ey 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."

CHAPTER III

THE LIMESTONE ALPS (1863)

Our hermit among the Alps of Savoy differed in one respect from his
predecessors. They, for the most part, saw nothing in the rocks and