the age is a practical, unimaginative one, and whatever compacts men make, even for their highest welfare, there are, it is to be feared, few so loyal, tractable, and docile as to place themselves for long under such tutoring and one-patterned, fas.h.i.+oning forms of co-operative living. Into whatever millennial state Ruskin sought to usher his little band of English followers and disciples, one must speak appreciatively of his motives in projecting the scheme, and of the money and labor he personally lavished upon the Utopian project. Reverently also must one speak of the catholic creed to which its members were asked to subscribe: namely, to trust in G.o.d, recognize the n.o.bleness of human nature, labor faithfully with one's might, be loyal to one's common country, its laws, and its monarch's or ruler's orders, so far as they are consistent with the higher law of G.o.d; while exacting obedience, and a pledge that one will not deceive, either for gain or other motive; will not rob; will not hurt any living creature nor destroy any beautiful thing; and will honor one's own body by proper care for it, for the joy and peace of life. All this is very exemplary and beautiful, and not over-hard to live up to, though the working-men of Sheffield in time wearied of the organization, and the Guild and its n.o.ble ideals is now, we believe, but a memory, if we except the art museum and library of the Order taken over and still maintained by the town.

More practical, may we not say, than this imitation of the Florentine _arti_ of the Middle Ages was the Working Men's College, founded in London in the fifties by that other earnest Christian Socialist, F.D.

Maurice, in which Ruskin lectured gratuitously, took charge of the drawing cla.s.ses, and hied off to the country with its members to sketch from nature and otherwise instruct and entertain them. Yet good in many respects came of the Guild of St. George, in the impulse it gave to the revival of the then dormant industries, such as the hand-spinning of linen, hand-weaving of carpets and woollen fabrics, lace-making, wood-carving, and metal-working, besides the stimulus it gave, with the infusion of higher ideals of workmans.h.i.+p, to the decorative arts, and the improvement in the sightliness of factories, and in the homes and surroundings of labor. Here Ruskin's philanthropy and reform zeal showed themselves most worthily in the financial aid he gave in the pulling down, in crowded districts of the British metropolis, of poor tenements, and the building up in their place of clean, attractive, and wholesome habitations. In such benevolences and well-doings, and in this life of renunciation and self-sacrifice, Ruskin spent himself, and made serious inroads into his bodily health and strength, as well as scattered the fortune--about a million dollars--left him by his now deceased father.

But this was the manner and character of Ruskin, and this the mode of expressing his love for his fellow-man, which in myriad ways showed itself throughout a long and strenuous career of devotion to high ideals, and of practical, tender help in all good works. In all his philanthropies he was true to his own preachings and counsellings, spending and being spent in the spirit of his Divine Master, his whole soul aglow with reverence and adoration and tender with a profound moral emotion. Besides his rare endowments as a lover of the beautiful, he had that other precious gift, of golden speech, which threw a mantle of loveliness over every book he wrote and perpetual l.u.s.tre over the domain of letters.

Ruskin's declining years, while hallowed by suffering, were cheered by many tender attentions and unexpected kindnesses, and by the recognition, by many notable public bodies and eminent contemporaries, of his long life of great service and devotion to his kind. In our modern age, from which, in his loved Coniston home, he pa.s.sed from life Jan. 20, 1900, no one more reverently than he has looked deeper into the mystery of life, thought more concernedly of its problems, shed more pa.s.sionately and eloquently about him love for the beautiful, or practically and helpfully done more--layman only though he was--for religion and humanity. At his death the nation paid honor to his memory by offering his remains a resting-place in the great fane of England's ill.u.s.trious dead, Westminster Abbey; but Ruskin had himself otherwise ordered the disposal of his body. ”Bury me,” he said, ”at Coniston.”

And there, on the fifth day after his falling softly asleep, amid a concourse of loving friends, the earthly tenement of the great art critic and lover of righteousness was laid to rest, his grave strewn with myriad wreaths, garlands, and crosses of beautiful, bright flowers.

Here, after his long, strenuous, militant career, do we leave this inspiring teacher and ”consecrated priest of the Ideal,” his gentle soul finding rest and peace after the myriad troubles and tumults of life.

Still now is the once active, fertile, stimulating mind of the man who so effectively roused his generation from its complacent smugness and indifference in its appreciation of the beautiful, and with ardent boldness challenged established beliefs in art and defied the conventionality and authority of his time. His has been a powerful force in innumerable departments of human thought, and epoch-making the influence he has exerted in giving to the world new ideals of the beautiful and in shaping modern opinion and taste in art. How great is the work he has done, and what a library of stimulating, inspiring books he has left us, comparatively few realize, as they little realize what the age owes to him for his n.o.ble activities in well-doing and his many and impressive lessons and influence. In a commonplace, commercial time, how stimulating as well as ardent have been his appeals for sensitiveness of perception in regard to art, and of the tone and spirit in which it ought to be viewed and valued! And with what tender, reverent feeling has he not opened our hearts to compa.s.sion and to consideration for the welfare of our fellow-man, and how potent have been his counsellings pointing to the true and abiding sources of pleasure in life! Long must his formative opinions and influence extend, and in the minds of all who think and reflect abiding must be the charm as well as the power of his imaginative, glowing thought. That he met with opposition and hostility in his day was but the price to be paid for the disturbing, correcting, disciplining, yet inspiring part he played in the work he so impulsively set himself to do. One smiles now at the epithets of scorn and contumely once hurled at him, at the man who, little understood as he has been, has done so much to uplift and purify the thought of his time and do battle with the forces opposed to reform and arrayed against those of light and truth. And how great were the weapons with which he was armed, and how varied as well as marvellous the talents he brought into play in the onslaught upon shallowness, convention, and ignorance! Truly, he has done much for his time, and great has been the gain Modern Art has won from his inspiring lessons and thought. The coming of such a man, and at the time that was his, one cannot help reflecting, was one of the providences of an overruling Power, and adequately to estimate his influence and work, and the tone and temper in which he wrought, we have but to consider what the age would have been, in countless departments of thought and activity, had the century now pa.s.sed possessed no John Ruskin.

AUTHORITIES.

Collingwood, W. G. Life of Ruskin.

Harrison, Frederic. Tennyson, Ruskin, Mill, and other Estimates.

Mather, Marshall. John Ruskin, his Life and Teaching.

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