In estimating the extent to which Ruskin’s attack was excusable, we need to know whether Mill overstepped the bounds of theory, of pure science—and became a political adviser and exhorter. This he certainly did, quite often in his book, and he says in his preface that it was part of his purpose to do so.
Ruskin says that it is when he is thus inconsistent with his own theory, and strays into practical teaching, that he begins to take any interest in him; and certainly Mill gave, precisely because he was a philanthropist and a social reformer, room for a critic to come in and say: “Lo, you pretend to be a practical guide to conduct, and you are only taking account of low and selfish motives; you are an unworthy exponent of human nature, if we are to regard you as taking it all for your province.” The chapters chiefly referred to here are those on “The Advantages of a Stationary State,” and on “The Futurity of the Labouring Classes.”
Ruskin recognizes and admits this in a clever but naughty way:
“I should have regretted the need of pointing out inconsistency in any portion of Mr. Mill’s work, had not the value of his work proceeded from its inconsistencies. He deserves honour among economists by inadvertently disclaiming the principles which he states, and tacitly introducing the moral considerations with which he claims his science has no connection. Many of his chapters are therefore true and valuable; and the only conclusions of his which I have to dispute are those which follow from his premises.”[52] Mill made the distinction between science and social reform quite plain in his chapters, and left no room for confusion. Ruskin must have thoroughly understood this.
Full in the face of this theoretical investigation comes Ruskin’s definition of Political Economy, with which he begins Munera Pulveris:
“Political Economy is neither an art nor science, but a system of conduct and legislature, founded on the sciences, directing the arts, and impossible, except under certain conditions of moral culture.”
Here we have an entirely different object. This Economy aims at telling us what we ought to do for the enriching and purifying of life upon the earth, and what the state ought to do for the same end. This is universal politics and social amelioration: frankly and definitely, not a science at all.
There need be no conflict between this comprehensive study of political ethics, including religion, art, and education among its principal departments—and that science which might usefully come in as one of those on which it is based. To be sure, both claim to be called Political Economy; but that is only a verbal rivalry. As to that, Ruskin’s Political Economy has by derivation the proper right to the term—the State’s Housekeeping. But it is not always wise to follow derivations; the scholastic Economy was in possession of the word, though properly speaking it was not ὁικονομἱα nor was it πολῑτῐκή. Ruskin’s weakness for playing with etymologies, often curious ones, helped to maintain this rivalry in words.
There is room for both studies, the scholastic economies and the Ruskinian economy. That is my thesis.
How differently the criticism of Carlyle and Ruskin might have been launched. Ruskin might have said that he admitted that in business people must be assumed to follow their own interests, that is, that the “economic man” would stand as a general average in business relations. But he might have said, after that, every word that he wanted to say, about the insufficiency of this principle as a guide to conduct. He might have dwelt on the strength of loyalties and affections, and on the powerful economic value of good relations between masters and servants. He might have shown how misleading were economic results if acted on as a complete handbook of conduct even in business. He might have written Unto This Last with an introduction by John Stuart Mill, and everything positive or constructive left in it. The satire and sword-play might have been used for something else.