The spot was not, even then, without its associations:  Gerald Massey the poet, Linton, and his wife Mrs. Lynn Linton the novelist, Dr. G.W.  Kitchin (Dean of Durham) had lived and worked there, and Linton had adorned it outside with revolutionary mottoes—­“God and the people,” and so on.  It had been a favourite point of view of Wordsworth’s; his “seat” was pointed out in the grounds.  Tennyson had lived for a while close by:  his “seat,” too, was on the hill above Lanehead.

But the cottage needed thorough repair, and that cost more than rebuilding, not to speak of the additions of later years, which have ended by making it into a mansion surrounded by a hamlet.  And there was the furnishing; for Denmark Hill, where his mother lived, was still to be headquarters.  Ruskin gave carte-blanche to the London upholsterer with whom he had been accustomed to deal; and such expensive articles were sent that when he came down for a month next autumn, he reckoned that, all included, his country cottage had cost him not less than L4,000.

But he was not the man to spend on himself without sharing his wealth with others.  On November 22nd, Convocation accepted a gift from the Slade Professor of L5,000 to endow a mastership of drawing at Oxford, in addition to the pictures and “copies” placed in the schools; he had set up a relative in business with L15,000, which was unfortunately lost; and at Christmas he gave L7,000, the tithe of his remaining capital, to the St. George’s Fund; of which more hereafter.

On November 23rd he was elected Lord Rector of St. Andrew’s University, by 86 votes against 79 for Lord Lytton.  After the election it was discovered that, by the Scottish Universities Act of 1858, no one holding a professorship at a British University was eligible.  Professor Ruskin was disqualified, and gave no address; and Lord Neaves was chosen in his place.

Mrs. Ruskin was now ninety years of age; her sight was nearly gone, but she still retained her powers of mind, and ruled with severe kindliness her household and her son.  Her old servant Anne had died in March.  Anne had nursed John Ruskin as a baby, and had lived with the family ever since, devoted to them, and ready for any disagreeable task—­

“So that she was never quite in her glory,” “Praeterita” says, “unless some of us were ill.  She had also some parallel speciality for saying disagreeable things, and might be relied upon to give the extremely darkest view of any subject, before proceeding to ameliorative action upon it.  And she had a very creditable and republican aversion to doing immediately, or in set terms, as she was bid; so that when my mother and she got old together, and my mother became very imperative and particular about having her teacup set on one side of her little round table, Anne would observantly and punctiliously put it always on the other:  which caused my mother to state to me, every morning after breakfast, gravely, that if ever a woman in this world was possessed by the Devil, Anne was that woman.”