on, and a letter to Richard Fall records the night on the
Rigi, when he saw the splendid sequence of storm, sunset, moonlight, and
daybreak, which forms the subject of one of the most impressive passages
of "Modern Painters."
It happened that Pringle had a plate of Salzburg which he wanted to
print in order to make up the volume of "Friendship's Offering" for the
next Christmas. He seems to have asked John Ruskin to furnish a copy of
verses for the picture, and at Salzburg, accordingly, a bit of rhymed
description was written and re-written, and sent home to the editor.
Early in December the Ruskins returned, and at Christmas there came to
Herne Hill a gorgeous gilt morocco volume, "To John Ruskin, from the
Publishers." On opening it there were his "Andernach" and "St. Goar,"
and his "Salzburg" opposite a beautifully-engraved plate, all hills,
towers, boats, and figures moving picturesquely under the sunset, in
Turner's manner more or less, "Engraved by E. Goodall from a drawing by
W. Purser." It was almost like being Mr. Rogers himself.
CHAPTER V
THE GERM OF "MODERN PAINTERS" (1836)
He was now close upon seventeen, and it was time to think seriously of
his future. His father went to Oxford early in the year to consult the
authorities about matriculation. Meantime they sent him to Mr. Dale for
some private lessons, and for the lectures on logic, English literature,
and translation, which were given on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays at
King's College, London. John enjoyed his new circumstances heartily.
From voluminous letters, it is evident that he was in high spirits and
in pleasant company. He was a thorough boy among boys--Matson,
Willoughby, Tom Dale and the rest. He joined in their pranks, and
contributed to their amusement with his ready good-humour and unflagging
drollery.
Mr. Dale told him there was plenty of time before October, and no fear
about his passing, if he worked hard. He found the work easy, except
epigram-writing, which he thought "excessively stupid and laborious,"
but helped himself out, when scholarship failed, with native wit. Some
of his exercises remain, not very brilliant Latinity; some he saucily
evaded, thus:
"Subject: _Non sapere maximum est malum._
"Non sapere est grave; sed, cum dura epigrammata oportet
Scribere, tunc sentis praecipue esse malum."
In Switzerland and Italy, during the autumn of 1835, he had made a great
many drawings, carefully outl
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