orious incitement to
pleasure,--no longer the spontaneous blossom and fruit of it,--the
decay sets in for art as for morality. Art, in short, is created _by_
pleasure, not _for_ pleasure. The standard of thought, the attitude of
mind, of the Waldensians, he now perceived to be quite impossible for
himself. He could not look upon every one outside their fold as heathens
and publicans; he could not believe that the pictures of Paul Veronese
were works of iniquity, nor that the motives of great deeds in earlier
ages were lying superstitions. He took courage to own to himself and
others that it was no longer any use trying to identify his point of
view with that of Protestantism. He saw both Protestants and Roman
Catholics, in the perspective of history, converging into a primitive,
far distant, ideal unity of Christianity, in which he still believed;
but he could take neither side, after this.

The first statement of the new point of view was, as we said, the
Inaugural Lecture of the Cambridge School of Art. The next important
utterance was at Manchester, February 22nd, 1859, where he spoke on the
"Unity of Art," by which he meant--not the fraternity of handicrafts
with painting, as the term is used nowadays--but that, in whatever
branch of Art, the spirit of Truth or Sincerity is the same. In this
lecture there is a very important passage showing how he had at last got
upon firm ground in the question of art and morality: "_I do_ NOT _say
in the least that in order to be a good painter you must be a good man_;
but I do say that in order to be a good natural painter there must be
strong elements of good in the mind, however warped by other parts of
the character." So emphatic a statement deserves more attention than it
has received from readers and writers who assume to judge Ruskin's views
after a slight acquaintance with his earlier works. He was well aware
himself that his mind had been gradually enlarging, and his thoughts
changing; and he soon saw as great a difference between himself at forty
and at twenty-five, as he had formerly seen between the Boy poet and the
Art critic. He became as anxious to forget his earlier books, as he had
been to forget his verse-writing; and when he came to collect his
"Works," these lectures, under the title of "The Two Paths," were (with
"The Political Economy of Art") the earliest admitted into the library.

After this Manchester lecture he took a driving tour in
Yorkshire--posting