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AN EXAMINATION 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UTILITARIAN PHILOSOPHY. 
 
PKINTED BY C. J. CLAY, M.A. 
 AT THE UNlVErSITY PKES8. 
 
AN EXAMINATION 
 
 OP THJ} 
 
 UTILITARIAN PHILOSOPHY 
 
 BY THE LATE 
 
 JOHN GROTE, B.D. 
 
 FELLOW OF THINITY COLLEGE, AND PROFESSOR OF MOBAIj PHILOSOPHT 
 IN THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE. 
 
 (ftJ1iTlVBB,SlTY 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 JOSEPH BICKERSTETH MAYOR, M.A. 
 
 LATE FELLOW OF ST JOHN'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE, 
 
 CAMBRIDGE : 
 
 DEIGHTON, BELL, AND CO. 
 
 LONDON: BELL AND DALDY. 
 
 1870. 
 

 I 2 /GS^ 
 
PREFACE BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 Professor Grote died in August 1866, leaving to 
 me the charge of arranging and editing his manu- 
 scripts. In the preceding year he had brought out 
 the first part of his Exploratio Philosophical or 
 Rough Notes on Modern Intellectual Science, The 
 readers of that book will remember the words in 
 which he expresses his foreboding that he had little 
 time remaining for work. ^ I have arrived/ he says, 
 *at an age^ at which a man begins to feel that, if 
 he thinks he has anything to say, he must say it, 
 without being too particular how : if it shall please 
 God to give me opportunity, it is possible that 
 some things said here confusedly may hereafter be 
 put in a clearer form; but in the interim, as time 
 is passing, it is possible that some things which I 
 say may suggest thought in others, and what I see 
 but indistinctly may be seen by them more clearly 
 and put in a better and truer light.' It was in 
 fact because he had been prevented from lecturing 
 
 ^ He was then in his 53rd year. 
 
VI PREFACE BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 during the year by ill health, and 'wished to do 
 what he could/ that he hurried on the publica- 
 tion of the JSxploratio, and brought it out in a less 
 finished state than might for some reasons have been 
 desired. 
 
 The present volume is referred to in the Intro- 
 duction to the Exploratio in the following words. 
 'After the publication of Mr Mill's small book on 
 Utilitarianism, I had the intention of writing some- 
 thing in answer to him on that subject, and had 
 actually begun the printing of the result of this 
 intention. I was led, in connexion with this, to put 
 together the intellectual views on which the moral 
 view rested, which had something of the character of 
 prolegomena to it, and had meant, if they should 
 come within reasonable limits, to publish them in 
 an Appendix/ He afterwards altered his mind, 
 determining ' rather to put together, in an uncontro- 
 versial form, what seemed to me the truth, in oppo- 
 sition to what I thought error.' He goes on to say 
 that this design ' is in the way of being accomplished, 
 subject to all the delays which interest in other 
 employments, uncertain health, and some not, I 
 think, uncalled for scrupulousness and anxiety as to 
 what one writes on a subject so important, may 
 throw in the way of it/ 
 
 Further information is given in the Introduction 
 to the Examination itself, from which it appears that 
 the greater part of it was written as Mr Mill's papers 
 
PREFACE BY THE EDITOR. VU 
 
 came out in Fi^sers Magazine for October, Novem- 
 ber, and December 1861 ; 'but only as remarks of 
 my own, without any definite view to publication.' 
 After being put aside for a while, in the expectation 
 that Mr Mill would publish his views * in a longer 
 and more elaborate form, of which the papers in 
 Fraser might be taken as a preliminary sketch,' 
 these remarks were sent to the press in 1863, upon 
 the republication of the papers in a separate volume, 
 the Author considering that Mr Mill thereby gave 
 them to the world as the authentic exposition of his 
 views upon the subject. The Introduction and the 
 first seven chapters were already in print when the 
 type was broken up in consequence of the change 
 of plan already referred to. 
 
 Perhaps it may be well for me to explain here 
 why I have thought it expedient to select as the first 
 in order for publication of Professor Grote's manu- 
 scripts that one of which he had himself cancelled the 
 proof In the instructions which accompany his will 
 he authorizes his literary executor to deal with his 
 papers as he might judge best, and to select or alter 
 at pleasure, suggesting however that they might 
 'all, or the greater part of them, be published in 
 three divisions : first, and most important. Miscel- 
 lanea Ethica, next. Miscellanea Philologica et Fhilo-- 
 sophica,' When the papers came into my hands I 
 found a mass of manuscript written on various sub- 
 jects and at various times up to within a few days of 
 
Vlll PREFACE BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 his death ; the great majority however dating 
 certainly not earlier than his appointment to the 
 Professorship of Moral Philosophy in 1855. Some 
 of these consist of courses of lectures ; more seem 
 written for the purpose of clearing up his own views; 
 hardly any are complete treatises, and none are pre- 
 pared for publication. 
 
 My original intention, as soon as I had brought 
 the papers into some kind of order, was to commence 
 by printing the Second Part of the Exploratio, which 
 the author had himself announced as speedily to 
 follow the First Part, and for which materials exist 
 sufficient to fill a volume. On further examination 
 however these appeared to be of so fragmentary a 
 nature that I thought it better to begin with some- 
 thing which had more approach to completeness. 
 Besides this, though I did not feel myself bound to 
 carry out the proposed division in three miscellaneous 
 groups, which was evidently suggested with the 
 view of saving trouble to the editor, yet the author s 
 instructions left no doubt that his ethical writings 
 were in his own view the most important ; while 
 they are at the same time written in a more po- 
 pular style, and likely to interest a larger number 
 of persons, than the Exploratio. I determined there- 
 fore to print first some of the later ethical writings ; 
 and of these it seemedt ome that the best starting- 
 point for the understanding of Professor Grote's 
 views would be furnished by that which showed most 
 
PREFACE BY THE EDITOR. IX 
 
 clearly their relation to the reigning ethics of Utili- 
 tarianism. If the ' uncontroversial statement/ al- 
 luded to in the Introduction to the Exploratio, had 
 been completed, that might have superseded the 
 necessity of publishing the present Examination of 
 the Utilitarian Philosophy: but in the unfinished 
 state in which the former has been left, it will 
 certainly follow more usefully as a comment upon 
 portions of the latter. 
 
 It remains for me to explain how far I have 
 made use of the discretionary powers allowed me as 
 editor. Those who have read the Exploratio will 
 not require to be told that Professor Grote's style is 
 sometimes careless, and sometimes harsh and in- 
 volved. In some respects it curiously resembles 
 that of one for whom he entertained a sincere ad- 
 miration, though their minds were of very different 
 character, and though he continually criticizes his 
 writings — Jeremy Bentham. What is said of the 
 latter by his editor might be applied to Professor 
 Grote, that 'he left it to others to shape and adapt to 
 use the fabric of thought which came out continuously 
 from the manufactory of his own brain.' Thus we 
 may in part account for the negligent colloquialism 
 which appears in so many of his sentences, when we 
 find him saying of himself {Explo7\ p. xxxii.), 'Heading 
 and speculating, and even to a certain extent writing, 
 on the subjects which the following pages concern, 
 is something which is so much a pleasure to me, 
 
X PREFACE BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 whereas preparing for the press and publication is so 
 exceedingly otherwise, that the hesitation which I 
 have hitherto felt has a tendency to continue,' etc. 
 His first object was to secure the thought for him- 
 self, not to put it in the most inviting form for 
 readers. But in part his colloquialism was inten- 
 tional. It was a rooted opinion with him that a 
 man s style should be the most natural and immediate 
 expression of his thought, and that there should be 
 as much freedom in writing as in talking. I have 
 heard him find fault with a style which had been 
 praised as the perfection of clearness and accuracy on 
 the ground that it wanted character and did not 
 sufficiently shew the man. Besides this he had a 
 special dislike to what is called the ^dignity' of 
 history or philosophy, thinking that it kept people 
 at a distance from the actual facts. Thus in one of 
 his Lectures he says, 'The words and language I 
 shall use will be such as seem to me most free from 
 ambiguity, and most distinctly to convey my mean- 
 ing, whether or not they are the most elegant, or 
 the most in common use.' And again, ' I have 
 avoided, where I could, old or regular philosophical 
 terms, because in reality one of the greatest difficul- 
 ties in philosophy is the uncertainty and vagueness 
 with which they are used.' For the same reason he, 
 like Bentham, frequently coins new terms ; as in the 
 Exploratio we have adstance, hiohjectal, cosmocen- 
 trie, relativism; and in the present book unitary, ra- 
 
PREFACE BY THE EDITOR. XI 
 
 tionary, hedonics, intuitivism, etc.; 'not/ as he says, 
 ' that I have any intention of making new words for 
 what lexicographers may call the English language ; 
 I merely give defined terms to express certain rela- 
 tions of thought :' and he even recommends his 
 hearers, 'inste5,d of following his nomenclature, to 
 make their own for themselves in the best way they 
 can.' In another passage he states more at length 
 his reason for abstaining from the use of the ordinary 
 technical terms : ' I have done this designedly, not 
 because I at all wish to appear to differ from others 
 where perhaps I do not, but because I think that it 
 would often be better for those who really take pains 
 to find out an author s meaning in philosophy, if he 
 would use terms of his own, rather than terms of 
 common philosophical use, which he takes for granted 
 the reader will understand. No doubt the reader 
 will understand them in a way, and will very likely 
 get on more smoothly than if the terms were as I 
 recommend ; but I think it very doubtful whether 
 the reader will understand them in the author's way, 
 or all readers in the same way ; and the result will 
 be unsatisfactoriness and confusion.' 
 
 One other point in which Professor Grote's style 
 resembles that of Bentham deserves mention here, 
 namely, the manner in which qualifying clauses are 
 combined with the principal sentences. Of the former 
 no less than of the latter it may be said, that *he 
 could not bear, for the sake of clearness and the 
 
XU PREFACE BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 reader's ease, to say, as ordinary men are content to 
 do, a little more than the truth in one sentence, and 
 correct it in the next. The whole of the qualifying 
 remarks which he intended to make, he insisted 
 upon imbedding as parentheses in the very middle of 
 the sentence itself (Mill's Dissertations j Vol. i. 
 
 P- 391.) 
 
 Such being the peculiarities of the Author's style, 
 
 the smaller changes which I have made have been 
 chiefly with the view of simplifying constructions, and 
 pruning away unnecessary roughnesses, wherever 
 this could be done without injury to the character- 
 istic flavour. Thus I have continually changed 
 relative into demonstrative clauses, and in general 
 have omitted qualifying clauses when they could be 
 naturally supplied from the context. As I have had 
 the advantage of working with the constant advice 
 and cooperation of one who was most intimately asso- 
 ciated with Professor Grote during the latter years 
 of his life and had the most familiar knowledge of 
 his modes of thought and expression, I trust that, in 
 my endeavour to facilitate the reading of his book 
 for the general public, I have not really sacrificed 
 anything which would be regretted by the nearer 
 circle of his friends. 
 
 In making larger changes, such as breaking up 
 and rearranging or omitting paragraphs or chapters, 
 I have been guided partly by the author's own 
 practice, as shown by a comparison of the MS. of the 
 
PREFACE BY THE EDITOR. XIU 
 
 Exploratio and of the first seven chapters of the 
 Examination with his own printed text; but inde- 
 pendently of this, I have not scrupled to make any 
 alteration by which it seemed to me that the con- 
 nexion of ideas would be brought out more clearly. 
 The reader may be interested to compare the order 
 and the titles of the chapters after the seventh, as 
 they now stand, and as they are given in the MS. 
 The earlier chapters, having been printed under the 
 author's supervision, I have retained in the order in 
 which he placed them. It must be understood that 
 in general the chapters were sewn up separately 
 as independent Essays, but bearing their number 
 and title. 
 
 MS. Ch. 8. No title. 
 
 This chapter is broken up. It seems to have been an 
 earlier sketch of those which follow. Portions of it aro 
 incorporated in ch. xv. and ch. xvi. 
 
 MS. Ch. 9. On the Real Bindingness of Duty, 
 
 Is printed as ch. viii., with the title Duty and the Utilita- 
 rian Sanctions. 
 
 MS. Ch. 10. The Utilitarian view of the Bind- 
 ingness of Duty. 
 
 Printed as ch. ix., with the title Duty and the Utilitarian 
 Justice. 
 
 MS. Ch. II. Comparative Importance of Duty , 
 
 Virtue, and Happiness, in respect of the Moral 
 
 Sentiment and of Practice. 
 
 The first part is printed as ch. x., with the title The Moral 
 Sentiment in its Relation to Happiness^ Virtue, and 
 
XIV PREFACE BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 Duty: the latter part is incorporated in ch. xvi. and. 
 ch. XX. 
 
 MS. Ch. 12. On the Position of Utilitarianism 
 in the History of Philosophy. 
 
 Printed as ch. XV. with the same title. Part is inserted 
 in ch. XVI. 
 
 MS. Ch. 13. On the Method or Scientific Cha- 
 racter of Utilitarianism, 
 
 Printed as ch. xvii.: part inserted in ch. xviii. 
 
 MS. Ch. 14. The Practical Character of Utili- 
 tarianism, or its Relation to what is needed at the 
 Present Time, 
 
 Printed as ch. xvi., On the Practical Glmracter of Utilita- 
 Q'iardsm, or its delation to what is needed from Moral 
 Philosophy. The latter half inserted in ch. xxi. 
 
 MS. Ch. 1 5. Moral Imperativeness ^ or the Rela- 
 tion of the Moral Ideal to the Positive and Observa- 
 tional. 
 
 Part is printed as the Appendix to ch. iv., On the Utilita- 
 rianis7n which is Common to all Moral Philosophy. The 
 rest is divided between ch. xii., Moral Imperativeness as 
 based upon Psychological Analysis, and ch. xiii., Moral 
 Imperativeness as based upon Ideality or Belief in 
 Higher Fact. 
 
 MS. Ch. 16. On the Relation of Morals to 
 Religion, 
 
 Printed as ch. xiv. : part inserted in ch. xxi. 
 
 MS. Ch. 17. Various Final Considerations. 
 
 Part is incorporated in ch. xx., On the Claim of Utilitor 
 rianism to be the Morality of Progress; part in ch. 
 
PREFACE BY THE EDITOR. XV 
 
 XXI., What are the Requisites of a Moral Philosophy 
 at the Present Time ? part forms the Appendix to 
 ch. XII. 
 
 MS. Ch. 1 8. Nature of Human Progress, 
 
 Divided into ch. xi., The Ideal Element in Morality in its 
 Relation to the Positive and Observational^ ch. xviii.. 
 The Philoso2)hy of Progress : ch. xix., The Morality of 
 Progress. Part is inserted in ch. xxi. 
 
 These changes are to a certain extent in accord- 
 ance with a subsequent note of the author which 
 gives the following arrangement of subjects : 
 
 Preliminary Review of Mr Mill. 
 Philosophical Utilitarianism : Happiness. 
 Distribution of Useful and Beneficent Action : 
 
 Duty. 
 Disposition to consult Happiness beyond our 
 
 own : Virtue, 
 Moral Idealism and Imperativeness. 
 Utilitarianism from point of view of Historv 
 
 of Philosophy, and Scientific Method. 
 Utilitarianism from point of view of Human 
 
 Progress or Improvement. 
 
 In making the changes referred to I have oc- 
 casionally found it necessary to add a connecting 
 clause. Where this extends to more than a few 
 words I have distinguished it by enclosing it in 
 square brackets. Other additions of my own are the 
 Table of Contents, Marginal Summaries, Peferences, 
 and Occasional Notes. The latter are marked with 
 
XVI PREFACE BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 figures (and, where they go beyond a mere reference, 
 are signed Ed^ to distinguish them from the 
 author's notes, which are marked with the asterisk, 
 obelus, etc. The references to Mr Mill's Utilita- 
 rianism are to the ist Edition. 
 
 I cannot conclude without expressing my warmest 
 thanks to my friend Mr Hort, to whom I am indebted 
 for most valuable assistance. In the midst of pressing 
 literary work of his own he has devoted many hours 
 to the examination of the proof sheets as they were 
 passing through the press, and has thus helped to 
 make this a more worthy memorial of one to whom 
 we are bound by the ties of a common reverence and 
 affection, who was as careless of his own fame as he 
 was always prompt to recognize and encourage the 
 efforts of others. 
 
 May^ 1870. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Utilitarianism as held by Mr Mill compared with preceding 
 forms of it. 
 
 PAGE 
 Mr Mill gives up points objected to in the old utilitarianism, and 
 approximates to non-utilitarian schools ; *as in reference to quality of 
 pleasure, the value of social feeling, and the authority of traditional 
 morality 14 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 What does happiness consist int 
 
 Happiness an important consideration in all moral systems: in 
 utilitarianism the sole test of rightness. Diflficulty of describing it. 
 Mr Mill at one time identifies it with pleasure, at another with 
 contentment. It must be defined before the utilitarian axiom can have 
 any significance. Further examination of Mr Mill's account of hap- 
 piness 2G 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 On quality of pleasure^ 
 
 Utilitarianism cannot properly recognize any difference in pleasure 
 except that of quantity. Mr Mill's difference of quality estimated by 
 general experience would be really difference of quantity : but ho leaves 
 it doubtful whether experience with him means simple testimony or 
 authoritative opinion : he assumes the distinction of higher and lower 
 faculties. Difference of quality cannot be measured. Pleasures cannot 
 be compared for scientific purposes ; they depend on the individual 
 mind 45 
 
 b 
 
XVm CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Proof of utilitarianism. 
 
 PAOK 
 
 Different uses of the term utilitarianism. Mr Mill's moralization of 
 natural feeling. He vainly attempts to prove from experience that hap- 
 piness is the criterion of morality. His proof applies only to private, 
 not to general, happiness. The use of the term happiness in the proof is 
 too vague for practice ; and inconsistent with its previous identification 
 •with pleasure. With what limitations is it true that happiness is a 
 moralizing consideration ? This idea alien to the old utilitarianism 68 
 
 APPENDIX TO CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The utilita7'ianism which is common to all moral philosophy. 
 
 In the absolute, happiness is the end of action. Still goodness, or 
 the desire to produce happiness, and justice, or right distribution 
 of happiness, are of equal and independent value : and goodness aims at 
 producing a worthy happiness 79 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 On the distribution of action for happiness. 
 
 Utilitarianism furnishes no principle for the distribution of hap- 
 piness. Bentham's rule of equality, adopted by Mr Mill, is inconsistent 
 with Mr Mill's doctrine of sympathy, and is in itself impracticable. How 
 it differs from the Christian rule. The true principle is given partly 
 by the idea of duty, which binds us to do good to each according to 
 his claims, and partly by the idea of virtue, which teaches us to prefer 
 the happiness of others to our own. Asceticism conducive to happiness 85 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 On the real goodness of virtue. 
 
 Activity no less than sentience an original element of human nature. 
 Action is valuable in itself independently of its end. Virtue is good, 
 partly as it is the putting forth of man's nature, partly as an approxima- 
 
CONTENTS. XIX 
 
 PAGK 
 
 tion to an ideal. Moral use of the terms * higher ' and * lower '. The 
 morality of self-government dwells too exclusively on the action, utilita- 
 rianism on the end : analogous to the principles of honour and utility in 
 common life 105 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Utilitarian view of the goodness of virtue. 
 
 Unreasonableness of the utilitarian assumption that there can be 
 only one source of moral value, viz. happiness. Mr Mill makes this 
 assumption, but holds that virtue must still be desired for its own sake. 
 In this he separates goodness of feeling from Tightness of action in a 
 manner inconsistent with his own teaching. The separation is only 
 allowable where morality takes the form of law 119 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Duty and the utilitarian sanctions. 
 
 Difficulty of reconciling the idea of duty with the utilitarian 
 system. Mr Mill's internal and external sanctions. The former an 
 incorrect and misleading use of the word ; which is borrowed from law 
 and properly refers to punishment only. Duty may be performed, 
 as law iS" obeyed, either from fear or from recognition of it as right. 
 The feeling of duty informs us of two facts ; that we are bound to 
 the other party; that we are responsible to the superior authority 134 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Duty and the utilitarian justice. 
 
 Inconsistencies in Mr Mill's chapter on justice : he admits the parti- 
 cularity of duty ; but makes punishment the essence of law. Derivation 
 oijustum from jubeo. Law is the embodiment of public reason. Mr 
 Mill's account of the growth of the idea oijus 148 
 
XX CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The moral sentiment in its relation to happiness, virtue, and 
 
 duty. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The ideas of virtue and duty are developments of the natural 
 tendency to activity, as usefulness is of the desire of pleasure. All three 
 are essential to goodness. Each is attended by a moral sentiment. 
 Blending of the sentiments of virtue and duty. The various moral 
 sentiments must be instructed by reason. Conscience is not a mere 
 product of education and fear of others 159 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The ideal element in morality in its relation to the positive 
 and observational. 
 
 The supposition of an ideal is essential to moral philosophy. The 
 essence of the ideal is the recognition of the double nature of man. 
 Duty, virtue, and happiness are independent forms of the moral ideal. 
 The fact of free will excludes positivism from ethics : but observation is 
 needed for the expansion of the ideal : and, as subsidiary to ethics, we 
 want various positive sciences such as * hedonics.' 171 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Moral imperativeness as based upon psychological analysis. 
 
 Attempts to develop the ideal from the positive by the psychological 
 moralists. Butler finds authority in conscience : others find it in 
 reason : neither has authority unless rightly informed. The morality 
 of rule and the morality of end both appeal to the authority of reason : 
 the two are not really inconsistent ; the ideal element involved in each 
 case is the ground of its authority. Moral imperativeness as derived 
 from emotion 183 
 
CONTENTS. XXI 
 
 APPENDIX TO CHAPTER XII. 
 On the adjustment between self-regard and regard for others. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Paley's adjustment gives the positive, Mr Mill's the ideal, morality of 
 reason. The true adjustment arises from the combination of both with 
 emotion 196 
 
 CHAPTER Xin. 
 
 Moral imperativeness as based upon ideality or belief in 
 
 higher fact. 
 
 Impossibility of explaining the authority of our moral judgments 
 from the positive side. Yet morality is based upon fact : the fact of 
 higher moral natures in whose existence we believe ; and the fact of our 
 attribution of superiority to certain dispositions in ourselves. Moral 
 responsibility is partly the danger of missing the higher happiness ; 
 partly our obligation to obey the laws of an ideal moral society. The 
 feeling of responsibility is fostered by our life in society ; but not created 
 by it ; is itself a main constituent of society 199 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 On the relation of morals to religion. 
 
 Mischiefs arising from the separation of morals and religion. Such 
 separation inevitable in the pagan world. Moral philosophy both leads 
 up to religion and is of use in itself 214 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 On the position of utilitarianism in the history of philosophy. 
 
 Utilitarianism disliked partly from its name ; • utile ' being contrasted 
 with * dulce ' on one side and ' honestum ' on the other : partly from its 
 history. From being emotional and conservative it became legislative 
 and reforming at the end of the 18th century : objected to then for its 
 revolutionary spirit ; afterwards on account of its principles as supply- 
 ing an insufficient morality. Its relation to the religious feeling of the 
 time ; and generally to Christianity : 221 
 
XXU CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XYI. 
 
 On the practical character of utilitarianism, or its relation to 
 what is needed from moral philosophy. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Mistaken praise of utilitarianism as a simple common-sense morality. 
 If it is thus simple it cannot be true to the complications of human life. 
 Of the two hindrances to the promotion of happiness, ignorance and in- 
 disposition, it provides a partial remedy against the one, but does not 
 touch the other. Illustration from communism. The new utilitarianism, 
 inculcating sociality, departs from the old ; but its philanthropy does 
 not belong to its system, and has nothing distinctive except its negative 
 character. In suppressing variety it is in danger of diminishing happi- 
 ness 242 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 On the scientific character or method of utilitarianism. 
 
 Ethical schools are not rightly divided into inductive and intuitive. 
 The ethics of conscience and of the kindly emotions are both more 
 inductive than utilitarianism ; the principle of which is a prioHy 
 involving an ideal. The only utilitarianism which can be called in- 
 ductive is that which, ceasing to be idealist, ceases also to be morality. 
 The new utilitarianism is more idealist and a priori than the old. All 
 true systems join a subsidiary inductive science to their intuitive 
 axiom. It is in its subsidiary science, not in its method, that utilita- 
 rianism differs from other systems 260 
 
 CHAPTER XVIIL 
 
 The philosophy of progress. 
 
 Idealist and unidealist views of progress. The latter cannot logically 
 embrace duty or improvement. All improvement flows from belief in 
 an ideal, i.e. from the feeling of liberty. Sophistry of necessitarianism. 
 The idealistic elements do not tend to disappear. Mistaken analogy 
 between the life of the race and of the individual. Man's mind is richer 
 ideally, especially in morality, than it was 2000 years ago. Secularism 
 
CONTENTS. XXlll 
 
 PAOB 
 
 and positivism. The progress of physical science is not the only type of 
 progress. Difficulty of drawing conclusions from the history of progress. 
 May not positivism be premature in some subjects ? Is our experience 
 long enough to base conclusions on ? Progress an idealist conception. 
 Criticism not sceptical. Positivism the natural foe to progress 279 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 The morality of progress. 
 
 The study of human experience is complicated by the fact of human 
 opinion ; as in regard to what constitutes happiness. Comte's ' Soci- 
 ology ' is merely a name for a mass of heterogeneous facts and sciences ; 
 but it may be of use if it helps to correlate these : by teaching what man 
 is, it may prepare the way for ethics to teach what he should he. The 
 history of progress does not favour utilitarianism. Civilization, which is 
 mainly a development of idealism, cannot be gauged by the amount of 
 happiness it causes. Questions of social morahty, e.g. slavery, cannot 
 be decided on utilitarian or positivist grounds only. Difficulties which 
 still threaten civilization ; arising from differences of race ; from poverty. 
 Exclusive attention to immediate wants is opposed to improvement 310 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 On the claim of utilitarianism to he the morality of progress. 
 
 It is not true that human nature has now learnt that its exclusive 
 aim should be its own happiness. Positivist utilitarianism tells it that 
 it has outgrown its theological and metaphysical imaginations ; but now, 
 as ever, it strives to rise above itself in religion and morality. Mr' 
 Mill connects utilitarianism with progress by the idea of equality : but 
 (1) equality is not really a part of utilitarianism : (2) levelling is not 
 always an advance ; class interests are a restraint on individual selfish- 
 ness : (3) individuality, which is encouraged by variety of circumstances, 
 is as important to society as similarity 326 
 
XXl^r CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 What are the requisites of a moral philosophy at the present 
 
 time ? 
 
 PAGK 
 
 Moral philosophy slighted at the present time, as being either one- 
 sided or unpractical. It should aim less at system than at largeness of 
 view. The utilitarian attempt to solve moral questions by the single 
 principle of happiness, compared to the Ionic physical philosophy. 
 The true method is Aristotle's • moral biology.' Morality involves 
 a faith in the harmony of all good : it must not narrow good to pleasure ; 
 ■which is merely the accompaniment of health, and should never be the 
 distinct aim of life. The true ideal exalts individuality no less than 
 sociality. The work of morality is rather to animate than restrain ; it 
 must not carry regulation so far as to check variety of character. It 
 should aim, in concert with religion, at the improvement of individuals, 
 as well as of custom. Improvement is the providentially guided work of 
 human will ; and religion has been a main agent in effecting it 842 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The purpose of the following pages is to show that, 
 though virtue or right action is the great source of 
 human happiness, still the fact that it is so does not 
 of itself constitute it virtue, or explain what we 
 mean when we use that term. The doctrine here 
 controverted may, roughly speaking, be called Utili- 
 tarianism. Against this doctrine, or in qualification 
 of it, I have endeavoured to show what in my view 
 is the manner in which we ought to regard the fact 
 that virtue or right action is promotive of human 
 happiness, and what other considerations or elements 
 of moral value ought to be taken account of in con- 
 junction with it. 
 
 By the side of this discussion I have placed ano- 
 ther, with the view of showing that though man, if 
 we look at his past history, has proceeded along a 
 course which has been one of real improvement, still 
 it is not from the fact that such and no other has 
 been his course, that we are able to judge that it is 
 improvement, but we must further be able to give 
 reasons why we call it improvement rather than the 
 opposite. That is to say, we must have the idea 
 of improvement : an idea of what ought to he, or 
 
 1 
 
2 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 what it is desirable should he, as well as a power of 
 observing, recording, and analyzing what {5. 
 
 What in this latter point of view I have contro- 
 verted is a way of thinking about morals, which may 
 be roughly called by the name Positivism ; by which 
 I mean the line of thought which endeavours to con- 
 struct a system of morals, or something to supply the 
 place of one, from observation and experience of fact 
 alone, without any previous assumption or idea. 
 This, we are told, is the course which has been 
 pursued with other sciences, and which ought now 
 to be pursued with moral science, if it is to exist 
 as a science at all. 
 
 I have endeavoured to show that on the ground 
 of simple experience and observation, without some- 
 thing which our mind must superadd, there is no 
 basis, in reference to the past history of men, for any 
 real notion of improvement : nor any basis, in refer- 
 ence to practical morals, for even that modified de- 
 gree of imperativeness with which, on the system 
 which I have above called utilitarianism, right action 
 or virtue commends itself to us. Something beyond 
 experience and observation is needed for any form of 
 moral science, and therefore the profession on the 
 part of any proposer of such a form, that it keeps 
 itself to observation and experience alone, is nugatory. 
 
 Moral science is thus, even in the most rudimen- 
 tary notion of it, not a science only, but an art, the 
 ' ars artium,' the art of life : it is of no use even enter- 
 ing upon our observation in regard of it, till we have 
 made up our minds what it is we want. We are not 
 simply speculators in it, but are aiming at something, 
 we must know what. Moral science in fact implies 
 the having an ideal in our minds of human nature 
 and human life by the side of our experience and 
 observation of them. And if we are to have such an 
 
INTRODUCTION. 3 
 
 ideal at all, we may as well have it a full, complete, 
 and worthy one. 
 
 Utilitarianism endeavours to a great extent to 
 take a middle place, as to moral science, between 
 positivism and idealism, (if we use the latter term to 
 express the assumption of an ideal or something 
 beyond experience). Professing to keep to fact and 
 observation, it understands by the name of ^ hap- 
 piness' something which it (really) not only shows 
 that men try to gain, but assumes it is desirable 
 they should. This therefore is with it an ideal ; and 
 according to the manner of dealing with this, the 
 utilitarianism is of different kinds. But in all its 
 forms, it more or less, while disclaiming idealism, 
 borrows a great deal which belongs to idealism 
 alone. By an ideal we mean something which wen 
 ought to aim at or try to produce, and the notion ; 
 of an ideal involves the notion of one line of conduct i 
 rather than another being of itself imperative upon us | 
 or at least desirable for us. Utilitarianism, without I 
 sufficient care whether its chosen ideal is a complete/ 
 one, invests it with all the characters of a complete 
 one, and pronounces, first, that such conduct as tends to ^ 
 produce happiness is conduct which is imperative upon \ 
 us, and next, that it is the only conduct which is so. 
 
 Against this I have maintained that, though 
 observation and experience are all- important for 
 moral science as for other sciences, yet the profession 
 of exhibiting a positive science of morals, differing in 
 its method from a supposed a priot^i one, is vain and 
 unmeaning ; because all moral science, to have any 
 value, must begin with assuming that there is some- 
 thing imperative upon us to do, or desirable for us 
 to do ; must begin, that is, with an ideal : if it 
 does not make this assumption, its real course is the 
 exceedingly unphilosophical one of beginning with 
 
 1—2 
 
4 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 describing what man does do, and then, by degrees 
 and unauthorizedly, altering its language and speak- 
 ing of this as what he should do or ought to do. And 
 if utilitarianism makes the above profession, it stands 
 in a position, I have endeavoured to show, between 
 positivism and idealism, in which it has the merits, if 
 merits they are to be called, of neither : it is not 
 true on the one side to its scientific profession, and 
 on the other it fails altogether to give us an ideal of 
 human action which meets our expectation and our 
 reason, and a view of human life which we can recog- 
 
 i nize as a sufficient one. 
 
 I I have endeavoured to exhibit as well as I am 
 
 able the other considerations of moral importance, or 
 elements of moral value in conduct, which require 
 to be taken into account in conjunction with the con- 
 sideration of its tendency to promote happiness, in 
 order that we may form a right moral judgment 
 about it: and to exhibit also the relation of each 
 of these to the others. I have shown that the most 
 intelligent and energetic determination to do nothing 
 but what is useful or productive of happiness (and 
 this is what the utilitarian inculcates) will not at all 
 
 l/ settle the question, whose happiness it is that we are 
 to try to produce : that the most important points of 
 moral difficulty arise not in reference to the question 
 about actions, whether they are useful or not, but in 
 reference to the question, ivho it is, in the conflict of 
 var ious interests in life, that they are useful to. 
 While the utilitarian, both by his profession and his 
 self-chosen name, marks that the chief purpose of 
 morals is to teach us to do such actions as tend to 
 promote happiness, I have endeavoured to show that 
 the name of virtue properly belongs to something 
 more particular than this, — to the next step, if we like 
 so to speak, — namely, to the doing such actions as 
 
INTRODUCTION. 5 
 
 tend to promote the happiness of others and of the 
 public in distinction from our own : and to show that 
 there must be involved besides in our ideal of right 
 action a notion of the right distribution of action 
 among the various possible objects of it, which notion 
 I have called by the name of duty. And not only 
 are there thus other things to be considered in refer- 
 ence to right action besides the fact of its production 
 of happiness, but Jbhe. nature itself of the happiness is^ 
 to be considered : we have not at all as yet esta- 
 blished a firm ground for moral science by imagining 
 an ideal of the desirable for man, and calling it hap- 
 piness, if of this happiness itself there may be an ideal, 
 one sort more desirable than another, so that it is as 
 much the part of virtue to try to elevate the cha- 
 racter of human happiness as to act for the pro- 
 duction of it. We must then have principles to go 
 upon in judging as to different utilitarianisms which 
 set before us different ideals or heights of happiness, 
 and we have to pass from resting in the considera- 
 tion of happiness itself to the consideration what 
 gives to it its A^alue. 
 
 The question between the positive and the ideal, 
 what is and what should be, observation and experi- 
 ence on the one side and the thought of something as 
 desirable or imperative on the other, presents itself 
 not only in reference to the scientific foundation of 
 moral science, but through all the carrying of it out : 
 and I have had to speak of the failure of utilitarian- 
 ism in reference to this also. I have endeavoured 
 to show the doubleness of view which belongs to 
 moral science throughout: of a something which 
 is, is observed, is felt ; and a something which should 
 be, which is, we might perhaps say, in a different 
 and higher manner than the other, guiding action 
 through the agency of our freedom in a course 
 
6 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 different from that to which the other would incline 
 it. But I will not anticipate further. 
 
 Only at the least to say this: I have spoken a 
 little about the exceedingly difficult question of the 
 relation of the positive and the ideal to each other, 
 with a view of showing that I regard moral science, 
 as much as any one can do, as a science of experience 
 and observation, and consider that no want can be 
 greater than that of the proper application of these 
 to it. But moral science, if it is a science at all, 
 must be a science of a higher order than simply 
 positive sciences are; the word 'higher' not here 
 denoting superiority, but something analogous to 
 what mathematicians mean when they speak of 
 higher powers, degrees, &c. Its subject being human 
 choice or liberty, the world immediately before its 
 view is not the world of that which is, but of that 
 which may he, and its task is to find in this that which 
 should he or which ought to he. Its observation there- 
 fore of that which exists, which cannot be too exten- 
 sive and accurate, is subservient to a further purpose, 
 and much which positive science, as it has attained to 
 clearer views, has thrown off, must not be thrown off 
 here. We must try to enlist more of positive observa- 
 tion in the service of moral science, without thinking 
 that by this we in any way alter the essence and 
 principle of this latter. 
 
 I have described rather what this Essay has turned 
 out to be, than what in its earlier portions it seems 
 to profess to be, and must apologize for much that is 
 defective in the form of it, as well as for something 
 of repetition, and something of confusion. This last 
 does not, I think, arise from confusion of thought (if 
 I had thought so, I should not have published the 
 Essay), but from the great difficulty of digesting 
 under separate heads the various things treated of, 
 
INTRODUCTION. 7 
 
 which interlace in many ways with each other ; and 
 from the fear lest the attempt to do this might hinder 
 in any way, what I consider of more consequence than 
 completeness of form, namely, the simple expression 
 of what I think. I have such a strong feeling of the 
 injury which has been done to moral science by the 
 attempts of writers to isolate the different portions of 
 it from each other, for the purpose of exhibiting them 
 the more clearly, that while fully recognizing the 
 importance of this, if one can but do it well, I have 
 in the present instance preferred to take but little 
 pains about it. What I have most dreaded, in the 
 interest of truth, has been lest anything that I have 
 said should appear to have a completeness which 
 does not belong to it, and lest I should bar up any 
 ways in which the thought of any interested in these 
 subjects might otherwise tend to expand itself I had 
 much rather that what I have said should be sug- 
 gestively unsatisfactory than unfruitfully satisfactory. 
 My subject is not one which I should have written 
 upon without having thought a good deal about it, 
 and without considering that I had really something 
 to say about it; but I have not sufficient respect, in 
 a scientific point of view, for the moral systems which 
 are past to have any ambition to add one to the 
 number. My idea of moral philosophy is much 
 more as of a thing which we all think and talk about, 
 but often exceedingly foolishly and badly, so that 
 what we want is good sense, discrimination, and 
 wideness of view, than as of a thing on which our 
 minds are free and unoccupied, so that what we want 
 is to have it set before us in the best systematic form 
 for our holding it. It is right manner of thought 
 that we want about it, more than systematic know-^ 
 ledofe. I think I have sufficient intellectual love of 
 discussion, and care for truth, not to feel hurt at being 
 
7 
 
 O INTRODUCTION. 
 
 set right, and at anything which I may have said 
 wrong being answered : but were this not so, on moral 
 science at least, that eternal battlefield, I have not 
 the slightest hope, at this time of day, of saying any- 
 thing incontrovertible. I look with a kind of wonder 
 at the positiveness of assertion with which some of 
 those, whose doctrines I shall treat of, have spoken, 
 and am led to hesitate whether any, who can have 
 seen such a very little way around them, have a 
 'priori much claim to be listened to. But I feel 
 strongly that if it is foolish to speak dogmatically 
 about these much controverted topics, it is worse to 
 speak about them, of set purpose, merely inconclu=^ 
 sively and sceptically ; there is no pretension to 
 wisdom more fallacious than that which is furnished 
 by this latter course. 
 
 Mr Mill stands at the head of a line of thought 
 which I have for some time wished to controvert as in 
 my view erroneous, though I have had, and have still, 
 hesitation in writing on these subjects, a hesitation 
 which the last preceding paragraph may explain. 
 The present Essay commences with, and more or less 
 embodies throughout, a critique of his papers on Utili- 
 tarianism which appeared in Eraser s Magazine for 
 October, November, and December 1861. As they are 
 controversial in form, I have thought it a thing not 
 unreasonable, and which ought not to give any pain, 
 to controvert them; I am glad however that they 
 belong to a different style of controversy from that 
 which characterizes the articles in review of the works 
 of Professor Sedgwick and Dr Whewell, republished 
 since with other Essays by Mr Mill. Considering 
 that moral science is to teach us our duty, one might 
 wish that controversy in regard to it could give the 
 example to other controversy of the tone in which 
 such discussion should be conducted, and could take 
 
INTRODUCTION. 9 
 
 the lead in introducing a kind of jus belli, as it were, 
 which might mitigate, if it could not put an end to, 
 the inevitable harshness of dispute. The 'odium ethi- 
 cuni' is even more unreasonable than the 'odium 
 theologicum/ The cessation of it would be, I think, 
 an advantage, not only to our tempers, but to the inter- 
 ests of truth and the progress of moral science. But 
 these things are past, and I merely refer to them. 
 The hard words bandied between utilitarians and 
 their opponents fifty years ago may freely be con- 
 sidered, to use a manner of expression which I am 
 not fond of, an anachronism now. 
 
 The greater part of the present Essay was written 
 at the time of the appearance of Mr Mill's papers in 
 Fraser, but only as remarks of ray own upon them, 
 without any definite view to publication. I thought 
 it not improbable that Mr Mill would publish his 
 views on the subjects here treated of in a longer and 
 more elaborate form, of which the papers in Fraser 
 might be taken as a preliminary sketch : and in 
 this expectation, acting to augment my general dis- 
 inclination to write on the subject, my remarks were 
 for a time put aside. As however he seems, by 
 republishing the papers in a separate form, to give 
 them as the definite expression of his views, I have 
 taken the remarks up again, and now submit them 
 to the reader's consideration. 
 
 As I profess myself uninterested to defend any 
 school, as- 1 have no wish to originate any school of 
 my own, and yet have strongly denounced, as un- 
 worthy of reason, the writing merely to profess in- 
 conclusivism and scepticism, the reader may ask why 
 I should say anything, and may think it can only 
 be from the unworthy motive of criticizing and cavil- 
 ling at those who have something to say, and have 
 a school which they wish to defend. 
 
10 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 I answer : there seem to me to be two manners 
 of thought belonging to moral philosophy, each in 
 its way good. The one is that which (carried out 
 wrongly and to extremes) I have alluded to in the fol- 
 lowing pages under the name of sectarian, but which 
 need not be so carried out. New, or apparently 
 new, moral theories constantly form a centre of at- 
 traction and a bond of brotherhood, tending in this 
 way to stir up the minds of many, and to draw out 
 both their intellectual powers and their moral emo- 
 tions. No such community can exist without stimu- 
 lating opposition : but by this opposition the feeling 
 of community is increased, and the general interest 
 in the subject heightened. Times of mental stir and 
 controversy of this kind have their own value in the 
 history of thought, and in some respects those are 
 to be envied who live in them, and are drawn to 
 others by the ties of mental brotherhood which 
 * communes inimicitise ' produce. But the contro- 
 versy of such times, while of value for the energy of 
 thought which it calls forth, and the sparks of un- 
 dying truth which are thus struck out, is injurious 
 to permanent truth on account of the wild miscon- 
 ception of what is said by opponents, the false issues, 
 and the little real meeting, consequently, of argu- 
 ment. It must be so : for if people studied the 
 works of their opponents more, they could rarely be 
 as singleminded in their allegiance to their own 
 school, and as loud and demonstrative in their at- 
 tachment to it, as they are wanted to be. 
 
 I seem to myself to trace in Mr Mill's papers 
 three veins of thought : something of a loyal and 
 traditionary attachment to a now waning school, 
 that, namely, which I have called ^the old utilitari- 
 anism,' (old, because things now get old soon) : some- 
 thing of a welcoming, but with hesitation, of a more 
 
INTRODUCTION. 1 1 
 
 rising school, the sentiments of which I have had 
 in my view in what I have said about 'positivism;' 
 and besides these, if I might so guess, the spirit of a 
 genuine philosopher distrusting considerably both of | 
 these, and extending much beyond them, but en- 
 deavouring to make the best of them, and importing 
 into them much that is alien to themselves. 
 
 Now, in a state of philosophy such as exists at 
 this time, it seems to me that there is another way 
 of studying it more useful than that which I have 
 described above ; it seems to me that it is more helpful 
 to the cause of truth that we should not make much 
 profession of belonging to one or another school, of 
 defending this school or that, when after all we shall 
 very likely be but half-hearted disciples. A time 
 like the present, when, as many at least think, phi- 
 losophy is rather dull and quiet, and those who care 
 about it are not numerous, is not a bad opportunity, 
 before some fresh school springs up with energetic 
 apostles, for dropping sectarian names for a while, in 
 order that we may be able the more quietly to study 
 the exact nature of the things which they represent. 
 And in the absence of such names, and in the com- 
 parative (controversial) stillness of the air, I think 
 people might more easily, if they would try, get an 
 insight and a view for themselves. There is less 
 dust about, less to blind the eyes. All matters of 
 moral science are matters as to which the best ex- 
 pression must very imperfectly represent what is in 
 the mind of the man who thinks about them, if his 
 thought is really valuable. Let us take advantage 
 then of the absence of temptation to overstatement 
 which is furnished by comparative absence of party 
 feeling, and we shall have one difficulty the less. 
 And my own notion is that in matters of real 
 thought, where the question is how far what we 
 
/ 
 
 1 2 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 imagine or think has really hold of us, and how deep 
 it lies within us, the more real our conviction and 
 the more earnestly we wish to convey it to the minds 
 of others, the more careful we shall be as to vehe- 
 mence of the expression of it^ lest it should be dis- 
 torted and falsified. Men s minds are different : but 
 to measure intensity of conviction by vehemence 
 of language is the idlest of errors, and one which, 
 if men want to see things for themselves, they must 
 speedily get rid of. 
 
 Criticism on books of moral science is constantly 
 some of the most really superficial criticism, on 
 account of the imperfect effort made by the critic, 
 in the manner which I have noticed, to understand 
 what he is criticizing. I wish that, in the more 
 quiet times of which I have spoken, the decline of 
 general interest could be balanced by a greater con- 
 scientiousness in this respect. I criticize Mr Mill 
 from a point of view of my own ; but I have done 
 my best, and that for the sake of my own mind, 
 to penetrate to his. My view of the doubtfulness 
 and difficulty of all these matters makes me only the 
 more value such inward view as one may be able 
 to get, however much or little one can communicate 
 it. In each case where I have criticized, I have 
 tried to give what seemed to me the right view 
 instead of the wrong. And I have written in this 
 way because I really think that, with a reader whose 
 interest is in the subject and who wants to form 
 his own opinion about it, the view of the thing as 
 thus set before him is what is most likely to suggest 
 to himself a train of thought which will result in a 
 clear inward perception, whether it is the same as 
 mine or whether it is different. 
 
 As I have had so much to controvert in Mr Mill, 
 I must end this Introduction with an expression of 
 
INTRODUCTION. 1 3 
 
 the obligation under which, in common I should 
 think with all who take interest in mental or moral 
 philosophy, I feel to him, for the manner in which 
 he has upheld the credit of studies of this kind in 
 what I suppose is to be considered an ungenial age. 
 He has set an example of conscientious thought, 
 and clear expression of what he means, which I 
 hope I may be able to follow. I have been more 
 diffuse than he is, a fault which, at least without 
 more pains than I thought worth while or desirable, 
 I could not avoid. If I have thereby lost in some 
 respects, as in interest, I hope there may be some 
 counterbalance. 
 
ta* i JL X ;J 
 
 CtlAPTER I. 
 
 WITH PRECEDING FORMS OF IT. 
 
 In the paper which follows his Introduction Mr Mill 
 describes what utilitarianism is, and meets various 
 objections which have been made against it. 
 
 The objections are to a great extent, in his view, 
 founded on misapprehension. 
 
 I will enumerate the objections \ They are 
 Objections I. That it is hostilo to whatever is pleasurable 
 
 to utilita- 1 , 1 o 
 
 and ornamentar. 
 
 nanism 
 
 MrMm!"^ 2. (From the opposite direction) that it is an 
 unworthy philosophy, taking account of little else 
 except pleasured 
 
 3. That it is a selfish philosophy, only teaching 
 care for our own happiness ^ 
 
 4. (From the opposite direction again) that it 
 is a chimerical philosophy, on account of the height 
 of its standard, teaching regard for the general hap- 
 piness in an impossible manner*. 
 
 5. That it is an unfeeling philosophy, making 
 people cold and unsympathizing. This objection is 
 allied to the first^ 
 
 6. That it is a godless philosophy I 
 
 7. That it is a philosophy of expediency, teach- 
 ing the immediately and apparently useful instead 
 
 1 See below, ch. xv. in which the same objections are considered at 
 greater length. 
 
 2 Mill's Utilitarianism^ p. 8. ' Ih, p. 24. ^ Ih. p. 25. 
 5 Ih. p. 28. 6 xj) p 30. 
 
OLD AND NEW UTILITARIANISM. 1 5 
 
 of the permanently and really useful : and teaching 
 mainly ' the useful to one's self/ This, as to the 
 latter part of it, falls in with the third ob- 
 jection \ 
 
 8, That it is a philosophy of calculation, re- 
 quiring that which is both impossible and undesir- 
 able, viz. that when we have got to act, we should 
 disregard feeling, and examine an infinite variety of 
 possible consequences*. 
 
 After this long string of counts in the indict- 
 ment against utilitarianism, which I have given I 
 think in Mr Mill's own order, follows a residuary 
 count, alluding to various possible objections, and 
 specifying one, namely, that on utilitarian principles 
 we are very likely to make o^r particular case an 
 exception to the rule we go on^. 
 
 What utilitarianism is, in Mr Mill's view, ap- in reality 
 pears in a double or, if we like, a treble form in this his system 
 paper : that is, he describes in his own words, and Jhem!^^^" 
 without reference to the supposed objections, what, 
 in principle, it is: but besides this, in meeting the 
 objections, which he does with qualification, he gives 
 us on the one hand a reassertion of old utilitarian 
 doctrines ; on the other, new (and professedly utili- 
 tarian) doctrines of his own. That he does this 
 latter he to a certain extent avows, to that extent 
 admitting the force of the objections made. The 
 object of this first chapter of mine is to show that 
 he really does it to a much greater extent than he 
 avows, and that his neo-utilitarianism, as I have 
 called it, is something very different from that to 
 which the objections were made. In other chapters 
 the reader will find a discussion of the principle of 
 utilitarianism as Mr Mill gives it, independent of 
 
 ^ Ih. p. 31. ^ lb. p. 33. ^ Ih. p. 36. 
 
1 6 OLD AND NEW UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 the objections, and an examination of the degree of 
 truth which there is in that. 
 
 The first objection against utilitarianism Mr Mill 
 considers to have arisen from a misunderstanding 
 of the term. Of this I shall speak further on. 
 
 The second objection lies against utilitarianism 
 in its character of descendant and representative of 
 Epicureanism, which character Mr Mill carefully 
 vindicates for it. He meets the objection, on behalf 
 both of Epicureanism and its representative, by en- 
 tirely changing his front, and introducing the notion 
 of the distinction between quality and quantity of 
 pleasured This, so far as it is any answer or has 
 any reference to the objection, is an admission of 
 its validity. 
 
 The third objection has again reference to utili- 
 tarianism as Epicureanism. This latter starts from 
 the assumed fact that we tender our own happiness, 
 and recommends us to tender that of others — on what 
 ground? On the ground given being good, sufficient, 
 and complete, depends immunity from this objection. 
 The first Epicurean problem is to build philanthropy, 
 the thing recommended, on the ground of self- 
 regard, the thing understood. What Mr Mill does 
 in reference to this objection is, to incorporate in 
 the bad philosophy, by which utilitarianism, while 
 vindicating to itself the apparent naturalness of 
 i \ ^ "^ ^ Epicureanism, endeavours nevertheless to difference ^ 
 Kv- ^"^ itself from Epicureanism, some new philosophy, 
 
 not utilitarian, of his own, which is exceedingly 
 good, and which in reality might have rendered 
 the other unnecessary. As in the former case he 
 added ' quality' to pleasure, so here he incorpo- 
 rates the whole doctrine of human sympathy andt. tT 
 sociality ^ 
 
 ^ lb. pp. lo — 16. 2 lb. pp. 25, 45. 
 
OLD AND NE\Y UTILITARIANISM. I 7 
 
 The other objections will to some extent come 
 under review as we proceed. I have dwelt here on 
 these two, because it is chiefly in reference to them 
 that I call attention in this chapter to the difference 
 between Mr Mill's utilitarianism and that which pre- 
 ceded it. 
 
 There is one further objection which has lain 
 against some of the forms of utilitarianism, and which 
 has had a good deal to do (more probably than it 
 ought) with determining the feeling about the whole. 
 I mean the objection to it as something revolution- 
 ary, and loosening the grounds of morals. This is 
 referred to by Mr MilP, but I have not enumerated it 
 above. 
 
 By the ^old utilitarianism' as spoken of in this Points in 
 chapter I mean the philosophy,' so far as it is one, of MJliguti. 
 which we may take Paley and Bentham as joint !;*5"^"^^™ 
 
 •/ ^ •^ *f dmersfrom 
 
 representatives. I mention them, because the con- tj'e old uti- 
 troversy which without doubt has suggested to Mr 
 Mill most of the objections he speaks of, has gene- 
 rally had the form of criticism of their works. Such 
 is the criticism of Sir James Mackintosh and Dr 
 Whewell on Bentham, and of Professor Sedgwick 
 and Dr Whewell on Paley. 
 
 I will first then call attention to a few points 
 in which Mr Mill's view of utilitarianism differs from 
 that which has been hitherto held : and next, to 
 a few points in which it agrees with what has usually 
 been considered as not being utilitarianism. 
 
 Mr Mill says with great truth' : 'Persons, even 
 of considerable endowments, often give themselves so 
 little trouble to understand the bearing of any doc- 
 trine against which they entertain a prejudice, and 
 men are in general so little conscious of this volun- 
 tary ignorance as a defect, that the vulgarest mis- 
 1 mil p. 38. 2 /ft. p. 30. 
 
1 8 OLD AND NEW UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 understandings of ethical doctrines are constantly 
 met with in the deliberate writings of persons of the 
 greatest pretensions both to high principle and to 
 philosophy.' 
 
 Utilitarians have sinned in this respect at least as 
 much as they have been sinned against. There are 
 other causes for the misrepresentation besides the 
 contemptuous inattention which Mr Mill speaks of; 
 such, for instance, as the fact that, moral discussion 
 having been frequently carried on in a very ad popu- 
 lum manner, moralists themselves are not unfre- 
 quently in the habit, for the purpose of producing an 
 effect, of stating their opinions in as startling a form 
 as they can, at the hazard of overstating them : Mr 
 Mill's present calmness of statement is unfortunately 
 not the usual tone of moral discussion. To under- 
 stand people's real or deliberate views is not there- 
 fore always very easy ; and it is made more difficult 
 by another fact, of which the present discussion seems 
 to me an illustration. The vulgar get blamed for 
 the unfixedness of language, but the wise are as 
 much to blame for it as they. If the reader at the 
 close of the present discussion will look back to the 
 vagueness of the term utilitarianismy and the indefi- 
 niteness of its application, he will pardon its oppo- 
 nents for misunderstanding it. 
 
 No person living has a better claim than Mr Mill 
 to be listened to when he censures the little pains 
 that moralists take to understand one another, be- 
 cause no person exerts himself apparently more, or 
 with better success, to make things clear than himself. 
 But his censure I think is not quite in place in this 
 paper: first because, as I trust we shall see, he is 
 really answering objections made against utilitari- 
 anism in one view by understanding it in another: 
 and next, because there is appearance that the change 
 
OLD AND NEW UTILITARIANISM. 1 9 
 
 of view is in some sense an actual result of the 
 objection, and is therefore to that extent an admission 
 of its validity. Thus Mr Mill refers to the manner 
 in which the followers of Epicurus were in early 
 times likened to swine, and to the fact that ' modern 
 holders of the doctrine are occasionally made the 
 subject of equally polite comparisons by its German, 
 French, and English assailants \' 
 
 Now when those whom, it is to be supposed, Mr i. He lays 
 Mill here refers to have been thus treated, it has th^qurnty, 
 commonly been in reference to a doctrine which they gui^he^^ 
 have taken pains to put forth with very ^rreat distinct- ^"^"^^ *^« 
 
 11-1 1 111 quantity, 
 
 ness, and which may be expressed thus: — that ^ plea- of pleasure, 
 sures differ from each other in nothing but intensity 
 and duration*/ A similar doctrine was a cardinal 
 
 ^ p. 10. 
 
 * ' In which inquiry (the inquiry wliat human happiness consists in) I 
 will omit much usual declamation on the dignity and capacity of our 
 nature ; the superiority of the soul to the body, of the rational to the 
 animal part of our constitution : upon the worthiness, refinement and 
 delicacy, of some satisfactions, or the meanness, grossness and sensuality 
 of others : because I hold that pleasures differ in notliing but in continu- 
 ance and intensity : from a just computation of which, confirmed by what 
 we observe of the apparent cheerfulness, tranquillity, and contentment, of 
 men of different tastes, tempers, stations, and pursuits, every question 
 concerning human happiness must receive its decision.' Paley, Moral and 
 Pol. Phil. B. L ch. 6. I am afraid Mr Mill's papers would have come, 
 with the older utilitarians, under the head of ' declamation.' The ' com- 
 putation' here spoken of by Paley is treated of more systematically by 
 Bentham in ch. 4 of the ' Principles 0/ Morals and Legislatioti,'' the title 
 of which is, ' Value of a lot of pleasure and pain, how to be measured.' 
 Bentham gives there the ' elements or dimensions of value' of a pleasure 
 or pain, which he describes as six in number, 'its intensity, its duration, 
 its certainty, its propinquity, its fecundity, its purity ' (the latter term 
 signifying its freedom from admixture of elements of an opposite cha- 
 racter, as of pain with pleasure, and vice versa). There is added for 
 certain purposes another dimension, viz. ' extent.' These, then, are the 
 elements of value of pleasures in Bentham's view, all of them readily 
 lending themselves to calculation or estimation, and the essence of utili- 
 tarianism being, in his view, that they did so. Then, and not till then, 
 after the consideration of the relative value of pleasures, comes the 
 chapter ' On pleasures and pains, their kinds.' Bentham well under- 
 stood that the recognition of kind, or qualify of pleasure, as an element 
 
 2—2 
 
20 OliB AND NEW UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 point of Bentham's system : without it any attempt 
 at analysis of pleasure such as he makes would be in 
 the idea of it absard. Mr Mill has no logical right 
 to say on the one side that this charge is not valid 
 against the system which he defends, and on the 
 other to correct the system just in the particular 
 point which the charge touches ; yet this is what in 
 fact he does when he makes the value of pleasures to 
 depend on their quality as well as on their quantity. 
 He appears to refer, in his censure, to language like 
 that used by Dr Whewell of Paley*, at the same 
 time that he in fact adopts the very correction 
 which the language he censures suggests, admits that 
 pleasures ought to be considered (in so far as we 
 estimate them for the purpose of guiding action) 
 as varying in kind as well as in intensity and 
 duration, and proposes this noio as a part of utili- 
 tarianism. 
 
 of value, would have entirely destroyed the use of his scheme of mea- 
 surement or estimation. Kind or quality of pleasure, is, on the Ben- 
 thamic or old utilitarian scheme, not at all ignored ; rather, a great deal 
 of notice is taken of it: but, in judging whether one or another pleasure 
 is to be the motive of action, it is not, according to that scheme, the kind 
 of pleasure which is to be taken account of, but the comparative value of 
 the one and the other pleasure estimated in the elements or dimensions 
 which Bentham has given. The kind or genus may be a guide to this, 
 but must be subsidiary to it. One kind of pleasure may be, syste- 
 matically, to be preferred to another, but it must be because the plea- 
 sures classified under it generally exceed those under the other in 
 intensity, or some other of the elements of value. The estimation of 
 pleasures by their kind or quality, independent of these elements of 
 value, is, so far as I can understand, exactly what Bentham wanted to 
 prevent. The unanalyzed comparative experience of people, which 
 Mr Mill brings forward as the proper guide, is exactly the thing which 
 Bentham distrusted and disliked, and against which his system of 
 analysis and measurement of pleasures was mainly directed, in so far as 
 we estimate them for the purpose of guiding action. The reader will 
 observe that in the above enumerati^m it is only 'intensity' and 'dura- 
 tion ' which can with much propriety be called ' dimensions,' the other 
 elements being of a more circumstantial character. 
 
 ■* See p. xl. of Dr Whewell's Preface to Mackintosh's Dissertation on 
 Ethical Philosophy (3rd Edit.). 
 
the 
 e 
 
 ri < 
 morality. 
 
 OLD AND NEW UTILITARIANISM. 21 
 
 This therefore is one point in which Mr Mill's 
 utilitarianism differs from that which has preceded 
 him, and against which the objections which he notices 
 have been directed. 
 
 Two other such points are the following: — Mr 2. He 
 Mill speaks ' of the existence, as to morality, of 'a basis social 
 of powerful natural sentiment' in language which Stlmfte 
 would surely have been quite disclaimed by those s^n'^tio.i of 
 utilitarians whose cause he professes to defend, and 
 which might indeed be borrowed from that doctrine, 
 hostile to utilitarianism, to which he has given the 
 name of * intuitivism-.' 'The deeply rooted con- 
 ception which each individual even now has of 
 himself as a social being, tends to make him feel it 
 one of his natural w^ants that there should be har- 
 mony between his feelings and aims and those of his 
 fellow-creatures .... This feeling in most individuals 
 is much inferior in strength to their selfish feelings, 
 and is often wanting altogether. But to those who 
 have it, it possesses all the characters of a natural 
 feeling. It does not present itself to their minds as a 
 superstition of education, or a law despotically im- 
 posed by the power of society, but as an attribute 
 which it would not be well for them to be wdthout. 
 This conviction is the ultimate sanction of the greatest 
 happiness morality ^^ Nothing can be more opposite 
 to this than the language of Paley and Bentham. 
 Paley's view, as to the existence of such feelings as 
 Mr Mill here describes, is, 'either that there exist no 
 such instincts as compose w^hat is called the moral 
 sense, or that they are not now to be distinguished 
 from prejudices and habits*;' and as to their being 
 'the ultimate sanction of morality,' 'that we can be 
 
 ' P- 45- ^ PP- 3, 4- ' P- 49. 
 
 * Mor. and Pol. Ph, B. i. cb. 5. 
 
2 2 OLD AND NEW UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 obliged to nothing but what we are to gain or lose 
 something by*.' Bentham enumerates four sanctions 
 of the 'greatest happiness morality;' and though he 
 afterwards, it appears, discovered some more, this of 
 Mr Mill's was not one; they are, the moral or popu- 
 lar sanction (nearly equivalent to the force of public 
 opinion), the physical, the political, and the religious 
 sanctions f. Bentham duly notices, amongst other 
 feelings and motives, those of sympathy and good 
 will if: but to call them 'the ultimate sanction of 
 morality' seems to me just what he meant to con- 
 demn when he placed among principles adverse to 
 that of utility * the principle of sympathy and anti- 
 pathy, which approves and disapproves merely be- 
 cause a man feels himself disposed to do so, and holds 
 up that approbation as a sufficient reason for action 
 in itself §.' 
 3. He ai- Again, the suspicion entertained some time since 
 wdght to against what was called utilitarianism had its origin 
 moraiity^^ in the claim on the part of some forms of that utili- 
 tarianism, to regenerate morality by the introduction 
 of a principle new or hitherto much neglected. Ben- 
 tham, whom for his earnest philanthropy moralists of 
 all schools have reason to honour, offered himself, not 
 consciously but really, as a sort of ethical Bacon. 
 Mr Mill's language is very different^ 'During all 
 that time' (the whole past duration of the human 
 race) 'mankind have been learning by experience the 
 
 tendencies of actions On any hypothesis short of 
 
 universal idiocy, mankind must by this time have 
 acquired positive beliefs as to the effects of some 
 actions on their happiness : and the beliefs which have 
 
 * Mor. and Pol. Ph. B. 11. ch. 2. 
 t Principles of Morals and Legislation, ch. 3. 
 :|: Ih. ch. 10. § Ih. ch. 2. 
 
 ' P- 33- 
 
OLD AND NEW UTILITARIANISM. 23 
 
 thus come down are the rules of morality for the mul- 
 titude, and for the philosopher, until he has succeeded 
 in finding something better. That philosophers might 
 easily do this, even now, on many subjects: that the 
 received code of ethics is by no means of divine right: 
 and that mankind have still much to learn as to the 
 effects of actions on the general happiness, I admit, 
 or rather, earnestly maintain/ 
 
 The utilitarian view which made people suspicious 
 was that mankind had almost everything to learn in 
 this respect, and that as a ^temporis partus maximus' 
 there was born a philosophy which would immediately 
 teach what had been till then unknown. So far 
 as we allow, in testimony of what is useful and good, 
 the past experience and practice of mankind, we 
 make a morality which, whatever its merits, is 
 historical rather than distinctively rational, a moral- 
 ity which it was the main purpose of Bentham's 
 life to cause people to distrust. If utilitarianism has 
 not taught us something new about these moral 
 rules derived from tradition and experience, and 
 made us look on them differently from what we did 
 before, what has it done, and why has it given itself 
 a special name? Does the term 'utilitarian' denote 
 something which people have always been, or some- 
 thing which some have lately begun to be ? ~^^The 
 Benthamic utilitarianism seems simple, as requiring 
 that people should be prepared, in regard of any 
 action which they recommend as moral (to themselves 
 or others), to give a distinct reason for it by showings 
 that the pleasures likely to result from it are greatet S 
 than the pains, putting into account on the side of 
 pleasure (if the case is one to allow of it) any additioi^ { 
 which may be made to human pleasure by the ex4 f 
 istence of a general and un transgressed rule on the! :■ 
 subject. This Benthamic utilitarianism, on the face 
 
nans. 
 
 24 OLD AND NEW UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 of it, and previous to practice, is quite distinct: 
 it is looked on with favour by some for the very 
 reason for which it is looked on with disfavour by 
 others, namely, because it seems so business-like: 
 'laudatur ab his, culpatur ab illis/ If it is to re- 
 solve itself into nothing more than that we are to 
 consider that Hhe received code of ethics is not of 
 divine right,' that in fact we are not to let our moral 
 judgment sleep in reliance on custom and tradition, 
 but to keep it always vigorous and awake, it certainly 
 deserves no blame; but I scarcely see what there 
 was, or is, in it to support, or who will oppose it. 
 Mr Mill's So much for Mr Mill's w^ant of resemblance to 
 tionto noil- the utilitarians whom he takes under his defence: 
 utihta- j^-g reseniblance to those who are not utilitarians, or 
 at least would not generally be called so, has perhaps 
 already suggested itself to the reader; and therefore 
 less need be said upon it. 
 
 Though Mr Mill appears, as we have already seen, 
 to identify his cause with that of the Epicureans, he 
 yet, in one most important feature of that complicated 
 school, sympathizes with the Stoics. The cardinal 
 doctrine of man's sociality being a fundamental in- 
 gredient of his nature, which, though involved more 
 or less in all moral systems,, was yet perhaps brought 
 out (theoretically) the least by the Epicurean theory, 
 and by the Stoic the most, finds in him a most elo- 
 quent expounder. Neither Cicero, nor Grotius, nor 
 any of the moralists whom utilitarianism, as it has 
 hitherto been understood, would most despise, could 
 express the basis of morality better in this view than 
 Mr Mill has done in the beautiful passage, too long 
 to quote, which occurs in page 45, beginning, ^Tlie 
 social state is at once so natural, so necessary, and so 
 habitual to man, that, except in some unusual circum- 
 stances, he never conceives himself otherwise than as 
 
OLD AND NEW UTILITARIANISM. 25 
 
 a member of a body/ and going on then to show how 
 men come to ^propose to themselves a collective, not 
 an individual, interest as the aim of their actions/ 
 Whatever polemical value Mr Mill's papers may have, 
 they contain passages of permanent moral value to 
 people of all schools, which his supposed opponents 
 might accept as conveying their sentiments better 
 perhaps than they could do themselves. 
 
 There is no reason however to dwell longer on 
 Mr Mill's difference from the older utilitarians and 
 his approximation to non-utilitarians, more especially 
 since other features of these will perhaps appear in 
 what follows. Mr Mill's papers are for the double 
 purpose of exhibiting utilitarianism as he under- 
 stands it, and of answering objections which have 
 been made against it. To show therefore that Mr 
 Mill's utilitarianism is not the form of utilitarianism 
 against which in general the objections have been 
 made, is important in reference to the subject. Mr 
 Mill has a better right than any one to say what 
 the word ^utilitarianism' shall be taken to apply to, 
 since it appears he was the first to give it its philoso- 
 phical application. If it is to mean what he would 
 now have it mean, much of the old charge against 
 it disappears. But if he allows the meaning of the 
 term as it was understood both by friends and 
 enemies when the charges he censures were made 
 against it, then what he now proposes must be con- 
 sidered a kind of neo-utilitarianism which may be 
 in some measure sympathized with and accepted 
 even by those who think that the old charges were 
 deserved. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 WHAT DOES HAPPINESS CONSIST IN J 
 
 Is there such a thing as happiness ? Is it attain- 
 able, and is it describable, so as to lend itself to be 
 an object of action, such as utilitarianism would 
 make it ? And what is the bearing of these 
 questions on the question whether utilitarianism is or 
 is not the right moral philosophy ? 
 
 These are the general questions which are par- 
 tially touched on, so far as Mr Mill's papers suggest 
 them, in this chapter. 
 utiiitari- The utilitarian stands firm on the ground of 
 
 moniy'hoid positivism, oi what is, so far as that will carry him. 
 n^ts i's^^^^ Happiness, whether we mean by it welfare or 
 easily de- pleasuro, is a real thinof, which we do desire for 
 
 scribable a ' o' 
 
 and attain- oursclves, and more or less for others also : it is to a 
 ^ ^' certain extent attainable, and to a certain extent 
 describable. To how great an extent ? 
 
 In reality this question does not belong to utili- 
 tarianism more than to any other philosophy. The 
 important question about a system of philosophy is 
 not whether it is (apparently) easy and simple, but 
 whether it is true. Happiness might be an exceed- 
 ingly difficult thing both to describe and to attain, 
 and yet utilitarianism be true, if in other ways we 
 were led to consider so. Human nature and life are 
 
WHAT DOES HAPPINESS CONSIST IN 1 27 
 
 large things, and I do not see why we should really 
 presume beforehand that moral philosophy would be 
 easy. But utilitarians have been much in the habit 
 of recommending their philosophy on the ground of 
 its easiness. Hence the common effort on their 
 part to show that happiness is easily describable, and 
 easily attainable. 
 
 Taking Bentham and Paley as representatives of 
 the old utilitarianism, the former had the mind of a 
 legislator, the latter of a man of prudential good 
 sense. The former looked at the manner in which 
 happiness could be best provided for by institutions, 
 the latter showed how life could be best lived with 
 a view to it. 
 
 In view of legislation, what is to be considered 
 'the desirable' or happiness must be to some extent 
 agreed upon and described, and Bentham did good 
 service by his attempt to do this systematically. 
 And prudential rules for the conduct of life, such as 
 Paley has given, and Mr Mill in these papers, are 
 the oldest part of moral philosophy. 
 
 Against utilitarianism it has been argued, that it This view 
 cannot furnish a proper rule of human conduct on ^Jithln T^^ 
 account of the imperfect manner in which, after all, i^i^j^e^. 
 
 . ^ iii'i and unim- 
 
 happiness can be understood and described. This portant 
 argument does not disprove utilitarianism, for it is "" * 
 open to the utilitarian to say that no more proper 
 rule is furnished by any other philosophy, and that 
 it is not his business to show that a rule proper 
 to the degree which the argument supposes, exists at 
 all : but it meets any claims which the utilitarian 
 may make, not on the ground of his rule being the 
 right, or the only, or the best, rule, but on the 
 ground of its being a satisfactory one. And the ar- 
 gument is valid, from various considerations about 
 happiness, such as the following. 
 
28 WHAT DOES HAPPINESS CONSIST IN ? 
 
 1. Happiness is very different for different 
 people. 
 
 2. We as yet^ at least, know very little how far 
 a man, by the power of his own will and imagination 
 on his thoughts and feelings, can make his own hap- 
 piness under any circumstances. 
 
 3. Nor how far, under any circumstances again, 
 his constitution and temper may have settled the 
 question of happiness or unhappiness for him. 
 
 4. We have no means of deciding whether we 
 shall best spend our efforts in trying to be happy un- 
 der existing circumstances, or in trying to improve 
 the circumstances: 
 
 5. Nor of deciding, if there are different quali- 
 ties or heights of happiness, whether we had best 
 rest in the lower quality or strive to attain to the 
 higher. 
 
 I might go on with many more difficulties like 
 these, and I have called utilitarianism, in what fol- 
 lows, superficial, because instead of facing the real 
 questions, it rests so much on mere prudentialisms. 
 Of the above, the first difficulty is the most salient ; 
 and is so great, that it furnishes a ready retort 
 against the utilitarian who urges against other moral 
 theories, as, for instance, those which dwell much on 
 duty, the uncertainty of the rules which they give. 
 There are wants of our animal nature the satisfaction 
 of which is happiness in the view of the economist : 
 but human life developes wants and feelings much 
 beyond all this, and here it is as hard to find univer- 
 sally accepted pleasures as it is to find universally 
 accepted notions of duty. 
 
 It is a commonplace that happiness is not the 
 same thing for every one in such a sense that it can 
 be, in any detail, particularized and described. Uti- 
 litarians have the voice of mankind and of literature 
 
WHAT DOES HAPPINESS CONSIST IN ? 29 
 
 loith them when they say that all action is, naturally, 
 aimed at happiness, but against them when they go 
 on from this to say that we may lay down on paper 
 what happiness is, and so have an easy or ready way 
 of directing our action, and that in the best manner. 
 
 A positivism thoroughly carried out would recog- it is at 
 nize in the utilitarian notion of happiness one of the with a 
 unreal ideas, whether metaphysical, imaginative, orp^g?^?^fg^ 
 of whatever kind, which are to be discarded. Such 
 an extreme positivism brings us in many respects to 
 the same point to which a thorough idealism would. 
 Utilitarianism and other partial moral systems pre- 
 sent to us a partial view of life, and say. Live ac- 
 cording to an ideal of life, but one which goes thus 
 far only. The positivism which I have spoken of 
 would say. Live, taking life itself in all its fulness 
 as your guide, and beware that you do not let the 
 singleness and simplicity of your view be altered 
 by an ideal, which after all is not life itself, but only 
 something of your own construction. Such thorough 
 positivism quarrels with idealism more on the ground 
 of the necessary imperfection and incompleteness of 
 it than on any other. It says, There can be no true 
 and complete ideal of life but such as we unconscious- 
 ly form in living. As against partial idealisms, this 
 is thoroughly true. And as against idealism of any 
 kind, in so far as this is necessarily in some degree 
 partial, it is worthy to be borne in mind. 
 
 The two passages in which Mr Mill seems to state Mr Mill's 
 most distinctly the utilitarian theory without reference jAhe^uti^. 
 to objections are in pp. 9, 10, 17. 'The creed,' it isJ^^^j*" 
 said in the former of these passages, ' which accepts / 
 as the foundation of morals, utility, holds that actions 
 are right in proportion as they tend to produce 
 happiness, wrong as they tend to produce the reverse 
 of happiness. By happiness is intended pleasure,! 
 
30 WHAT DOES HAPPINESS CONSIST IN ? 
 
 and the absence of pain : by unhappiness, pain, and 
 the privation of pleasure.' 
 
 The utilitarian theory of life is, 'that pleasure 
 and freedom from pain are the only things desirable 
 as ends : and that all desirable things (which are as 
 numerous in the utilitarian as in any other scheme) 
 \ are desirable either for the pleasure inherent in them- 
 j selves, or as means to the promotion of pleasure and 
 I the prevention of pain.' 
 
 The utilitarian reXos, or the ultimate end of life, 
 is described by Mr Mill in the second passage which 
 I have referred to: calling it roughly happiness, it 
 gives, in Mr Mill's view, the standard of morality ; 
 which (standard) 'may accordingly be defined, the 
 rules and precepts for human conduct, by the obser- 
 vance of which an existence such as has been de- 
 scribed might be, to the greatest extent possible, se- 
 cured to all mankind; and not to them only, but, so 
 far as the nature of things admits, to the whole sen- 
 tient creation.' 
 All sys- Now from the beginning of moral philosophy to 
 
 morality the prcscut day, whenever the question of an action 
 countTf being right or wrong has been considered as depend- 
 actions^ °^ ing upon the end to which it conduced, that end has 
 and may so boou of uocessity such as might be described as some 
 sidered kind of happiuoss of somebody. Nothing is acted 
 utilitarian. £^^ excopt as in some way desirable. And since the 
 very notion of reasonable action is that it is for a 
 purpose, no system of morality could entirely neglect 
 to take account of the purpose or end of actions. 
 And so far as it does this, it determines morality by 
 the consideration of conduciveness to happiness : or 
 is so far what Mr Mill would call utilitarian. 
 
 It is evident however that we are advanced but 
 a little way towards answering the questions of mo- 
 rality when we have got only to this : and there are 
 
WHAT DOES HAPPINESS CONSIST IN? 3I 
 
 some particulars of the complicated feelings of man- 
 kind in relation to morality, which this consideration 
 of the conduciveness of actions to an end does not 
 seem likely to be able to account for. 
 
 The specific differences of Mr Mill's utilitarianism Thespecific 
 
 I'll 1 1 • ^ r- dmerences 
 
 as above described, among other systems which refer of utiiitari- 
 action to an end, seem to be that by happiness he descrii)rd 
 would understand pleasure and absence of pain, de- ^y^-^^^^"' 
 scribing the circumstances of these with reference identifies 
 to actual human life : and again, that he would with piea- 
 make this conduciveness to an end (namely, pleasure Ses con- 
 as thus understood) the sole test of riofhtness. dudveness 
 
 , ^ to pleasure 
 
 If we are to suppose happiness and pleasure to be the sole 
 different notions, so that the saying that happiness con- Tightness, 
 sists in pleasure is any explanation of the former, we 
 must mean by pleasure not merely well-being, or any 
 indefinite idea of that kind, but something of which 
 we have distinct consciousness and experience. And 
 so Mr Mill, in clear and in fact beautiful language, 
 explains he does mean. It is here that there comes 
 in the difference between Mr Mill's utilitarianism and 
 other moral systems which may attribute no less- 
 importance to the conduciveness of actions to happi- 
 ness. Let Mr Mill, if he will, make the great scheme 
 of morality utilitarian, in this sense, that he supposes 
 the happiness of whatever can feel happiness to be 
 the proper object of all the action which can go on in 
 the universe'; and as we know that the action of 
 God is directed to this purpose, let us consider that 
 the rightness or valuableness of human action is only 
 another word for the conformity of it also to this 
 same purpose. But the knowledge how we are to 
 act in the complicated relations of human life cannot 
 be gained by a summary transference of this leading 
 idea to another region of thought, and understanding 
 
 1 Util. p. 31. 
 
32 WHAT DOES HAPPINESS CONSIST IN ? 
 
 by happiness simply recognized or experienced plea- 
 sure : even supposing we were certain that no accom- 
 panying ideas, besides that of the universal end to 
 be attained, were needed. 
 Happiness I hope T may be able to avoid, in controverting 
 buTalub- ^^ ^^il^» a^y disposition to value less than he does 
 subecrfor ^^^^^ happinoss, or even human pleasure, and the 
 study. action which is conducive to it. I recognize fully 
 the worth, not only of his utilitarianism, but of the 
 older and inferior, as aiding the study, than which 
 nothing can be more important, of the manner in 
 which human happiness may be promoted. I do not 
 very much believe in a science of human happiness, 
 for reasons which we may perhaps see presently ; but 
 we all might be made much wiser in regard to our- 
 selves, and much les» helpless and more serviceable 
 in respect of others, by intelligent thought as to 
 what happiness is : and if utilitarianism furnishes us 
 with this, we may afford to pardon it some theo- 
 retical error. But it appears to me that the attempt 
 of utilitarianism, as it shows itself in these papers, to 
 make itself at once into the whole of morality, and 
 to proclaim that, as to action, there is nothing worthy 
 of human thought but happiness, will hinder rather 
 and injure the good work which in a restricted 
 sphere it might do, namely, making us better under- 
 stand what man's happiness really is. 
 Theciiief The difficulty of utilitarianism in regard of its 
 toiheutiii- claims exclusively to determine action, arises not so 
 tw^ much from the supposition of the unattainahleness of 
 arises from happincss, which is what Mr Mill in the main sets 
 
 the diffi- L L ^ 
 
 cuity of himself to controvert (for few would doubt but that, 
 mining whethor attainable or not, it is a thing worth striv- 
 whathap- -j^p, after), as from the difficulty of determininsr, after 
 
 piness con- o /' •/ ^ . 
 
 sists in, we have passed the narrow limits of food and rai- 
 paringTh^ ment, of health, peace, and competence, what, for 
 
WHAT DOES HAPPINESS CONSIST IN ? 33 
 
 different people, it consists in, and of comparing the iiappiness 
 supposed happiness of one person with that of ano- son 'with^^^ 
 ther. The question is not, Have we a clear enough othen^ ^"^ 
 view of what it is, to stimulate our own action so far 
 as we want such stimulus, and to guide our benevo- 
 lence ; but, Have we a clear enough view of it to be 
 able to balance and calculate the different ingredients 
 of it, the different pleasures, as Bentham did, or in 
 any similar way, so that our reason may be able to - 
 determine the desirableness of actions in this way to 
 the exclusion of all others? 
 
 Perhaps we shall be able to form a presump- niustration/ 
 tion as to the probability of mankind being agreed JjjjJ^g^^.^ - 
 in regard of the happiness to be aimed at, by see- description 
 ing how far we agree with Mr Mill's own view ofness, one 
 happiness as expressed in these papers. One passage Such^is 
 in which he describes it is the following: 'The hap- *^f ^^'^^^^ : 
 piness which they' (some philosophers) 'meant was ^^p^^Y^*' 
 not a life of rapture, but moments of such, in an ex- life:' Jy 
 istence made up of few and transitory pains, many and , 
 various pleasures, with a decided predominance of the { 
 active over the passive, and having as the foundation | 
 of the whole, not to expect more from life than it is 
 capable of bestowing. A life thus composed... has^ 
 always appeared worthy of the name of happiness'.' ' 
 
 Let us take any feature of this picture, as for in- a maxim 
 stance the last: 'not to expect more from life than as"cor"e J- 
 it is capable of bestowing.' (How, by the way, are ^'JJ^^, °^j.. 
 we to know how much it is capable of bestowing?) exaggera- 
 This is supposedly a point of happiness. I will not 
 say it is not, but I am not very clear about it, if we 
 are to look at life as we really think and talk about 
 it, and not in that rather conventional way which 
 we may perhaps call the moralistic*, and which is 
 
 ^ Util p. 18. 
 * Perhaps the best way in which I can obviate misapprehension as to 
 
 3 
 
34 WHAT DOES HAPPINESS CONSIST IN ? 
 
 used for exemplar stories and for advice to others, 
 in which strong elements are evaporated, and strong 
 features toned down. I can hardly think Nature 
 
 what I mean by this term, is to mention what a view of happiness like 
 that given in Paley suggests to me. It is very valuable and useful, on 
 the supposition that we understand it simply as a corrective, and are 
 sure (as we may be sure) that it will not be attended to more than in a 
 certain, and that a limited, degree. Just as the advice of parents to 
 their children is given with the feeling, on the part of the parent, that 
 there is sure to be enough in the child of strong passion, hopefulness, 
 enterprize, and other elements of this kind, which he only fears lest there 
 should be too much of, but the absence of which, though they make no 
 part of his advice, he understands would be quite as great a calamity 
 as disregard of his advice. Mr Mill's prescription for happiness, not 
 to expect too much from life, is of this character. Considering the 
 exceeding likelihood that we shall form utterly unreasonable expecta- 
 tions, the advice, in this point of view, is most sensible. But if Mr 
 Mill's view were, not simply to correct and restrain a temper of mind 
 which he knows is sure to exist in spite of all that may be said against 
 it, but to describe the temper which he thinks should be, I would take, 
 for happiness, what seems to me to be the side of nature against him. 
 And so as to Paley : if his description of what will make us happy is 
 intended as a portrait of a happy life, without the supposition of there 
 existing besides a mass of strong emotion, impulse, imagination, and 
 other such elements, of which what he gives is really only a chastening 
 or correction, I must say that in my view, setting aside (as he too must 
 set aside) casualty and misfortune, human life as it exists is not only 
 better but happier than he would make it. 
 
 If wo are to think of a happiness greater and better than nature 
 provides for ns already, the soberer elements of it correcting, but not 
 supplanting the more energetic, let us take a better and worthier ideal 
 than that of Paley ; an ideal really worth striving after. Of this the 
 reader will find more in the sequel. 
 
 By the 'moralistic' view of life, in a sense slightly depreciatory, I 
 mean such a view of it as is taken by Juvenal in the tenth Satire, and by 
 Johnson in his imitation of it, " The Vanity of Human Wishes." When 
 that which is very well as simple correction is carried out into a real 
 criticism of human life with its enterprize and its action, I can only say 
 that the philosophic view seems to me both less true, and lower, than 
 the vulgar. 
 
 Johnson's view as to what we should expect from life may appear 
 from such lines as 
 
 Condemn'd to hope's delusive mine 
 As on we toil from day to day, 
 
 and similar ones. Johnson was the opposite of a superficial and com- 
 monplace man, and was led to views of this kind partly by his century, 
 and partly by his temperament. 
 
WHAT DOES HAPPINESS CONSIST IN ? 35 
 
 was wrong in filling us, as she does, especially in 
 earlier days, with hope and unlimited expectation, 
 even though perhaps much of bitter disappointment 
 should follow. At least we cannot accept it as a 
 general fact of human nature that this absence of 
 hopefulness, this want of sanguineness, is a feature 
 of happiness : and the same I think of the other 
 features assigned by Mr Mill, as for instance variety 
 of pleasures: can we hope then for much general 
 agreement in the future? 
 
 So far as the maxim that we should not expect and incon- ^ 
 too much from life, goes m company with the re- with the \ 
 ligious idea of another life to which we may transfer previously 
 our expectations, it is well; but so far as it stands J^^J^^^®' 
 independent of this, both it and the theory of life to pi^ess and 
 which it belongs are surely questionable. Mr Mill meat. 
 has wisely pointed out the difference between hap- 
 piness and content, but he scarcely seems, in his own 
 view of life, sufficiently to bear it in mind. After 
 saying 'It is better to be Socrates dissatisfied than 
 a fool satisfied',' it is not consistent to write, as he 
 does in a subsequent page, as if a happy life and a 
 satisfied one were the same*. The fact is, that Mr [\ 
 Mill's notion of the difference in quality between one ■ 
 sort of happiness and another is difficult to reconcile, 
 not only with the utilitarian theory to which he ap- 
 plies it, but with any idea of happiness being at all / 
 readily attainable and consisting, to any important 
 degree, in satisfaction. Are we, or are we not, to 
 try to make our happiness and pleasures of the high- 
 est quality of which our nature is capable ? And if 
 we admit this idea of highest quality, have we not 
 got, not only an idea not belonging to utilitarianism, 
 but also a very disturbing idea? Is life to be an 
 
 1 mu. p. 14. 
 
 * lb. p. 19. ' The main constituents of a satisfied life appear to be two,' &c. 
 
 3—2 
 
36 WHAT DOES HAPPINESS CONSIST IN ? 
 
 effort after the higher happiness, or a satisfaction in 
 the nearer and lower ; a well-adjusted balancing, as 
 Mr Mill describes it, of tranquillity and excitement? 
 ~ In reality, Mr Mill upon his utilitarian principles, 
 in spite of his saying that happiness is not content- 
 ment, or the merely being satisfied, is obliged to 
 come to what amounts to saying that it is, having 
 no choice except to do this or to put it in the 
 other Epicurean idea of indulgence. It is thus 
 that utilitarianism, by making a general theory of 
 human life and human happiness of too immediate 
 importance to morals, is likely not to be of use in 
 furthering our knowledge what that serious and com- 
 \ plicated thing, human life, is. Utilitarians must have 
 \ general rules of human happiness for their system, 
 \ and they can hardly help assuming as such what 
 \ are at best most imperfectly made out to be so, 
 \ rules, for instance, which would make happiness for 
 V one person, but not for another. Mr Mill's remarks 
 upon human happiness in the papers before us are 
 full of interest, and full of true feeling and happy 
 expression, as regards the particular points touched, 
 but I think it will be considered, on examination, 
 that the theory they involve is superficial. It is very 
 well, as practical advice, to tell us that happiness 
 consists in mental cultivation, in working so much 
 and allowing ourselves just so much excitement as 
 will render rest pleasant, and resting no longer than 
 till we get an appetite for excitement again ^ : but the 
 springs of human happiness and unhappiness lie 
 deeper than all this, and Mr Mill goes surely nearer 
 to touching them in his incidental remarks which 
 have no dependence on utilitarianism, (such as those 
 on egotism') than he does in his theory. 
 
 ^ lb, p. 19, 20. 2 7^ p 20. 
 
WHAT DOES HAPPINESS CONSIST IN ? 37 
 
 I do not think that moral philosophy can be of Danger to 
 the use of which it should be, unless it struggles, at Tai phibso- 
 least, to cope with the greatness and complexity of ^J^fJ^^j^ 
 the problem which there is before it, and to face the ^^^^V^ ^^ 
 difficulty of the variableness and vastness of the na- is liable, of 
 ture of man. Whether it ever can do much in this hasty^and 
 way, I do not say : but at least the most important vfew^of 
 thing it can do is to try. With all its failings hither- ^^^^^^ na- 
 to, whatever they may have been, of laying its foun- 
 dations here and there in different places, so as to 
 make everything perhaps doubtful in it and much 
 necessarily wrong, there is one failing at least as great 
 as any, namely the way in which, led by its various 
 hypotheses, it has taken views of human nature ma- 
 nifestly partial and incomplete even to the eyes of 
 those who are no philosophers, if only they think a 
 moment. When people feel, as they must, the va- 
 riety of thought and feeling even in their own minds, 
 multiplied infinitely in the society of men around 
 them, they must wonder, one would think, what mo- 
 ral philosophy can be for, when they read its hasty 
 hypotheses and summary generalizations; as, that 
 they really do everything by deliberate selfishness, 
 that all ideas of honour are something fantastic and ~~\ 
 absurd, or whatever else it may be. The moral phi- 
 losopher must to some extent make himself the mea- 
 sure of human nature : the more real-minded he is, 
 and the less he is the mere echo of others, the more 
 is there danger of his failing to take account of moral 
 facts as to human nature, which his own disposition 
 does not lead him to enter into: and when to the 
 promptings of individuality there are added the exi- 
 gencies of theory, portraits of human nature (for such 
 every moral philosophy must be) arise, which are 
 most unsatisfactory and incomplete. 
 
 Utilitarianism I think does not help at all that 
 
38 WHAT DOES HAPPINESS CONSIST IN ? 
 
 most important object, in regard of moral philosophy, 
 the widening its range and view. Obliged by its 
 principles to assume a definiteness or describabihty 
 as to happiness, which, in my notion, does not exist, 
 utilitarianism can hardly help being hasty and pre- 
 mature in fixing what happiness is, and calling that 
 happiness, which, if we are to have the idea, really 
 seelns not worthy of the name. I only, in this re- 
 spect, demur to the claims of utilitarianism when 
 compared with what it does: I welcome what it does, 
 but cannot think that it is much, that it is much bet- 
 ter than what has been done by other systems before 
 it, or that it promises much in the future. 
 Theutiii- To return to Mr MilFs description of happiness: 
 
 axiom, if it the sauio thiDg, it seems to me, is to be said of this, 
 any si^'nl ^hich is to bo Said of that of Paley* and perhaps of 
 
 * Paley, B. i. cli. 6, describes happiness as 7iot consisting in (1) self- 
 indulgence, (2) idleness, (3) greatness; and as consisting in (1) sociality, 
 (2) occupation, (3) what we may call moderation, (4) health. If his 
 account had been given in perfect good faith, I do not see why he should 
 not have added competent livelihood or fortune, for that is not more a 
 matter out of our own power than health is, and in the importance of 
 it for happiness Aristotle and an English tradesman would alike agree. ' 
 But Paley wished to establish that happiness is pretty equally distri- 
 buted amongst the diflferent orders of civil society. The fact is, that 
 happiness is distributed among all, rich and poor, sick and healthful, 
 old and young, in a manner very ill represented by the above superficial 
 statement, and according to complicated laws which such generalities 
 only tend to obscure. 
 
 Paley's account of happiness is very interesting, but more so, I 
 think, as showing his own mind than in any other view. That it does 
 so, that it is thus first-hand, is a great merit. But the moralist, in 
 describing happiness, must he in a difficulty. If he takes the picture 
 from his own feeling and experience, it must be most incomplete. If he 
 takes it from his thought, intercourse with others, and general judg- 
 ment, it is very likely to be most vague and mistaken. 
 
 Paley's third character of happiness, which I have called ' modera- 
 tion,' is in reality ' the prudent constitution of the habits.' Like much 
 of Paley, it is so practical as to be in fact unpractical. * Set the habits 
 in such a manner that every change may be a change for the better.' 
 //^ To use the illustration which Paley himself gives : Inure yourself to 
 books of science and argumentation, because then any other book which 
 may fall in your way will be a change for the better : they (the bocks 
 
WPIAT DOES HAPPINESS CONSIST IN ? 39 
 
 many others: namely, that as views of life, practical cance, re- 
 and interesting so far as they go, no fault is to be morrexact 
 found with them : but that in the character of de- ^ff "P^-Jon 
 
 of happi- 
 
 scriptions of happiness such as must be required to pess than 
 make significant and effective the utilitarian axiom, utilitarian^ 
 that actions are right as they promote happiness and ^"'^®''^- 
 wrong as they do the reverse, they are altogether in- 
 sufficient and incomplete. Utilitarianism requires us 
 not only to admit its axiom, but to confess that it is 
 the single moral maxim that is of value, and that any 
 others, as that actions are right so far as they are 
 kind, so far as they are fair or just, or whatever it may 
 
 of science) will give you an appetite for novels, well-written pamphlets, 
 and articles of news, and you will sit down to these latter with relish, 
 till the habitual feeling acts again to send you to your graver reading. 
 It seems to me odd that Paley should have taken this merely business 
 view of the science and argumentation of which he was such a master : 
 but what is of more consequence, I think it shows how the look- 
 ing at things only in the point of view of happiness and pleasure 
 obscures our notion of their relative importance : and I think what 
 Paley here says of books belongs to his whole view of life. He thinks 
 of life as an alternation of work and play, much in the way that a 
 schoolboy thinks of his life, with the same absence of notion of the work 
 being for any purpose, except that it must be, and with the same 
 notion that it is the play or enjoyment which is the real life. But even 
 the schoolboy would hardly understand being told to go into school only 
 in order that he might enjoy his play the more, and the telling us, deli- 
 berately, to set our habits so that changes in them may be for the 
 better, seems to me the same kind of advice. 
 
 What is wanted is the thought of life as directed upon other views 
 than this conscious thought of the happiness of it : either simply natural 
 views, such as that we have our bread to get, our family to sup- 
 port, our position to secure or improve, our plans and enterprizes to 
 carry out, the interests of our neighbourhood or our country, or of science, 
 or of the human race, to further as we may ; and happiness to us will 
 then mean the degree in which we are able to succeed in these things, 
 and to bear want of success with patience : or more ideal views, in which 
 it will be rather the worthier of these purposes which suggest them- 
 selves to us, and other purposes as well, such as the improvement of 
 our own and others' character, the higher interests of the human race, 
 the glory of God. Here too, it is in liv'mg, that we shall find, if we 
 find, our happiness. 
 
 The same unpracticalness arising from an attempt at being over- 
 practical belongs to what Paley says as to occupation, or ' the exercise 
 of our faculties to some engaging end.' 
 
40 WHAT DOES HAPPINESS CONSIST IN ? 
 
 be, are only derivative from this. We ask for a de- 
 scription of the happiness. Sometimes utilitarianism, 
 as in Bentham, may make the attempt to methodize 
 and systematize pleasures in a sort of scientific man- 
 ner: but I apprehend that the more practical and 
 thoughtful of the school, as perhaps Mr Mill, do not 
 like this. They then have to give us, as happiness, 
 either what their own individual disposition prompts, 
 or else a repetition, more or less, of that rude and 
 manifestly incomplete human practical observation 
 about happiness which has always existed, but which, 
 merely repeated, is little more than common-place. 
 True, fresh, and original observations as to human 
 life and happiness may be made by utilitarians as by 
 others: but there is nothing I think in their system 
 to lead them specially to make it. 
 Further The thrco most noticeable features of Mr Mill's 
 
 tk)To/Mr description of happiness are perhaps, first that he 
 ^ription of g^®^ ^^^^ ^^ w® hdiWQ seen, to resolve happiness into 
 happiness contentment, and chans^es his term from a 'happy 
 
 as involv- . ./^nii i i •! 
 
 ing: life into a 'satisfied one . then that he considers 
 
 a very great element of happiness to be wideness of 
 interest and intellectual cultivation*: and last that he 
 disagrees with the often repeated couplet which tells 
 us that the portion of human woe which kings and 
 laws can cure is very small, and thinks that better 
 laws would cure a very great deal of it^ 
 
 1. Content- The first of these is something which I wonder at 
 seeing brought into so much prominence by a poli- 
 tical economist like Mr Mill, since in that science 
 aspiration after improvement of economical condi- 
 tion appears as the principle of all progress, and 
 
 1 p. 19. 2 p. 21. 
 
 * The necessity, for happiness, of social and loving emotion, which 
 Mr Mill puts forward very prominently, should perhaps bo added as a 
 separate feature. 
 
 ment. 
 
WHAT DOES HAPPINESS CONSIST IN? 4 1 
 
 contentment with a low condition the thing most 
 to be dreaded. Nor is the praise of contentment, 
 one would think, very utilitarian in principle, for 
 contentment depends upon the mind as well as the 
 condition. And if we think much of what the mind 
 of itself can do in this respect, we drift away from 
 the idea of assignable happiness being the only good 
 thing, and come towards the idea which Mr Mill 
 does not like, of its being possible, if we may say 
 so, to be something as good as happy without ap- 
 parent means of happiness. As a commonplace, the 
 praise of contentment has the sort of truth which 
 such things have ; a truth, that is, partial, and ad- 
 mitting the opposite to be said with equal truth. 
 When Mr Mill says, for instance, as we have seen, 
 that it is a great thing for happiness to expect little 
 from life, I apprehend that with at least an equal 
 degree of truth we might say, that it was a great 
 thing for happiness to expect a great deal from it. 
 But really, whether we do well to be satisfied de- 
 pends (and in this Mr Mill will agree with me) on. 
 Avliat it is we are satisfied with. To be satisfied with 
 what ought not to satisfy us is as great a misfortune 
 as to be dissatisfied and restless when there is no 
 reason for being so : i. e, we come away from happi- 
 ness into the region of 'ought,' the right, the fitting. 
 Right dissatisfaction is the spring of all human pro- 
 gress and improvement. 
 
 About the value for happiness of mental culti- 2. Mental 
 vation and wide-spreading intellectual interest I will ^" *^^*^^°°- 
 not speak. Mr Mill corrects what there might be 
 of superficiality in the notion as he first gives it, 
 and as is involved, to my view, in the word cultiva- 
 tion, by saying, at the conclusion of the passage, 
 that it is not for the gratification of curiosity only 
 that these things should be regarded, but that 'a 
 
42 WHAT DOES HAPPINESS CONSIST IN ? 
 
 moral and a human interest' should be taken in 
 them. And no one can doubt but that in the mind 
 thus exercised is to be found one of the best and 
 most real sources of happiness* : 
 3- im- Nor will I say any thin s^, at least iust now, about 
 
 proved , ... . 
 
 laws. the manner in which Mr Mill thinks we ought all 
 to be happy now, if it were not for 'bad laws and 
 subjection to the will of others ^' I wish laws were 
 better, and whatever I may think myself, I rejoice 
 to see others full of faith in the improvability of 
 them, and would not say a word to produce hope- 
 lessness or wrong satisfaction with what is not good. 
 Mr Mill's language is not indeed altogether encou- 
 raging : he anticipates this world becoming some day, 
 'all that, if will and knowledge were not wanting, 
 it might easily be made^' If will and knowledge 
 both are wanting, if we neither care for the thing nor 
 know anything about it, no wonder the task is not 
 easy, but it may be possible. 
 
 Mr Mill goes on to say, after describing the kind 
 of life which is worthy of the name of happiness, that 
 'such an existence is even now the lot of many 
 during some considerable portion of their lives. The 
 present wretched education, and wretched social ar- 
 rangements, are the only real hindrance to its being 
 attainable by almost all'.' 
 
 Then, showing more in detail how this may be, he 
 says that 'most of the great positive evils of the 
 world' (of which he takes as examples poverty, 
 
 1 p. 21. 2 p, 22. 3 p. 19. 
 
 * ' Nam sive oblectatio quseritur animi, reqiiiesque curarum : quae 
 conferri cum eorum studiis potest, qui semper aliquid anquirunt, quod 
 spectet et valeat ad bene beateque vivendum?' Cic. de Off. 2. 2. Cicero 
 here gives us at once an ingredient of happiness, and the proper place 
 of happiness itself in the investigations M'hich he speaks of. It is to 
 be hoped that the noble and liberal tone of mind which he speaks of 
 is more abundant in our time and country than on the surface it would 
 appear to be. 
 
WHAT DOES HAPPINESS CONSIST IN ? 43 
 
 disease, and vicissitudes of fortune,) ' are in a great 
 degree, many of them almost entirely, conquerable by 
 human care and effort/ 
 
 Now here of course the question, What ai^e better Question 
 
 . , . T/Y» ii ii . as to Mr 
 
 social arrangements, is as dimcult as the question, Miu's view 
 What is happiness. And while heartily agreeing p^o^e^ so. 
 with Mr Mill in his hopefulness for the future, and ^'""^ ^^' 
 
 ... range- 
 
 only wishing to be able to agree with him still more, ments;g.i7. 
 
 I am compelled to feel that the question is one which to poverty, 
 must very speedily arise, and which even the few 
 and general words which he has said suggest. For in- 
 stance, in regard of poverty we read, ' Poverty, in any 
 sense impljdng suffering, may be completely extin- 
 guished by the wisdom of society, combined with the 
 good sense and providence of individuals.' I do not 
 think I am doing injustice to Mr Mill in considering 
 that these words point at that cutting of the knot 
 which many political economists recommend in the 
 ease of the difficulty of poverty, the taking care 
 that numbers shall not be too great. This proposed 
 remedy, coming from those who value as highly as 
 Mr Mill does human happiness, of which the first 
 and great element is surely life and existence itself, 
 has always surprised me. It is indeed a ready re- 
 medy for poverty, but how, if it is to go to such 
 an extent as to change the character of human 
 society, it is to escape being a selfishness en grand 
 of the human race (increasing individual enjoyment 
 only by diminishing the number of enjoyers) I do 
 not see. Not however to discuss this : in the same Superficial 
 way as some of Mr Mill's prospective social arrange- 'vicissi- 
 ments seem questionable, some of his views of the Jj"^? °^ 
 present seem superficial ; as where he says, ' As for 
 vicissitudes of fortune, and other disappointments 
 connected with worldly circumstances, these are prin- 
 cipally the effect either of gross imprudence, or of 
 
44 WHAT DOES HAPPINESS CONSIST IN ? 
 
 ill-regulated desires, or of bad and imperfect social 
 institutions/ 
 
 Is this so ? and is our hope of amendment for the 
 future to depend on our fonning as to the present 
 such views as this ? 
 
 This observation of Mr Mill's suggests to me to 
 close the chapter with saying that in writing about 
 human happiness, while we must get rid of super- 
 stition, I do not think we can get rid, or ought 
 to do so, of a feeling something like awe. The 
 word itself, so far as its history is concerned, implies 
 in almost every language something not in our own 
 power. It is both unfeeling and unreal to talk of 
 it as being so, except so far as we recognize an 
 inward force, which may be supplemented by reli- 
 gious feeling, rising above adverse circumstances. 
 The contemplation with a steady eye of the possible 
 vicissitudes of life, in the midst of which our 
 course is to be steered towards such happiness as 
 may be possible for us, is something very different 
 from Mr Mill's view of vicissitudes here. And for 
 myself, there is something more terrible in the idea 
 of such fearful alternations as these Vicissitudes' re- 
 present being in our own power and resting upon 
 us, considering our ignorance, than there is in the 
 supposition of their being out of our power, so long 
 as we may hope and trust the universe is not 
 for evil. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 ON QUALITY OF PLEASURE. 
 
 I ALLUDED in the last chapter to the two great unset- 
 tled questions, to what degree happiness is different 
 for different people, and how far it is in each man's 
 own power for himself. Both these questions concern 
 the subject of this chapter. If happiness is different 
 for different people, how far ought it to be so ? And 
 how far can we raise the character of our happiness ? 
 
 There is perhaps a disposition in our age to accept a morality 
 a morality of happiness as better, more like what we ness, espe- 
 expect morality to be> than one of rule : such a hlci/des^* 
 morality may take the form of a utilitarianism recoff- t^^ejjfaoi 
 
 . . ^.pf, . . worthiness, 
 
 nizmg different kinds of pleasures, some worthier and is more ac- 
 more to be striven after than others. Keligion too than*a m 
 has not unfrequently shown itself more in harmony Ji^ief °^ 
 with the moral philosophy which speaks much of hap- 
 piness than with that which speaks much of law. 
 And though it is true that when religion has spoken 
 the language of bare utilitarianism, as in Paley, it 
 has not much commended itself to real human feel- 
 ing : still when it is presented to us not only as con- 
 formahle to our desire, but also as what is to regulate 
 our desire, uniting with its promises to make us happy 
 a call upon us for effort after a worthy happiness, and 
 elevation of our idea of happiness (as we are told on 
 the one hand that the ways of religion are pleasant- 
 ness and her paths peace, while on the other hand we 
 
 a mo- 
 
46 QUALITY OF PLEASURE. 
 
 pray that we may love that which God commands 
 and desire that he promises) ; the morality which is 
 thus proposed to us has charms in our view which do 
 not belong to a morality of rule. 
 But thi3 But then it is to be observed that this more at- 
 
 worthiness tractivo form of utilitarianism involves another idea 
 is incon- bosides that of pleasure or happiness, namely, worthi- 
 positivist ness as to pleasure or happiness, independent 01 quan- 
 ism. ^"^" tity of it. However we acquire this idea of ^worthi- 
 ness' in pleasure, it is certainly not acquired from the 
 mere consideration of the pleasure ; the feeling we 
 have of it is not simply that of being pleased or 
 of enjoyment ; it possesses an imperativeness, or 
 exercises a force upon us, quite different from that 
 which is exercised by the consideration of pleasure 
 only. If then we still call our theory utilitarianism, 
 it must not be with a notion that it is any longer 
 resting upon the merely positivist basis of what men 
 do desire, even though, inconsistently, it should go 
 on to convert its generalization from this into an ideal 
 of what men ought to desire. Indeed the difference 
 between the doctrine which is, and the doctrine which 
 is not, utilitarianism can hardly be more aptly de- 
 scribed than by saying that the latter would educate 
 us to a happiness more or less dependent on conside- 
 rations of right, duty, virtue, while the former would 
 make all these ideas dependent on that of happiness : 
 and if we speak of kinds or qualities of happiness, one 
 superior to the other, it must surely be on some of 
 the above considerations that the superiority depends. 
 We have then a philosophy of happiness as euSai- 
 jjiovia, or a lofty ideal of what man may rise to, 
 entirely different from a philosophy of happiness as 
 'qSovrjj or the fact of enjoyment as unaffected by 
 man's will and his moral nature. 
 Equality' Mr Mill hovers between these two, between 
 
QUALITY OF PLEASURE. 47 
 
 aD aspiring and truly ideal utilitarianism or lofty J^ "aereiy 
 eudaemonism, and a utilitarianism on the merely estim'Lted 
 Epicurean basis of measurement of pleasures. Hofinite^ana- 
 endeavours to mend the old utilitarianism by add-l^^^^^"* 
 mg quality of pleasure to quantity, but immediately lyzed ex- 
 neutralizes this by saying in effect that this quality 
 is quantity estimated in a different manner, namely, 
 not by definite analysis, which was Bentham's method, 
 but by human experience and testimony without such 
 analysis. 
 
 When however, in the comparison of two plea- is this ex- 
 sures, he speaks of our going by the experience brregard-*' 
 of those who have tried both', he does not suffi- f ^ ?•'. ®^" 
 
 . bodying 
 
 ciently explain whether those who thus tell us their opinion as 
 experience are to be considered as giving us testi- timony i 
 mony or opinion^. If the former, then there is no 
 
 1 Util p. 12. 
 
 ^ Mr Mill's words 'of two pleasures, if there be one to which all or 
 almost all who have had experience of both give a decided preference, 
 that is the more desirable pleasure,' seem clearly to show that he would 
 make this a matter of testi7nony. It is in fact much the same argu- 
 ment which we find in Plato's Republic, ix. 681, where the pleasure 
 arising from the pursuit of knowledge is shown to be superior to the 
 pleasure arising from the pursuit of gain or of honour, on the ground 
 that the man of intellect alone has experience of all three kinds of plea- 
 sure and that he prefers that which arises from the pursuit of knowledge. 
 
 It is plain however in the first place that there is nothing like the 
 unanimity which Mr Mill supposes with regard to the comparison of 
 higher and lower pleasures, and in the next place that in practice it is 
 not bare testimony, but the opinion of those whom they consider good 
 judges, by which people are guided. With regard to the first point Mr 
 Mill himself tells us that 'many who begin with youthful enthusiasm for 
 every thing noble, as they advance in years sink into indolence and 
 selfishness.' Here then we have a case of persons who have had ex- 
 perience of both kinds of pleasure and yet prefer the lower. Mr Mill's 
 answer is, that when they so prefer they have lost their susceptibility 
 for the higher pleasure. Might not the same objection be made in the 
 converse case of one who beginning with a love of sport or amusement, 
 at a later age becomes absorbed in science or politics? Might not a 
 younger man refuse to be influenced by example in this latter case, 
 on the ground that men as they advance in life lose their susceptibility 
 to the superior pleasures which are the exclusive property of youth ] 
 
4^ QUALITY OF PLEASURE. 
 
 occasion to introduce the mention of tliem : their 
 experience only stands in the place of what might 
 possibly have been our own, and more satisfactorily 
 would have been so : a witness is only our own 
 senses at second-hand and with much uncertainty ; 
 and we have only the same comparison of pleasures 
 which Paley gives, now in an inferior form. If 
 the experience told embodies more than testimony, 
 namely, opinion and sentiment, what makes us value 
 that opinion and sentiment, and more from one 
 person than from another? What the matter then 
 comes to is, that the pleasure most valued by a man 
 whom we think worthier than others we ourselves 
 most value : we estimate the worthiness of pleasures 
 by observing what people value them. In this view 
 
 The question will then arise, why are we justified in accepting the 
 testimony of the man who has lost his susceptibility to the one kind of 
 pleasure rather than that of him who has lost his susceptibiaty to the 
 other kind % And this a question which cannot be settled by any com- 
 parison of pleasures. 
 
 In the next place, even if we are comparing together pleasures of the 
 same kind, we are not content to go merely by the experience of any 
 one who may happen to have tried them : we require to know something 
 of the fitness of the person to be a judge. To be told, for instance, that 
 the majority of people prefer such a wine, or such a novel, or such an 
 opera, would be to others a proof that they would find no pleasure in 
 them. ' I know I shall not like it, because B does,' is as good reasoning 
 as, ' I know I shall like it, because A does.' 
 
 The words in the text 'their experience only stands in place of what 
 might more satisfactorily have been our own,' are not of course intended 
 to mean that we are never at liberty to save ourselves a painful or 
 hurtful experience by making use of the experience of others. This is 
 iipparent from the language used in p. 51 about the danger of 'people 
 being tempted to try the different sorts of pleasure for themselves.' The 
 reference is, I think, to that which is more fully stated elsewhere, that 
 the comparison of pleasures which differ in quality must really rest 
 upon the comparison of the faculties which they call out, or the parts of 
 our nature which enter into them; and this latter comparison is one 
 which every one is bound to have made for himself; to feel, for instance, 
 that the active exercise of the bodily powers is better than eating or 
 sleeping, that in activity of mind there is something better than in 
 activity of body, and therefore that the pleasures attaching to the one 
 are higher than the pleasures attaching to the other. En. 
 
QUALITY OF PLEASURE. 49 
 
 the different worthiness of pleasures is fully recog- 
 nized : and this manner of doing it is most practical 
 and most common. But what makes the people 
 themselves such that we care for their opinion ? 
 Mr Mill, I think, on principles of utilitarianism, 
 could not tell us. The sentiment and opinion which 
 these people form is only what we ought, so far as 
 it is possible, to form ourselves. And if we are 
 to form such an opinion, their experience should 
 be one thing, but only one, to help our forming it. 
 Besides looking to that, we may look to the plea- 
 sures themselves, and see if there are not reasons 
 why one should be better than the other. 
 
 I should say then that, while Mr Mill in reference Mr Mill 
 to quality of pleasure fully recognizes what I have up^n^m-^ 
 called idealism, he attempts to base it Upon positiv- J^f^^j^g^^^ 
 ism or experience in a manner which seems to me thinking. 
 both erroneous and useless. Take for instance such aiLws, cer- 
 a sentence as ^Now it is an unquestionable fact that^eaare^ 
 those who are equally acquainted with, and equally others *the 
 capable of appreciating and enjoying both, do give a appeal to 
 most marked preference to the manner of existence is not 
 which employs their higher faculties' (p. 12). The regard to 
 word 'higher,' a word of doubtful import of which p^?^."''^'-^'* 
 
 ^ ^ ^ i arising 
 
 I have spoken further on, evidently involves some- from the 
 thing in the nature of idealism. And the point such facui- 
 in which I differ (which I indicate the rather be- *'®^' 
 cause it is the real point of our difference all through) 
 is this : if it is admitted that we have some faculties 
 higher than others, why is it necessary, before deter- 
 mining our action, to wait to see whether or not 
 others, whoever they are, give a preference to the 
 manner of existence which employs those faculties ? 
 This fact of positivism or experience seems to me 
 irrelevant, or at least quite subsidiary. If the facul- 
 ties are thus 'higher,' let them, as suchj determine 
 
 4 
 
50 QUALITY OF PLEASURE. 
 
 our action, not in virtue of their determining the 
 action of such and such people. This appeal to 
 positivism is merely making us live at second-hand. 
 If the expression, * capable of appreciating both,' 
 is intended to denote the sort of worthiness of which 
 I have spoken, there is some reason in what is 
 said : but I think Mr Mill is uniting various incom- 
 patible modes of thinking together. A page forward 
 he describes the tribunal to which he here alludes 
 as a tribunal of which the judgment goes by 'the 
 general suffrage of those who are familiar with both' 
 (two pains or two pleasures). Here the appeal seems 
 rather to the multitude, than to any special compe- 
 tence or worthiness in the judges. Here w^e come 
 nearer to Bentham, and leave our ideas of higher 
 and lower. But have we not a proof in all this, that 
 these appeals to fact and experience do not touch 
 the most real experience ? The experience we have 
 to regard is, in the first instance, our own, and it is 
 a more important fact of experience to us that we 
 ourselves imagine there is something we should do, 
 and look out for that, and regard ourselves as 
 possessed of higher and lower faculties, than it is 
 that others judge in whatever way they do judge 
 about pleasures. 
 Such an But without analysing too closely the word ex- 
 
 experience perience, let us take it in the wide way in which 
 limited^* it is frequently used by philosophers, to signify the 
 practical, rcsult of our own or others' observation. It is no 
 any theore- doubt a ready application of human experience, for 
 ticai, value. ^^^ persou to Say to another, ' I have tried both 
 those pleasures : I know the pleasure of literary 
 investigation, and the pleasure of drunkenness ; and 
 I can assure you that an hour of the one is worth 
 days of the other:' or, 'my early days were passed 
 in excess, my later in domestic quiet ; and I can 
 
QUALITY OF PLEASUllE. 5 1 
 
 assure you the later have been far the happier.' But 
 when we come to make this sort of communication of 
 experience general enough for a philosophical theory, 
 difficulties arise. As it is, such assurings do not 
 produce upon other minds as much effect as we 
 should expect : the comparison is demurred to, for, 
 to be complete, it requires that the mind of the 
 comparer should be in the same state, and judge in 
 the same manner, at the time of the one pleasure 
 as at that of the other : and if our moral action 
 had to depend much on comparison of this kind, 
 there would be more temptation than is desirable 
 for people to try for themselves the different sorts 
 of pleasure. And after all we want more categories 
 than that of quality added to quantity, to enable 
 us to bring the very heterogeneous elements which 
 compose pleasure into any relation with each other 
 which can be of philosophical value. 
 
 Perhaps it may be well to explain more fully the 
 two points brought out in the last paragraphs, first, 
 that on principles of utilitarianism there cannot be 
 any real significance in the distinction of quality in 
 pleasure ; second, that as a matter of fact it is not 
 possible to compare pleasures in the way supposed. 
 
 Mr Mill's idea of the difference of quality at- Relative 
 taching to pleasures is little other than that of rela- Hty^ascer- 
 tive preferability : and this preferability he makes *^^"®4 ^^ 
 
 *■ , ^ . . ^ . *^ . experience 
 
 matter again of simple experience. Strictly speaking, only shows 
 we should rather call it actual preferredness ; that is, qi quan- 
 the preferability is known only by actual preference fetence^f 
 on the part of those who have had experience in such quality im- 
 
 y n • ^ /"xi** t plies con- 
 
 a manner as to be fit judges. ( In this view quality sciousness 
 becomes merely a more refined quantity.) After all, fo/thr^f- 
 Paley would say, it is only that there Is so much o^^^ p^^e^. 
 the more intensity in the pleasure which is the sure is 
 
 n 1 ' o 1 • really supc- 
 
 preferable one of the two: it you determme your nor to an- 
 
 4—2 
 
52 QUALITY OF PLEASURE. 
 
 other i.e- preferableness only by actual experience, you have 
 longs to a but quantity after all. So far as we have a con- 
 regioTof sciousness, in reference to the pleasure, not only 
 IncTfed- ^^^^ ^^ ^^ greater than another, but that it is of 
 ing- a different hind, or that its quality is really different, 
 
 we must be conscious of something of a reason why 
 it is greater than the other : and here it is that we 
 have the consideration alien to utilitarianism, the 
 appeal from sense to reason, or from experience to 
 something different from it. As soon as Mr Mill 
 gets out of the arithmetic of pleasures which Bentham 
 thought was possible, he really leaves utilitarianism : 
 as soon as we begin to speak with meaning of the 
 quality of pleasure, we begin to confess that we 
 cannot rightly discuss and reason about happiness 
 and pleasure without taking into account many 
 things besides. Happiness is a function of life : one 
 pleasure is superior in quality to another because 
 it belongs to a different region of thought and 
 feeling ; we not only feel it preferable, but we 
 understand more or less why it is so ; in the case 
 of some of the highest pleasures it is probable that 
 we never should come to feel them, so as to know of 
 ourselves their preferability, without mounting in 
 thought, before we feel them, to the region to which 
 they belong. 
 Difference ^ cousistout Utilitarian can scarcely hold the 
 is not ca- difference of quality in pleasures in any sense : for if 
 being mea- they differ otherwise than in w^hat, speaking largely, 
 sured. j^^y |-jg called quantity, they are not mutually com- 
 parable, and in determining as to the preferability of 
 one pleasure to another, we must then be guided by 
 some considerations not contained in the idea or 
 experience of the pleasure itself. But all Epicurean 
 utilitarianism must rest on the idea that pleasures 
 are mutually comparable, and that it is the greater 
 
QUALITY OF PLEASURE. 53 
 
 pleasure which must determine our action. If we 
 allow the notion of one pleasure being hetter than 
 another in any other way than as greater, we not 
 only introduce Stoic elements', but migrate bodily 
 over to Stoicism. By difference of quality, as dis- 
 tinguished from difference of quantity, we just mean 
 that the juxtaposition of the things or ideas, by 
 themselves, makes us aware of no relation betw'een 
 them : utilitarianism must measure pleasures, and 
 difference of what is really quality, as distinguished 
 from quantity, is not mensurable. 
 
 What Mr Mill says of the comparison of one Pleasures 
 pleasure with another by means of the experience upon^yie 
 of those who have tried both, is of interest, and is f,^*"'"^?^. 
 
 . . . . . ''"^ mdivi- 
 
 practical, but I think that, as in utilitarianism gen- ^uai mind, 
 erally, so here, things are raised to philosophical be com- 
 importance which have really no claim to such ^cTentifiJ 
 importance, though in practice and in their place p^'^p^^®^- 
 they have doubtless their value. Ever since the 
 world began, the experience of the older has been 
 brought to bear upon the younger in the matter 
 of pleasure. Advice founded on this experience has 
 constantly had some effect, but as constantly failed to 
 produce the amount of effect which might have been 
 anticipated from it : exception has tacitly been taken 
 more or less to the fairness and completeness of the 
 comparison of pleasures made. The fact is, two 
 pleasures cannot be tasted with a view to the com- 
 parison of them, as a chemist may taste two fluids : 
 the utilitarian is led astray by his language, talking 
 as he does about pleasures as if they were separate 
 entities, independent of the mind of the enjoyer of 
 them : the pleasures are always mixed with some- 
 thing from ourselves, which prevents us from speak- 
 ing, with any philosophically good result, of this 
 
 ^ UtiL p. II. 
 
54 QUALITY OF PLEASURE. 
 
 sort of independent comparability among them. 
 The practical experience of those whose Ufe has 
 been varied^ and whose intellect and feeling have 
 been alive, is of infinite interest to us and of 
 very great moral importance : but after all it fur- 
 nishes us with nothing of that sort of experimen- 
 tation as to the relative preferability of pleasures, 
 ana,logous to the experimentalism of physical science, 
 which is required for us to erect this experience 
 into a measure of the comparative greatness of plea- 
 sures, such as may determine for us our whole moral 
 action. 
 Theindi- As a matter of fact we do not look upon plea- 
 
 vidual , 111 
 
 mind itself surcs as independent thmgs to be thus compared 
 that^the ^^ with each other, but as interwoven with the rest of 
 son cannot ^^^^> ^^ haviug their history and their reasons, as 
 compare involvin^: different kinds of enioyment in such a 
 
 past and o >/ 
 
 present manner that our being able to enter into one kind 
 p easures. -^ ^accompanied with a horror of another kind, which 
 would entirely prevent the comparison of the one 
 with the other as pleasures. Besides this, it must 
 be remembered that, in the interval between the one 
 pleasure and the other, the mind itself is changed : 
 you have no permanent touchstone, no currency to 
 be the medium of the comparison. Supposing a man 
 whose youth has been grossly vicious, whose mature 
 age is most deeply devout : according to disposition, 
 the view as to past life in this case will probably 
 much differ : but most commonly I think the man 
 will wonder that he was ever able to find pleasure 
 at all in what he once found pleasure in. Earnest- 
 ness in the later frame of mind, whatever it is, would 
 only preclude the possibility of a cool comparison of 
 it, as to pleasure, with the earlier one. 
 biiir^of ^ ^^ ^^^ think that any person who considers 
 
 framing a really what life is, while undoubtedly he acknow- 
 
QUALITY OP PLEASURE. 55 
 
 ledges that this comparability among different sorts scale of 
 of pleasure, as pleasure, is to a certain extent real^^ 
 and what we act upon, will ever imagine that it can 
 be to us .a moral guide, or a basis for moral philo- 
 sophy. We have, most of us, our own pleasures, 
 and other people's pleasures often seem to us none 
 at all. I cannot understand a happiness for every- 
 body, after we have gone beyond our universal wants 
 of meat, drink, and shelter, and till we arrive at a 
 sphere where pleasure may be of a temper and na- 
 ture which at present we cannot enter into. I can- 
 not understand a general scale of pleasures, in which 
 so many marks will be given to drunkenness, so 
 many to love of the fine arts, so many to something 
 else, according to the experience of those who have 
 tried more than one of them. The experience and 
 the comparison is I am aware a fact, and a fact for 
 moral philosophy to use : but it is but one fact, and 
 its application and use but limited. 
 
 When we ursre upon any, as doubtless we often Advice has 
 
 no SiUtlior- 
 
 do, 'Follow such and such conduct, it is what will ity unless 
 make you happy,' we may of course appeal to the beyond 
 experience of one and another, and to their saying J^^nS^' 
 how it has made them happy, but we more often I pleasure. 
 think shall give reasons why it will make the par- 
 ticular person whom we are advising happy, i. e, we 
 shall travel out of the simple pleasure to other con- ' 
 siderations. No moral philosophy can speak with 
 any authority to a man while dictating to him his 
 happiness, unless it gives him the reason why it is his 
 happiness : otherwise, if he says he would rather try 
 for himself whether it is, I do not know what we 
 are to answer. 
 
 In reality, the reason of the insufficiency of ex- ^''JJ^g®^^® 
 perience, whether our own or that of others, to value respect is 
 pleasures by, seems to me to lie in the nature of value, be- 
 
56 QUALITY OF PLEASURE. 
 
 cause plea- pleasure itself: it will not bear to be looked too 
 
 not admit Straight at, to be made too much, itself, the object 
 
 made^the ^^^ ccutre of viow. Our own experience on the 
 
 ^"rV^t ^^^^^^ I should be disposed to rate e:^ceedingly 
 
 tention. highly, SO much so, that I should consider quite as 
 
 important a point of happiness as any which Mr 
 
 Mill or Paley has given, to be the finding out by 
 
 experience what will make our happiness, in the 
 
 same way as we find what is good for our health; 
 
 and people are only too much disposed, I think, to 
 
 go by the ^general suffrage.' Nor have I any wish 
 
 to deny the importance of the experience of others 
 
 as aiding us to form a just estimate of the relative 
 
 value of pleasures : I only demur to the making it 
 
 so large a part of the foundation of our moral duty. 
 
 The reference to it or study of it comes in as one 
 
 of the investigations subsidiary to ethics, and as a 
 
 most important one. 
 
 The two And so in respect to the science in sfeneral, which 
 
 schools of . I . , ^ . ^T-, 
 
 philosophy may be conceived as answering the question, what 
 study to is human happiness and how may it best be pro- 
 St'^n ^oted? as I have said before, I have no wish to 
 happiness dcprociato thjs science, if so it is to be called. It 
 respective doos uot bcloug to utiHtariauism alone, nor is it to 
 met o s. j^^ supposed that those who are not utilitarians deny 
 the value of it, or have been negligent in the study 
 * of it. Let utilitarians have the credit of having tried 
 to introduce more of system than there had pre- 
 viously been in it, though I cannot think their 
 systematizing, as witness that of Bentham, very 
 happy. But at present the study is open ground to 
 all: valuable discoveries in it would be a greater 
 glory of our age than all its material triumphs : 
 the contest between utilitarianism and intuitivism* 
 (so to call it) is now, if we look at things rather than 
 
 1 mil p. 3. 
 
QUALITY OF PLEASURE. 57 
 
 words, so old, and so unsatisfactory, that perhaps it 
 would be well it should be transformed into a 
 rivalry which of the two, each following its own 
 line of thought, can best bring out and commend 
 to the general understanding such truths about 
 man's nature as are of importance for man's hap- 
 piness. Let them try which shall make most way 
 in giving us such an account of human life, as shall 
 meet all the facts of it, embrace all its elements, 
 and so far as it proposes an ideal to look forward 
 to, give us one which we really recognize as a suf- 
 ficient and a worthy one. My own feeling is, that 
 the foundations for such a work as this must be laid 
 deeper than utilitarianism lays them. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 PROOF OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 I COME now to Mr Mill's proof of utilitarianism, or 
 rather of that particular form of utilitarianism of 
 which he is the author. 
 Five differ- It may be a little anticipating, but I think it 
 of utiutari- as Well to saj here, that the term utilitarianism 
 ^°'^°^' is applied in this Essay in four, or more properly 
 ^Ye, different manners. I am not responsible for 
 this variety of application : what I have endeavoured 
 to do has been to bring the (as it seems to me) very 
 vague application of the term by Mr Mill under 
 heads which may be described as follows : 
 I. Abstract I. That utilitarianism which belongs to all moral 
 anism" philosophy alike\ This is the admission of the axiom 
 Se^a^bs(> ^ as Valid in the very beginning of all things, if we 
 lute end. like to form such a conception, or in an absolute 
 sphere of thought, that the value of action is its 
 conduciveness to some happiness : or putting the pro- 
 position in a negative form, that action which pro- 
 duces no happiness of anybody or anything, is wasted 
 in the universe of action, and such as produces the 
 opposite of happiness worse than wasted : both being 
 therefore wrong. 
 2. Phiioso- 2. What I have called philosophical utilitarian- 
 litarianism: ism is the taking this axiom, maintaining its truth 
 ^ See Appendix at the end of the chapter. 
 
PROOF OF UTILITARIANISM. 59 
 
 not only in the sphere of thought above described, applying 
 but universally and under all circumstances, and stract prin. 
 maintaining besides that it is the one important tu^turTan 
 axiom of morality, all others deriving: themselves in^^f; 4^ 
 
 •^ ' ^ c) action IS 
 
 one way or another from this. What I have en- morally 
 deavoured to show in this Essay is, that in the moral only as 
 philosophy of man this axiom is only true in a qua- to^happ^ 
 lified form and in conjunction with others of equal '^®^^- 
 importance. Philosophical utilitarianism entirely mis- 
 rej)resents morality \ 
 
 3. The utilitarianism of Paley and Bentham 3. oid uti- 
 (against which the objections have been made which virSiy"^' 
 Mr Mill undertakes to refute) is the association oi^^^l''^ . 
 
 / ^ ^ the happi- 
 
 the above axiom, more or less distinctly broue^ht out, ness of 
 
 others se- 
 
 with the Epicurean or (commonly called) selfish condary. 
 theory of morals as concerns the facts of human mo- 
 tive, and with the view of virtue as simple benevo- 
 lence as concerns the rule of human action. Accord- 
 ing to Paley, what each man values is only his own 
 happiness, but God values the happiness of ally and 
 enforces His view upon man by promises and penal- 
 ties. Bentham seems to present all happiness, both 
 his own and that of others, as valuable in the view 
 of each man : but he seems to avow, as to fact, an 
 
 1 The meaning of these two paragraphs may be made clearer by the 
 following passage taken from another MS. of Prof Grote's. " We may 
 say, probably truly, that the ultimate constituent of moral value in ac- 
 tions is benefit derived from them to some sentient being, and felt in 
 some way or other as such by him. But the conversion of this ultimate 
 and general fact into the near and particular one, that actions are only 
 good in so far as they are visibly useful or felicific, changes its nature 
 altogether. Truth and mutual confidence may be said to have been 
 created as laws of the moral imiverse in the creation of intelligent 
 beings such as, supposing the existence of these laws, could cooperate 
 with each other to their general benefit. But the supposition of the 
 usefulness of truth as a thing requiring to be proved now, in order 
 to commend or justify our acting truthfully, puts things out of their 
 place in morality and gives quite a wrong idea of the moral value of 
 tnith." Ed. 
 
6o PROOF OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 Epicurean view, and fails to give a sufficient account 
 how, upon such a view, people come to value inde- 
 pendently the happiness of others. 
 4.. New 4. Mr Mill's neo-utilitarianism seems to me an 
 
 rsmf med;- attempt, by filling up a variety of weak places in this 
 uo^nsby in- ^^^^ philosophy (though in so doing he destroys much 
 troducing of the character of the buildinof) to raise it into a 
 elements, real philosophical utilitarianism such as I described 
 before, and then, by transferring to this latter from 
 other philosophies various principles, such as the 
 Stoic sociality, which do not properly belong to it, 
 to make it a complete building, and lead us to sup- 
 pose that the foundation is complete also. 
 5. Practi- 5. The practical or reforming utilitarianism of 
 rfaJsm'?* Bontham is something which does not necessarily in- 
 ITent^of "^^Iv^ ^^^ utilitarian philosophy : of this practical uti- 
 phiiosophy. litarianism I shall speak further on\ 
 
 Perhaps the preceding analysis may help the 
 reader in some tangled matter that is before us. 
 
 I will next make a remark on an expression of 
 
 Mr Mill's : the expression, I mean, of feelings being 
 
 'moralized'.' 
 
 Moraiiza- Thoro is ouly one real difficulty, Mr Mill thinks, 
 
 natli^ai ^^ ^^^ utilitarian theory of morals. This is, the pe- 
 
 feeiing by cullar seutimont which attaches to cases of iustice, as 
 
 the pnnci- t* ' ^ 1 n n t at 
 
 pie of so- contradistmguished from cases of expediency I And 
 ciaiy. ^T^^ view of this sentiment which renders the diffi- 
 culty no longer a difficulty, is, that ' it is simply the 
 natural feeling of resentment, moralized by being 
 made coextensive with the demands of social good.' 
 Thisappiies Now I should havo thought that any one, in 
 Bh-e^f hap- reading this description of the sentiment of justice 
 pinessno ^j^^ of the morality or moralness which belongs to it, 
 to the feel- would havo Considered that just the same language 
 
 ^ See belowj ch. xvi. ^ i/m ^ 75 ' p. 61. 
 
sentment. 
 
 PROOF OF UTILITARIANISM. 6 1 
 
 would hold, if for justice we put benevolence oringofre- 
 pbilantbropy, and for resentment that desire of hap- 
 piness or acting for happiness which, in one form or 
 another, we all consider the primary or immediate 
 motive of human action. Benevolence (or virtue, in 
 this sense of it,) is this ^ acting for happiness,' ' mo- 
 ralized by being made coextensive with the demands 
 of social good/ It is not the action being for happi- 
 ness that makes it right or moral for man, but this 
 love of happiness requires to be 'moralized' just in 
 the same manner as resentment does : and the mo- 
 ralizing principle in both cases is the same, namely, 
 the desire of, and tendency to, social good, tight- 
 ness of action is thus not conduciveness to happiness 
 simply, but is conduciveness to social happiness, or 
 social good. And that the adjective is more impor- 
 tant in the phrase here than the substantive, we may 
 see from this : that while conduciveness to happiness, 
 or the demands of happiness, or of good, simply, will 
 not express the moralizing principle we want, con- 
 duciveness to sociality, or the demands of society, 
 will. 
 
 To show that I am not making use here, for my Mr Miii 
 purpose, of particular phrases only and sentences ^^^^thJ" 
 which do not express 2:eneral views, it will be suffi- natural de- 
 
 -- _. . sire of our 
 
 cient, I think, to turn to Mr Mill's third chapter, own happi- 
 more especially to p. 45. We here find a description ti!us mora- 
 of the moralizing power of Hhe demands of social ^^®^" 
 good,' a description as complete and beautiful, I 
 think, as is to be found in any moral writings We 
 find a full recoraition of ' the social feelino^s of man- 
 kind,' and ' the desire to be in unity with our fellow- 
 creatures.' 'The social state' is spoken of as 'na- 
 tural, necessary, and habitual to men:' and the man- 
 ner in which this is so is shown most admirably. I 
 may be wrong, but it appears to me that Mr Mill 
 
62 PROOF OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 writes with more force and more feeling about social 
 feeling or social happiness, as throughout this chap- 
 ter, than he does when he is writing as a true utili- 
 tarian about happiness in that unindividual, unincor- 
 porate, abstract notion of it, in which the utilitarian 
 view represents it as giving to actions their moral 
 value. Write as we may, the difference to our view 
 of the happiness of ourselves and the happiness of 
 others is a thought which must suggest itself : when 
 we write about bare happiness, as if this difference 
 did not exist, we write merely unreally : it is when, 
 as Mr Mill in this third chapter, we write of the rela- 
 tion of one of these to the other, and show how the 
 social feeling carries us from one to the other, or, in 
 the words before used, ^moralizes' the merely natural 
 acting for happiness (happiness of course in the first 
 instance our own), that we come to what is real and 
 interesting. There are one or two errors, it appears 
 to me, in Mr Mill's description of man's social feel- 
 ings and social state by nature, which I may perhaps 
 notice presently: but the description is very noble 
 and very beautiful. 
 In writing If it wcro uot therefore for the professed purpose 
 ceases to and plau of these papers to defend utilitarianism, I 
 urinn^and should myself bc inclined rather to call Mr Mill a 
 might societarian, if we must have new and sectarian words, 
 
 rather be .... . , . i«iii» i/» 
 
 called a so- than an utilitarian in the sense in which he himself 
 cie anan. ^^^j^gg ^^^^ describes utilitarianism. He writes about 
 man's natural sociality as if he were a mere Peripa- 
 tetic or Stoic, or anything rather than the Epicurean 
 he would be, and he writes about the feeling of pain 
 attendant on the violation of duty almost as if he 
 were a mere emotionalist. The Epicureanism which 
 lies at the base of utilitarianism would, he tells us, 
 admit and be the better for some Stoic elements, and 
 utilitarians in his view might have said much which 
 
PROOF OF UTILITARIANISM. 63 
 
 they have not said\ It seems to me that in his uti- 
 litarianism the Stoic intrusion has quite overwhelmed 
 the original occupancy: and that if utilitarians had 
 from the beginning said a good deal of what they 
 here say in his person, the name of utilitarianism 
 would never have been heard of, nor many of the ob- 
 jections against it. 
 
 I come now to Mr Mill's proof of utilitarianism ^ Mr Mill's 
 I am not much concerned with the logical conclusive- Starian- 
 ness of it. Mr Mill admits that what he says will most ''"^ '^^'^■ 
 likely appear merely 'obvious^,' and yet is not * proof 
 in the ordinary meaning of the term'*:' in fact the 
 subject does not admit of it. But it is important to 
 observe the manner of thinking which the proof in- 
 volves, and what it is that is proved. 
 
 The course of proof appears to be this (going 
 backwards) : we know happiness to be ' the criterion 
 of morality V because we know it to be Hhe sole end 
 of hiiman action:' we know this last again, because 
 we know it to be ' a psychological fact,' that * human 
 nature is so constituted as to desire nothing which is 
 not either a part of happiness or a means of happi- 
 ness:' this we know 'by practised self-consciousness 
 and observation, assisted by the observation of others :' 
 it is the matter of fact and experience upon which 
 the whole depends. And Mr Mill gravely speaks of 
 this as a fact which we might possibly doubt, as 
 if, previous to observation, it was quite as natural 
 to suppose that men might desire the unpleasant 
 and undesirable (not by mistake but as such) as the 
 desirable; as if the terms or notions they involve, 
 had no correlation with each other. He treats it as 
 a matter * to be decided,' as a matter on which ' evi- 
 
 Util. p. 1 1. ' Ch. IV. 
 
 p. 58. 'pp. 6, 51. «p. 57. 
 
04 PROOF OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 dence must be impartially consulted/ whether we 
 may or may not say that 'desiring a thing and 
 finding it pleasant, aversion to it and thinking of it 
 as painful, are phenomena entirely inseparable/ and 
 so forth. Such doubtfulness as there may be in 
 utilitarianism is to be solved, it would appear, by the 
 deciding of this question, as a matter of experiment. 
 It is an I draw attention to this, because I seem to trace 
 
 base upon iu it tho Same proceeding on the part of Mr Mill to 
 thaTwhich which I have before drawn attention in the case of 
 ^roved ^"^ 9.uahty of happiness : the desire namely to put that 
 from expe- upou the grouud of experience and observation which 
 that h'appi- does not belong to it, and while taking account of an 
 soTe crite-'' ^^cal, to attempt to build it, from the first, upon the 
 rion of mo- positive, which will bear no such structure. Mr Mill 
 says', 'From the dawn of philosophy the question 
 concerning the summum bonum has been accounted 
 the main problem in speculative thought.' He is 
 doing his part to solve it. But surely he cannot mean 
 that it is solved by the laying down, as a supposed 
 fact of observation, that what men really desire is 
 that which is pleasant to them. Is the doubtfulness 
 which has hitherto attended the question, and which 
 observation has now at last put an end to, the doubt- 
 fulness whether men really do this ? Mr Mill has to 
 prove that 'happiness,' as the ideal summum honum 
 of man, is the one thing which ought to regulate his 
 conduct (as he calls it, the sole criterion of morality) : 
 this is not a thing that any observation can prove, 
 and it is quite a vain proceeding to set observation, 
 as Mr Mill does, to warrant a truism, and then to 
 say that in doing so it proves a point entirely dif- 
 , ^. .^ ferent. 
 
 Ambiguity 
 
 of the word So much as to the form or manner of Mr Mill's 
 
 'desirable' /» mi /. j i j.* 
 
 in his proof proot. ihc reicrence to observation or experience 
 
 ^ p. I. 
 
PROOF OF UTILITARIANISM. 65 
 
 shows mistake as to what is wanted. We want ob- 
 servation to show us in detail, what are the things 
 which man desires, but we do not want it to show us 
 that he desires the desirable. If by the desirable we 
 mean the pleasant, that is equivalent in meaning to 
 the actually desired, and observation is not needed, 
 the proposition being what I have called a truism, 
 and the truth of it involved in the words. If by the 
 desirable we mean the ideally desirable, the summum 
 bonum, that which is good for man or makes his wel- 
 fare, it is certainly no fact of observation that man 
 desires this, for he constantly does not do so. But it 
 is not in this manner that any moral theory is to be 
 proved so far as it is capable of proof '. 
 
 ' Perhaps the argument may be more clearly stated thus : 
 The steps of Mr Mill's proof are 
 
 A. Man desires happiness : therefore happiness is desirable, p. 52. 
 
 B. Man desires happiness alone : therefore happiness alone is de- 
 
 sirable, p. 56. 
 
 C. Happiness then is the sole end of human action : the promotion 
 
 of happiness is the test by which to judge of all human con- 
 duct : it is therefore the criterion of morality, p. 57. 
 The author begins by objecting that A and B are unnecessary, since 
 happiness may be defined as the desirable (which viewed abstractly 
 without reference to particular experience may be considered equivalent 
 to the desired). But not only are A and B unnecessary, they are also 
 untrue ; for in the concrete the desired is not equivalent to the desirable. 
 Either it is false to say that man (that is, all men) desires happiness, or 
 it is false to say that happiness is the desirable. To have a true logical 
 conversion the propositions must be altered thus, ' all men desire pleji- 
 sure, therefore pleasure is the desired,' ' all men ought to desire happi- 
 ness, therefore happiness is the desirable.' 
 
 [The analogy by which Mr Mill supports his argument here deserves 
 attention though it has not been noticed by Prof- Grote. He says (p. 5 1) 
 ' The only proof capable of being given that an object is visible is that 
 people actually see it. The only proof that a sound is audible is that 
 people hear it. In like manner the sole evidence it is possible to pro- 
 duce that any thing is desirable is that people do actually desire it.' But 
 by visible and audible we mean capable of being seen and heard, and in 
 this case the argument holds good ; if an object is seen, it nmst have 
 had the capacity of being seen ; the latter proposition is merely a re- 
 statement of a part of the former. But the word desirable does not 
 mean capable of being desired, but deseiTing to be desired, and in the 
 
66 PROOF OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 I will now discuss Mr Mill's proof of utilitarian- 
 ism more generally, and see what it does seem to 
 prove, if anything. 
 Mr Mill Mr Mill tells us^, that the question concerning 
 
 thf ^8^-^ the summum bonum (or chief good), is the same as 
 tffihe d:- ^^^ question concerning the foundations of morality, 
 timate ^^d no doubt there is truth in this. Only it is to 
 
 question of , / jj • 
 
 morality is bo observod, that when the ultimate re\o<; or jims, 
 mum bo- the guiding principle and aim of human action, is 
 ^fZi!".^^' P^t in the form of the summum honum, a certain de- 
 why might nrree of what mi^fht be called utilitarianism is assumed 
 
 it not be ^ ah it • • • i 
 
 the sum- already. All reasonable action is action to an end 
 '^imdim, or for a purpose : such is the idea of reason as applied 
 ^"*^y^ to action: but the end or purpose need not necessa- 
 rily be something to be attained or gained in the 
 way of possession or enjoyment, which is what is im- 
 plied in the phrase summum honum; it may be some- 
 thing to be done. And in this respect there lies at 
 
 argument, ' an object is desired therefore it is desirable/ the latter pro- 
 position gives a new statement quite independent of that which was con- 
 tained in the former]. 
 
 Happiness then is the desirable. Does it follow that it is the sole 
 end of action ? This is denied in the text ; ' the end need not be some- 
 thing to be attained in the way of enjoyment, it may be something to 
 be done,' 'there may be work for man to do independent of con- 
 scious effort after happiness,' p. 69. Nor again, though it were granted 
 that happiness is the sole end of action, would it therefore follow that the 
 promotion of happiness is the test of all human conduct ; * though action 
 must have an end in order to be reasonable, and our object must be to 
 find the proper end for it, it is not necessary that it should have no 
 value other than what is given it by this end ;' ' to give value to action, 
 goodness in purpose and result is not more required on the one hand 
 than goodness in principle and manner on the other,' (ch. vi.). Promotion 
 of happiness is therefore not the sole criterion of morality, on the con- 
 trary unless the idea of happiness is very carefully defined, it is no cri- 
 terion of morality at all (p. 74). 
 
 The argument which follows, based on Mr Mill's use of the phrase 
 summum honum, seems to me to turn too much upon the particular 
 phrase, which is introduced casually by him, and perhaps not with the 
 same definite meaning which is assigned to it by Prof. Grote. — Ed. 
 
 ^ p. I. 
 
PROOF OF UTILITARIANISM. 67 
 
 the root of morals a difference of view. It may be 
 expressed roughly by saying, that the thing which 
 we are anxious about, the thing which suggests itself 
 to us as of importance, may either be to find our 
 happiness, or to find our proper work. In reflecf- 
 ing upon ourselves, we are aware of ourselves both 
 as active beings, and also as beings susceptible of 
 enjoyment. Now that, on the most abstract view, 
 this latter thing is one thing to be taken account of 
 when we are judging what should be the purpose of 
 human action, there can be no doubt : but the saying, 
 that the question concerning the foundation of morals 
 is the same as that concerning the summum honum, is 
 in fact saying that susceptibility to enjoyment is the 
 only thing which need be taken into account, and 
 this requires proof. Finding ourselves, as we do, 
 born into an existing world of men and state of 
 things, with every reason to believe it to be a por- 
 tion of a wider moral universe of which God is the 
 head, the form in which possibly the moral question 
 may present itself to us may be, What is our part in 
 all this? What is it intended, if we may suppose 
 any meaning or intention in our existence here, that 
 we should do ? This is the idea of action being right 
 or wrong, as distinguished from the idea of it as 
 better or worse, more or less desirable. This is the 
 idea of the summum jus, \he faciendum, the notion of 
 duty, under which the moral question may in some 
 circumstances present itself to us, rather than in the 
 idea of the summum honum, the acquirendum, the 
 notion of happiness. 
 
 I have no wish to deny that possibly, if we could [Limita- 
 look at the very rudiments of things, it might be the wS'if^'' 
 felicijic property of an action, its contributiveness to °^^^^^* ^ 
 the great purpose of universal good, which should be that the 
 taken as the root of its value. Such simple action property of 
 
 5—2 
 
68 PROOF OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 an action for happiness we might consider the action of God : 
 root of its though here we are in a difficulty, because previously 
 to the existence of anything besides Himself, there is 
 beyond Himself no susceptibility of happiness, and 
 ^fter the commencement of other things there is al- 
 ready something besides simple happiness to be taken 
 account of, namely, the distribution of happiness; 
 that is, there has already begun the idea of duty, of 
 something which ought to be done rather than some- 
 thing else. I will not dwell on this now^ 
 
 But in regard to man, though the idea of the 
 summum boniim, the absolute dyadov, the good or 
 desirable, is doubtless a great and leading one, yet 
 even the very rudimentary and imperfect, the vague 
 and indefinite, utihtarianism, which is implied in say- 
 ing that it is the idea of morality, that into which 
 others will resolve themselves, requires proof; and in 
 proving, as he considers he does, utilitarianism to be 
 true, all that Mr Mill even makes a show of proving 
 is this, which he had previously assumed : and whether 
 he does prove even this, we shall see. 
 In this as- What Mr Mill proves, in the place where he con- 
 M^Mur siders that he is proving utilitarianism to be the real 
 assumes and ouly moral philosophy, (so far as anything of the 
 more than sort is Capable of proof,) seems to me to be only that 
 he'al- ^^ nien desire happiness or what is pleasant, or, in other 
 pr'^veafter- ^^^^^^ that it is happiucss that is desirable. Now 
 wards. this is what no one doubts and what needs no prov- 
 ing, as indeed Mr Mill's proof of it is simple enough, 
 consisting of hardly more than statement of it : the 
 various terms here used, independently of the follow- 
 ing them out into details and particulars, may be 
 considered as all meaning the same thing : the to 
 
 ^ See this more fully and somewhat differently treated in the 
 Appendix to this chapter, and compare also Ch. vi. — Ed. 
 
PROOF OF UTILITARIANISM. 69 
 
 dyaOov, or what is a good to us, is simply the desired 
 and desirable : in speaking of the need, for morality, 
 of knowing what is the summum bonum, Mr Mill had 
 already assumed all he proves here. In fact he had 
 assumed more. For though he may prove that hap- 
 piness is all that men desire, he does not prove that 
 it is all that they think about, or that nothing but 
 what they desire is of importance to them. As I 
 have said, it is a thing which may very well suggest 
 itself to people, and I believe sometimes does, that 
 there may be work, business, duty, whatever we may 
 call it, for them to do independent of conscious effort 
 after any happiness, and Mr Mill has not proved that 
 utilitarianism even in this rudimentary form is the 
 only moral philosophy, or that the summum bonum is 
 all that men need think of, till he has proved not 
 only, as he does, that men desire happiness, and 
 nothing else but happiness, but also that it is nothing 
 else but what they desire that they need take any 
 moral account of 
 
 But next, supposing even that this very rudiment- ^^^n if we 
 ary utilitarianism were proved, and that we might to have 
 assume it as a principle of ethics, that all we had to happ? * * 
 
 seek for was man's real happiness, and that we might ^^J^^^ ^°J® ^ 
 dismiss from our mind all consideration of there beincf morality, 
 
 still there 
 
 possibly an dvOpcoinvov epyov, a proper work or duty is nothing 
 of man ; (and doubtless if we are sure of man's real Hze the'^in- 
 happiness, we have his work given to us, in the same ^^f !^^rd 
 manner as if we knew his work, we should have his 'general' 
 happiness given) ; we must consider how far the « happi. 
 proof will carry us, for it is but a very little way. In ^^^' 
 Mr Mill's proof, if the reader will watch the third 
 paragraph of the fourth chapter, he will see that the 
 important word ^general' before 'happiness,' which, to 
 use Mr Mill's former language, is the specially moral- 
 izing word, comes in without anything in the proof 
 
70 PROOF OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 to authorize it. Mr Mill's proof of utilitarianism is 
 in fact simply showing that the desire of happiness is 
 natural to man ; but so he tells us in the passage I 
 first quoted that resentment is natural to man. As 
 he shows us in that place how resentment is 'moral- 
 ized'; so and by a similar method the natural desire 
 of happiness admits and needs 'moralizing': the 
 natural desire is not of the general happiness in the 
 first instance, till social feelings and moral teaching 
 have had time to work, and this working is the mo- 
 ralizing of this latter feeling in the same way as 
 Heentireiy the othor was moralized. ' Each person's happiness/ 
 shew that says Mr Mill, 'is a good to that person, and the 
 tate^w" general happiness, therefore, a good to the aggregate 
 pinessis Qf all persons^' We are talking^ here of 'a g^ood' as 
 
 naturally i/» 'ji i- ' ^ 
 
 desired by au ' oud of actiou *. let US substitute the equivalent 
 duai^of the term, and the argument then will be that as each 
 aggregate, j^^^^ happiuoss is 'the end of action' to him, so the 
 general happiness is 'the end of action' to the aggre- 
 gate. Except so far as ' the aggregate ' can act, this 
 latter clause is unmeaning. But Mr Mill seems to 
 consider that he has proved that, in the same natural 
 
 ^ Util. p. 52. Mr Mill's argument is really an instance of the 'fallacy 
 of composition/ in which the word all is used at one time distributively, at 
 another time collectively. Thus: each human being A, B, C, &c. naturally 
 desires his own happiness ; but A, B, C, &c. make up all human beings, 
 and the happiness of A, B, C, &c. makes up the happiness of all human 
 beings; therefore every human being naturally desires the happiness of 
 all human beings. Taking it out of the abstract the proposition becomes 
 still more glaringly untenable. Two men place their happiness in the 
 exclusive possession of the same thing, a third places his happiness in 
 the positive unhappiness of one who, he thinks, has wronged him. Thus 
 the resultant of several (or all) men's individual happiness might well be 
 the general unhappiness. 
 
 The fact is, this is an attempt on the part of the utilitarians to 
 extend to morality the principle, true under certain limitations in 
 political economy, that the public wealth is best promoted by each 
 man's aiming at his own private wealth and occupying himself exclu- 
 sively with that. — Ed. 
 
PROOF OF UTILITARIANISM. 7I 
 
 manner in which a man's happiness is an end to him, 
 the aggregate happiness is an end to each individual 
 of the aggregate. Mr Mill in other places, as we 
 have seen, shows most admirably how it may become 
 so: but if his proof here had held good, there would 
 have been no need to show this; what I have called 
 his 'societarianism' would have been superfluous. 
 
 In reality, ethical science does not seem, in this He con- 
 capital point of the relation of the individual or por- gether par- 
 tion to the aggregate or whole, to have got beyond general ^L 
 the point at which Plato set it, and somethinsr of the ^^^^f^ f^^ 
 
 ^ . . evades the 
 
 so-called progress of it consists in evading the diffi- real diffi- 
 culty which he endeavoured to face. The general morlis, 
 interest and the action for that on the one side are makl'the*** 
 not like the individual interest and the action for it general in. 
 
 terest im- 
 
 on the other, a single object commending itself to a press itself 
 single will. There is an analogy, and it is better to partkuiar 
 exhibit the analogy, even with risk of mistake in the ^'"^' 
 details, as Plato does, than to confound together two 
 essentially different things, as I think Mr Mill does. 
 Justice in 'the aggregate' is analogous to self-con- 
 trol in the individual : but the analogy is complicated. 
 In the individual considered by himself there is a 
 simple or uniform generating of force, and there is 
 correspondingly a simple or uniform object which 
 prudence has in view in controlling and directing 
 that force, viz. the individual's happiness. Within 
 ' the aggregate ' there is a multitude of separate and 
 independent sources or genera tings of force, which 
 have each a double object exhibiting itself to them, 
 viz. the particular or individual interest as described 
 above, which is different for each such spring of 
 force, and the aggregate interest, which is the same 
 for all. The purpose of ethics is to make this general 
 interest impress itself upon the particular wills, (which 
 are what really act,) as the proper object of their 
 
72 PROOF OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 action, to the limitation (at least) of the particular in- 
 terests. * Each person's happiness,' Mr Mill rightly 
 says, 'is a good to each,' and he draws from this a 
 conclusion which seems to me of very little signifi- 
 cance : the real point of morals, which utilitarianism 
 evades, is the knowing how to meet any one who 
 concludes thus. Since then it is my happiness that is 
 the good to me, it is not the general happiness that 
 is so, and there is no reason that / at least should 
 act for that. The more a man's particular happiness 
 appears a good to him, the more it is likely to en- 
 gross his action, and the less he is likely to think of 
 the happiness of the aggregate. 
 The vague I said that the various terms, happiness, the de- 
 word 'hap- sirable, the pleasant, &c., might all be considered as 
 thrprooAs nieaning the same thing, independently of the carry- 
 int°with ^^^ them out into particulars. And as soon as they 
 the pre- are carried out into particulars, the proof will hold 
 (which no longer. It appears to me that there is an incon- 
 ^uivaient sistcucy bctweeu what Mr Mill says in his second 
 
 to felt plea- chapter, where he follows the Epicureans in develop- 
 sure), and ^ i ' ^ ... 
 
 it is not ing the idea of happiness into definite, measurable, 
 
 would describable pleasure, to be tested by experience, 
 
 by the^id ^^^ what he says in the fourth chapter, where he 
 
 utiiita- ig proving that happiness is the only thing which 
 
 men desire, because other things, such as virtue, 
 
 which they may desire, and which appear different 
 
 from happiness, are really, if only men desire 
 
 them, a part of their happiness ^ If happiness is to 
 
 be kept in this latter generality, which is necessary 
 
 for Mr Mill's object in the fourth chapter, it must 
 
 not, as in the second, be made convertible with felt 
 
 pleasure. If happiness is to include virtue for other 
 
 reasons than that virtue is a cause of pleasure, we 
 
 must not resolve happiness into pleasure. But Mr 
 
 1 Util p. 52. 
 
PROOF OF UTILITARIANISM. 73 
 
 Mill tries to prove in the fourth chapter that the 
 love of virtue for its own sake, i. e. not on account 
 of pleasure anticipated from it, is not inconsistent 
 with utilitarianism. In reality, if happiness is * the 
 desirable,' then the notion of it is vague and indefi- 
 nite, of great importance indeed to the guidance 
 of action, but what cannot by any means, of itself, 
 furnish a practical principle for this. We have then 
 only a philosophic utilitarianism, " true and lofty in 
 its way and sphere, but not fruitful, and wrong if 
 brought out of its sphere. On the other hand if^ 
 happiness is pleasure, then either virtue has nothing 
 in it of itself desirable, or else it is simply a modej 
 of pleasure. This latter is what has been hitherto 
 understood as utilitarianism : Bentham's account of 
 virtue is, * Virtue is the sacrifice of a smaller to a 
 greater interest — of a momentary to a permanent 
 interest — of a doubtful to a certain interest. Every 
 idea of virtue, which is not derived from this notion, 
 is as obscure as the motive to it is precarious \' I 
 need not explain how with Bentham the notion of 
 interest depends on that of pleasure. 
 
 In order then for the jproof which Mr Mill gives indeed it is 
 of utilitarianism to hold to any purpose at all, we thaTh"^ 
 must consider happiness in a very wide view, as ^^p?^^ 
 being substantially coextensive with the desirable, or r^iie for 
 as meaning little more than the end of action in ge- 
 neral. In this view, all action is meant to tend to 
 happiness, i.e. is meant rightly , so far as Mr Mill's 
 account of right and wrong goes here. The most 
 cruel actions would not be done unless the doing of 
 them was desired by the doer, unless, that is, they 
 gave him, or were supposed by him likely to give 
 him, happiness of this kind. And in the same way 
 as all actions aim in this way at happiness, and 
 
 ^ Pr. of Mor. and Leg. cb. ii. 
 
74 PROOF OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 therefore are meant rightly; so in a complicated state 
 of relations among acting beings, such as is the state 
 of man on earth, it is probable that the great ma- 
 jority of actions do actually produce happiness of 
 some kind to somebody, and therefore are right: it 
 is an ill wind which blows nobody any good: one 
 person's loss is constantly another's gain. 
 But if the But when we speak of happiness as being the one 
 quSity of thing valuable as an end of action, in such a way 
 todeter^'^^^^^ ^® may considcr the true comparative value of 
 mine its actious to rosido in their beins: more or less what I 
 
 value, hu- . . . . , ^ 
 
 man hap- havo Called feliciJiG\ it is evident that we must have 
 beTdX^ a different idea of happiness from this, that anything 
 Scerttin? ^^^i^h a man desires is (so far as it goes) his happi- 
 ed from the ness. As soou as we besfin to form the idea of hap- 
 
 study of . . ^ ^ 
 
 human pmcss bciug what IS valuable to a man, we must 
 na ure. (j].Qp more or less the idea of its being merely that 
 which pleases him. That is, we must take away from 
 him that sort of simple immediate judgment which 
 goes with the terms desire or pleasure : we must ad- 
 mit the notion of there being something which ought 
 to be a man's happiness : we must consider his hap- 
 piness, so to speak, as a function of his nature, as 
 something which bears a fixed relation to other 
 things which we may also take into our moral ac- 
 count, such for instance as his proper work or busi- 
 ness, his natural manner of action, &c. Human 
 happiness, to be valuable, must be a definite thing, 
 which we must know (so far as we can know it) 
 from knowledge of human nature. 
 otherwise That actious toud to promote happiness, then, 
 th^Xo-^" luay be the thing, and the one thing, which makes 
 condSe- ^^^^ good or morally valuable, under the following 
 ness to en- circumstaucos : either absolutely (if Mr Mansel will 
 
 joyment ^. ..^ ., 
 
 makes an allow the word), that IS, II we consider things in a 
 
 ' p. 67. 
 
PROOF OF UTILITARIANISM. 75 
 
 way abstracted from particular circumstance, as if action 
 we chose to consider what might influence God in good, and 
 creation; or in apphcation to circumstance, if only fuJeprin" 
 we take proper account of all the circumstances, as, ^^^^i^^^^* 
 for instance, supposing it is human action and human summarily 
 happiness which Y\'e are speaking of, if we form ourlntnom- 
 views upon that sort of study of the nature of man, Euman^ufe. 
 which alone can enable us to know what properly is 
 his happiness. Man's happiness bears a relation to 
 a great many other things about him, just as they 
 likewise bear a relation to it; and just also as in 
 an organized being the foot is related to the head, 
 and the manner of walking or of eating to both. 
 And the absolute principle, (which may very likely 
 be true,) that it is the more or less conduciveness to 
 good in general, as matter of enjoyment j which makes 
 that difference between actions which we call their 
 being more or less good, as something to be done, 
 must not be summarily imported into the midst of 
 complicated human life, and applied to complicated 
 human nature. 
 
 Something like what I have been saying here We must 
 would probably be felt by most persons reading atten- ^^^^ ^* 
 tively the passages which I have quoted from Mr Mill, ^^ppi^esa 
 
 J iT o ^ T. J and whose 
 
 and would be expressed in various ways more simply happiness 
 
 . is spoken 
 
 than I have done it. They would say perhaps. Doubt- of, 
 less an action which tends to promote no happiness 
 of anybody cannot be considered of any value, and 
 therefore perhaps cannot be called right, and an action 
 which tends to produce the reverse of happiness is, so 
 far as this feature of it goes, wrong: but you do not 
 mean to say that actions (such actions I mean as are 
 done concretely, in this world of ours) are right in 
 proportion as they tend to produce any happiness of 
 anybody: we must surely be told what sort of happi- 
 ness, and still more whose happiness, in order for this 
 
76 PROOF OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 to be accepted as any description of right and wrong 
 at all. For men have different interests: what is 
 the loss of one, as I have said, is constantly another's 
 gain. 
 before we To uso still Mr MilFs language with which I first 
 that con- began: an action's being for happiness, rather than 
 to"happr^ the reverse, may be considered to moralize it to a 
 rzeThiman ^^^^^^^ oxtcnt, and in the general or absolute view of 
 action. action, in the manner which I have mentioned : but 
 what is required more really to moralize it for human 
 practice and for our moral philosophy is the conside- 
 ration ivhat sort o/* happiness and whose happiness we 
 are speaking of. To make this at all a fit description 
 of right and wrong, we must add here to the word 
 'happiness' various epithets: we must speak of real, 
 true, proper happiness, to make certain we do not 
 mean mere occasional pleasure : and we must speak 
 of general or social happiness, to make certain we do 
 not mean merely our own. 
 Mr Mill's In explaining the sort ()/* happiness which he means, 
 tion of ac- Mr Mill, as we have seen, identifies^ the utilitarianism 
 entirely which hc profosscs with the old Epicureanism. The 
 Epicurean! i*eader cau hardly fail to remark, that the philosophy 
 ^Trt°^°^^ which specially belongs to him, and the utilitarianism 
 ism, which which he professes and defends, will not really weld 
 es^to^de^.^^ together. The idea of conduciveness to good or hap- 
 fend. piness giving to actions a character of what we may 
 call rightness, or of being what should be done, an 
 idea which in its sphere is both true and noble, is 
 something entirely alien from and above both Epi- 
 cureanism and much of the old utilitarianism. The 
 Epicurean creed holds in regard to actions (saying 
 nothing of right or wrong) that, if we are wise, we 
 shall do them in proportion as they tend to promote 
 our own happiness, and shall not do them in propor- 
 ^ See above, p. i6. 
 
PROOF OP UTILITARIANISM. 77 
 
 tion as they have the opposite tendency : and happi- 
 ness it explains as definite pleasure. This theory 
 need not be immoral or unphilanthropic, for Epi- 
 cureans have always considered that they could prove 
 that the aiding the happiness of others was a great 
 means of aiding our own. But it is pleasure, and 
 our own pleasure, that everything in it rests upon. 
 Mr Mill, as I have said, does not till later explain 
 whose happiness he is speaking of, in the formula^ 
 describing utilitarianism. This leaves room for a 
 possible misapprehension. Mr Mill does not, as 
 clearly as he might, convey to the reader that the 
 Epicurean or quasi-Epicurean^ doctrines which have 
 been called worthy of swine and considered degrading 
 to human nature have always prominently put for- 
 ward our own pleasure in the first place, and have not 
 been able, philosophically, to give us any other reason 
 for our acting to the happiness of others, except that 
 we may find it the best way to our own. The doctrine 
 which has been called mean and grovelling has gene- 
 rally been not merely ' that life has had no higher 
 end than pleasure/ but no higher end than ' our own' 
 pleasure. 
 
 But passing from this to what Mr Mill says indeed his 
 about ' pleasure,' simply, (no matter whose) he seems defence^is 
 to me rather what I should call struggling with his abandon- 
 professed utilitarianism than defending it. I am not ^ept of 
 myself fond of positive language, nor indisposed to ism. 
 sympathize with qualified defence, but really I hardly 
 see the use of defending Epicureanism or utilita- 
 rianism at all, when it has to be done with so many 
 admissions and reservations as Mr Mill makes here. 
 They follow one upon another, and there is a sort of 
 oscillation in the nth page which seems to leave the 
 opponents of Epicureanism or utilitarianism in posses- 
 
 ^ Quoted p. 29. '^ See above, p. 19. 
 
 Mcurean- 
 
78 PROOF OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 sion of almost the whole of their case. It appears 
 that Epicureanism will not do without many Stoic 
 and Christian elements: that utilitarian writers in 
 general have not rightly conceived the superiority of 
 mental pleasures to bodily : that they might with ad- 
 vantage have said something quite the opposite of 
 that which they have said, and which Mr Mill now 
 proceeds to say for them. No doubt it is wise to 
 learn from enemies, and never too late to mend : but 
 I should have thought, in the interests of moral 
 science (and that is the main reason why I have 
 written the present essay), that it would be better for 
 the reformed utilitarianism to take a fresh start 
 under a new name, or at least to drop the old. 
 
 I am afraid this chapter is not in all particulars 
 clear. But the attempt to exhibit, as I have wished 
 to do, the relation of Mr Mill's proof to that utilita- 
 rianism (so to call it) which almost all philosophers 
 admit, and also to his own utilitarianism, is of ne- 
 cessity a proceeding difficult and complicated. 
 
APPENDIX TO CHAPTER IV/ 
 
 The Utilitaeianism which is common to all Moral 
 Philosophy. 
 
 In what I have written, I have had in some respects the 
 same object in view as Mr Mill in his papers which I have 
 commented on. I do not wish to say anything against a 
 real and worthy happiness-philosophy or eudaemonism (to 
 use unsatisfactory words in default of better), and in so far 
 as Mr Mill in any degree sketches such a philosophy as this, 
 and tries to raise the old utilitarianism towards it, I sympa- 
 thize with him. But in so far as he identifies himself with 
 the particulars of the old utilitarianism, and would persuade 
 us that here lies the moral road which experience and im- 
 proved knowledge of philosophic method now point out to 
 us, I differ from him in every possible way. 
 
 Mr Mill has remarked^, that an assumption, more or less, Autilita- 
 of what he calls utilitarianism underlies all moral philoso- "h?chun- 
 phy; he might have said, all thought about human action, derlies all 
 He concludes from this that utilitarianism is the right phi- j^g^pi^y ^' 
 losophy; with equal reason it might have been concluded, cannot be _. 
 that utilitarianism, so far as it is right, is not condemna- the secta- 
 tory of various other philosophies which Mr Mill's utilita- "an utiii- 
 rianism condemns, but readily associates and incorporates 
 
 1 The following paragraphs may be regarded as a commentary on 
 Mr Mill's words, 'If it be a true belief that God desires above all 
 things the happiness of his creatures, and that this was his purpose in 
 their creation, utility is not only not a godless doctrine, but more pro- 
 foundly religious than any other.' Util. p. 30. In the Author's MS. they 
 formed part of Ch. xii. on Moral Imperativeness. It appeared to me 
 that they would be more appropriately introduced here as an Appendix 
 to Ch. IV.— Ed. 
 
8o THE UTILITARIANISM WHICH IS COMMON 
 
 itself with them. Such right utilitarianism then must be 
 
 very different from the utilitarian sectarianism, which it is 
 
 the object of his papers to praise. Let us try and see what 
 
 this right utilitarianism is. 
 
 The as- The Utilitarian assumption made by all moral philosophy 
 
 of ^is non- is in two stcps ; the first, that all reasonable action is aimed 
 
 sectarian at good, the next, that by good here must be meant, in one 
 
 utilitarian- , , i • > • , t . 
 
 ism are (i) way or another, some bemgs enjoyment. Let us suppose 
 that all all this, and let us even go further, and say that 'good', adjec- 
 action is tive, in application to moral beings, means desirous of 'good', 
 aimed at substantive, .or desirous to produce happiness, (carefully dis- 
 that'good' tinguishing this, as we must, from, the desire of self-enjoy- 
 here means jnent, which no One could consider of itself goodness). Let 
 ' us then imagine, in so far as we may be able to do so, the 
 mind of the Creator of the world: either in the sort of way 
 in which Plato in the Timaeus^ imagines how He, being 
 Himself good, made the world in such and such a manner 
 according to His goodness: or as the Bible speaks of God 
 looking on what He had made, and behold, it was very good. 
 Granting Even if we suppose goodness, in this abstract and primary 
 
 sturwe ^'^^^ ^^ i^' ^^ ^® determined entirely by reference to conside- 
 even in the rations of enjoyment, so that when it is said that what God 
 SractVew ^^^ made is recognized by Him as good, it is meant that it is 
 something understood as adapted to the enjoyment of man or other 
 vahiable^ Sentient beings: even if we suppose this, we have already 
 besides en- one thing originally valuable besides that enjoyment, name- 
 \dz."the ' ^7' goodness in the Creator, or the desire on the part of the 
 Creator's Creator to produce enjoyment. Had there not been in Him 
 preduce^ this goodness, there would have existed no happiness besides 
 enjoyment. His own. How this is the case, may be seen by comparing 
 the Epicurean utilitarianism, which is the basis of Paley's 
 Moral Philosophy, with the notion of the independent good- 
 ness of God, which belongs to his Natural Theology. Were 
 God to have had no other sort of goodness than that which 
 Paley considers the only meaning of goodness or virtue as 
 applicable to man, namely, the doing good for the sake of 
 happiness (and that extraneous, not involved in the action) 
 to result to the doer, it is hard to understand why anything 
 should ever have been created, or why God should be called 
 good rather than otherwise. 
 
 1 Plato, Tim. p. 29. 
 
TO ALL MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 8 1 
 
 If then we are to go back to the origin of things, if we are ^ similar 
 to suppose a Creator in original Almighty solitude, we must men sug- 
 suppose also, in order for a world to arise, not only the pos- p^^ ^. . 
 
 •1 •!• /.I • . .11 • 1 • 1 truerongin 
 
 sibihty of happiness m possible sentient beings, but the of moral 
 existence of goodness in Him to make Him take pleasure in !r^^"fj^ . 
 the production of such happiness. And surely, if the word desire of 
 good, adjective, has any meaning, this goodness itself was eniovment 
 good, independent of any actual production of happiness, 
 and before such happiness existed. It was something of 
 itself morally valuable, worthy of admiration and of love, had 
 beings existed for such feelings. If it was happiness only that 
 was of this original value, we might well suppose God taking 
 pleasure simply in his own happiness : but there was original 
 value also in the disposition to produce happiness beyond the 
 agent's own, and this God must have had in Himself, quite 
 independently of His possessing, and simply valuing, happi- 
 ness. And why, when we are deducing the genealogy of 
 moral feeling, should we draw its descent from value for hap- 
 piness alone, rather than from this independent and original 
 goodness, in which we might suppose men might, at least in 
 some small degree, resemble God? To return to Paley; why 
 should we, like him, suppose an independent goodness in 
 God, and yet be able to conceive nothing as even desirable 
 for man except a merely selfish virtue, or a value for happiness 
 unassociated with such independent goodness? And why 
 such pains on the part of Mr Mill to make his philosophy 
 take its foundation and its name from the fact about it that 
 it preeminently values happiness, rather than from the 
 equally important fact, (also belonging to it, as I am fully 
 ready to acknowledge, in its development as distinguished 
 from its professed principle) that, in a moral point of view, it 
 is the general happiness or the happiness of others which it 
 values, as distinguished from our own ? Why must it be 
 called utilitarianism, and' deduce itself from Epicurus, rather 
 than philanthropy, and deduce itself from the Gospel, and 
 from such disposition as there is in man to go beyond his 
 own pleasure ? 
 
 In bringing out that the idea of happiness is the Mr Mill's 
 source and origin of all reasonable movement and the key ha^pp^ness 
 to explain it, Mr Mill does somewhat as Plato ^ does, as the 
 
 source of 
 ^ Bpp. VI. 505. 
 
 6 
 
82 THE UTILITARIANISM WHICH IS COMMON 
 
 ^k/^^^f-^' when he says, that nothing else can throw true light upon 
 (like the darkness of our ignorance as to the reality of things, 
 
 Tdea'of Gxcept the idea of the good they are made for, the purpose 
 Good) they are to serve, the use of them, if so we like to call it. 
 educed ^^ The action of the Creator would not have been reason- 
 from the able, had it not been with a view to good and happiness. 
 ^^rJl^..^ But Mr Mill's mistake consists in his failure to distin- 
 
 Sit 6 OX OliP 
 
 own happi- guish between that desire to produce happiness, (independ- 
 ^^^^* ently of thought of enjoyment for ourselves) which is good- 
 
 ness, and that simple tendency to, or desire of, our own 
 enjoyment, which we must consider to be a character of sen- 
 tience in general: or, which is much the same thing, he has 
 considered without ground that the latter would of itself 
 develope itself into the former. But if it does so develope 
 itself, then there must be something which determines it this 
 way rather than the other: and it is then this something 
 which answers to what I have called goodness. 
 
 If we suppose then that the spring of all reasonable 
 action is some happiness aimed at, moral philosophy begins 
 when, passing beyond the principle of mere utilitarianism, 
 we disengage the idea of goodness, that is, of the desire of 
 producing happiness independent of that desire of feeling it 
 which we cannot be without. 
 
 Even this idea of goodness, as I have said, goes beyond 
 the principle of utilitarianism : but does it, of itself, give us 
 the root of all morality ? Let us see. 
 Besides ^g^ if ^fQ imagine the Creator before anything was 
 
 tor's good- created, we are led to think, even in respect to Him, of 
 ness we something which should be done or an ideal of action, and 
 cognise the Call Him good on account of His disposition towards this ; so 
 Creator's g^in more, if we imagine Him after creation, we find the no- 
 not only tion of tliis goodness enlarged, and new particulars added to 
 seeks to j^^ j^qj, ^]^q Conditions which it has pleased the Creator to 
 
 produce .... 
 
 happiness give to His Creation impose on Himself a moral law after- 
 trib^t*^'^ wards in reference to it. This is justice, as distinguished 
 that happi- from simple goodness. It is the regulation of the desire 
 cord'n°" t ^^ produce happiness, the distribution, as I have phrased 
 certain it, of the action arising from this desire. As no action is 
 laws. reasonable, in the manner which we have seen, except such 
 as is directed to a purpose, and the ultimate purpose of all 
 action must be some enjoyment'; so no action is reasonable, 
 
TO ALL MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 83 
 
 in another manner, except such as is properly regulated and 
 distributed, in every case where there are a variety of claims 
 upon it or of sentient beings whom it may affect. This is 
 law: in creating sentient beings, the Creator must be con- 
 ceived as having created, in accordance with His own cha- 
 racter, a moral law, to which He Himself is obedient as well 
 as they, and in respect of which He is in society with them. 
 Here then we have to go beyond considerations of utilitarian- 
 ism, even the very highest, and to consider the independent 
 valuableness, not only of happiness itself and of the good- 
 ness which aims at producing it, but of the justness and fair- 
 ness which guides and regulates such aim. 
 
 And yet there is another thing. Goodness and happiness, Yet again, 
 and these closely connected together, must be considered ori- tor desires 
 ginal characters of the Creator. And since the created world to produce, 
 is made up of sentient beings of all kinds, some (of whom is ness sim- 
 man) imaginative and self-improvable, and with a strong de- P^y* ^"* * 
 sire of such improvement, must it not be a necessary part of happiness 
 the goodness of the Creator, that the happiness which it ^^^^ ^'^ 
 aims to produce should be a happiness like His own, of 
 which goodness, or the disposition to promote the happiness 
 of others, should be a portion ? But here we come to that 
 other consideration which, even in the very highest region of 
 thought, must introduce itself along with utilitarianism ; and 
 we must say that the divine goodness is a desire not simply 
 to produce happiness, but to produce a worthy and good 
 happiness, a happiness, more or less, like that of the Creator 
 Himself Here then we plainly have, as I have said, some- 
 thing recognised as of value besides the happiness or enjoy- 
 ment itself. What is it then that thus, distinct from dura- 
 tion and intensity of enjoyment, makes one sort of happiness 
 more desirable, worthier, worth more, than another? It is 
 possible that we cannot distinctly tell : we use various meta- 
 phors in speaking about it, most commonly such phrases as 
 'high' and 'low': we may conceive this scale as graduated by 
 the more or less resemblance to what we may imagine the 
 divine happiness, or as more or less rising above the happi- 
 ness of the inferior animals, or in various other ways : it is a 
 third dimension of happiness besides intensity and duration, 
 and far the most important of the three. I have before re- 
 marked on Mr Mill's observations as to quality of happiness, 
 
 G— 2 
 
84 THE UTILITARIANISM, &C. 
 
 which phrase does, to a certain degree, recognise what I am 
 now speaking of. 
 Utilitari- I have endeavoured to consider here to what extent, and 
 
 really ^^ ^^*^ ^^^* qualifications, the simply felicific feeling, or the 
 based on desire to produce happiness, may be considered to represent 
 assutm-^^^^^ that we mean by goodness. It will be said that the 
 tions we region of abstract and imaginative speculation to which these 
 sidered '^ discussious belong, is very different from that practical region 
 and has no in which Utilitarianism delights to move. But in reality, 
 called in- ^ what utilitarianism does in this respect is that which is done 
 ductive. by the greater part of bad philosophy or, what is nearly the 
 same thing, self-styled common sense. It assumes as self- 
 evident, and as matter of common sense, a principle really 
 belonging to the a priori region, forbidding however any 
 entrance into this region to examine the principle, and 
 giving out that it is not a priori, but belonging to ex- 
 perience. Meanwhile in its own region it has a certain 
 degree of truth which commends it, and which is made, 
 in default of further examination, to stand for complete 
 truth. So it is in regard to the principle that all that is 
 morally valuable is the production of happiness, and that 
 all moral goodness is the desire to produce happiness: it 
 is quite out of the region of experience, being very abstract 
 and a priori; if its truth is to be tested at all, it must be in 
 a region of abstract thought: experience may tell us what 
 man desires, but no possible experience can tell us what 
 goodness is, or as I have expressed it, what man should do. 
 And yet utilitarianism, while quietly assuming the principle 
 that man's goodness, what he should do, is simply the pro- 
 motion of happiness, calls itself Kar t^o-^rjv the morality of 
 experience and induction, as though it were a principle prov- 
 able and proved by experience. It brings what in its own 
 region has a qualified truth into a region where it has none 
 at all, and thus misleads entirely. 
 
CHAPTEE V. 
 
 ON THE DISTRIBUTION OF ACTION FOR HAPPINESS. 
 
 It is the individual who feels and acts : it is he who The term 
 seeks for the mmmum honum: it is his summum -^^^^^^^ 
 bonum or ideal welfare which is sought for : it is he f^^^^j^fg^^J^^jg 
 also who, as matter of fact, desires that which istuiwe 
 pleasant, that namely which is pleasant to him. This, whose 
 as an idea or notion, is not the same as the abstractly, ig^meTnt! 
 or as the generally, desirable. We cannot practically 
 speak about happiness without considering whose hap- 
 piness it is we mean. The design of the present 
 chapter is to examine the language of Mr Mill on 
 this subject, to which some slight allusion has been 
 made in the last chapter. 
 
 I hope the reader has not forgotten the utilitarian 
 formula which I quoted some time since from Mr Mill', 
 viz. ^ that actions are right in proportion as they tend 
 to promote happiness, and wrong as they do the 
 reverse.' This to me immediately suggests the ques- 
 tion, What sort of happiness? and still more, 
 'Whose happiness?' On this latter question I will 
 speak now. 
 
 It is not distinctly stated at first, whose happiness Mr Mm 
 is meant in the above formula. It occurs some time waTe^8%"ora 
 after, in p. i6 : and that in such a manner as almost ^^^J^^^p- 
 to make one think that, in the Epicurean reasonings the agent/ 
 ^ See above, p. 29. 
 
86 THE DISTRIBUTION OF ACTION FOR HAPPINESS. 
 
 to the which he had been srivinsf, Mr Mill had himself been 
 
 'happiness . .ii. ii -ii 
 
 of all.' under the impression that his words naturally pointed 
 to our own happiness. After mentioning something 
 as, I suppose, in some sort a condition to the accept- 
 ance of the utilitarian standard, he goes on, ' but it is 
 by no means an indispensable condition, for' (as we 
 now hear for the first time) ' the utilitarian standard 
 is not the agent's own greatest happiness, but the 
 greatest amount of happiness altogether.' This ob- 
 servation he repeats and developes in a passage so 
 important, that though long, I must quote it^: 
 
 ' I must- again repeat, what the opponents of 
 utilitarianism seldom have the justice to acknowledge, 
 that the happiness which forms the utihtarian stand- 
 ard of what is right in conduct, is not the agent's own 
 happiness, but the happiness of all concerned. As 
 between his own happiness and that of others, utilita- 
 rianism requires him to be as strictly impartial as a 
 disinterested and benevolent spectator. In the golden 
 rule of Jesus of Nazareth, we read the complete 
 spirit of the ethics of utility. To do as you would be 
 done by, and to love your neighbour as yourself, 
 constitute the ideal perfection of utilitarian morality.' 
 But this Now here it really seems to me hard upon the op- 
 
 of the utiii- ponents of utilitarianism that they are blamed for un- 
 muia°doTs fairness in not acknowledging a thing which only 
 the chlr^t^ ^^^^^ up in the indirect manner in which we have 
 of selfish- seen it does in Mr Mill, a thing moreover which 
 (i) there is scarcoly seems to suggest itself from the utilitarian 
 authorfze^ formula immediately to himself. No doubt if as- 
 it, and (2) gailauts have charpfed utilitarianism with exhibitino- 
 
 it IS mcon- cD ... ^ 
 
 sistentwith sclfishuess as the rule of conduct in which its teachinor 
 
 Mr Mill's . . . ^ 
 
 own proof, finally results, it is so far a calumny. But in reality 
 scarcely any system of morality has ever had this 
 charge made against it. Rather it has been made 
 
 1 p. 24. 
 
THE DISTRIBUTION OF ACTION FOR HAPPINESS. 8/ 
 
 a charge against all systems of morality that the pre- 
 cepts of life in which their different teachings result 
 are the same, from which it has been concluded by 
 some that the previous difference of opinion and con- 
 troversy about the principles and system must have 
 been useless and idle. In all systems of morality 
 alike, what is put forward as right and commendable 
 is some form of public spirit as against selfishness. 
 When a system is called selfish, what is meant is that 
 the foundation of it is laid on a supposition of self- 
 ishness, in such a manner that, in the opinion of 
 those who disapprove it, the public spirit which is 
 taught as the conclusion does not properly follow 
 from the selfishness which is supposed as the premiss. 
 And Mr Mill must also remember that, in his proof 
 of utilitarianism, he does not at all prove it in the 
 sense and to the extent which he would here give to 
 it. For happiness there is considered as identical 
 with Hhe desirable,' and this, however when moral- 
 ized (in Mr Mill's language) it may include whatever 
 is desired by all or any, is of course, in the first 
 instance and as natural, simply what is desired by 
 the person desiring, that is, by ourselves. But Mr 
 Mill here throws off from utilitarianism its Epicurean 
 garb, with blame to its adversaries again (we saw 
 another instance of such blame before) for even 
 supposing it had one. Let us see what he gives us 
 instead. 
 
 I have said that an action which can be shown to be The piu- 
 productive of no happiness to anybody, if such an daims^de- 
 action is possible, is wasted, and therefore wrong: and "^me^j , 
 under certain circumstances, actions productive of more cipie to 
 happiness (speaking abstractly of happiness without the distri- 
 consideration whose it is) are of more moral value, action for 
 that is, are better, than those which are productive of ^*pp"^®««- 
 less happiness. But it is only thus far that the prin- 
 
83 THE DISTRIBUTION OF ACTION FOR HAPPINESS. 
 
 ciple, which utilitarianism would make the sole one, 
 is in respect to human action of moral importance. 
 For to say that for human estimation an action is the 
 better simply the more happiness it produces (sup- 
 posing the phrase can be used with any significance,) 
 will not do. Our actions concern individuals (in- 
 cluding ourselves) bearing all sorts of relations with 
 each other and with different and contending in- 
 terests. We have got to consider therefore not only 
 the direction of our action to the production of hap- 
 piness, but the distribution of our action among the 
 different happinesses or susceptibilities of pleasure 
 towards which it may be directed. And this distri- 
 bution has always practically been felt as the pressing 
 question of morals. The most important point in 
 regard of this distribution is the question as between 
 our own happiness and that of others, the question 
 between selfishness and benevolence : the next in im- 
 portance is the question of special claim upon us, or 
 the question between justice and both benevolence 
 and selfishness. The philosophical character of utili- 
 tarianism, as Mr Mill puts it, may be considered an 
 attempt to shift the question from this ground back 
 to the ground of the production of more or less of 
 happiness. It tries to blind its eyes to the fact that it 
 must assume some principle of distribution for the 
 happiness, and when it does assume such, it seems to 
 avoid as much as possible giving a reason for it. 
 utilitarian The principle of the 'greatest happiness of the 
 distribu- ^ greatest number involves no such idea of distribution. 
 ^^^' Supposing, as is undoubtedly the fact, that we are 
 not aware, each of us, of any distinct limit to our 
 capacity for happiness, (if only there is more happi- 
 ness for us to enjoy) ; I do not see why a person 
 should not be acting on this principle who acted 
 entirely for his own happiness, with the bondjide idea 
 
THE DISTRIBUTION OF ACTION FOR HAPPINESS. 89 
 
 that as he could do more for his own happiness than 
 for that of others, he was really in this way most 
 increasing the entire stock. For the utilitarian rule 
 of distribution Mr Mill cites further on in his Essay, 
 a saying of Bentham\ and in the passage I have 
 quoted he himself gives the principle : it is, that all 
 persons (I suppose) are to be considered to have 
 equal claim on the action of each, the agent's self in- 
 cluded with the rest. I say, 'I suppose,' because T 
 do not exactly know what Mr Mill means by 'all 
 persons concerned! 
 
 The manner in which Mr Mill deals with this it is incon- 
 question of the distribution of action is one of which other doc- 
 we have already seen examples. Beginning with the Mr Miii, 
 principles which have been commonly known under ^^ ^^^X.^'l 
 
 .... sympathy); 
 
 the name of utilitarianism, he then proceeds to 
 answer objections which have been made to these 
 principles, by saying that utilitarianism teaches, or 
 might have taught, doctrines quite contradictory to 
 them. As I have said, it appears to me that the 
 contradictory doctrines rather than the utilitarian 
 principles are given with the most appearance of his 
 own mind going with them, so that (in spite of their 
 form and purpose) I regard these papers as a most 
 valuable aid to what I believe to be the true views as 
 to the foundations of morality. Thus many of the 
 doctrines which I have to set against the utilitarian 
 principles are to be found in the papers themselves, 
 and it is no objection to what I am now doing to 
 say that Mr Mill has himself said the same. As 
 an instance, in spite of the above-mentioned as- 
 sumed principle of the arithmetical distribution of 
 action for happiness, he has given elsewhere (when 
 he is not defending utilitarianism), particularly in 
 
 ^ p. 91, * everybody to count for one, nobody for more than one.* 
 
9<^ THE DISTRIBUTION OF ACTION FOR HAPPINESS. 
 
 the beautiful passage to which I have already re- 
 ferred about sympathy and society, the real principle 
 of the proper distribution of action in this respect. 
 Sympathy', he tells us there, makes another the 
 object with us of the same feelings which we have 
 in regard of ourselves, desire, for instance, of happi- 
 ness : and sympathy follows fact or, if we prefer ex- 
 pressing it so, answers to relation ; that is, those we 
 sympathize with are those who are brought into con- 
 tact with us, or about whom we come to haA^-e know- 
 ledge, and whose circumstances or relation to us call 
 for feeling on our part : and so the desire of happi- 
 ness which begins of necessity with ourselves, (for all 
 desire must in the first instance be individual,) is pro- 
 pagated, as to its object, around us, until it at last 
 embraces the whole human race, or as I most 
 heartily agree with Mr Mill, the whole sentient 
 creationl All this is almost moral common-place : 
 but it is common-place most unworthily exchanged, 
 in the utilitarian scheme, for the doctrine that the 
 object of our desire and action for happiness, should 
 be the whole creation divided into so many units, one 
 of which is ourselves, and each of which is to be 
 looked on by us as of equal importance, 
 andun- For practical application, it is evident that this 
 
 i^^r^gafd IS'^ter doctrine has no meaning, and is only so many 
 to practice, 'vvords ; since (to take the most important point as 
 
 since tiie , ^ I.-.,. 
 
 comparison to the questiou,) our own happiness which is ima- 
 in fact im-^ gined by us immediately, and the happiness of 
 possible. Qthers, which is imagined by us through sympathy, 
 must be looked on in a different manner, and cannot 
 possibly be brought into comparison in the way of 
 measurement, one with the other : not to mention the 
 superinduced consideration, that our acting for the 
 
 ' pp. 45~49- '^ P- 17. 
 
THE DISTRIBUTION OF ACTION FOR HAPPINESS. QI 
 
 happiness of others is one of the means of augment- 
 ing our own. The desire of the happiness of others, 
 when excited by sympathy, may very possibly be 
 greater than any desire consciously felt for our own ; 
 but greater or less, the feeling is different. How 
 much of somebody else's pleasure, which a man 
 imagines by sympathy, weighs so much of his own 
 pleasure, which he feels, is a sort of comparison in 
 regard of which we can only say, that if a man felt 
 disposed to calculate in this way, he would probably 
 never get beyond his own pleasure. We may know 
 men selfish, and men very much the reverse ; but 
 a person acting upon this idea of impartiality, I 
 think, would be hard to find. And then as to ap- 
 plying our test : action is wrong, by Mr Mill's first 
 principle, if it does not tend to produce happiness ; 
 it is Avrong again by this second principle, if, in 
 doing it, we are doing more for the sake of our 
 own happiness than we do for the happiness of each 
 other person with whom we are brought into contact. 
 But how can people help, in this present world of 
 ours, acting more for their own happiness, that is, 
 concerning themselves more specially with their own 
 health, fortune, and good reputation, than they do 
 with that of each of those whom they know ? Though 
 here again the difficulty recurs : for in respect of 
 others, no one ever thought of taking care that he 
 divided his action for happiness equally amongst all 
 those whose happiness he could in any way promote. 
 These things are not matters for arithmetic. 
 
 Mr Mill quotes with reason the words of our Difference 
 Lord, which are 'the ideal perfection' of all morality, andThT' 
 as being that of utilitarian morality among the rest ; ^^jf^"^" 
 and Christianity does indeed contain in itself all with which 
 that is good in utilitarianism. But the Christian pared by 
 idea of all men being brethren or neighbours, (the ^'* ^'"' 
 
92 THE DISTRIBUTION OF ACTION FOR HAPPINESS. 
 
 very expression carrying with it the notion of that 
 spreading outwards which I have described, of the 
 expansion of a family or society rather than of the 
 division of an aggregate) seems to me at the farthest 
 remove possible from Mr Mill's idea of men being, 
 as objects for the action of each one of them, equal 
 units, duty consisting in impartiality among them. 
 However much the action of Christianity, in tending 
 to widen the moral view and the feeling of brother- 
 hood, tends to bring these ideas in certain respects 
 nearer each other, it leaves them always as much 
 two distinct ideas with distinct properties, as the 
 asymptote is distinct from the curve towards which 
 it ever tends but which it never meets. Christi- 
 anity widens the area of brotherhood because it is 
 ever generative of fresh sympathy and philanthropy, 
 not because it has any tendency to equalize sym- 
 pathies, or to weaken existing ones by dispersing 
 them abroad. The words of our Lord, so far as 
 they have any bearing upon the difference of view 
 which I am speaking of, seem to me to carry with 
 them the exact opposite of that which Mr Mill 
 concludes from them. To suppose, as Mr Mill 
 apparently does, that the terms of the proposi- 
 tion may be transposed, making it our duty to love 
 ourselves as our neighbour, no less than it is our 
 duty to love our neighbour as ourselves, is a con- 
 struction which I think has never hitherto been put 
 upon them. The notion which they give us is that 
 the love of ourselves, or the wishing to be 'done 
 by' in a certain manner, is something which is sure 
 to be in us, and they urge that something else not 
 sure to be in us should if possible be so to the same 
 extent. Nobody I think ever understood them as 
 expressing a measure of exact equality or a limit, 
 but rather a standard to be aimed at. 
 
THE DISTRIBUTION OF ACTION FOR HAPPINESS. 93 
 
 The principle of philosophical utilitarianism which Reasons 
 has some value and is important, (viz. that an action utilitarians 
 is lost or worthless w^hich does not promote some^^^^^ ^ 
 happiness, and worse than that if it simply dimin- theprmd- 
 ishes happiness,) gives us, as I have said, no principle tributioa. 
 of distribution of our action for happiness, but of 
 itself would leave it to be supposed that it w^as of 
 no consequence wJiose happiness was promoted. This 
 however will not make a moral system : there must 
 be some hypothesis as to the distribution : and 
 I suppose that the charm of equality of distribution 
 to utilitarianism is that in certain respects it stands 
 nearest to the former supposition ; I mean that we 
 might take it to signify that it was not of special 
 consequence whose happiness was promoted ; in other 
 words, that the reason why the happiness of all 
 should be promoted alike was, that there was no 
 reason why the happiness of one should be promoted 
 more than that of another. In the view of some, 
 probably, this principle of distribution derives an 
 additional charm from the apparent association with 
 the political idea of equality: but utilitarians have 
 not I think necessainly been men of political views 
 of this kind. Doubtless also the idea of justice and 
 of reason adds a strong support to the proposed 
 principle on the ground of its seeming impartiality 
 and disinterestedness. 
 
 One important view of morality which has entered its profes- 
 into very opposite systems, is that which regards partiality 
 it as effecting a revolution in our natural judgment ®''*°'^°®'^- 
 of actions, similar to that which took place in astro- 
 nomical thought when the Copernican system was 
 substituted for the Ptolemaic. Morality in this view 
 bids us change our standing-point from ourselves, 
 cease to be self-centred, and to refer everything to our 
 own happiness, and calls us to put our standing-point 
 
94 THE DISTRIBUTION OF ACTION FOR HAPPINESS. 
 
 as it were in the centre of the universe, and to make 
 ourselves, as thought of, be no more to ourselves, 
 as thinking, than anybody else is. Just as, intel- 
 lectually, reason binds men together, and if we may 
 so speak, deindividualizes them, truth being common, 
 or what so far assimilates one mind to another, while 
 error is individual : so morally, the growth of virtue 
 is a gradual deindividualization of men as to the pur- 
 pose of their action also, substituting common pur- 
 poses for private ones, and carrying sympathy to such 
 an extent that individual interests will really vanish. 
 Reason is the same for all, and the application of the 
 principle of reason to morality abolishes the notion 
 of self One manner also of the action of religion 
 has always been in this direction : we are taught to 
 look at things as God sees them, and to love men 
 as He loves them. But all this must bei^in with the 
 notion of ourselves, and of something, whatever it is, 
 which makes us what we are, and with the notion of 
 others as differing among themselves, and with cer- 
 tain things which make them what the^/ are : when 
 our point of view is changed these views are altered, 
 but still the first are the groundwork of those which 
 are formed afterwards. Impartiality and disinter- 
 estedness are negative terms, which have no meaning 
 except on the supposition of temptation to partiality 
 and of possible interestedness in the first instance : 
 they are guards and corrections and cannot be given 
 to us as original principles. They can only mean 
 acting as between two parties according to the re- 
 lations which ought to guide action : not necessarily 
 the giving no preference, but the giving no undue 
 preference: and we have still then the meaning of 
 'ought' and 'due' to settle. Because a judge is 
 impartial, it does not follow that he will divide the 
 thing in dispute equally between the parties. Im- 
 
THE DISTRIBUTION OF ACTION FOR HAPPINESS. 95 
 
 partiality between two parties means, the not allow- 
 ii)g any considerations to contribute to the judgment 
 formed which ought not to do so. 
 
 The two great moral questions, the one, as between The real 
 ourselves and others, the other, as between those to ^[g^r'lJPjf *^^ 
 
 whom we are bound in any way and those to whom j!«» of ^-c- 
 
 1111 • • ''^' o* 
 
 we are not bound, cannot be settled by any antici- as between 
 
 patory determination to make no preferences. It looks Ld ojr 
 of course well to say, in Mr Mill's version of our ^^Jf^^" ^^^ 
 Lord's words, ' Love yourself and your neio^hbour ^^ betvyeen 
 alike:' but it does 7iot look well to say, ^Love your of different 
 father and your neighbour, your benefactor and your bolfrs^ is 
 neighbour, alike ;' yet this is in fact what the prin- pj'^^^^P^^' 
 ciple of 'every body counting for one' leads to. idea of 
 There are circumstances, I presume, in which we are 
 to deal with our benefactor the same as with any- 
 body else, and circumstances in which we are not: 
 and if we are to have utilitarian morality as a science 
 to deal with our incitements to action, we certainly 
 want besides it a good morality of justice and duty 
 to deal with these circumstances. For utilitarianism 
 here, it appears, can only put us off with the very 
 inapplicable doctrine of 'no preferences:' and this 
 adopted not from any principle in utilitarianism 
 itself, but because something must be adopted, and 
 this seems least to commit utilitarianism to any 
 principles dangerous to it. 
 
 In some respects, society, whether moral or poll- Society is 
 tical, may be considered an aggregation of similar an'ag"^'^^ 
 units; but in far more important respects it is an ^f^?^*|j°^" 
 organization of dissimilar members. The general ""J^s. as 
 happiness, as a fact, is the sum of the happiness of zation oT 
 the individuals ; but as an object to be aimed at, it memWs^ 
 
 is not this, but it is to be attained by the actinor of^do"»" 
 
 T 1 • -I'll* ^^^y ^^ "°* 
 
 each according to the relations m which he is to promote 
 
 placed in the society. It is these different relations, LL of^aii 
 
g6 THE DISTRIBUTION OF ACTION FOR HAPPINESS. 
 
 alike, but rendering as they do the individuals dissimilar in 
 nessof circumstances, which more truly convert mere juxta- 
 cording to position into society than anything of similarity 
 rektTJ'nfn ^^^^' ^^^^ latter is needed in certain most im- 
 which we portant respects, not indeed in any form of equality, 
 him. but in the form of common understanding and 
 sympathy: but the various need and the power 
 of mutual benefit which dissimilarity of circum- 
 stance produces are as vital to the society as the 
 other points, and do more to make it necessary 
 and fruitful. By moral relations and moral society, 
 as distinguished from political, I understand men as 
 stronger and weaker, benefactors and benefited, 
 trusters and trusted, or linked together in other 
 moral relations similar to these, besides the natural 
 relations, as of family, which partially coincide with 
 these; lastly, supposing there is no other relation, 
 as linked together in any case by the general rela- 
 tion of human brotherhood. And if we are to an- 
 swer the question, whose happiness are we to pro- 
 mote ? we must answer it by saying, not the 
 happiness of all alike, ourselves taking share with 
 the rest, but the happiness (if we are so to describe 
 it) of each one with whom we have to do, according 
 to the moral relation in which we stand to bim. The 
 happiness which we are to promote is that of those 
 who are benefitable by us, who want something of 
 us, or have claim upon us, according to their wants 
 and claims. The satisfaction of such want and claim 
 is the doing our duty. 
 The Intel- And duty binds us, not first in the general 
 ception^of (namely, to promote the general happiness), and in 
 the^edhfcr t^^ particular only as a consequence of this ; but first 
 which ac- {xi the particular, duty in general being an expres- 
 it, have re- siou for the whole of such particular duty. The 
 theXat'"" particularity of duty and its felt stringency or 
 
THE DISTRIBUTION OF ACTION FOR HAPPINESS. 97 
 
 urgency go together. Failure in duty is an injury '^^^^^^^.to 
 to the person towards whom we fail, and it is this, cuiar, and 
 not the diminution of the happiness of society or of general. ^ 
 happiness in general, which makes the point of the 
 wrongness of it. 
 
 Speaking generally, sympathy follows duty, it 
 being a part of the right working of human nature 
 that feeling follows fact. Feeling, as for instance 
 sympathy, involves in it constantly a great mass of 
 indistinct but true perception: it is what we may 
 call undeveloped thought, and in cases (most abund- 
 ant) where the fiKing and expression of thought is 
 difficult and slippery, feeling is a guide which often 
 indicates fact and duty whan thought and reason 
 may be able but very imperfectly to exhibit them. 
 The feeling which accompanies the intellectual per- 
 ception of particular moral duty is oiften of the in- 
 tensest character. The idea of not failing to repay 
 obligation and benefit, the idea of answering trust 
 in us by truthfulness and faithfulness on our part, 
 these and similar ideas are accompanied constantly 
 by feeling, the intenseness of which arises entirely 
 from the felt particularity of the relation : any mix- 
 ture of this feeling with the other feeling, good 
 enough in itself, that we ought to speak the truth 
 because it is of vast importance to society that peo- 
 ple's word should be believed, would, so far as it 
 had any effect, weaken the former. Thus it is that, 
 in a right state of things, feeling which arises of it- 
 self, and reason, which makes us aware of moral fact 
 (as of relation and of duty), work together. 
 
 And the utilitarian maxim, that 'an action isTheutiU- 
 right in proportion as it tends to promote happiness,' ^"^"J^ ^, 
 is incomplete without having appended to it such an^^^^f^^o 
 addition as this, ' and not merely happiness in general, elude the 
 but such happiness in particular as the agent is duty °° 
 
98 THE DISTRIBUTION OF ACTION FOR HAPPINESS. 
 
 specially bound and called upon to promote/ the 
 
 terms 'bound' and 'called upon' being explained by 
 
 the ideas of duty and sympathy in the manner which 
 
 I have just described. It is so that the question, 
 
 * Whose happiness V is to be answered. 
 
 But besides The idea of duty, however, and the feelings which 
 
 duly, we" corrcspoud to it, do not perfectly answer the most 
 
 theld^a^of important question in regard of the distribution of 
 
 Virtue, to our actiou for happiness, namely, the question between 
 
 thedistri- oursclvos and others in general : nor can this be done 
 
 ouraction. without the taking account of another moral idea, 
 
 which we may call that of Virtue. 
 devdop-* Comparing together, in the way of measurement, 
 
 mentoftheso much of our own happiness with so much of the 
 feeling of happinoss of others, seems to me, as I have said, a 
 eSes^us' chimerical idea. People's own happiness being the 
 w^the starting-point, as Mr Mill's proof of utilitarianism is 
 temptation Sufficient to show us, they will never act for the hap- 
 forourown piuoss of othors at all, never get out of the idea of 
 happiness. Jookiug Only at their own, except either by the pro- 
 perly Epicurean consideration that through the hap- 
 piness of others is one way to their own (if that can 
 really be called getting out of the idea of their 
 own happiness), or by the natural feeling of sym- 
 pathy developing itself into the temper of mind which, 
 under certain circumstances, we call virtue, under 
 certain others we call generosity, or by some term 
 similar. The utilitarian half assumption (I call it 
 /iaZ/' assumption, because the language of utilitarians 
 about it seems sometimes studiously confused) is that 
 the desire of happiness in generalj the charmingness 
 of the idea, independent of the thought of the enjoy- 
 ment of it, is the starting-point, and then from this 
 we proceed, for enjoyment, to assign so much to our- 
 selves, so much to others. On this scheme one forms 
 but little idea that there exists constantly an over- 
 
THE DISTRIBUTION OF ACTION FOR HAPPINESS. 99 
 
 whelming temptation to appropriate it all to ourselves : 
 but we are aware that there is such temptation, that 
 this is the condition of human nature, and that it is 
 the chief work of virtue to stand against it. 
 
 As to the comparative measure, then, of action for it is a 
 our own happiness and action for the happiness offiowof our 
 others, we at once see that nothing like a rule can be yond'^^Jat 
 given. The very idea of virtue (or say philanthropy), s^^^ct duty 
 the very mention of the word, implies a supposition 
 of acting for the happiness of others, which mere sup- 
 position is so much more than we need make (and 
 the acting in this manner so much more than we need 
 do), if we rest in the supposition with which we start, 
 that the simply desirable (which necessarily in the 
 first instance must mean the desirable to ourselves, 
 and that which we ourselves do desire), is what we 
 are to direct our action to. Virtue may be proved to 
 be our own best happiness, and virtue may be proved 
 to be our duty in such a manner that we shall be 
 punished if we do not possess it : but whatever may 
 be proved as to these accessory characters of virtue, 
 virtue itself is a moral overflow of our nature, a 
 spontaneous outgoing of it beyond what moral neces- 
 sity, if we may so speak, prompts ; a free moral reso- 
 lution to apply the extended reason and view, by 
 which we differ from the lower animals, not to the 
 purposes of our own particular existence alone, as they 
 in the" main are obiiofed to do, but to the benefit and 
 happiness of others. It is just because, as many 
 would tell us, no man can be required to act other- 
 wise than for his own happiness, that it is virtue to do 
 so. And to speak of rules and measures of anything 
 which has this orimn seems absurd. The frame of 
 mind which would lead to the consideration how far 
 it ought to go, would, one would think, have pre- 
 cluded the existence of it at all. It very often indeed, 
 
 7—2 
 
lOO THE DISTRIBUTION OF ACTION FOR HAPPINESS. 
 
 when existing, goes but a little way, being daunted 
 by fear, or drawn back by self-indulgence, or hemmed 
 in by self-interestedness, or stopped in whatever way : 
 in such cases the supposition of an advising and dis- 
 interested spectator might be of some advantage : 
 but it constantly also goes heyoyid what any such 
 spectator would advise or venture to recommend as 
 what could be called barely right : under the form of 
 generosity, it leads to self-sacrifice, to risk on behalf 
 of others, to unhesitating preference of them, to the 
 ten thousand forms of noble action. Here we can 
 have no idea of action right by measurement : but 
 only of action good and worthy through the purpose, 
 the principle, and the motive. 
 The utiii- The utilitarian way then of putting the question 
 
 dpirof" as between ourselves and others, which depends on 
 tion chtcks ^^® i^^^ ^^ quantity of happiness, and which may be 
 selfishness exprcsscd thus, ^' Do not act for so mean an object as 
 thought of the happiness of one, though that one be yourself, 
 portion^be- whou you might act for the much higher and better 
 r?ntss ^^j®^^ ^f ^^^ happiness of many," is not the proper 
 ofoneaTid viow, bccause if we apply this principle, the one in 
 the true ' qucstiou may not be oneself, but may be one to whom 
 thltTlfich i^^cb of our services and of our life would be rightly 
 appeals to dovotcd, and the view would condemn such devotion 
 
 our con- 
 
 sciousness as that. Wo might be willing that we ourselves 
 an/of sym- should couut but for ouo ill our action, but should 
 pathy. j^q|. i^g willing that each one of those dear to us 
 should count for no more. The principle to settle 
 the question between ourselves and others must 
 rather be, *' Do not engross all your action for happi- 
 ness to yourself : the mare you can spare for others, 
 the more you truly do something : the promotion of 
 your own happiness is a matter of no moral account 
 at all, except so far as it may subserve further pur- 
 poses : to the extent to which it engrosses you, you 
 
THE DISTRIBUTION OF ACTION FOR HAPPINESS. lOI 
 
 are acting on no moral consideration, but on princi- 
 ples purely natural, as natural is opposed to human, 
 moral, reasonable. The reason why this is wrong, so 
 far as it is wrong, is not because in your action you 
 are failing to promote happiness, for (by the supposi- 
 tion) you are promoting your own ; and if we look 
 upon happiness merely as happiness, it is quite con- 
 ceivable, (though in practice you probably would not 
 find it the fact) that you might be more successful in 
 promoting your own happiness than in your attempts 
 to promote that of others. But the reason why it is 
 wrong is because action natural in this manner is not 
 the action proper for you, and so far as you fail to 
 feel that it is not, you feel on the other hand that you 
 are not what you should be. You are conscious : 
 you are free : you see what wants doing, and you feel 
 yourself more or less able to do it : you are not bound, 
 like the animals, to the care of your own existence, by 
 restriction of consciousness and consequent want of 
 freedom : you can enter into the wants of others and 
 their capacity for enjoyment as well as your own : 
 you have impulse to action and power for it : and you 
 must surely feel yourself more a man, feel that you 
 live more, in proportion as you can spread your action 
 beyond your own benefit to embrace theirs. And 
 then there is special sympathy to meet special claim : 
 and nature provides warm feeling and affection to set 
 all in movement." 
 
 It is this sympathy which brings the happiness of sympathy 
 ourselves and of others, as the double object of our hamoXe 
 action, into harmony together, so that the occasion ^^^l""^^^^ 
 does not arise for the balancing one against the other, happiness 
 in order to take equal measures of each. And thus that of 
 it is most thoroughly the case that the acting for the °*^^'^- 
 happiness of others is generally the best way to a 
 man's own happiness, while yet this proposition will 
 
102 THE DISTRIBUTION OF ACTION FOR HAPPINESS. 
 
 not bear stating in the manner in which it must be 
 stated in order to build morality upon Epicureanism, 
 or philanthropy upon selfishness. For if the ultimate 
 purpose of our consulting the happiness of others is 
 the subserving thereby our own, the fact that this is 
 so shows that there is not in us that free and virtuous 
 disposition to philanthropy, which arises from sym- 
 pathy, and which is necessary in order that the 
 making of others happy shall really make ourselves so. 
 The simple Qq far therefore as there is meaning: and truth in 
 
 increasing . . . . , . 
 
 of our own tiio maxim, that an action is right m proportion as it 
 is^neither tcuds to promoto happiucss, and wrong as it is the 
 t^^ng'"' reverse, if the question arises. Whose happiness? 
 we may put ourselves out of the consideration: 
 there is no Tightness in consulting our own happi-. 
 ness, or wrongness in doing the reverse. Under cer- 
 tain circumstances there is a Tightness in diminishing 
 our own happiness, and a wrongness in increasing it : 
 but the simple increasing of it is of itself neither 
 right nor wrong. 
 utiiitari- Betwcon utilitarianism and the cognate ideas on 
 
 while it ac- the ouo sido, and asceticism and its cognate ideas 
 ceticism of ^^ ^^® othoT, there has been, it seems to me, a good 
 tending to (j^al of blind arorument, which Mr Mill touches on in 
 
 diminish • i 
 
 happiness, thoso papers*, Without I think doing much to en- 
 to^discour-^ lighten it. Asceticism may be under certain circum- 
 sfcrifice. staucos, a Commanded religious duty, and if it is, it 
 is so far out of our present consideration. But other- 
 wise, the philosophical principle of utilitarianism 
 must be considered to hold true to this extent, that 
 there is no Tightness or moral value in the diminish- 
 ing our own happiness, except so far as the diminu- 
 tion is of the nature of a sacrifice, that is, is for a 
 purpose, that purpose being the increase of the hap- 
 piness of some one, or the nourishment of the dispo- 
 
 ' p. 23 . 
 
THE DISTRIBUTION OF ACTION FOR HAPPINESS. IO3 
 
 sition, and the formation of the character, which 
 shall lead to such happiness : in any other case dimi- 
 nution of happiness is simply so much of what is 
 valuable lost to no purpose. This being so, utilitarian- 
 ism accuses asceticism, self-sacrifice, and their kindred 
 ideas, of taking pleasure in pain as pain : there is no 
 harm in its attacking them for this, except so far as 
 it may be fighting a shadow. But it also goes far 
 towards denying value to self-sacrifice which has not 
 an actual result of some happiness to show as pro- 
 ceeding from it. Its tendency to this arises from its 
 pushing too far its principle, that nothing but result- 
 ing happiness gives value to actions, and from its de- 
 ducing too exclusively (in a manner which we shall 
 see presently) the merit and praiseworthiness of vir- 
 tue from our association of the idea of it with that 
 of the happiness which it is its nature to promote. 
 The consequence is that utilitarianism has had to a 
 certain degree the reputation, and not quite unde- 
 servedly, of not laying the foundation of virtue deep 
 enough, so that while it very nobly teaches desire for 
 the happiness of others, it does not, so far as its princi- 
 ple goes, sufficiently encourage that readiness to forego 
 our own happiness (finding it indeed probably after- 
 wards when not expected) which effective devotion to 
 philanthropy often requires. As it is, quite as im- in reality 
 portant practical results, in regard of the happiness by its en- ' 
 of others, have been produced by asceticism as by j""^"^;"^! j" 
 utilitarianism. Bentham thouofht, and with reason, f^«^ega^<i 
 
 1 • • 1 1 for private 
 
 that if men could once be got distinctly to have the happiness 
 idea that happiness, well examined and systematized son^oTthe ' 
 happiness, and that not the agent's own only, was ^f^^^^^J^^ 
 the one thing worthy of being acted for, great results object, haa 
 in the way of philanthropy would ensue. No doubt cause of aa 
 they would, and have. But results as great in philan- fanthr?pic 
 thropic success have proceeded in an abundance of J^*j^!JJ[^^^^ 
 
104 THE DISTRIBUTION OF ACTION FOR HAPPINESS. 
 
 mTtSza- ^0^1^ ascetics from the encouragement of the idea 
 tionofthe that happiness was a thing, in regard of which the 
 happiness, bost that could be done was to sacrifice it and change 
 it for the attainment of a worthy object*. In the wor- 
 thy object the two systems were agreed : but no 
 greater results have flowed (or I think will flow) 
 from the theoretical methodization and exclusive 
 magnification of the object, which utilitarianism 
 teaches, than from the encouragement of the feel- 
 ings, as to self, necessary for the attainment of it, 
 which wise asceticism has effected. 
 
 * It might be a practical inconsistency in a man like St Vincent de 
 Paul that he should live a life of asceticism himself, as if self-denial 
 were the proper end of human conduct, and yet that every moment of 
 his life should be spent, not in making others ascetic and pleasing 
 himself with their hardships, but in labouring for their rehef and 
 pleasure, as if the rule of life were enjoyment : but it is an inconsistency 
 to which much of human conduct is most happily liable. If a man's life 
 is to be spent in the service of his fellow-creatures, in promoting a 
 material happiness for them, he must not have the idea that a material 
 happiness is what he wants for himself ; he must find his own happiness 
 in the success of his labours, and in the sight of their happiness ; where 
 indeed he will find it most abundantly and in a form far more real and 
 intense than any material happiness could be: so that philanthropy 
 is the best self-love, always under the all-important consideration, 
 which renders vain a good deal which philosophers have said. upon this 
 subject, that it is not from such policy, and with a view to the hai)piness 
 Qf self, that it is practised. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ON THE REAL GOODNESS OF VIRTUE. 
 
 We have already entered to some degree upon the 
 consideration of those other elements of moral value 
 which have to be taken into account, in the estima- 
 tion of actions, along with conduciveness to happi- 
 ness, the chief (whether they are, or are not the only 
 ones) being 'duty' and virtue/ I now proceed to 
 examine them more fully : and it will be my business 
 in this chapter to show especially in regard of virtue, 
 that its goodness or valuableness is not given to it 
 simply by its conduciveness to happiness, but has 
 other sources independent of this : I shall try to show 
 what those sources are. 
 
 Mr Mill's own utilitarianism may be considered utmta- 
 to consist (independent of certain applications in aiiowrno 
 practice, which I will not speak of now) in s^ivinsf an^?^,'^^®^^*^ 
 
 •T • 1 • • t* ^ '^ 1 1 virtue ex- 
 
 utilitarian basis, in the way of philosophy or theory, cept that 
 to an edifice which itself is mixedly Epicurean, Stoic, Tprings 
 emotional, societarian, and I know not how niuch Jg^ei^yto 
 besides : the more it is besides, so much the better produce 
 
 « . . . -nrTi T 1 ji /» • 1 • happiness. 
 
 for it in my view. What i mean by the lurnisnmg 
 it with a philosophic basis of utilitarianism is simply 
 this: the supposing that, whatever praiseworthiness 
 and excellence there may be in virtue, whatever 
 bindingness in duty, whatever indispensableness in 
 
I06 THE REAL GOODNESS OF VIRTUE. 
 
 society, whatever nobleness in self-devotion, what- 
 ever delightfulness in sympathy ; all this depends in 
 the last resort upon the maxim, that one action is 
 better or more valuable than another, more to be 
 chosen than another, preferable to another, on this 
 principle only, that it is more conducive to some hap- 
 piness. Some here must be taken generally, without 
 consideration whose or ivhat happiness, and nothing 
 else must be taken account of about the action ex- 
 cept this conduciveness. 
 
 The foundation is not generally a part of the 
 
 building which we see, and it is quite possible that a 
 
 system resting upon this as its basis might give us 
 
 very exalted ideas, and that perfectly bona Jide, in 
 
 regard either of virtue or of any moral idea, however 
 
 alien from utilitarianism it may at first appear. I 
 
 shall try however to show that, though it may possibly 
 
 give us exalted ideas in this respect, it cannot give us 
 
 rio^ht ones : and in so doino^ I shall have occasion to 
 
 touch on one or two other objections, which Mr Mill 
 
 supposes made against utilitarianism, besides those 
 
 which have been already noticed. 
 
 But even The two uoxt moral ideas, or perhaps we should 
 
 tharin the ^OYo corroctly say classes of ideas, besides the idea of 
 
 thetdeaof ^^Ppi^^^ss or good and ideas cognate to it, are the 
 
 happiness idea of virtuc or virfcuousness with those of gene- 
 
 thftTf^vh-- rosity and others similar, and the idea of duty with 
 
 bei^^J'^''*^' justice and others similar to that. And the principle of 
 
 coeval with the philosophical utihtarianism is in fact the simply 
 
 sentionce ', . t ^ , 
 
 saymg that these two latter depend upon that of 
 good or happiness. This I do not think is so. I 
 allow that happiness (meaning by that not human 
 evSaifioma, but good, the absolute dyaOoi' or desirable) 
 is the more general idea of the three, and comes 
 earlier in what we may call the abstract scale of 
 thought : it arises coevally and correspondently with 
 
THE REAL GOODNESS OF VIRTUE. IO7 
 
 the idea of sentience (I use this word as the most 
 general form of sensibility, sensitiveness, or whatever 
 we may call it) ; and a world in which there was no- 
 body or nothing wliich could feel anything, if it is to 
 be called a world of existence at all, is one which we 
 need not trouble ourselves about. And of course 
 this good or happiness, in the last resort, is not 
 good or happiness, unless it is felt and enjoyed. As I 
 have said before, if we are speaking on the supposition, 
 not of a state of things of any kind, for it is not yet 
 that, but of an anteriorness to any fixed conditions of 
 anything, in the rarefied atmosphere of that which 
 some call the absolute, if for example we were think- 
 ing why God should ever have created anything at 
 all, we may possibly need no other consideration than 
 that of the increase of happiness. « 
 
 But as soon as the happiness itself, leaving this still in ti.e 
 absolute generalness, begins to take any conditioned man acti- 
 form, and to be the happiness of any supposably [^'g^origTnai 
 actual being, other ideas rise up equally important, ^ fact than 
 which are concerned with it, but by no means depend- and human 
 ent on it. That men, for instance, are active beings ^s v'Sue^s 
 is quite as original a fact of their nature as that they ^gp^ndent 
 are sentient : we are not entitled to say, that the of a^y con- 
 prime and original fact of man's nature is his sen- to enjoy- 
 tience or capability of happiness, and that his activity, ^^^ ' 
 or his being able to work for this or any other 
 purpose, is of the nature of an accident as compared 
 with this, is something supervening which he might 
 very possibly have been without : we may only say 
 this as we might say the reverse, that man is es- 
 sentially an active being, and that his capacity for 
 happiness is something accidental. Man is by na- 
 ture active, as well as active to an end ; his action has 
 a character of its own, independent of its reference to 
 an end : and therefore, though it must have an end 
 
I08 THE REAL GOODNESS OF VIRTUE. 
 
 in order to be reasonable, and our object must be to 
 find the proper end for it, it is not necessary that it 
 should have no value other than what is given it by 
 this end. The supposition that the idea of goodness 
 or valuableness is absorbed in the end is in fact the 
 supposition that action, considered in itself and in- 
 dependently of the end, is an evil : that the universe 
 would have been better if there had been no action in 
 it, nothing but (if we can conceive it) enjoyment. 
 The positive value of enjoyment as against the nega- 
 tive value of non-existence or of unconscious freedom 
 from pain is what we have no means of weighing : 
 but considering that in any conceivable world it is 
 probable that enjoyment must be mixed with some- 
 thing of action, that is, (by the supposition) of evilj 
 the most probable result of the supposition seems to 
 be a sort of nihilism, or an idea that it would have 
 been better that nothing had ever been. 
 If tiiis But it is clear that action is a part of nature as 
 
 described Hiuch as onjoymeut is, and that it has its value as 
 ment^m- ^^^ion besidos whatever value conduciveness to enjoy- 
 voiyed in mont may give it. We may express this if we like it 
 then tiie by sayiug that there is enjoyment in the action itself: 
 Ictkfn^does ^^^ if we do, WO must give up the idea of the charac- 
 not depend ^qj. qj, yaluo of actious beinsf measured only by the 
 
 on the end, . •7/^1 • . 
 
 end. If the action itself md^j be enjoyment as action, 
 
 there is an end of the maxim that actions are only 
 
 valuable, or distinguishable from each other with a 
 
 view to choice, according to their conduciveness to 
 
 enjoyment. 
 
 and the ^ho importance of this necessary consideration 
 
 piness be- about actlon is of a double kind. In the more out- 
 
 ta^led"" ward region of application, it renders the value of the 
 
 TtherToT-"^ felicific character of actions (or their productiveness 
 
 siderations of happincss), as a test of any kind, much less than 
 
 would pre- would at first be considered likely, or than Bentham, 
 
THE REAL GOODNESS OF VIRTUE. lOp 
 
 in the ardour of a supposed discoverer, reckoned it y^"*J*^ ^®" 
 would be. It makes it impossible to disentangle practical 
 happiness out of the complicated web of considera- "*^* 
 tions which make up our knowledge of human nature, 
 to any extent which should render our action for 
 happiness a simple and ready thing. It renders 
 conscious and deliberate action towards (what we 
 may think) such happiness less important as com- 
 pared with some other ways of action, because we 
 may be really more promoting it in these other ways. 
 
 But it is more particularly with utilitarianism 
 as making the idea of conduciveness to happiness a 
 fundamental principle that I am now concerned, 
 rather than as it might make this idea a practical 
 rule. And here the importance of the considerations 
 which I have mentioned is still greater. 
 
 There is a tendency to action in men as well as a The acti- 
 capacity for happiness : and hence the moral question IJso sug^*" 
 may present itself in the form, How am I to direct ^^^^^^^^ 
 my action ? as well as in the form, How am I to gain the moral 
 happiness ? Not only the meeting the capacity for goodness is 
 happiness, bub the manner of meeting it, is a matter of ^^^^^^^^ 
 moral consideration. The universe is not merely an t^^n as 
 
 . •^ much as 
 
 agency for producing the happiness of its occupants : happiness. 
 there is a meaning and a value in life besides what is 
 given by happiness. The phrase 'living well,' as used to 
 express what is desirable about life, carries with it the 
 notion ' as man should live,' that is, not only feeling 
 what he would wish to feel, but doing what it belongs 
 to him to do. We may say then, if we like so to use 
 our language, that goodness is desirable for man, as 
 well as happiness. It will be answered, that this is 
 only making goodness a part of happiness, because 
 happiness is coextensive in meaning with the de- 
 sirable. This is so : but happiness thus understood 
 is no longer simply conscious enjoyment, but must 
 
no THE REAL GOODNESS OF VIRTUE. 
 
 mean a state of which conscious enjoyment is only- 
 one of the characters. And of such a state any other 
 constant character may be taken as a distinctive 
 mark, as well as enjoyment. Kight action then (that 
 is, action conducive to happiness in the wide sense) will 
 be known just as much by its being conducive to 
 human goodness, as by its being conducive to human 
 happiness in the narrow sense. And as the idea that 
 happiness might very possibly be involved in action, 
 demands the addition of a new clause to the utilita- 
 rian formula to the effect that action is right (not only 
 as conducive to happiness, but also) in so far as it is 
 itself happiness, so must we conclude still again that 
 action is right both as it is conducive to goodness, 
 and also as it is in itself goodness or good. 
 Action Human action may be considered in the manner 
 
 ^nsidered of it, and in the principles of it, by itself, independent 
 dpies Fnde- ^^ ^^7 Consideration of what end it may or should 
 pendentiy scrve '. we may, in imagination, suppose the great 
 we then ' end of the general happiness non-existent, or im- 
 tia^phiioso- possible : our consideration would then be unsatis- 
 a^ Ari^sto- f^cto^J; ^o doubt : it w^ould be wanting in truthfulness 
 tie's, which to human nature, it would very likely be in itself 
 ciusiveiy of mistaken, anS it would very certainly be mistaken so 
 of^thl^^ far as we assumed it to be all that was wanting for 
 ^J^^]^j^!* morality. But it would not be all this more than 
 of the utilitarianism is on its side. It would only, like 
 the act. utilitarianism, be taking one single character of right 
 actions for the solitary, essential, and constituent one. 
 What I am describing here is pretty much what 
 Aristotle, the great master of these things, has done. 
 He has treated of right action, if right is what w^e 
 call it, without any reference at all to its being action 
 for the general happiness, just as Mr Mill treats it 
 without any reference to its being anything else. 
 The consequence is that we have two moral philoso- 
 
THE REAL GOODNESS OF VIRTUE. Ill 
 
 phies apparently anfcagonistic, but really quite wide 
 of each other, and treating of different subjects, as if 
 there were two human natures. Mr Mill' speaks of 
 the worth of the agent (a different thing quite, he 
 considers, from the morality of the action), almost 
 with a sort of contempt as if it were something 
 with which moral philosophy had nothing to do. 
 In Aristotle moral philosophy has to do with little 
 else. 
 
 Upon the whole, it may perhaps be considered Moral 
 that there are two chief sources from which a virtuous virtue de- 
 action derives its moral value independently of its ^^n's f^^. 
 consequences: one of these is connected with the '^'l^^'''^^^" 
 
 . .... pxringness. 
 
 freewill of man, the other with his aspiringness or 
 upward moral tendency. 
 
 I have touched already upon the first of these, virtue is 
 Virtue would not be virtue, nor generosity generosity, ^m f ^^ 
 with the charm which we find in those ideas, if it 
 were not for the consideration that we choose to be 
 virtuous. It is the highest putting forth of what is 
 as important a part of man's nature as his capacity 
 for happiness, namely, his will. Virtue is noble self- 
 will. I should think it probable that the more people 
 were, for instance, earnest and enthusiastic philan- 
 thropists, the less they could give a reason why they 
 w^ere so. It is in them. They will say, it is what 
 they like to do : and this, it is to be observed, is not 
 the same as saying, in an Epicurean sense, that they 
 find their happiness in it : they are not attentive to 
 the enjoyment, but attentive to the work. 
 
 Human action, the putting forth of human nghtness 
 nature, is a good thing in itself, and such of it as depending 
 is really action, that is, is not absorbed in self or^^f^^^^^ 
 in the sustentation of the acting being, has its de- !^^ p"^- 
 
 T n ^ ^"S forth 
 
 gree of value in this way independent of the purpose of the 
 
 ^ pp. 26 — 29. 
 
112 THE REAL GOODNESS OF VIRTUE. 
 
 ^yorthyac- to which it is applied, though conjunctly with this 
 human na- valuG it is required that the purpose should be a 
 conducive- fitting oue. BuPt for the value of the action alto- 
 hT fness S^^^^^ ^^^ ^^ ^^® wholo, this gooducss in the purpose 
 and result is not more required on the one side than 
 goodness in the principle and the manner on the 
 other. To say, right action is that which is con- 
 ducive to happiness, is only true in the same manner 
 in which it is also true to say, right action is the 
 putting forth of the worthy activity of human nature. 
 What we mean here by rightness, that is, moral value, 
 is given to the action not more by the one considera- 
 tion than by the other. And the same knowledge 
 of human nature, which is required in order to give 
 us the knowledge what is man's happiness, will in 
 an equal degree give us the knowledge what is for 
 him worthy life and action. 
 The cha- The charm in virtuous action arising in this man- 
 
 aspiring, ucr from its voluntariness, from the sort of disposi- 
 iirthfml" tion which we suppose connected with it to forego or 
 tfon^of the ™^k^ sacrifices, to be liberal of our moral power, to 
 terras^ cxtond our carefulness beyond ourselves, to initiate 
 Mow'. ^° moral action and to have a purpose to work for 
 rather than to be only on the defensive against what 
 may diminish and injure our happiness, to be hopeful 
 and trustful rather than fearful and self-intent — 
 this charm or value in actions is closely connected 
 in many respects with the other which I spoke of, 
 which arises from the aspiringness or upward tend- 
 ency of human nature. No terms have played a 
 more important part in moral philosophy than those 
 of 'high' and 'low' in application to actions and 
 feelings. The ideas connected with them have been 
 at all times most practically effective, and at all 
 times also the subject of much attack, defence, and 
 discussion. 
 
THE REAL GOODNESS OF VIRTUE. II3 
 
 So far as, with the various applications which The ongi- 
 moraHsts have made of the term virtue, and its cor- of virtue is 
 respondents in the ancient languages, there has been ceUence!^ 
 anything of a continuity of idea in it, that idea has '^^f^^f^^^ 
 probably been, rather than any other, the idea of of one man 
 excellence. This is not exactly the idea of merit, and of mai 
 though they are nearly the same : merit seems more ^^ STii. 
 or less to imply an actual estimation by another 
 party: excellence is what merit rests upon. Excel- 
 lence in itself has very little meaning except as 
 relative and comparative*. It implies a sort of pre- 
 vious supposition of what should be, of what makes 
 value or worthiness, and it expresses in actual fact 
 degrees of this. 
 
 This idea, as might be expected with a thing 
 so complicated, soon attracted others to it, and 
 among the Romans virtue denoted doubtless not 
 only relative superiority, but usefulness for the pur- 
 poses which people then thought most desirable, 
 which were mainly those of war, and also careless- 
 ness of danger and readiness to make sacrifices. 
 But the virtue or excellence of men, as introduced 
 
 * If any one should say, that this being so, we had better not talk 
 about ' excellence,' or introduce the notion, for that after all it can really 
 represent no more than human opinion (a thing which, in substance, has 
 been said abundantly, and which the words which we use to express 
 excellence, a very abstract idea, are, owing to the nature of language, 
 not unlikely to suggest), I would refer him to what Paley says about 
 ' happiness.' He is satisfied with explaining the term 'in a comparative 
 sense,' as a ' relative term,' the degree of it depending on the excess of 
 pleasure over pain : and while speaking of various possible positive or 
 non-relative significations of it, treats the consideration of them as not 
 of great importance. (Paley, Mor. and Pol. Phil B. i. ch. 6.) Happiness, 
 in fact, like excellence, is an * idea,' in regard of which mutual communi- 
 cation of thought is very difiicult, and variety of human opinion great, 
 while at the same time we cannot help taking much account of such 
 opinion : but this is no reason why we should in either case distrust the 
 reality and importance of the idea, and confuse it with the human 
 opinion which we perhaps cannot help intermingling with the designa- 
 tion of it. 
 
 8 
 
114 THE REAL GOODNESS OF VIRTUE. 
 
 into moral consideration by Aristotle, is simply that 
 according to which a man, as one man, differs for 
 the better from other men, and as man differs for 
 the better from other races of creatures. He investi- 
 gates the generic excellence of man, which will give, 
 according to the measure of it in each man, his indi- 
 vidual excellence. 
 
 It is on an analogy of this kind in reference to 
 
 the use of the words ' high ' and ' low ' that a grand 
 
 though insufficient system of morality may be (and 
 
 to a certain extent has been) founded. Virtue in 
 
 general would consist, according to such a system, 
 
 in man's living worthily of his high place in the 
 
 creation as the noblest of animals, and individual 
 
 virtue would consist in the superior degree in which 
 
 one man did so in comparison with another. 
 
 The words But the tcrms ^high' and 'low ' receive a further 
 
 'low' have application from the fact that man has been from the 
 
 secomi ap- ^^'^^ beginning of moral philosophy considered a mi- 
 
 piicationin crocosm, or universe in himself, havinof what we may 
 
 reference . . . ' . . , , . 
 
 to the in- call au luward organization. The principles and im- 
 sSion^of pulses upon which he acts being thus regarded as 
 mp^Blftier i^embers of an internal constitution, or parts of an 
 on Con- internal system, the idea of subordination and rela- 
 tive importance among them is of immediate occur- 
 rence. This internal constitution in earlier times 
 rather suggested the idea of a state with govern- 
 ment, in later times rather that of a machine or 
 system with regulation. It is to the former idea 
 that the words ' high ' and * low ' more properly be- 
 long : and when Bishop Butler, in the last century, 
 after transforming the idea of the moral principle 
 as the governing power in a state into the idea of 
 it as the regulating power in a machine or system, 
 (an idea more agreeable to the then habits of 
 thought,) goes on to speak of the moral principle or 
 
THE REAL GOODNESS OF VIRTUE. II5 
 
 conscience as having 'divine authority/ and uses 
 other similar phrases, we feel that such language 
 belongs rather to the older, than to the newer, edi- 
 tion of the theory. 
 
 To recapitulate what has been said : man is. Thus ac- 
 morally speaking, (that is, independently of what taiied 
 religion may teach us of his dependence in these JfjJftf^^Jf 
 respects upon a superior and divine power), of his ^ts results, 
 own moral making, and it is his nature to aspire. In it is a put- 
 thinking of himself as having powers, and asking of mlll'!^' 
 himself how he may best use those powers, the idea ''JJ^^j''^''^^ .^ 
 of action as honourable and worthy cannot fail to approaches 
 come to him; and though this idea may be connected 
 very much with actual estimation, and in this respect 
 with opinion and praise from others, it does not 
 depend upon this: the feeling or action is felt as 
 having a value on which the praise worthiness fol* 
 lows; and a value in itself, besides what may be 
 given to it by its result, by the good it does. This 
 value may be considered to consist first, in the good- 
 ness or desirableness which attaches to human action 
 as the putting forth of man's nature, independently 
 of uses which such action may subserve : and se- 
 condly, in the degree of approximation to an ideal 
 which it is man's nature to form imaginatively and 
 to aspire to. 
 
 The idea that man's moral beinsf is an internal The morai- 
 
 ■+ f If 
 constitution is the foundation of the morality of self- gJvenT 
 
 government, and of that view which would describe '^J?*^ ^ 
 
 virtue as the acting upon the higher principles of our founded 
 
 nature; a view which perhaps, if we look at the idea of an 
 
 whole literature of moral philosophy, may be con- conJtiui- 
 
 sidered to occupy the larger part of it. In some J'"""' ^''i^'* 
 . . . . ^ to supply- 
 
 respects, the utilitarian view (rather than exactly the a purpose. 
 
 utilitarian philosophy) may be considered to have auism at- 
 
 been a reaction against the too exclusive prevalence tnemedy 
 
 8—2 
 
Il6 THE REAL GOODNESS OF VIRTUE. 
 
 this defect of tMs view^ and not an unwholesome one. When 
 faTonThe we seo SO much said, as moral philosophers have 
 other side, g^^jj^ about self-control, self-government, self-cultiva- 
 tion, one is apt to ask. What is it all for? does 
 morality, after all, then, end in ourselves? do we 
 live here only to live, and not to do anything, not to 
 do any work, not to carry into effect any purpose, 
 more, that is, than to take care of ourselves ? A 
 good deal of the ancient philosophy, growing vigor- 
 ously and nobly as it did for a certain distance, 
 seemed to strike upon a stratum it could not get 
 through, and so to become after a time stopped and 
 stunted, obliged to rest contented with man being 
 an end to or for himself, good passing of life or good 
 self-management his highest aim, no idea being at- 
 tained of action as real doing or production, but only 
 as acting for acting's sake. So far as utiUtarianism 
 in this state of things may be regarded as supplying 
 to men an end beyond themselves, it has done for 
 moral philosophy exactly what was wanted, and has 
 really given to it a new life. Utihtarianism is of 
 course not the only thing which has tended to do 
 this. 
 
 But insufficient as the philosophy of mere high 
 and low self-command may be, occupying itself so 
 much in oiling the machine and keeping it in repair 
 as never to set it to work, the philosophy of utili- 
 tarianism on its side is insufficient, so far as it thinks 
 to supersede the other : thought needs to be given 
 to the machine which is to do the work as well as 
 to the nature of the work to be done. And in truth 
 this machine is more than a machine, for the work 
 is for it as well as it for the work. 
 moral phi- ^^ ^^^ tendency of moral philosophy has in the 
 losophy so main been to dwell too exclusively on considerations 
 opinion: of self-command ; so the tendency of moral opinion 
 
THE REAL GOODNESS OF VIRTUE. II7 
 
 not philosophical has perhaps been to dwell too ex- considera- 
 clusively on considerations of honour. Honour, self- honour and 
 devotion, generosity, faithfulness, are things which ^l^on^'^oT*' 
 draw much attention and strike the mind. It has "*'^i^y *'"® 
 
 both re- 
 
 constantly happened, that the standard of the world quired, 
 (so to call it) has been higher than that taught by 
 professed moralists: that is, those who think but 
 little about morality, and perhaps trouble themselves 
 very little to square their actions to it, nevertheless 
 when they do think about it, want it good and high. 
 The ordinary following of a worse standard may 
 even improve the intellectual view and approval of a 
 better, by preventing this from being too importu- 
 nate and troublesome. Consequently the standard of 
 moral opinion not philosophical has commonly been 
 a standard of honour high-strung and often noble, 
 but irregularly and capriciously applied, and lead- 
 ing, it may be, to vice rather than to virtue. Here 
 again the utilitarian view has done good service 
 in respect of moral opinion, as we have seen the 
 more distinct utilitarian philosophy has done in 
 respect of philosophy. Ideas of honour want some 
 questioning, though the too much questioning of 
 them would be the ruin of the best part of human 
 nature. While the poets, who in the mouths of 
 one and another of their characters may speak dif- 
 ferent languages, call honour at one time a bubble, 
 and at another the only thing worth living for, it 
 should be the business of philosophy to see what 
 there is in it valuable and what not. In this respect 
 iitilitarianism has done good service, only that a 
 morality of utilitarianism is as incomplete as a 
 morality of honour. Even human describable happi- 
 ness, valuable as it may be, would be increased at 
 too dear a rate, if we lost that variety of self-sacri- 
 fice, of enterprise, of trustfulness, of many oth^ 
 
Il8 THE REAL GOODNESS OF VIRTUE. 
 
 qualities of tlie same kind, which have a vakie higher 
 than anything can have as conducive merely to hap- 
 piness, (in so far as the elevation of mind attending 
 them is something itself better than the best happi- 
 ness) ; and yet which often, so far as results are con- 
 cerned, may seem mistaken and thrown away. But 
 still we want heroism shown and work done, both : 
 the former is not always empty where it has not 
 the latter to show, but at least it cannot be empty 
 where it has. 
 
 Having however explained so far what seems to 
 me to be the real goodness or valuableness of virtue, 
 and the degree to which utilitarianism has aided the 
 consideration of this, I will in another chapter ex- 
 amine the utilitarian exhibition of that goodness or 
 valuableness, and mention the points in which I 
 think it erroneous. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 UTILITARIAN VIEW OF THE GOODNESS OF VIRTUE. 
 
 Having given in the last chapter what seems to me 
 the proper account of the nature of virtue, and of the 
 reasons why we vahie it, I proceed in the present 
 chapter to make some remarks on the account which 
 Mr Mill gives of these same things. 
 
 I have prefixed to them some observations on There is no 
 the question how far it is necessary tliat there should assuming"^ 
 be one source or ultimate test of moral valuable- ^^^V^®""? 
 
 can be only 
 
 ness, and one only. For the reader will bear in ««« ^^^^ 
 mind that my disagreement with utilitarianism has value at- 
 mainly reference to its claim to supersede all other ^tj^nf *° 
 philosophy, and to occupy the whole ground of mo- 
 rals to itself. I do not deny the importance, in re- 
 gard of actions, of their conduciveness to happiness: 
 what I controvert is the philosophy which would asr 
 sert that there is no other original and primary rea- 
 son which can make us take interest in actions, and 
 consider them good or valuable, except this. 
 
 It appears to me, then, that the utilitarian for- 
 mula, (namely, that action is right or good, in pro- 
 portion as it tends to promote happiness), if meant 
 not only to describe a fact, but to express also the 
 meaning of rightness or goodness, or tell us what 
 
I20 UTILITARIAN VIEW OF THE GOODNESS OF VIRTUE. 
 
 it is that constitutes the lightness or goodness of 
 an action, is insufficient, whatever modification we 
 may give to the idea of happiness, or in whatever 
 way we may determine that. Right action may be 
 conducive to happiness as it may be to various other 
 things, and this may be one character to know it 
 by: but if it is intended to express that it is this 
 conduciveness which, in our world of men, makes 
 the Tightness or goodness, the formula, as I have 
 said, is insufficient. For that there is and must be 
 recognized by men a goodness or valuableness quite 
 different from conduciveness to happiness, such as 
 that which I have described above, cannot, I think, 
 be doubted. There is nothing which need surprize 
 us in there being more than one sort of moral value 
 attaching to actions : and it is far better to submit to 
 whatever philosophical disappointment we may feel 
 in having to acknowledge such a plurality, than to 
 outrage at once the well-observed sentiment of men, 
 and the inward language of our own heart and rea- 
 son. If we listen to the voice of human nature, we 
 must put by the side of the utilitarian formula, as a 
 sister, one of this kind : Actions are right and good 
 in proportion as they rise above the merely natural 
 or animal conditions of human nature, (as self-care 
 or self-preservation), and the obedience to immediate 
 impulse, more especially to the impulses of bodily 
 passion and excitement. 
 ijtiiita- What utilitarians will say (and Mr Mill in these 
 
 tiTaTcon- papers has said some things to that effect^) is, that 
 toTr^r^ they recognize this latter kind of value of actions as 
 ness is the dependent upon the former : that the experience of 
 mate test mankind, in observing what sort of actions are most 
 vaiue,^and for the general interest, has led them to attribute 
 has^niyr ^^ virtuo and generosity a value which has adhered 
 
 1 p. 53 &c. 
 
UTILITARIAN VIEW OF THE GOODNESS OF VIRTUE. 121 
 
 to them SO closely through association and habit, secondary ' 
 that we now think it primary and original, whereas rived from 
 it is only secondary and derived. In reality, how- goSa^fo^' 
 ever, as I have shown before, value for actions asThey^o*"- 
 
 1 • 1 7 1* • t g^t that 
 
 conducive to the general happmess is as much a care for the 
 secondary and derived principle (if either are tOh^pfness 
 be called so) as value for actions in their character ^Jj^^y 
 as virtuous or generous. The simply natural prin- ^envative. 
 ciple in the one case is regard for happiness (if we former 
 are so to call it), or rather, desire of one thing and n^t^ar 
 another, for ourselves. And along with this, in the ^^^l^^^l^^j^^ 
 other case, as I have said, is the similarly natural t^^e latter 
 
 P T r ,' U • r the natural 
 
 feeling oi activity or consciousness or power; com- desire of 
 mensurate, of course, in the first instance, with our moralized^ 
 consciousness, that is, only prompted to operation by ^J^^g^^^ 
 circumstances of our own being. Sympathy in the pathy. 
 region of feeling, duty in the region of reason, moral- 
 ize (to use Mr Mill's word) these merely natural feel- 
 ings. The general happiness is then thought of and 
 wished for, and (correspondently with this) a purpose 
 for action beyond our immediate selves, and beyond 
 what our bodily feelings prompt, is thought of, and 
 wished for. And I do not see why we should say 
 that elevation of mind (to use that expression) de- 
 rives all its moral value from the action for the 
 general happiness which it prompts, rather than we 
 should say that action for the general happiness 
 derives all its value from the elevation of mind 
 which it implies in those who act thus. Happiness 
 is a good thing, and elevation of mind is a good 
 thing : why, as men are here, each should not be 
 good with a goodness of its own, why we must 
 derive one from the other, I cannot tell. 
 
 Among the different characters which an action The hon. 
 may have, it seems clear that its being good as hon- thrriiht 
 ourahle or generous^ good as right (the nature of^"^*^® ^" 
 
122 UTILITARIAN VIEW OF THE GOODNESS OF VIRTUE. 
 
 useful, are which ffoodness I shall speak of in a moment, in 
 
 mdepend- . ^ -t^ ^ ^ ^ 
 
 ent ideas, treating of dutj), good as useful, are different ideas : 
 they^iead it may bo the fact that an action which is good in 
 sL^t^prac- ^^y ^^^ ^f ^^® ways is good in the others also : we 
 ticai result, may conclude that it is likely to be so, from the con- 
 sideration that were it not so, morality would be a 
 perplexity in which it would be even impossible for a 
 man to see his way clearly : the proving that it is so, 
 so far as it goes, is a proving that the different parts 
 of the moral world are consistent and good. But 
 supposing any one should refuse to give up the 
 ideas of fairness and generosity as independent ideas, 
 and to merge them into that of usefulness, and say 
 that all that they have of moral goodness is derived 
 from that character in them; I do not see to what 
 kind of proof Mr Mill can appeal to convince him. 
 It does not seem to follow from the nature of things 
 that there can be no possible character about ac- 
 tions besides their comparative usefulness which may 
 make one morally preferable to, and more to be re- 
 commended than, another : it certainly seems to be 
 a fact that men do value fairness and generosity 
 without the appearance that they do so only because 
 these things are publicly useful. Doubtless a mo- 
 rahty of utility may be constructed; the idea of 
 moral goodness may be attributed to the ' useful 
 alone; other ideas about actions, which it is admit- 
 ted lead in most respects to the same practical result 
 as considerations of utility, may without great diffi- 
 culty be considered as dependent upon them; but 
 still the question will remain, does all this either 
 answer to what people do think, or can it be proved 
 that it is the way they ought to think? 
 AmoraKty A morc and exclusive morality of utility may 
 ciusiveiy thus, it appears to me, exist with just the same 
 upon the ^j^gj^^g ^f truth and advantage as a mere and 
 
UTILITARIAN VIEW OF THE GOODNESS OF VIRTUE. 123 
 
 exclusive morality of self-command, self-cultivation, useful is 
 and generosity. With moderate claims on theiS^^T^' 
 part of each, they may both exist independently J^^^^^^'^y 
 and without contradictinor each other : if either either of 
 
 !• 1 1 ^ n ^ -i i *^*e others 
 
 claims to occupy the whole held, and to represent would be. 
 the whole fact as to human morality, it is so far 
 false and wrong. But when they keep clear of each 
 other, they may be said to treat of different subjects, 
 and move in different elements. This is a disadvan- 
 tage as causing a waste of words in argument, for 
 there is no common standard or principle on which 
 the argument is to go, and each brings charges 
 against its opponent which are of importance only 
 from its own point of view, and from any other are 
 no charges at all. It is further a disadvantage in 
 respect of the whole consideration of morality, as 
 causing a divorce of things which ought to be con- 
 sidered together, and in regard of which the argu- 
 ment ought to arise, not from a claim of one or the 
 other to the dominion, but from the effort to show 
 how it is that, each having its own truth, they yet 
 exist in harmony together, as observation of life 
 shows us that in the main they do. And from 
 this disadvantage moral philosophy itself gets into 
 deserved discredit. The man without moral philoso- 
 phy cannot help sometimes feeling himself of wider 
 and truer views than those who profess to teach him, 
 however little he may be able to answer their argu- 
 ments. 
 
 Speaking generally, partial systems of morality, The partial 
 of which utilitarianism is preeminently one, take of eaTh^"^ 
 their orisrin from a reluctance on the part of their ^y^*^™®^. 
 
 o ... . rnor:uity is 
 
 authors to face the real difficulties of ethics. ' It is shown in 
 morally good to act for the general happiness.' This tive^'siTe'. 
 is the fact, agreed upon by all. "What is it that is 
 morally 7iot good, which stands in opposition to this ? 
 
124 UTILITARIAN VIEW OP THE GOODNESS OP VIRTUE. 
 
 for the knowledge of this must determine what we 
 may call the point of the former proposition. Here 
 it is that partial systems begin. In answer to the 
 latter question, utilitarianism says, Acting for un- 
 happiness. Utilitarian moral philosophy thus has 
 for its subject the finding out what happiness is, as 
 distinguished from unhappiness, and how it is to be 
 acted for. In answer to the same question another 
 philosophical system will say. Acting for our own 
 happiness rather than for that of others or for the 
 general happiness. And such a philosophy will have 
 for its subject the considerations of sympathy, duty, 
 virtue, or whatever else raises the thoughts from in- 
 dividual desires and interests into the wider and 
 more general sphere. The two philosophies, it will 
 be seen, need never meet. Both are partial, but of 
 the two it is the latter which is the more exten- 
 sively applicable, and the more like what people in 
 An action general will understand as moral philosophy. We 
 the'truir feel the value of our own happiness, but we should 
 ^^TJZf i^ot feel the value of that of others if we had not 
 
 nas more 
 
 than one the Capacity and, as a moral feeling, the tendency 
 goodness, to Hsc abovo the consideration of our own indi- 
 vidual interests. So on the other side we have 
 this latter capacity and tendency, but it is not such 
 virtue as we can imagine and should wish for, un- 
 less it is rightly applied, and unless the happiness 
 of others is really advanced by it. In an action 
 then which, in the truest and widest sense, we should 
 call right or good, there is more than one sort of 
 goodness. And unless we treat rightly this variety 
 of rightness or goodness, our moral philosophy, what- 
 ever side we take, must be partial : and we shall 
 not be able to argue against opponents of it without 
 being in danger of arguing against something which, 
 it is probable, an impartial and practical reader will 
 
UTILITARIAN VIEW OF THE GOODNESS OF VIRTUE. 1 25 
 
 consider to be morally as important as anything 
 which we defend. 
 
 I have said nothing about Mr Mill for some time. Mr Mm 
 The manner in which his way of thinking differs vi*rfuVi^** 
 from mine may be seen perhaps best in p. 56, where b"e^irthe' 
 he is speakinsf about the love of virtue. He there first in- 
 says that virtue is originally and in the first instance a means to 
 only valuable, or ' a good/ as a means for the pro- uoXf hap' 
 duction of happiness : but that, from the associa- ^^Tf^ ^^^ 
 tion of the idea of it with the idea of the happiness ["ind of the 
 of which it is productive, it may, as a psychological Is not i^a 
 fact, come to be looked on by the individual as valu- unJ^eM^uf^ 
 able in itself or a g^ood in itself. The next step how- ?°°?^« *<* 
 
 " , , ••■ . look upon 
 
 ever taken by Mr Mill puts me in some little diffi- it as vaiua- 
 culty ; for he says, speaking in the name of utilitarians^, self!" 
 ' that the mind is not in a right state, not in a state 
 conformable to utility, not in a state most conducive 
 to the general happiness, unless it does love virtue in 
 this manner — as a thing desirable in itself,' inde- 
 pendent of the production of the consequences on 
 account of which it is held to be virtue. When we 
 find such language as 'the mind being in a right 
 state ' in the mouths of impugners of a supposed in- 
 tuitivist philosophy, we are at first probably led to 
 think whether such a philosophy be not what ' ex- 
 pellas furca, tamen usque recurret :' what, utilitarians 
 and positivists though we be, we cannot avoid. 
 We must not indeed press the word 'right,' (or 
 'ought,' which is very likely to occur in the same 
 manner), into particulars, and conclude from it that, 
 do what we will, we cannot avoid confessing in our 
 language a morality of rule as against a morality of 
 end or consequences : but we may conclude that we 
 cannot write many consecutive words upon a moral 
 
 ' p. 53- 
 
126 UTILITARIAN VIEW OF THE GOODNESS OF VIRTUE. 
 
 subject without involving what I have called 'ideal- 
 ism' as contrasted with 'positivism/ whether the 
 ideal be a rule to act by or an end to gain. The 
 mind's ' being in a right state ' is something ap- 
 parently which Mr Mill's readers are expected to re- 
 cognize and understand. An appeal is made to an 
 idea which they are supposed to have. So far as 
 such an appeal is really intended, I cannot see wh at 
 is the use of professing to build the philosophy on 
 experience as contrasted with a supposed intuitivism. 
 Which is If we conclude however that ' right ' here has no 
 
 that which reference to 'reasonable' or 'proper,' but is explained 
 forthe^in- ^J the expressions which come afterwards, so that 
 bliifvT^ol^ what is meant is that it is conducive to human happi- 
 that which noss that men should be under this delusion, I can only 
 
 the system jI j ii • t tt '^^ 
 
 teaches 1 Say that tJiis sooms to me very extraordmary. U tili- 
 
 reaUy vaiu- tariauism says that the Tightness, goodness, valuable- 
 
 *endentr ^^^^ ^^ actions lics ouly in their conduciveness to 
 
 ofconse- happinoss, and yet we are told that it is right and 
 
 is it not? conducive to happiness that men should believe in 
 
 something (virtue to wit) as having a goodness and 
 
 value in itself, independent of its conduciveness of 
 
 happiness — is not this equivalent to saying, that 
 
 however true utilitarianism may be, it is not well 
 
 that men should believe in it and act upon it ? Is it 
 
 a sort of arcanum, upon which the initiated may act, 
 
 while the ordinary world will best be left to the old 
 
 delusion of regard to, and value for virtue ? 
 
 Mr Mill It seems to me that if utilitarianism does recog- 
 
 evade Hizo virtuo, as we may be certain that such utilitarians 
 
 ctity'^y ^s Mr Mill will do, the only way in which it can 
 
 h?m^^f to ^^^^^ t^^^^ difficulty of making virtue, the so-called 
 
 action and child of Utility, suporsedo its parent, or utilitarianism 
 
 takTfeei- ^ tcach in practice non-utilitarianism, is to divorce the 
 
 Sunt, considerations of action and feeling, and say that, 
 
 while Tightness of action consists in conduciveness to 
 
UTILITARIAN VIEW OF THE GOODNESS OF VIRTUE. 127 
 
 happiness, goodness of feeling consists in regard to 
 virtue : then to vindicate the former as the true pro- 
 vince of utihtarianism, leaving the latter to whatever 
 philosophy may be able most fitly to deal with it. 
 And this is what Mr Mill, in his utilitarian character, 
 appears to do. In pages 26, 28, he mentions two 
 objections which have been made to utilitarianism, 
 and replies to them. The first objection is that it Example of 
 gives too high a standard for individual action, viz. hiTanswer 
 regard to the general interests of society : the second, *g(,*|jjn^^" 
 that it makes men cold and unsympathizing, having that utm- 
 regard only to the dry and hard consequences of gives too 
 actions. Mr Mill answers the first objection partly, stLdard; 
 as it seems to me, by rather unsaying what he had 
 said in the previous page, and giving as utilitarianism, 
 not what he had there given, the idea of the arith- 
 metical equality of the happiness of each, but the 
 idea, inconsistent with this, which is given us by con- 
 siderations of sociality, sympathy, and duty. All 
 this I have to a certain degree spoken of before. 
 But he answers the same objection partly also by 
 drawing attention to the distinction between the rule 
 of action and the motive of action. And he vindicates 
 to the utilitarian moralists, as compared with others, 
 the praise of having taken special care to maintain 
 that the motive has nothing to do with the morality of 
 the action, though much with the worth of the agent. 
 
 I will ask the reader to bear this in mind for a (2) in hia 
 short time while we turn to the other objection, that the object 
 utilitarianism makes men cold and unsympathizing, ^^^'J'J^^^. 
 taking account, as it does, only of the hard and dry ism makes 
 consequences of action. Surely if all those considera- sympathiz- 
 tions of sociality and sympathy, which Mr Mill gives ^°^* 
 with such beauty in his third chapter, can be claimed 
 by utilitarianism, a most triumphant answer may bo 
 given to this charge. But it is not so answered by 
 
"^28 UTILITARIAN VIEW OF THE GOODNESS OF VIRTUE. 
 
 Mr Mill. Eather, he finds in it a gross misappre- 
 hension of the meaning of a standard of morality, 
 and of the words right and wrong. The purpose 
 of utilitarianism, he tells us, is to show us what ac- 
 tions are right and wrong, independent of any con- 
 sideration of the character or feelings from which 
 they emanate : this is a process of simple reason, and 
 the expressions hardness and dryness constitute there- 
 fore no charge in regard of it. These are my words : 
 but I do not think I am misrepresenting what Mr 
 Mill says at greater length. ' There may be,' he says, 
 ' many other things to interest us in persons, besides 
 the rightness and wrongness of their actions:' 'many 
 desirable qualities and possessions besides virtue,' 
 (which 'virtue' here must mean, I suppose, the bright- 
 ness of actions' mentioned above, so far as that may 
 be called a quality and possession:) 'the considera- 
 tions whether the man who acts is amiable, brave, 
 benevolent, or the contrary, are relevant, not to the 
 estimation of actions, but of persons.' And he then 
 goes on in the next paragraph to do in regard of this 
 objection what I have mentioned his doing in regard 
 of several others, namely, to admit the reasonable- 
 ness of the charge to a certain extent, and in refer- 
 ence to some utilitarians, ' who have cultivated their 
 moral feelings, but not their sympathies, nor their 
 artistic perceptions \' 
 Suchase- I think it must be concluded from all this that 
 the mOTaT utilitarianism, to say the least, does not succeed bet- 
 from the ^^r than any of the partial systems of morality which 
 tSmis- ^^^® gone before it in giving us what I may call a 
 chievousiy morality of human nature. For myself, I should 
 the scope waut uo more to condemn an ethical system in my 
 phibsophy; eyes, than the fact that it did nothing to prevent 
 and is also ^j^^ cultivation of the moral feelings apart from that 
 
 ' p. 29. 
 
UTILITARIAN VIEW OF THE GOODNESS OF VIRTUE. 1 29 
 
 of the sympathies, nor can I understand the nature inconsist- 
 of the moral feelings which can be so cultivated. Mr MiU's 
 They can hardly be the same feehngs which Mr MiU^ -^^ '""'^• 
 has described as ' moralizing' a merely natural feeling, 
 (that, namely, of resentment) : for these are feelings 
 of 'the demands of social good:' and the manner in 
 which these feelings arise by sympathy is pointed out 
 by Mr Mill in the very admirable passage to which I 
 have so often referred. They are moral feelings to 
 which, not to say artistic perceptions, but even con- 
 siderations of amiableness, bravery, benevolence, are 
 not relevant : they take account, it would seem, of a 
 few only of the things which interest us in persons' 
 or of *the desirable possessions and qualities' which 
 there may be in them. I do not think that this is 
 the sort of moral philosophy which we want. I do 
 think that now that Christianity is come, we might 
 have a moral philosophy going ethically as wide as it 
 goes : a philosophy that, — 'whatsoever things are true, 
 whatsoever things are honest or venerable, whatso- 
 ever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, 
 whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are 
 of good report, if there be any virtue and if there be 
 any praise,' — should think and tell us about all these 
 things. So again moral philosophy is wanted to cor- 
 rect general feehng and literature, and for this pur- 
 pose it must have its range as wide as they: 'Quic- 
 quid agunt homines, votum, timer, ira, voluptas, 
 gaudia, discursus,' should be, not the ' farrago ' of its 
 books, but if possible their digested substance. 
 
 Instead of this, Mr Mill seems to exhibit to us, as a phiioso- 
 the utilitarianism which he defends, a system which ghowTsudi 
 in its practical part, when it moves in the midst of^'^l^P^^- 
 
 , . , . lect con- 
 
 the breathing and living world of men, is one of bare ception of 
 
 p. 76. 
 
130 UTILITARIAN VIEW OF THE GOODNESS OF VIRTUE. 
 
 human na- aiid narrow-minded reason, while in its higher and 
 qualifies theoretical part, where reason is specially wanted, it 
 ^ud^ment ^^^^^ ^® ^^ty ^^^ ^^^^ assumption, that happiness 
 of human in the vaguo idea of it, without consideration whose 
 ^ ^ " or what it is, is the only thing which man either 
 does, or can, consider valuable. And how can men, 
 who leave out of their moral account so much that 
 is of interest in man, who admit that their way of 
 cultivating their moral feelings affords but a partial 
 and narrow developement of their nature, be com- 
 petent to know and to tell man what is his happi- 
 ness, upon which knowledge (in their view) that of 
 right and wroDg entirely depends? That utilitarian- 
 ism supposes human happiness, as it does, to be so 
 readily known and so simply acted for, which is in 
 the eyes of Bentham and others a main proof of its 
 truth, is to me a sign of an imperfect conception of 
 human nature which is entirely condemnatory of the 
 philosophy. We are to trust the calculation of what 
 constitutes our happiness, and consequently the de- 
 termination of what is right and wrong for us, into 
 the hands of men who avow themselves neglectful 
 and incognizant of much which we cannot but con- 
 sider the most important part of our nature. 
 General It is uot howovor here my purpose to remark fur- 
 
 ca/'S^^' ^^^^"^ ^^ ^^® imperfect manner in which utilitarianism, 
 cuityof of the kind which Mr Mill here refers to, must ludsfe 
 
 explammg . i i •!• 
 
 thereia- of our happinoss, but rather to observe that utili- 
 
 righAc- tarianism does not seem better able than the philoso- 
 
 good*feei- plii^s before it to solve the difficulty of the relation 
 
 i^s- between right actions and good feeling or character. 
 
 In a general way, philosophers have found it difficult 
 
 to look at the two in conjunction. The history of 
 
 moral philosophy shows an oscillation from the one 
 
 side to the other, each successive change of view 
 
 seeming to its initiators a great reform or regene- 
 
UTILITARIAN VIEW OF THE GOODNESS OF VIRTUE. I3I 
 
 ration. Ardent spirits, impatient at the resultless- 
 ness of one or the other view, whichever it has 
 been^ and probably little acquainted with past phi- 
 losophic history, have thought that they were enter- 
 ing on a new course when they rushed over to the 
 other view. It is thus that in the Scotch philosophy, 
 say of Dugald Stewart, moral philosophy is con- 
 sidered a theory of human good feeling, and little or 
 nothing is said of what we ought to do; while to the 
 more practical mind of Bentham moral philosophy 
 offers itself simply as showing what we ought to do, 
 and about good feeling or character we have very 
 little. 
 
 Wherever morality ought to take the form of it is only 
 law, it is most important that the distinction, which ^nty tXa 
 Mr Mill has observed upon, between the rightness off^^^^^J"^^^^^ 
 the action and the worthiness of the a^ent should be the t;^« 
 
 „. ^ . should be 
 
 most carefully attended to. Ihere are many circum- kept 
 stances in regard of which there is one right thing to ^^'^^^' 
 be done by the agent whoever he may be, and where 
 his character in respect of these is of no account. 
 But of the mass of human actions, it is but a small 
 part that can be predetermined by reason in this 
 manner. The term 'action' denotes an abstraction 
 which, in respect of a great deal of moral conduct, is 
 hardly applicable. The mass of human life consists 
 of action or behaviour not aimed at an end or fixed 
 by a rule, but resulting from our general manner 
 of thinking and acting. And thus Mr Mill's use of 
 the phrase 'morality of an action' to express only 
 the legal definability of it as a thing to be done ; the 
 contrast of the morality of the action, thus under- 
 stood, with the worth of the agent, and the apparent 
 consideration of the former only, or at least pre-emi- 
 nently, as the thing worth consideration in moral 
 philosophy; — all this seems to show that tendency to 
 
 9—2 
 
132 UTILITARIAN VIEW OF THE GOODNESS OF VIRTUE. 
 
 divorce things which it should be the business of 
 moral philosophy to consider in conjunction, to which 
 I have more than once alluded. I question whether, 
 upon any principles belonging to itself, utilitarianism 
 ca7i bring the two things together. 
 Both con- In fact it seems to me that the two considera- 
 are neces- tious, that of uscful couduct and that of virtuous feel- 
 ^'^'J'af ing, can best be brought together 171 the end by the 
 gooJness. f^]} recoguitiou in the heginning of the difference of 
 idea which there is between them. The idea of vir- 
 tue arises from there being in us a disposition and a 
 temptation to something which nevertheless there is 
 also an impulse in us to rise above, and it is this 
 rising which constitutes virtue. (As- I understand 
 what I have called philosophical utilitarianism or uti- 
 litarianism in its better form, a great point of it is 
 the negation of this fact as being of any moral signifi- 
 cance.) At the same time that there exist in us 
 this temptation and this impulse, there exist in the 
 world around us various purposes to which our ener- 
 gies may be directed. Of these purposes, the wor- 
 thiest in fact and in its nature is that of the general 
 happiness: but the one most pressing upon us, most 
 allying itself with what I have called the lower dispo- 
 sition and temptation, is what, not very correctly 
 but intelligibly, we may call our own happiness. It 
 is essentially above this temptation to consider our- 
 selves alone that the upward impulse, which is vir- 
 tue, raises us : and at the same time reason and 
 moral imagination or sympathy supply to the feeling 
 thus elevated an object and a purpose, and confirm 
 its elevation. Moral goodness, so far as these two 
 considerations are concerned, flows from the meeting 
 or confluence of them as constituents of it: it com- 
 bines, that is, desirableness of end and worthiness of 
 principle or motive. It is a condition of our world 
 
UTILITARIAN VIEW OF THE GOODNESS OF VIRTUE. 1 33 
 
 that the two are able to run together : we can imagine 
 a world in which virtue might of necessity be barren, 
 in which, for example, the risks of nature might be 
 so great that no course of action could be depended 
 on for any result — even then virtue w^ould preserve 
 its value : and virtue gives the larger contribution to 
 the stream of complete moral goodness, for if we 
 imagine a state of happiness in which there was no 
 place for virtue, nothing as it were for it to do, I am 
 not sure that happiness would preserve its value. 
 
 In actual practice too, in the conduct of life, the 
 two considerations do not hinder, but aid, each other. 
 
 Having spoken so far on the subject of virtue, I 
 will proceed now to duty. 
 
 itJNIVERSIT 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 DUTY AND THE UTILITARIAN SANCTIONS. 
 
 The idea of Not to dwell then longer on virtue, I come now to 
 congenial anothsi kind of moral value attaching to actions, 
 to utihta- naniely, that which belon2:s to them as parts of duty. 
 
 ijans in . . . . 
 
 general, as actions which we ought to do. This idea of duty, 
 
 with its associations of stringency and particularity to 
 
 which I have already referred \ is less congenial to 
 
 utilitarianism than the greater freedom of virtue. 
 
 Utilitarians as such would, I should conceive, prefer 
 
 the non-existence of the idea ; but it is so necessarily 
 
 present to the minds of all, that account has to be 
 
 given of it, and Mr Mill has accordingly given such 
 
 an account in his third and fifth chapters. 
 
 General "Whatever people may think about the utilitarian 
 
 cTuty^ ac'- formula or maxim to which I have so often alluded, 
 
 right' when ^^^^ '^^ '^^ ^^J ^^^0 ouc fomiula or maxim of higher 
 
 it is what and more immediate evidence, namely, that an action 
 
 we ought ... .., , 1 
 
 to do. IS right Avhen it is what we ought to do, and wrong 
 when it is the reverse. The maxim however thus 
 stated will probably appear insignificant and a mere 
 identical proposition: right, and ^what we ought to 
 do,' mean the same thing. If however, like Mr Mill 
 in stating the utilitarian formula, we neglect in the 
 word right the signification of exact duty involved in 
 it, and mean by it only in general, good, preferable, 
 
 ^ See above, p. 96. 
 
DUTY AND THE UTILITARIAN SANCTIONS. 1 35 
 
 choiceworthy, fit, proper, desirable ; and if, while 
 understanding the first member of the proposition 
 thus generally, we understand the second particularly, 
 and consider what is meant by saying Sve ought to 
 do a thing'; we have a maxim then which has mean- 
 ing in the same manner that the utilitarian formula 
 has, and which may take its place beside it for us to 
 compare what degree of truth there may be in each. 
 
 Mr Mill seems to hold that the word rights in its MrMiUdi- 
 strict sense, is applicable to all our action which isJaiTctTon 
 good, proper, or morally to be preferred to other '"^^^^^j*^^ 
 action; that all such action is in a manner duty orto?neof 
 what we ought to do : (at least it is thus I understand idea of 
 his speaking of a 'sanction' applicable to all the action piicLTe m 
 which we do upon any moral consideration^). At the ^jJ^tTthe 
 same time he considers that there is a certain portion other in 
 of the action which in this sense is right, or what we sense. 
 ought to do, to which the idea that 'we ought to do 
 it' applies in a very special and peculiar manner, 
 quite different from the manner in which it applies 
 to the rest I And with all this he considers, as an 
 utilitarian, that the only real or fundamental moral 
 difference of actions is their being, or not being, useful, 
 or (as I have called it) felicific^. On this view, all 
 these ideas of actions being right or what we ought 
 to do, in any distinct meaning of the words, must be 
 either illusions, or forms of language, or ideas only 
 derivative from, or dependent upon, utility. Mr 
 Mill as a philosophic utilitarian has a difficult task 
 before him. The more thorough-going utilitarians, 
 whom he defends without great apparent sympathy 
 with them, proceeded more vigorously in the matter, 
 and were rather disposed to think that such words as 
 
 1 Util. ch. 3. 2 jjj^ cli. 5. 
 
 ^ See above, p. 67. 
 
136 DUTY AND THE UTILITARIAN SANCTIONS. 
 
 'ought/ in a moral application, had better not have 
 existed \ 
 
 Mr Mill has one chapter on Duty or on the 
 
 Sanction of Morality, and another on Justice. In 
 
 the former of these he may, speaking generally, be 
 
 considered to deal with the application of the idea of 
 
 an action being right, or what we ought to do, to the 
 
 whole of morality : in the latter, with its application 
 
 to the more particularly binding portions of it. 
 
 Mr Mill's The former of these chapters Mr Mill entitles 
 
 term^'sanc- ^^^ ^^^ ultimate sauctiou of the principle of utility,' 
 
 *^^"' and out of a variety of synonymous expressions which 
 
 he collects at the beginning of the chapter he selects 
 
 that of 'sanction' as the most fit and, I suppose, the 
 
 most readily understood. With respect to this term, 
 
 from which I cannot think moral philosophy has 
 
 derived any advantage, I can only speak for one on 
 
 the question of intelligibility ; but when applied so 
 
 loosely as it is here and by utilitarian writers in 
 
 general, I do not think it much Iielps understanding, 
 
 and I still less think that it helps truth. 
 
 illustrated Pei'haps the reader may best understand the 
 
 poTdTn- matter in this way : we can imagine one man asking 
 
 qnestbn,^^ witli regard to a proposed action of another. What 
 
 •What is there that should make you do it ? The question, 
 
 makes you ^ . ii'ii i • 
 
 do such as i mean it, would imply that the questioner wanted 
 an actr ^^ bo informed as to a supposed state of facts which 
 renders the action what should or ought to be done : 
 it is the same as the question. What inducement is 
 there for you to do it ? on the supposition of the in- 
 ducement being somewhat of an imperative and sub- 
 stantial, not merely imaginary, nature. The word 
 ' inducement ' thus understood will, I think, more 
 
 ^ Compare the often quoted sentence from Bentliam's Deontology : 
 *If the use of the word ('ought') be allowable at all, it ought to be ban- 
 ished from the vocabulary of morals.' — Ed. 
 
DUTY AND THE UTILITARIAN SANCTIONS. 1 37 
 
 readily convey to the reader what ought to be meant 
 than the word * sanction/ 
 
 The person questioned might answer, Nothing The answer 
 makes me do it : I do it because I choose. ^ In thus such as to 
 answering, he dismisses or ignores the notion of J,^"^''^'"^^^"*^ 
 distinct inducement altogether; or, if we suppose ^^^ The^^^J^^; 
 question to refer to good action in general, he ignores in that case 
 altogether the idea of duty or sanction. And this is ceS from 
 much the easiest and simplest position for utilitarians tlry^pHn." 
 to take up, with whom, as I have said, the idea of^ipJ®°^ 
 
 ^ ' , virtue ; as 
 
 duty is at best a puzzle. Supposing anybody had is shown in 
 suggested to Bentham to ask himself the question prl^ticdl^ ^ 
 which Mr MilP supposes somebody asking himself, p^JI^^^^^' 
 Why am I bound to promote the general happiness? 
 I should have thought the answer which both Ben- 
 tham's feeling and philosophy would have suggested 
 to him would have been^, '^I do not know" that I am 
 bound to do it at all : at least I have not much thought 
 whether I was : the very thought would rather imply 
 that 1 should naturally wish something else : I do it 
 because I choose it, because I can conceive nothing 
 more worthy of myself and everybody to do: I can 
 hardly imagine anybody, unless influenced by private 
 and sinister interests, thinking otherwise : my view of 
 my business as a moral philosopher is that I have to 
 study human happiness, and tell those who think in 
 these respects as I do how they may best promote 
 it: with those who do not care to promote it, or 
 require to be bound to it before they do so, I have 
 really no common ground to argue on." 
 
 We have here utilitarianism built upon a founda- 
 tion of virtue or generosity, the radical idea of which 
 
 ^ Util. p. 39. 
 2 Bentham's supposed answer agrees very well with his account of 
 himself in one of his last memoranda : " I am a selfish man, as selfish as 
 any man can be. But in me, somehow or other, selfishness has taken the 
 shape of benevolence." Works^ xi. 95. — Ed. 
 
138 DUTY AND THE UTILITARIAN SANCTIONS. 
 
 I have described as being Hhe doing of what is good 
 and worthy because we choose to do it:' and the 
 virtue of the basis is to me the strongest argument 
 against the truth of the utilitarianism which makes 
 the superstructure. If men were once persuaded 
 that it was only happiness as happiness, which 
 moralized actions directed towards it ; then, con- 
 sidering always that the happiness which must first 
 present itself to our mind is our own, I do not see 
 whence the virtue would arise which could lead to 
 such self-devotion to the general happiness as marked 
 the life of Bentham. Utilitarianism owes all that is 
 strong and good in it to a principle alien to itself. 
 Or the an- Kotuming to our question, we will suppose that 
 brsuch^as ^^^ person questioned has an inducement, and is able 
 *?,^''^\^j*^ to erive a reason for his conduct. The answer may 
 
 either Mr ^^ ^ ^ -J 
 
 Mill's ex- be either, I cannot help doing it, because the good 
 his inurnai rosult which I hopo for from the doing it, or the bad 
 result which I anticipate from the not doing it, is 
 so great: or the answer might run, I must do it, 
 because it is my business, it is what falls or belongs 
 to me to do, it is what I am called upon to do, it is 
 what is incumbent upon me. 
 
 The former of these two kinds of inducement, 
 that of hope and fear, is what Mr Mill calls by the 
 name of external sanction : inducement of the latter 
 kind corresponds to what he calls internal sanction, 
 but the account which he gives of it is not, it 
 appears to me, the proper one. 
 
 Indeed I think it must strike the reader of this 
 chapter of Mr Mill's, that however beautiful in 
 several points of view, it is altogether unsatisfactory 
 as an account of 'duty' or 'sanctions.' External 
 sanctions are very slightly alluded to, and are dis- 
 missed by Mr Mill almost with contempt : and of 
 the internal sanction all he seems to tell us is, that 
 
DUTY AND THE UTILITARIAN SANCTIONS. 1 39 
 
 it is 'a subjective feeling in our own minds \' Its 
 nature as a feeling lie afterwards describes very 
 beautifully : but its nature as a sanction, why it 
 should have this name given to it, he does not seem 
 to tell us at all. I do not see what fresh knowledge 
 the telling us that it is a feelirig, and that it is a 
 subjective feeling, gives to us when we know it is in- 
 terncil : nor do I see what a subjective feeling is here 
 intended to be distinguished from. Nor do I see 
 again how a feeling can be a sanction, except on a 
 particular supposition which we shall notice presently. 
 But I will first say a word on the term 'sanction.' 
 
 The term ' sanction ' has reference to a law. A The term 
 law has two characters about it : one, that it is IsTeg^-. 
 founded on supposed reason, which those subjected j.*^^^^''|^^^ 
 to it, since they are intelliofent beings, more or less as consent- 
 
 . / • P 1 1 • • edto,butas 
 
 enter mto and are cognizant or, so that their acting compelling 
 according to the law is in part a continuance of the fea^of pu- 
 same operation of reason which determined the ^ishment. 
 making of the law. Law in this view of it is analo- 
 gous to usage and custom : it was described by the 
 ancients as being d/^oXoyta, an agreement or common 
 understanding. Setting aside certain exceptional 
 cases, the manner of action of the law upon the 
 minds of the intelligent mass of those subjected to it 
 is by more or less of consent to it, that is, to the 
 reason of it ; for they have the physical force on 
 their side, and the law could not exist any further 
 than as it was thus in practice consented to. But 
 besides this (since, whatever might be the general 
 consent, there will always be a great deal of indi- 
 vidual tendency to disobedience) a law is provided 
 with ' sanctions,' wdiich fact gives to it the second 
 character which I spoke of; that is, there is a 
 
 1 mil. \x 41. 
 
140 DUTY AND THE UTILITARIAN SANCTIONS. 
 
 recognized authority in whose guardianship the law 
 
 is, and punishments are denounced by this authority 
 
 against those who disobey the law. In reality, there 
 
 is no real significance in extending the term 'sanction' 
 
 to include appeals to hope, namely, promises or 
 
 bribes^ the word means really an appeal to fear 
 
 alone, as by threats of punishment. And to be used 
 
 with any propriety at all, it must always represent 
 
 not a feeling, but a fact before the imagination as 
 
 dreaded, though indeed that fact, so far as the word 
 
 goes, might be a future feeling, as a matter of dread. 
 
 In refer- Now, ovon with regard to our view of law, it is 
 
 raiity it always a mistake and a misfortune when the force 
 
 substitute of law is considered to reside only in its sanctions or 
 
 ^^^''^^^^^ denunciations of punishment. This however is not 
 
 eniorced l 
 
 obedience my busiucss now. But it is a greater mistake and 
 felt duty, misfortune still when this view is transferred to the 
 law of morality or of duty. And a part of the view 
 of law as resting thus only upon sanctions is, that 
 law must then be considered only as imposed by 
 sovereign or superior power without regard of the 
 sympathy or agreement of those subject to it. The 
 supposition of law being under the guardianship, 
 not of rightful authority, but of arbitrary power, is 
 bound up with the supposition of its acting only 
 by punishment. And when these suppositions are 
 transferred to morals, we pass entirely away from 
 the idea of felt duty to that of enforced obedience. 
 The substitution of this idea of obedience for that of 
 duty seems to make this part of morals so easy and 
 simple, that it has abundantly been made : it has 
 had charms for religious minds, on account of the 
 infinite greatness and worthiness of Him to whom 
 in the main duty is owed, God : it has had charms 
 
 ^ Austin {Jurisprudence, Vol. i. p. 8) finds fault with this extension 
 of the term ' sanction/ as 'pregnant with confusion and perplexity.' — Ed. 
 
DUTY AND THE UTILITAHIAN SANCTIONS. I4I 
 
 for another class of minds as getting rid of any 
 feeling of distinction among actions other than what 
 may arise from the fact that some are commanded, 
 some not. 
 
 The reader will understand now why I said some 
 time since that the use of the term ' sanction ' in ex- 
 plaining the idea of duty helped neither understand- 
 ing nor truth. Supposing any proper meaning of 
 ' sanction ' is kept to, the idea of duty is disfigured 
 and disguised : suppose the meaning of ' sanction ' is 
 loosely extended, the reader is merely puzzled. 
 
 Mr Mill, thouQfh usins: the word 'sanction,' toMrMiU's 
 
 internal 
 
 which, as a professed utilitarian, we may suppose sanction is 
 him in duty bound, does not at all keep to the idea. periyT 
 He dismisses shortly, as we have seen, the external ^"^^^^^ ^^ 
 sanctions, to which the term properly applies. He 
 certainly was not likely to be satisfied with, or take 
 pleasure in, the idea that duty is simply that, which 
 if we do not do, we shall be punished. He accord- 
 ingly comes to his internal sanction. But the word 
 ' sanction,' we have seen, means an appeal to fear: 
 a ' sanction ' is something intended to act upon the 
 present feeling by imagination of something in the 
 future ; which something in the future may indeed 
 be a future feeling of pain counteracting the present 
 feeling : but to give the name of ' sanction ' to a 
 present feeling of dislike, or pain, or whatever it 
 may be, is an entire misuse of language. Such a 
 present feeling may be a very real thing, but it 
 can tell us nothing about duty : it can do nothing 
 to answer the question with which Mr Mill begins 
 his chapter. Why am I bound to do such and such 
 a thing ? And thus all the feeling of sociality, into 
 which he so beautifully developes his internal sanc- 
 tion, though most real, does nothing to explain what 
 he is here explaining. 
 
142 DUTY AND THE UTILITARIAN SANCTIONS. 
 
 Two views In reality, the inducement, in the way of fact, 
 analogous which Icads US to do what we think to be our duty, 
 J?*7°^ is of the same double kind as that whicli I have 
 
 kinds 01 ^ ^ it' 
 
 obedience described to be the inducement to the obedience to 
 law in general : and so I have above supposed the 
 answer to the question, Why must you do such a 
 thing ? what is there to make you do it ? either 
 to have regard to something which will happen to 
 us according as we do, or do not, the thing ; or to 
 have regard to the fact of the thing being in some 
 way what we are called upon to do, what belongs 
 to us. It is the latter of these which is the proper 
 feeling of duty, or of the thing being due from us : 
 and it is analogous to that feeling of the reason 
 of a law which makes us obey it as consenting parties 
 to it, independent of any sanction. The former of 
 the two kinds of answer implies a view of duty, if 
 we are to call it so, analogous to such obedience as 
 is rendered to laws in view of their sanctions or de- 
 nunciations : it is not the rational recognition of 
 duty or dueness, but the feeling, animal as well as 
 rational, of constraint or compulsion, acting by means 
 of threats arid fear. It is a very real view of duty, 
 and a very efficient one ; but subsidiary to the other, 
 and of a far less worthy nature. 
 lUustra- To take a particular case in illustration — the 
 
 from^thr duty of truthfulness — suppose the question asked 
 truthful- which Paley begins with^ : Why am I obliged to 
 ness. keep my word ? or, as I have expressed the question, 
 this duty Why must I speak the truth ? what is there to make 
 ing^to'^'^'' me 1 Paley answers the question at once from the con- 
 S aJcord- sideration of the external sanctions, and very broadly, 
 ing to uti- as his wont is, considers the obligation to be constraint 
 generally, ob ewtva, quito independent of any reference to the 
 
 1 B. II. ch. I, 
 
DUTY AND THE UTILITARIAN SANCTIONS. 1 43 
 
 thing itself due ; — we must do it, because we shall be (3) true 
 fearfully punished if we do not ; and if we do this ^°"° * 
 and other things, shall be largely rewarded. "With 
 respect to this consideration, valeat quantum — let it 
 influence those whom it does or may influence. And 
 the same with regard to a more worthy consideration, 
 which would probably be given as the utilitarian 
 answer to the question, namely, the vast advantage 
 to society of general truthfulness. This, in so far as 
 it enters into the reason of the law or practice, is a 
 partial recognition of duty. But I apprehend that 
 the real answer, which is felt in the minds of those 
 who feel simply and well, is: 'I feel that I must 
 speak the truth because I know that I am trusted : 
 I feel that trust reposed in me calls for truthfulness 
 from me, and calls with a voice which I cannot stifle 
 or disobey : it is the person who trusts me to whom 
 in the first instance I am under the obligation of 
 truthfulness, an obligation under which he by his 
 trust lays me, which so far makes me not free, and 
 binds my action.' I say * in the first instance/ 
 because though this is, I believe, the fundamental 
 form of the duty of truthfulness, it is not the only 
 form in which, if we are morally instructed, it should 
 be felt by us, nor altogether the form in which it 
 should be left : truth is a duty to society, and this 
 consideration may, under exceptional circumstances, 
 modify the other : but it is a duty to the other 23arty 
 first. It is a duty too which preeminently takes to 
 itself the character, besides that of duty owed to any 
 one, of individual virtue : thus considered, it is in- 
 dependent of any feeling of the other party towards 
 us. And our consideration of the vast usefulness 
 and absolute necessity of truthfulness to society is 
 well calculated to enlarge and elevate our notion of 
 the duty of it : in the true and higher notion of duty 
 
144 DUTY AND THE UTILITARIAN SANCTIONS. 
 
 therefore we are bound, as to speaking the truth, in 
 the first instance to the listener who trusts us, in 
 the second instance to society, of which we are a 
 portion, and which calls for this on our part and in 
 its measure trusts or reckons upon us also. The 
 constraint which Paley speaks of is not the obligation 
 itself, but only a subsidiary, or in a manner accidental, 
 appendage to it : and even our recognition of truth- 
 fulness as useful to society is not the essence of the 
 obligation, though it falls in with it, and greatly aids 
 it : the obligation or duty is as I have described. 
 
 As we are In the samo manner as we are bound to truth- 
 bound to pi 11j/»' • 11 
 
 truthful- lumess, so we are bound to jairness m general ; and 
 arrbouuT ^^^ ^^^^ important points as to this houndness of us 
 to fairness to duty, or biudingnoss of duty upon us, are in the 
 the feeling' first place that it is particular (of this we have 
 makeTus spoken already^): and in the second place, that the 
 fa^tr °^ feeling which we have on the subject is one which 
 which con- is understood by us as pointino^ to a fact. The 
 
 stitute the , , i i • i . • p 
 
 obligation, bouuduess 01 Obligation is oi course, as we are aware 
 of it, a feeling : for in reality, some feeling of our- 
 selves is all that under any circumstances we are 
 aware of * ; the external world is, if we choose to 
 consider it so, a mass of impressions on the eye, ear, 
 &c., from which are evolved, in the mind, certain 
 results. But the feeling of obligation, like the feel- 
 
 1 See above, p. 96. 
 * When Mr Mill speaks, p. 41, of the 'internal sanction of duty' as a 
 'subjective feeling of our minds/ the question arises, Does the subjective 
 feeling that we ought to do something suggest to us that there exists 
 objectively something which we ought to do ; in the same way as the 
 feeling of resistance to the closing of our fingers suggests the idea of a 
 hard body in our hand ? And if it does, is the suggestion legitimate ? 
 Are we right in concluding that such a thing does exist? In other 
 words, if we have a subjective feeling that in important points the great 
 heads of our rational and proper action are settled for us, so that as 
 regards these points we are under rule ; may we conclude from this that 
 we are under rule, or is the feeling chimerical ? 
 
DUTY AND THE UTILITARIAN SANCTIONS. 1 45 
 
 ings which make us aware of the external world, is 
 a feeling which we understand as representing facts 
 independent of us. It is not the feeling which binds 
 or obliges us, but it is the state of facts of which 
 we are thus made aware through the feeling. 
 
 The fact of which we are informed by our feeling The facts 
 of duty is, in the first instance, that we are bound or we are thus 
 under various obHgations ; in the second, that we are ware^^re 
 responsible for the fulfilment of these oblisrations. (^)*^^^^® 
 
 •*■ ^ " ^ are bound 
 
 So far as we fail in our duty, we mentally recognise to the other 
 ourselves first as wrong-doers, or in the wrong ; that (^^that we 
 is, our aspect in regard of the party to whom our g^bieTo^the 
 duty is owed : next as punishable ; that is, our as- ^^p^|^^J 
 pect in regard to whatever superior authority may 
 be the guardian of law and duty. The notion of 
 duty carries with it that it is claimable by the party, 
 and then enforceable by the superior authority back- 
 ing him or coming into his place. 
 
 This fact of duty, or of dueness of an action from ths fact 
 one man to another, arises in the main from the fact arises ^rom 
 of the difference among men, and their complicated v|ty,\nd ^ 
 relations with each other, that same fact which we ^''^^ ^^® 
 
 . ,..,. various re- 
 
 had to bear in mind in considering the distribution lations in 
 
 of action for their happiness. The fact of duty again, ^alld u^^ 
 
 like that of virtue, is connected rather with the fact ^^"^^ ''^^^''• 
 
 of the activity of man than with his capacity of 
 
 happiness : with his having powers to be used, rather 
 
 than with his wanting happiness to be enjoyed. 
 
 These powers are his rudimental property. In the 
 
 view of virtue, as we saw, his powers are his own, to 
 
 use as he w^ill, nobly if he chooses. But in reality 
 
 man is born into a complicated scene, and before he 
 
 is conscious or a free agent, he is hampered round 
 
 with all sorts of circumstances, which, in a different 
 
 point of view, make a large portion of his powers not 
 
 his own, but variously due. And being, as he is 
 
 10 
 
146 DUTY AND THE UTILITARIAN SANCTIONS. 
 
 aware he is, born into society, and feeling as he per- 
 haps does, how important his action is, how much of 
 result to himself and others may flow from it ; it 
 is not unlikely that he may feel bound in regard to 
 all his action, unable to believe himself his own 
 master, and doubting whether he really and properly 
 is so. This is the general feeling of duty. 
 Reason it- Koasou itsolf constitutos to a certain extent a 
 restriction bouuduess of this kind : action according to reason 
 enaction g^ands in contrast to action which is capricious. 
 
 as on ^ , , , ^ 
 
 thought. Keason, intellectual, is the restraint of wild freedom 
 of thought by reality and fact : and (conformably to 
 this) reason, moral, is the restraint of wild caprice 
 of choice by mora;l fact, that is, by considerations of 
 our actual relations with others, as these concern our 
 action. 
 Recogni- The simplo particularity of our, duty, as regu- 
 
 dut ^L l^^i^^^ ^^6 distribution of our action among possible 
 particular, objects of it, is what is expressed by the term 
 officia. officium : a table of our ojfficia, such as we have in 
 the Church Catechism in the answer to the ques- 
 tion 'What is thy duty towards thy neighbour?' 
 is in reality an exhaustive, though summary, scheme 
 for the entire regulation of our moral action, as com- 
 plete as would be furnished us by a knowledge of 
 the particulars of the happiness of others, and by a 
 table of the different kinds of conduct promotive 
 of it. For we stand in some relation to everybody : 
 in the relation of fellow-men to those to whom we 
 stand in no other. And we may say in general 
 that of all this duty there are different degrees of 
 stringency, imperativeness, or enforceableness, form- 
 ing roughly a scale. Roughly only, because there 
 are different manners in which one and another duty 
 is owed, rendering it difficult to bring them into 
 measurement together. Gratitude for instance is a 
 
DUTY AND THE UTILITARIAN SANCTIONS. 1 47 
 
 duty of fairness or justice, and in this way far more 
 imperative than any call upon us for the simple duty 
 of kindness, however urgent: and yet in definiteness, 
 and therefore in this respect in stringency, it is a 
 duty far beneath the simplest duties of exact justice, 
 as honesty. 
 
 In general, the recognition of duty, as particular, 
 (and by particularity I mean a continually expand- 
 ing scale of it, terminating in wide generality) corre- 
 sponds to that acknowledgment of the law in the 
 reason of it, of which I have spoken : the recogni- 
 tion of duty, as enforceable, corresponds to obedi- 
 ence to law in view of its sanctions. When we do 
 our duty, as duty, we act not freely indeed, as in the 
 case of what I have called virtue, but we give the 
 law to ourselves, or in scriptural language, we are a 
 law to ourselves : when we do our duty as what we 
 may be made to do, or punished if we do not do, 
 we act quite as in bondage, though it may be a 
 noble bondage. 
 
 But I will close this chapter, in order to pro- 
 ceed in the next to what is said by Mr Mill on this 
 subject. 
 
 10—2 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 DUTY AND THE UTILITARIAN JUSTICE. 
 
 In his Mr Mill, as I have mentioned, gives two chapters. 
 Justice, one on moral sanctions or obligation, the other on 
 ^rt^iiy justice. The two subjects are plainly kindred, and 
 utmta^L- ^^ order to judge of Mr Mill's idea of duty, they 
 ism by in- must bc put together. I have spoken a good deal 
 the ideTof about the former of them. In the second of the two 
 dut'yl'Tnd chapters he tries to show that the strong and marked 
 by recog- {^q^^ which pcoplc havc of justice as a virtue distinct 
 
 nizing vast ... 
 
 distinc- from kiudncss, which is felt as a difficulty in the way 
 tw^n dif- of utilitarianism, is not really such a difficulty. In 
 SnX^of doing this he seems to me really to give up utili- 
 utiiity. tarianism, a main feature of which, and one which 
 has perhaps giv^n more offence than any other, is 
 the assigning universal utility as the reason for rela- 
 tive duty ; saying, for instance, that we should love 
 our parents and repay grs itude to a benefactor, 
 because it is for the general happiness that these 
 things should be done. Mr Mill, on the contrary, 
 makes 'the disappointment of expectation^' one of 
 the greatest miseries which one person can inflict 
 upon another, and therefore one of the worst things 
 which a man can do (it being an undoubted fact that 
 
 1 Util.V'^9- 
 
DUTY AND THE UTILITARIAN JUSTICE. 1 49 
 
 the person who has done a benefit does expect a 
 return, that the trusting person expects truth, the 
 mother expects affection, &c.). In doing this he in- 
 troduces in reality the whole idea of fairness and of 
 relative duty, and abandons the proper utilitarian 
 supposition that human happiness is something defi- 
 nite, the same in the main for all, which we must 
 impartially strive to produce for all, independently, 
 it is to be supposed, of what one and another expect 
 of us. Again the saying^, that * certain utilities are 
 vastly more absolute and imperative than others,' 
 and are ' guarded by a sentiment different in kind' 
 from that which attaches to others, seems to me the 
 giving up, for all practical purposes, utility in itself 
 as the test of rightness. If we have to recognise 
 vast distinctions among the different sorts of utility, 
 and to take into the consideration of utility other 
 considerations of quite a different kind, as of different 
 kinds of sentiment with which the utilities are ac- 
 companied ; I do not see why the philosophy should 
 be called utilitarianism more than anything else. 
 
 The peculiar sentiment attaching, in Mr Mill's His view 
 view, mainly to certain preeminent utilities and in unlike that 
 a less degree to the whole of utility (which peculiar Jven^ J^ 
 sentiment constitutes the former of these into the ^¥ *^."® ^ 
 
 IT* • • 111 • View in ch. 
 
 obligations of justice, and the latter mto the general vm. 
 obligation of duty) is (it would appear) of a double 
 nature ; having reference, partly to another party 
 whom the action conct ns, in which case the senti- 
 ment is the feeling of the wrong which there is in 
 disappointing expectation, and partly to a supposed 
 superior power or authority, in which case the senti- 
 ment is the feeling of duty as enforceable (the word 
 is mine), a thing which we may be punished for neg- 
 lecting or disobeying. This account of the matter, 
 
 ^ Util. p. 94, 
 
150 DUTY AND THE UTILITARIAN JUSTICE. 
 
 SO far as it is thus double, answers in a great mea- 
 sure to what 1 have given as in my view the right 
 account. The idea of taking care not to disap- 
 point expectations' is hardly different from the idea 
 of Haking care to satisfy claims,' which is in le- 
 gal language, ^ respecting rights,' ' suum cuique 
 tribuere,' in Scripture language, 'rendering to all 
 their dues.' All that seems in this respect re- 
 quired to qualify the whole mass of jural ethics for 
 being embraced under the vast wing of so-called 
 utilitarianism, is that it should so far change its 
 language as, instead of rights and dues, to speak 
 of 'reasonable expectations.' Of course what is thus 
 reasonable can only be determined on the principle 
 of what is fair. And the sentiment of duty is in 
 reality nothing more than the feeling o^ fairness, 
 the true feeling of equity, as distinguished from the 
 feeliDg, wrongly assumed by Mr Mill as human and 
 general, of the eciuality^ of one person and another. 
 Equity deals in the main with differences among men, 
 with various 'expectations' (in Mr Mill's language), 
 between one and another, and is what really consti- 
 tutes society: equality, when the members of it are 
 brought into juxtaposition, only leads to gregarious- 
 ness. But of this anon'^ 
 It is how- But though Mr Mill's account thus to a consi- 
 ciaTre-^^^ dcrablc degree falls in with what I have given, there 
 source to ig y^f^ much difference. The notion of the import- 
 ciaidiffi- ance of particular expectations or, as I should call 
 doeYnot"^ them, claims, comes in strainedly, because, to Mr 
 belong to ]y[Qi'g wider view, dissatisfied with the narrowness 
 
 nis general ^ / 
 
 system, of utilitarianism, it must do so ; it comes m, according 
 to the purpose of the chapter in which it is contain- 
 ed, to meet a difficulty, not as something naturally 
 suggesting itself This method of expansion of phi- 
 
 ^ UHl. p. 91. ^ See below, eh. xx. 
 
DUTY AND THE UTILITARIAN JUSTICE. 151 
 
 losopby, the modifying and adding to it in order to 
 meet difficulties, is not, I think, a very hopeful pro- 
 cess for the discovery of truth. It is the old plan, 
 ' to save appearances' by accumulating cycle on epi- 
 cycle where the fault is in an originally wrong sup- 
 position, and it wants that disposition to look the 
 facts in the face, to look at the whole in conjunction, 
 which is likely to be best for truth. 
 
 It will be seen at once that Mr Mill's account Elsewhere 
 of law and duty in p. 71 embraces one only of the penaf sane- 
 two features which I assigned as belonging to them, gg^ej^^^^e^of 
 the latter and the less important. ' Penal sanction,' law, and 
 he says, * is the essence of law.' Of course I do not tain modi- 
 suppose him to be single in saying this. He has of duty; 
 abundant authority, such as it is. When he comes 
 however to ' duty,' (though it is only for the purpose 
 of explaining this that he discusses law at all), he 
 modifies his language ' : * It is part of the notion of 
 duty in every one of its forms, that a person may 
 rightfully be compelled to fulfil it.' (The italics are 
 mine.) Of 'duty' then, as he properly says, the 
 sanction is not the essence, but is only ' a part of 
 the notion:' and the compulsion to do it must be 
 ' rightful,' that is, it must not be compulsion simply 
 by arbitrary power, but by proper authority: in 
 other words, the subjects and the power are bound 
 up into one society, rightful action being required 
 from the power as well as from the subjects; or in 
 other words, again, duty being superior over both, 
 duty being in fact, even as between the subject and 
 the enforcing power, something between two parties, 
 not simple obedience to the latter. The fact then 
 of duty being a scheme of recognised relation or 
 mutual dueness between parties, is what, if we 
 look at the former portion of Mr Mill's sentence, 
 
152 DUTY AND THE UTILITARIAN JUSTICE. 
 
 we must consider to constitute ' the rest of the notion 
 
 of it' besides the part here given; if we look at the 
 
 latter portion, it is what is understood in order to 
 
 give us the meaning of the word 'rightfully/ 
 
 overlook- All this which is true about duty is true in the 
 
 Skw^^^ same manner about law in general. The penal sanc- 
 
 invoives tion is really not the essence of it, it is only 'a part 
 
 well as of the notion of it :' and in order that the state should 
 
 power. j^^ ^^^ ^£ ^^^^^ ^^^ ^£. g- j^pig violence, the compulsion 
 
 which results from the sanction must be 'rightful,' 
 that is, the compelling power, that which affixes and 
 enforces the sanction, must be 'rightful/ that is, again, 
 it is itself part of the society which the law constitutes ; 
 bound by the law to its subjects as they to it: it is 
 authority recognised by them as a part of the whole 
 order of which their obedience is another part. And 
 the most important part of the notion of law is, not 
 its penal sanction, which concerns only such as may 
 have inclination or temptation to disobey it, but the 
 recognition by those subject to it, of a regulation 
 of their actions towards each other in a manner 
 which their individual reason and consent more or 
 less falls in with, 
 inconciu- Mr Mill, as I have said, follows abundant authority 
 thret'ymo- in his vicw of the matter, and in his etymological 
 ^^^^^^^ ^®^" support of it. Etymological reasoning however in 
 which he moral subjects is a most narrow and difficult path 
 this. between false etymology on the one side and false 
 reasoning about possibly true etymology on the 
 other. Mr Mill, as we should expect from a logician, 
 is fully alive to the danger of mistake in reason- 
 ing, but not fully alive to the danger of mistake 
 in etymology. Justum^, he tells us, 'is a form of 
 jussum, that which has been ordered.' The reason 
 why it is well to be mo^t cautious in moral reason- 
 
 1 p. 69. 
 
DUTY AND THE UTILITARIAN JCJSTICE. 153 
 
 ing from etymology is that here at least we must 
 'drink deep, or taste not:' if we examine in that way 
 any of our words, we must examine all of them. 
 One would have thought here that Mr Mill's ap- 
 parently casual use of the word ordered might have 
 made him hesitate a little in his conclusion, that ' the 
 generating idea of justice is the idea of legal con- 
 straints' How is it that in requiring, as a part of 
 law, that a thing should be done under some penalty, 
 we use the word 'ordered'? Why do we call it 
 'ordering,' not 'forcing,' except that the essential idea 
 of law is not force j but order f Of course Mr Mill 
 might have avoided any difficulty which may arise 
 to him from this word by saying for instance 'com- 
 manded,' though even here (in fact almost whatever 
 word he uses), if he follows out his etymology, he 
 will be led in the same direction. But laying aside 
 this, what is the meaning of saying that justum is a 
 form oijussum'f Has Mr Mill any reason for going 
 to jubeo, rather than to jus, for the idea involved in 
 justum f It does not seem to have occurred to him 
 that we must have some clear principle, grammatical 
 or philological, of the relative priority of words and 
 forms, before we can reason from words to the deduc- 
 tion and derivation of the ideas which the words repre- 
 sent. The dictionaries give us jubeo, command, and 
 certainly it is no difficult matter to conclude from this, 
 if we care to do so, that all words of cognate root must 
 have for their fundamental idea commanding. But 
 if we had opened the dictionary Sitjus, we should have 
 found it defined as a system of laws, a set of regulations 
 as to mutual rights, an order of private rights and 
 property; and there is no more reason, that I see, 
 
 1 p. 71. 
 ' Justus is of course derived immediately from JuSy like ontistuSy 
 sceleMiis, from omis, scelus, — Ed. 
 
154 I>UTY AND THE UTILITARIAN JUSTICE. 
 
 why we should deduce this from juheo or jussum, than 
 
 jussum from this\ I am aware that some of the 
 
 Romans themselves did as Mr Mill has done here: 
 
 in fact it is rather to the stage of etymology which 
 
 such speculations represent that his reasoning here 
 
 belongs ^ 
 
 The facts Any Speculation on etymological grounds with 
 
 lawTsbind- respect to the order of ideas in reference to law and 
 
 d^efed^as' duty, though most interesting, is so exceedingly un- 
 
 theembo- certain that it is safer to g^ive little attention to it, 
 
 diment of i p i • i • • • j • 
 
 reason ra- and rather to look at the lact : and in this view it is 
 of force^^ to bc Said that the essence or main signification of 
 'law' is regulation, order, distribution, arrangement, 
 and that the enforcement of this order by denunciations 
 of penalty or sanctions upon the individuals subject 
 to the law is, though real, only a secondary or sub- 
 sidiary portion of law. The law taking effect among 
 reasonable beings similar to those from whom it had 
 its origin, the same reasons which determined its origin 
 must be supposed to weigh with them in maintaining 
 the observance of it : or if we like rather so to express 
 it, law binds each successive generation not simply 
 
 ^ Jiibeo is in fact derived by one of the most eminent of living 
 etymologists from jus habeo, and jus is supposed to be connected with 
 the root J?^, to bind, Gr. ^euyi/u/xi. See Corssen {Krit. Beit. p. 421, 
 Ausspr. II. 50,) who compares judex (from jus dico) for the disappear- 
 ance of the final s, and prwbeo, debeo [prw-hiheo, de-hiheo) for the con- 
 traction of habeo. The original meaning of jubeo he takes to be ^fur 
 Recht halten^ and explains from this the usual construction of juheo 
 . with a following accusative and infinitive. Mr Roby, to whom I am 
 indebted for these references, gives me the following as his own view : 
 * I have come to the conclusion that the original root was Jo??. The v was 
 hardened into h in the verb as in huhile for hovile: and the perfect 
 jussi is a mistaken spelling for the older jousi. The Romans fancied 
 the h of juheo to be assimilated, whereas really the v was vocalised : 
 caveo, causa, euro form no bad parallel to joveo (Jubeo), jus, juro^ — Ed. 
 
 2 The doctrine v6\i.o^ ov cfyva-ei to dUaiov is common enough in both 
 Greek and Roman writers, but I have not found any ancient authority 
 for the etymology of Justus which Mr Mill has given after Austin and 
 Home Tooke. — Ed. 
 
DUTY AND THE UTILITARIAN JUSTICE. T55 
 
 in virtue of the tradition of its original enactment, 
 but the continued consent to it is a continued re-en- 
 actment. It is evident, both, that that is not law, 
 but simple violence, which is made with no view, even 
 mistaken, to the good of the society of which it is 
 the law, and also that the real binding force of the 
 law upon the mass of the society subject to it is 
 not anything in the sanctions of the law, but is the 
 consent given to it and the sympathy felt with it, 
 unthinking indeed often and merely habitual, but 
 still real. Law is the public reason of a society, par- 
 ticipated in more or less by the mass of individuals, 
 enforceable upon all who will not participate in it. 
 
 Duty, as I have said before, is moral or right ac- Duty, as 
 tion considered as obedience to a supposed law — obe- ^^ ^"^1^^^ 
 dience (as is the true character of obedience to law) jn^pi^fs 
 
 , >» . ' ^^' 1 • • both these 
 
 m the first instance intelligent and consenting, m character- 
 the second responsible. The former manner of obe- " ^^* 
 dience has no direct reference to the authority which 
 is the guardian of the law : the mind of the framer 
 of the law is sympathized with, but the care of the 
 authority for its maintenance and enforcement is no 
 matter of direct contemplation : the law is obeyed 
 in its particulars in virtue of the same reason which 
 directed the framing of it in its particulars: it is the 
 name of a recognised system of rights and duties, the 
 reason and force of which is in themselves. In the 
 latter manner of obedience, it is not the reason of 
 the law, but the fact that it is the law, that is looked 
 to. And all this, which is the case with law, ap- 
 plies to duty, as obedience to the general moral 
 law. The two manners of obedience are conjoined 
 in human action : according to constitution and cha- 
 racter, there is more of one or of the other. The 
 essential principle of the former manner is some- 
 thing of submission, self-resignation, willingness to 
 
T56 DUTY AND THE UTILITARIAN JUSTICE. 
 
 accept direction : the essential principle of the lat- 
 ter is something of anxiety and fear. The submis- 
 sion and self-resignation of the former becomes in 
 many cases noble self-devotion, whether to a cause 
 or to individuals: duty is by no means necessarily 
 regard to abstract law or right, it is regard to indi- 
 viduals or to societies to whom our duty is due, 
 or whom we consider w^orthy of our service or our 
 devotedness. And in respect of the latter manner 
 of obedience, the feeling of responsibility may as 
 naturally be elevating to the mind as lowering : it 
 may give importance to our action without generat- 
 ing servile fear in regard of it. Both kinds of obe- 
 dience are thus in their way good and even noble : 
 the former the nobler and better. 
 Mr MiU's What we commonly understand by justice is that 
 thrSo^ part of duty in which the manner of the action is 
 CTowthof ^^^^ clear and the parties most definite, and in 
 the idea of which most commouly actual human law has inter- 
 ofiaws. vened to fix what should be done. Mr Mill has 
 most ably classified the various kinds of justice. 
 He has also given an account of the relation be- 
 tween human law and our notion of a general 
 moral law. He considers law, as we have seen, to 
 be that which is ordered or commanded under 
 penalties; injustice he considers, in the first idea 
 of it, to be disobedience to such law; afterwards 
 men, from experience in making and changing laws, 
 came to understand that existing laws might be bad 
 laws, and so acquired the notion of 'laws which 
 ought to exist*, ' whether or not they existed actually ; 
 and injustice came to mean disobedience to these. 
 In this way men rose to the notion of a law of laws, 
 or a superior and ideal law, difierent from any actual 
 syijtems. The notion of a system of 'laws which 
 
 ^ UHl. p. 70. 
 
DUTY AND THE UTILITARIAN JUSTICE. 157 
 
 ought to exist' is a very good expression for what in 
 fact is the Roman Stoic or philosophico-juristic 
 notion of jus, that ideal law described so loftily by 
 Cicero and after him by Hooker, in language which 
 by Mr Austin^ (and I should fear too many of 
 Mr Mill's utilitarian friends would have been in- 
 clined to join with him) is called 'fustian/ Mr 
 Mill describes the way in which he supposes men to 
 have arrived at this notion. Whether this was the 
 way in which they actually did so is a matter of 
 history, and does not seem to me of philosophical 
 importance. It requires development of human in- 
 telhgence before the ideas, which either natively 
 belong to it, or are immediately suggested to it, can 
 take so much form and substance as to be recognisa- 
 ble and describable : and whether this is the parti- 
 cular manner in which the notion of jus or a law of 
 laws took such form, I think is not of importance. 
 
 But ' laws which ought to exist ' is language His de- 
 I think not very utilitarian, nor in conformity with of' Maws 
 the view of law in general which Mr Mill gives ^^J"'^^ ^^ 
 here, and which utilitarians have in e^eneral very exist' is 
 
 1 . 1 , ri^i • • r» (* ^ inconsis- 
 
 mucn taken to. ine supposition oi a set oi ' laws tent with 
 which ought to be made' having such a definite "smf^"''^' 
 existence in men's minds that the highly practical 
 idea of injustice is determined and made clear by its 
 apparent opposition to them, seems to me most alien 
 to mere or genuine utilitarianism, and is in fact a 
 recognition of what I have called the idea of duty. 
 Surely if this is so, in order to the making better 
 laws, we have got not only to systematize human 
 happiness afresh in utilitarian fashion, but it must be 
 worth our while to turn our attention to this law 
 of laws, to inquire what people have actually thought 
 of this, and to see whether there are not other ways 
 
 ^ Jurisprudence, i. 164. 
 
158 DUTY AND THE UTILITARIAN JUSTICE. 
 
 of learning what it is, besides observing the ten- 
 dency of actions to happiness, 
 and also Again : if, as is Mr Mill's view, we have no notion 
 
 Twn previ- ^^ ^^^ ^^^t instance of justice (which is surely tRe 
 0U8 deduc- same idea as the idea of that which we ought to do) 
 from com- beyond that of conformity to law or command, how 
 ™*°*^' can we ever from this make the step to the notion, 
 that one law ought to he rather than another? If 
 the notion of ^command' goes before Hhat which 
 ought to be,' where is the command in virtue of 
 which the laws which ought to be, ought to be? 
 Mr Mill tries to rise above his Hobbesianism, and 
 no wonder he should : but I do not think that logi- 
 cally he can. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE MORAL SENTIMENT IN ITS RELATION TO HAPPINESS, 
 VIRTUE AND DUTY. 
 
 But without dwelling longer upon duty, I will pro- 
 ceed to speak of the relations of the three, happi- 
 ness, virtue, and duty, to each other and to the moral 
 sentiment. 
 
 The desire of happiness, if this is the language in man as 
 which we like to use, is the simply natural principle, i^ere'^f ^ 
 which has nothinsr moral in it. It belonofs to man t^" simply 
 
 •in • 1 • 1 • • 1 natural 
 
 in conjunction with all sentient beings: and it is the tendencies, 
 
 1 . • r» (i) to the 
 
 same in man as in animals, except in so tar asgratifica- 
 by force of his reason it may be more systematic and /^^^tTacti- 
 methodical in the case of man. With them always, vity. 
 with him in the first instance, it is only obedience to 
 present desire. And corresponding to this desire of 
 happiness, there is in man (as in the animals) a 
 merely natural tendency to activity or the use of his 
 powers, which acts either for the gratification of 
 desire or for resistance to hurt and opposition. 
 
 It is when upon the natural question. How shall J^^^^^^^g of 
 I be happy or gain what I desire ? there supervene the bappiness, 
 
 virtue and 
 
 moral questions. What ought I to do ? how may I duty, are 
 live most worthily? how may I most promote the^ornXse 
 happiness of others? that the moral being of the man ^e^^^denlies. 
 awakens. The two former questions are results or Each of 
 developments of the activity of his nature, the latter is needed 
 
l6o THE MORAL SENTIMENT IN ITS RELATION 
 
 to give of its desire of happiness. But they are not only 
 value to results, they are ennoblements of this. In the moral 
 actions, nature of man these ideas or questions go toge- 
 ther: and the ennoblement, or in other words the 
 moralization ^, of the merely natural ideas and ques- 
 tions into these latter more elevated ones, arises much 
 from the influence of one of these ideas upon ano- 
 ther. Thus the merely natural question, What shall 
 I do with myself? is raised into the moral ques- 
 tions, What ought I to do? what may I do most 
 worthily? by the sight of others around us, by the 
 feeling ourselves in society with them, by the en- 
 tering into their wants through sympathy. In the 
 same manner, the merely natural question, How 
 may I promote my own happiness? is raised into the 
 moral question. How may I be useful, or promote 
 the general happiness ? by the feeling that we have 
 powers in us which need not be spent upon ourselves 
 alone, and which are most worthily spent when not 
 spent so; and that these powers are in many respects 
 not our own, are not given us only for ourselves. 
 The ideas of virtue and duty ennoble that of the 
 desire for happiness, as the idea of usefulness ennobles 
 that of mere activity. 
 Each is Utilitarianism consists practically in making the 
 
 BumJd*^" niost of the principle that action, for example, which 
 tiirhL- -^^ simply courageous and so far akin to virtue, 
 Sophies is yet not good unless some happiness of somebody 
 fesstobe is subserved by it; as there is no moral value in 
 cfusively" ^ mau's leaping into the sea to no purpose : and also 
 on one. ^\^^^ actiou, for example, which is simply ^a/r, and so 
 far akin to justice or duty, is yet not good unless 
 happiness is on the whole increased and not dimi- 
 nished by it ; as there is no moral value, but the 
 contrary, in the return of evil for evil, by which 
 ^ See above, p. 60, 
 
TO HAPPINESS, VIRTUE AND DUTY. l6l 
 
 happiness is diminished, though it may be fair. In 
 this the utilitarians are perfectly right: but they 
 just satisfy themselves with one side of morality, 
 leaving another clear to their adversaries, who with 
 exactly the same reason may, and do, maintain 
 against them, that an action which increases happi- 
 ness is yet not good unless it has in it virtue, or 
 duty, or both ; that is, unless it has in it the due pre- 
 ference of others to ourselves, and amongst others, 
 the due preference of those who have claim on us, 
 (it may quite come up to the utilitarian requisite of 
 being promotive of happiness, and yet have neither 
 of these characters) ; and also that an action is not 
 right, good, and worthy, as it should be, unless, 
 besides its being actually promotive even of the pro- 
 per happiness, the intention with which it is done 
 includes more or less such promotion. 
 
 Utilitarians again have some reason in saying 
 that their principle is tacitly assumed by their adver- 
 saries; that in reasoning, for instance, as to fairness 
 and duty, the principle that happiness, whether 
 general or particular, is the one good thing, the one 
 thing which action is meant for and aimed at, is 
 constantly in the minds of the arguers, and yet 
 constantly kept out of sight. This is true in a 
 measure ; true exactly as it is true (in* the way 
 which we have seen) that utilitarians, when they 
 say that the goodness of action consists in its ten- 
 dency to happiness, mean, without saying it till they 
 are obliged to do so, happiness rightly distributed, 
 or in other words, the happiness which the agent 
 ought to act for; and assume thus the principle of 
 their adversaries, some in a greater and some in a 
 less degree, just as their adversaries assume theirs. 
 The reader will remember how in Mr Mill's papers, 
 after right action has been defined as action conducive 
 
 11 
 
1 62 THE MORAL SENTIMENT IN ITS RELATION 
 
 to happiness, it comes out by degrees, when it cannot 
 be helped, that the happiness meant must have been 
 that which the supposed proof will not apply to, — 
 happiness morally determined, or into which there 
 enter, for the determination of it, considerations ex- 
 traneous to happiness, namely, virtue and duty\ The 
 worst is that the principle thus taught disguisedly 
 on either side is likely to be taught wrongly. It is 
 dragged in unwillingly in such a manner as least to 
 come in the way of another principle supposed more 
 important. This is one of the misfortunes which 
 my essay is designed to meet. 
 Such an Of thoso idcas then, virtue, duty, usefulness or 
 
 system^ conduciveuess to happiness, I do not see the least 
 kadk)°* how one can be resolved into another. They are 
 wrong various qualities of those actions which, speaking^ 
 
 results m t -, -,-, i • i n i ii 
 
 practice, looscly, WO Call good, right, morally valuable: we 
 thrtTr^ee have HO rcasou, that I can see, to say that their 
 coiSSls goodness and rightness consists in one of these more 
 to the line than in another: if we wish to test their s^oodness 
 
 of action . PIT* 
 
 they point or rightucss, WO cauuot take one oi these qualities 
 theory itTs to tho cxclusion of the others, but must take them, 
 ^lificfation ^^cordiug to circumstauces, in conjunction. We may 
 know to a certain degree that they must point to 
 one line of action in general, because human nature 
 is one, and is reasonable, and reason is a common 
 understanding among the individuals of the human 
 race. The belief which we all must more or less 
 entertain, that they are really and entirely, upon the 
 whole, consistent, that they coincide as to the line of 
 action which they point out, is in fact the belief that 
 the moral universe is one, and good, and the work of 
 reason and design; a belief which, when we dwell upon 
 it, carries us, not very distinctly, but very deeply and 
 
 ^ See above, p. 86. 
 
TO HAPPINESS, VIRTUE AND DUTY. 1 63 
 
 powerfully, towards ideas of religion. And in the mean 
 time the various play or conflict of these ideas with 
 each other, as exhibited within us and before us in the 
 moral world and in human action, is what makes them 
 of such unceasing interest to us : it serves no practical 
 purpose, while it destroys a vast amount of moral and 
 intellectual interest, to try to introduce false and 
 narrow-minded simplifications. The attempt to grasp 
 human action in one summary view is like trying to 
 grasp water or to grasp Proteus — we only change the 
 place and form of the difficulty. If we think it worth 
 while to say, goodness of action consists in its con- 
 duciveness to happiness, we really do but change the 
 difficulty to another as great, the investigation of the 
 nature of that true happiness to which goodness of 
 action must be conducive, instead of investigating 
 goodness of action itself. The utilitarian notion that 
 this happiness is simply pleasure, systematized as 
 Bentham or others might systematize it, is what I 
 have called an utterly false simplification. 
 
 The moral question presents itself variously to As a mat- 
 men in one or other of these forms, and I do notthemomi 
 see on what principle we can say that it does so better "^"^If^^^^ 
 in one than in another. Our tendency may be to feel itself vari- 
 our action more or less free, more or less directed to men in one 
 a definite end. Where there is much initiative, much these thvl^ 
 of energy and impulsiveness, the question is hkely ^^^j^j^^^^*^ 
 to suggest itself rather as that of virtue. How may their differ- 
 I live most worthily ? Where there is more of ters. 
 thoughtfulness and anxiety, fear of wrong as much 
 as, or more than, impulse to right, there rises the 
 question of dutyy What ought I to do ? And where 
 there is more of a practical tendency, where there is 
 a strong perception -of sympathy with the want and 
 suffering which there is about us, the question will 
 rather be. How may I be most useful? what purpose, 
 
 11—2 
 
164 THE MORAL SENTIMENT IN ITS RELATION 
 
 of the many that are needed, shall I direct my action 
 towards, and how may I best effect it? 
 
 It is no part of the business of moral philosophy 
 to keep the thoughts as to the answer of these ques- 
 tions altogether in the same channel in which the 
 questions arose. To determine what we ought to 
 do w^e must consider all of them, and any exclusive 
 consideration of one alone would be exceedingly false 
 and misleading. 
 Each of The moral sentiment or emotion, so to call it in 
 
 ideatYs^^ general language, appears in different forms according 
 attended to tho form takou by the moral question, or in other 
 
 by a moral i«i n i* -i • 1 
 
 sentiment, words, accordmg to the idea of moral action which 
 timenHr niost prosouts itsclf to the mind. It is the emotion 
 nitfand" counocted with the idea of duty which we are most 
 imperative frequently in the habit of callinof by the name 'moral 
 
 in the case ■•. "^ ir»i) . ^^ -i 
 
 of duty, sentiment, 'moral faculty, or 'conscience.' Our sight 
 of injury done by one to another excites in us not 
 only disapprobation of the doer, but also moral in- 
 dignation, with desire to set the wrong right. The 
 complicated feeling which we call conscience has for 
 its most important element the reflection of this feel- 
 ing in upon ourselves, and the judging ourselves in 
 accordance with it. But, as an emotion, conscience 
 is kindred to the emotions which accompany the idea 
 of virtue, generosity, or magnanimity on the one 
 side, and to those which accompany the idea of bene- 
 volence or philanthropy on the other. The pain which 
 accompanies the consciousness on our part of past 
 unworthy action or past unkindness is the same in 
 kind (though in some respects less definite), as that 
 which accompanies the consciousness of past failure 
 in duty, the idea of which pain it is that leads to the 
 moral idea of conscience. The difference in definite- 
 ness of this latter pain or feeling as compared with 
 the others arises from the fact that what it sug- 
 
TO HAPPINESS, VIRTUE AND DUTY. 1 65 
 
 gests to US is breach of law: it sets us before 
 ourselves as guilty or offenders. While the voice 
 equally of all the three forms of emotion is, I wish 
 I had not done the thing, the voice of this in especial 
 is besides, I ought not to have done it : and conse- 
 quently, since conscience thus puts us in the position 
 of offenders aofainst the law, here there does come in 
 that idea, which as I have said\ is not the essence of 
 law, but is a part of the notion of it, the idea, namely, 
 of sanction and punishment. The vague fear of pun- 
 ishment which is involved in the notion of conscience 
 arises just from the fact that sanction or the denun- 
 ciation of penalty is understood (not as making the 
 essence of the law, but yet) as being a probable, almost 
 necessary, accompaniment of the law : hence though 
 there be no knowledge of any saaction or penalty, 
 yet when it is felt that the law in its reality has been 
 disobeyed, it is felt also that a penalty has been in- 
 curred, and enforcement of the penalty is dreaded. 
 Thus arises that sort of solemnity or majesty (the 
 'mystical character' in Mr Mill's language)' which 
 attaches to the idea of duty. It appears as a kind of 
 moral necessity, with the same sort of awe belonging 
 to it : Wordsworth's Ode to Duty is in the same tone 
 as Horace's to Necessity. It is in this way that the 
 moral action of conscience is one of the most powerful 
 suggesters possible of religion, and of a divine govern- 
 ment of the world. 
 
 The feeling of duty is constantly allied, in a manner Remark- 
 strangely antagonistic and paradoxical but most inti- fng^oUhe 
 mate, with the feelings of virtue and generosity. The ^entimenta 
 feeling of duty itself is, as I have said, one of restraint and duty 
 and submission; there is no reason for it except on cases. ^^^ 
 the supposition of a possible tendency to transgress; 
 prevention is a more intimate formal element of it 
 
 ^ See above, p. 152. 2 jjni p. 41. 
 
1 66 THE MORAL SENTIMENT IN ITS RELATION 
 
 than stimulus; wrong is the positive side in respect 
 of it, right the secondary and negative. Just as pain 
 is the more positive element of sensation, and a large 
 part of pleasure consists in freedom from it; so wrong 
 is the more immediate manner in which the action of 
 man is likely to affect man, and a large part of duty 
 is neminem Icedere, to do no one any injury. Duty 
 therefore in the idea of it is not expansive ; it is rather 
 strict and hard: yet in the worthier temperaments 
 of mind the feeling of duty has a constant tendency 
 to blend itself with that feeling of enterprizing free- 
 dom, almost self-willedness, which I have described 
 as belonging to virtue '. From this blending it catches 
 a life and a flame which carries it far beyond rule 
 and may e^en give to it an enthusiastic character; as 
 we see in the old chivalric idea of devoir, the very 
 essence of which was the most complete spontaneous- 
 ness and putting forth of individual force and will, 
 joined at the same time with the feeling of the abso- 
 Jute impossibility of acting in any other way. The 
 idea is of that which is expected of us, that which we 
 are trusted to do (the trust reposing simply on an 
 assumed estimate of our character), and, on the other 
 side, of the wish to justify such expectation and trust. 
 'England expects every man to do his duty' is what 
 we may call a noble truism. The idea of duty in 
 those to whom this was addressed was — what England 
 expected of them, and that was complete self-devotion 
 of each in his particular assigned place and office. Our 
 endeavour'' is our utmost effort. 
 Not con- The fear, vague or distinct, of punishment 
 
 oniy^but outors as I havo said into the idea of conscience of 
 
 ^ See above, p. in. 
 
 ^ That such was the original force of the word * endeavour ' {devoir) 
 appears by the quotation from Cotgrave given in Richardson's Dictionary, 
 ' endeavour = Fr. s'efforcer, to strive with might and main, to use his 
 utmost strength, apply all his vigour, use his whole power.* Ed. 
 
VIRTUE AND DUTY. 167 
 
 wrong: but the moral feeling is worthier and nobler shame, sor- 
 the less there is of this fear, and the more the pain inflict- 
 wrong is felt in its own self and in its nature. In sympathy? 
 this latter case, the distinction between the pain of &«'•' "^'-ve 
 
 ' . ,. . i«i*° guide 
 
 conscience and those pams akm to conscience, which our moral 
 attend the consciousness of conduct base or unkind, fau whhSi 
 is very irregular and doubtful. The sentiment of*^^^P''°* 
 shame is different from that of Sfuilt, but still is con- mo^aj phi- 
 
 . . T , . . • M losopny. 
 
 stantly found in connexion with it : in a similar 
 manner the sentiment of sorrow for pain caused or 
 not relieved is different from that of guilt, but again 
 is constantly joined with it. And the business of 
 moral philosophy is not with the purely moral senti- 
 ment or conscience alone, but with the whole mass 
 of feeling of this kind. The feeling, for instance, 
 which we commonly call honour, is one of the most 
 powerful influencers of human nature ; it is what the 
 morality of many of the best specimens of our nature 
 will always depend on, and for many purposes it 
 gives as good a foundation for morality as anything 
 which we could call more definitely 'conscience' will 
 furnish to us. And so with sympathy and kindness. Reason 
 All these feelings, beginning more or less as feelings stmct ^^' 
 of pain, pass into feelings of sensibility or discrimina- ^^^'^0"*^ 
 tion : and thus they come to erive us knowledere very attempt to 
 
 sunersecie 
 
 much in the way in which our real senses do, them, 
 discriminating with an instantaneousness and a 
 nicety^ which definite reason will try in vain to 
 equal. It is true that these sensibilities are very far 
 from being infallible guides : their suggestions, though 
 pretty sure to be in the main right, are very likely 
 to be in many details wrong ; reason must halt after 
 
 1 I have ventured to substitute the italicized words for the words 
 used in the MS., certainty and accuracy, as the latter taken in their 
 common sense would hardly seem consistent with the sentence which 
 follows, where the moral sensibilities are spoken of as being ' far from 
 infallible guides.' Ed. 
 
1 68 THE MORAL SENTIMENT IN ITS RELATION 
 
 them in the best way it can to correct and examine 
 them. Still the mass of moral action is not done 
 directly as a result of reason, but through the inter- 
 vention of these, reason acting to inform and regulate 
 them. 
 
 In order that these sensibilities may act as they 
 should, there must be right ideas in the intellect of 
 what is noble or excellent, of the details of moral 
 duty, and also of the real conditions of man's happi- 
 ness. We have here given to us, in the great heads, 
 the work of moral philosophy. Utilitarians would 
 tell us it is the last only we want to know, and that 
 that will give the rest. But in reality we cannot 
 know any one of them properly without taking into 
 account the others. 
 Mr Mill's The very interesting description of conscience 
 conscience which Mr Mill gives in p. 41, where he calls it *a 
 pain attendant on violation of duty' and describes its 
 binding force as consisting in *the existence of a 
 mass of feeling opposing itself to the action,' seems 
 to me, if anything is, intuitivist. Action is certainly 
 not due in that case to the consideration of general 
 happiness alone. It may be said however (and in 
 some passages Mr Mill seems to take this view), 
 that conscience is the result of education, which, 
 by association and other means, works and trans- 
 forms the external sanctions into an inward habit, 
 and that the internal sanction is thus purely second- 
 ary and artificial. Let us consider how this is. 
 Examina- The sayiug that the feeling of guiltiness, or 
 Bupposi- ^ vague dread of punishment for moral offence, is 
 tion that ^ result of the moral discipline to which all are 
 
 conscience , , J- . 
 
 is a result morc or Icss subjoctod in education, does not seem to 
 
 tion : me of importance, for this reason : because whatever 
 
 is a regular, and (in a manner) uniform, result of that 
 
 education which is necessary to make man man, to 
 
 18 intuiti- 
 vist. 
 
169 
 
 civilize him and to bring out what of mind and 
 feeUng there is in him, is, according to the view 
 which I take of his nature, a part of his nature. Of 
 course besides this there may be certain specialties, 
 certain feelings for instance superinduced upon him 
 by education, which are no part of his nature, and 
 which may be wrong : it is not always easy to 
 distinguish between these two products of education ; 
 but still I suppose it may be done. The saying that 
 conscience or the moral sentiment in man is a result 
 of education, seems to me like saying that flying in 
 birds is a result of education, because it does not 
 appear to be done all at once, but there is a process 
 of learning on the part of the young, and as it would 
 appear, of instruction and aid on the part of the 
 older ones. We may divide educability, if anyone 
 cares to do so, into natural and unnatural ; under- 
 standing the latter in reference to special kinds of 
 training, such as are often practised by man on 
 certain animals, as the teaching of birds to speak, of 
 bears to dance, of dogs to perform various tricks, &c. 
 which are plainly not developments of their proper 
 nature : if then we understand the moral educability 
 of man to be not of this latter, but of the former 
 nature, (and I should think none could have any 
 doubt on this point) it is the same to me whether 
 we say that man has a moral nature or a morally 
 educable one. 
 
 In the same way that some have considered that or that it 
 all moral sentiments are simply the results of educa- o^f tie opi- 
 tion, so it has been often considered that conscience, ^^Jers^ 
 honour, shame, and various similar feelings, are in This is 
 reality only fear of others and of their opinion, and so far as all 
 are not feelings really genuine, and arising in our- and ^''^'"^ 
 selves. The truth about this is that all our feelings, ^^rsScili 
 and our reason and thoue^ht also in an eminent just as we 
 
170 THE MORAL SENTIMENT IN ITS RELATION, &C. 
 
 think of degree, are social ; that is, there enters into them 
 a'^beiLT ° the imagination, more with one, less with another, 
 ionas\^o of the sympathy of others with them. Man is social 
 ^1^- in mind, as well as in condition : sociality is involved 
 
 in the very idea of intelligence, so far as we can form 
 that idea: the supposition of the individual mind 
 developing itself by its own observation and thought 
 alone, which metaphysicians constantly make, is sup- 
 position only. Even knowledge itself is sympathy 
 with the thought of others ; it being essential to our 
 notion of truth that, in the action of our reason in 
 respect of it, we are thinking what others think and 
 must think along with us. There is just as much 
 reason then, and no more, to say that the intellectual 
 supposition of anything being true is, not a conviction 
 of our own minds, but simply a falling in with the 
 common opinion, a coming to think as others do ; as to 
 say that, since in making the supposition of anything 
 as worthy or right and what ought to be done we 
 have undoubtedly a thought or imagination of the 
 judgment of others, therefore this moral supposition 
 is the giving up what is really our individual senti- 
 ment to fear of the judgment of others. Conscience 
 or shame is not a simple imagination of the judgment 
 of others condemning us, but it is a self-condemnation, 
 involving with it, as I have said all our thoughts 
 about anything as true do, an imagination of the 
 judgment of others (if they knew what we know) 
 condemning us also. Our judgments are formed 
 indeed very much according to our education and the 
 society in w^hich we live: but the judgments thus 
 formed are our own ; the moral influence which 
 governs our action is from within, imaginatively as- 
 sociating itself with the judgment of others about us; 
 it does not simply consist in being influenced by 
 others, by opinion or by reputation. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE IDEAL ELEMENT IN MORALITY IN ITS RELATION TO 
 THE POSITIVE AND OBSERVATIONAL. 
 
 It is the characteristic of human morality that Positive 
 in the nature of it there are two elements mixed : elements 
 the positive or given, and the ideal : the simply j^o^auty? 
 natural founded on impulse alone, and the rationally 
 natural founded on principle and imagination. We 
 speak of what we should do in contradistinction to 
 various things which otherwise we must be sup- 
 posed inclined to do. Thus at the basis of all our 
 moral action, whether in respect to the action of 
 individuals, or in respect to that legislation and 
 establishing of customs which we might call the 
 collective action of mankind, must lie the feeling 
 that there is something to be striven after and 
 something to be striven against; in other words, 
 that the right action of man is a kind of action 
 which will be the result of principle and effort, not 
 that which first and directly presents itself and is 
 most immediately what we may call natural. 
 
 In using here the word ' ideal ' I have no wish The suppo- 
 to prejudge what may be found to be the kind ofiJearises" 
 conduct to which the expressions belonging to ^^is ^^*^^^ *^._ 
 ideal, such as rightness, valuableness, fitness, good- losophy. 
 ness, &c. actually apply. But an ideal in some 
 form there must be, if we are to have moral 
 philosophy at all. Men act in all sorts of ways 
 
172 THE IDEAL AND THE POSITIVE IN MORALITY. 
 
 as a matter of fact, each acting from an individual 
 will of his ov/n. Moral philosophy goes on the sup- 
 position that there is for them a way of acting (one 
 way, we will suppose) which is better than others; 
 and this not prudentially better only, as we might 
 suppose in regard of any set of animals, and as in 
 fact the individuals of each set of animals to a cer- 
 tain limited extent suppose for themselves. Man 
 in virtue of his free-will, reason, and imagination, 
 forms an ideal of his action : what moral philosophy 
 seeks to find and to recommend, as the guide of 
 individual action, is the best ideal for the action of 
 the human race. 
 Thees- Whatever particular form the moral ideal may 
 
 the moral take, the essence of it must still be the same, namely, 
 rtcoJriition ^^^ feeling that right action for man is not simple, 
 ofthedou- but that for individual improvement and elevation 
 
 Die nature in 
 
 of man and there must be self-conquest, and for general im- 
 cessity'cJ provcmcut and progress self-devotion of individuals ; 
 quesr^ in other words, that there is a natural or physical 
 course of action which moral action is to rise above ; 
 that thus no moral theory which treats of human 
 nature as simple, which does not notice this conflict 
 of two elements in it, can be complete. 
 Where this It may be that moral science has no power to 
 ness is not couvoy to tliosc who rcfuse to admit it this notion 
 In ideaf^' <^f tho doublcncss or multipHcity of man's nature, 
 maybe^ the iiotiou, that is, of there being present to him 
 physical the idea of something which he would be and do, 
 mentTn." bcsidos the cousciousnoss of what he actually is. 
 momUm- -^^ ^^® absence of this notion, a sort of ideal may 
 provement be formod of a better physical condition : advance 
 diary. towards this may be looked upon as improvement : 
 increase of dispositions which are likely to produce 
 such improvement may be looked upon as improve- 
 ment also, in virtue of their tendency to lead to 
 
THE IDEAL AND THE POSITIVE IN MORALITY. 1 73 
 
 the other. It seems to me that this notion, which 
 is to a certain extent that of utiUtarianism, refutes 
 itself in the supposition. Man cannot attain to any 
 important improvement in his physical condition, 
 without the development in him of a mass of social 
 dispositions which amount to an important moral 
 improvement likewise. What takes place thus in 
 regard of him is that he becomes a higher animal, 
 a being of more worth, a better creature. And why 
 in this case the moral change should be considered 
 improvement only because it helps (or tends to help) 
 the improvement in condition, I do not see. The But such 
 moral change is itself an improvement, as much^^^j^^. 
 as the physical chanofe. If it is admitted that it is in provement 
 
 ^ \ ^ ^ . , IS self-con- 
 
 itself an improvement, but only because it is itself tradictory. 
 happiness and carries along with it a happiness of 
 its own, over and above that which it produces as 
 its result ; this is to sacrifice altogether the notion 
 of happiness being in such a manner definable as 
 that improvement may be known by its tendency 
 to produce happiness. If we are to apply to any 
 purpose the principle, that moral improvement is 
 the increase of the dispositions which tend to hap- 
 piness, we must keep the notion of happiness clear 
 in the first instance from that of moral improve- 
 ment, which is to be determined by it. If moral 
 improvelnent is itself happiness, the idea of happi- 
 ness is extended in such a manner as to be no 
 longer of any value for the application of the utili- 
 tarian principle. 
 
 Aefainst non-idealism then or true positivism, ^j^^a- 
 
 . T . . I'll! rianism 
 
 which does nothing to determme action, which looks idealizes 
 upon man as a part oi existing nature, and upon agamst 
 any change which there has been or may be in ^'Jf'^'J',)^^' 
 him as a part of that course, development, or j^^^o^^^'^y 
 progress, which may, for all that we know, be going further? 
 
174 THE IDEAL AND THE POSITIVE IN MORALITY. 
 
 on in organized nature altogether — against this, utili- 
 tarianism, refusing to admit any upward tendency 
 or moral ideal, any aspiringness in human nature, 
 would, where it has anything of enthusiasm and 
 life in it, endeavour to idealize human happiness. 
 The question has to be asked of it,' Why does it 
 go so far, or why, going so far, does it not go 
 further? "Why is it not satisfied with man as he 
 is, or why, if dissatisfied, does it not find more to 
 be dissatisfied with than his want of happiness ? 
 It is not in If WO look at man as he is, we need not be 
 happSs^ altogether dissatisfied about him : if we look at his 
 chiefly^^ past history we may feel an interest in other points 
 that we besides his change or progress: he has been at all 
 dissatisfied timos 'a uoblo animal,' and different contingencies 
 Ts h'eTs!'' ^f ^is history have brought out, to an endless extent, 
 one and anotli-er point of interest about him. He has 
 his place in the creation with other sentient beings, 
 of suffering and enjoyment, labour and ease, mixed 
 together : his life is at least not harder than that of 
 other animals, in respect of which impartial nature, 
 in proportion to the facility of procuring food, has 
 generally provided abundance of enemies, and in pro- 
 portion to the freedom from attack by others, has 
 made difficulty of self-sustenance: even the difiSculties 
 of his life make a part of his life, and add to its 
 interest. So much is this fche case, that it is exceed- 
 ingly doubtful how far man in general, if the choice 
 were offered him, would give up the changes and 
 chances of life as it is, with the hopes and fears at- 
 tending them, for any more methodical and quiet 
 scheme of happiness, such as Mr Mill to a certain 
 extent gives in these papers. We need not then be 
 altogether dissatisfied with human life as it is. 
 The ideal- Still, that man is and has always been dissatisfied, 
 dency ?n IS a fact, and one most honourable to his nature : with 
 
THE IDEAL AND THE POSITIVE IN MORALITY. 1 75 
 
 the free view which reason gives him he not only man acta 
 sees what he is, but thinks what he might be. But, ways^be- 
 naturally and reasonably, if he is thus disposed to f^^^^ ^^^^^ 
 idealize, it is not with respect to his happiness only, Weaofhap. 
 but to his whole nature. That upon the whole he ^^^^^* 
 has as much happiness as he deserves, he is pretty 
 well aware, feeling as he does how very much more 
 of happiness at each moment lies in his power than 
 he actually appropriates. Life indeed, in the point 
 of view of happiness, must always offer to him a 
 scene of terrible perplexity, for the fearful vicissitudes 
 and possible calamities of it are of course to the highly 
 developed sensitiveness and full consciousness of man 
 something which has no parallel with inferior animal 
 natures. But the feeling which leads to that aspi- 
 ration and worthy idealism which has always existed 
 in man, is not merely a discontent, so to call it, of 
 human nature with its present amount of happiness : 
 it is the thought of man being to a considerable 
 extent the master and guardian of his own nature 
 and destinies, and the imaginative anxiety, with much 
 of fear in it but much more of hopefulness, which such 
 a thought will bring with it. The real way in which 
 man may be happier is by that general elevation 
 and improvement of his nature, which will both 
 render him capable of more happiness, and will carry 
 with it more happiness, than his nature now admits 
 of: and this sort of change is the ideal which, so 
 far as he is disposed to idealize, man naturally sets 
 before himself. 
 
 Utilitarianism, in so far as it represents the old The new 
 Epicureanism or attachment to happiness as enjoy- ism does 
 ment, has little of an ideal character: but besides this ^j^fig^^^ 
 it more or less represents the notion of action beiner further, 
 aimed at an end or supreme good, and also in its best consistent 
 forms may incorporate the notion that the happiness ^^ omgso. 
 
176 THE IDEAL AND THE POSITIVE IN MORALITY. 
 
 of others, or of man in general, is to be sought rather 
 than our own. As representing or incorporating 
 these notions, utihtarianism might be ideal to any 
 degree: the idea of the supreme good might be a 
 most lofty and exalted one, and so might the idea of 
 the sacrifice of ourselves for others. Utilitarianism 
 however, while taking its idealism from these sources, 
 does not follow it out to the extent demanded by the 
 spirit which it thus appropriates. The saying that 
 by the supreme good is intended happiness, and by 
 happiness pleasure, and the saying again that self- 
 devotion or unselfishness is to be an equal distri- 
 bution of our action for happiness amongst all 
 possible recipients, ourselves included, give us an 
 ideal which is not worth having, and which would 
 not have been thought of, if the utilitarian teachers 
 had not been better than their philosophical prin- 
 ciples. The man in whose mind t?ie sentiment was 
 real and fundamental, that happiness in the sense 
 of pleasure was the one thing desirable in life, 
 would be very little led to thoughts of the im- 
 provement of the condition of human nature, and 
 to dreams of a happier state of man which, by wise 
 conduct, might be brought about. 'Carpe diem' 
 is far more genuine Epicurean morality than any 
 such thought of future increase of happiness for man 
 as would lead to toil and effort in the present. In 
 reality, there is doubtless in many calling themselves 
 utilitarians the strongest possible feeling of the ob- 
 ligation upon them to do what they can to improve 
 the condition of man, and not only a willingness but 
 an earnest desire to sacrifice to this task anything 
 which otherwise they might care for. But why, with 
 their own nature thus in all its parts exalted, as such 
 forge tfulness of self and of mere enjoyment must 
 exalt it, will they refuse to recognize as of value in 
 
THE IDEAL AND THE POSITIVE IN MORALITY. 1 77 
 
 the case of others what is of so much value in their 
 own case, and why will they idealize nothing as to 
 man but his enjoyment? Why will they not look 
 forward to man being hetter as well as happier, and 
 consider the former an improvement, not only as 
 contributing to the latter, but also as being equally 
 and independently desirable for its own sake ? 
 
 My complaint against utilitarianism has been, it Duty, vir- 
 will be remembered, all along, that, being partial, it happiness 
 claims to be all that is needed for morals. Other- ''^''^'^^f 
 
 pendent 
 
 wise the moral ideal is likely to suggest itself differ- forms of 
 ently to different people, and I scarcely know any ideal, 
 principle upon which we can determine any one form 
 of it to be more absolutely true than another, each 
 being wrong if it claims to be all. We must not 
 idealize moral action exclusively under the notion of 
 duty, as if it were necessary to the Tightness of it 
 that it should be done as underpressure, with the ever 
 present consciousness of law, and with the view 
 (religiously, but not morally, proper for all action) 
 that there can be nothing in it of free self-origination 
 and consequently of deserving. But yet duty is the 
 form in which moral action will idealize itself in many 
 minds, where there is more inward call for regulation, 
 and less disposition to initiative: and I do not know 
 on what principle we can say that this is a better, or a 
 w^orse, form of the moral ideal than that of free virtue 
 and self devotion. Only there must be more or less 
 of both forms : and of the remarkable manner in which 
 they may practically unite, I have before spoken'. 
 And so happiness nobly and worthily conceived, 
 not as mere enjoyment, but as one view or side of a 
 state of being in harmony with itself, fulfilling its 
 purposes, using powers to ends worthy of them, 
 desiring, and more or less attaining, and resting in,. 
 
 ^ See above, p. 165. 
 
 12 
 
178 THE IDEAL AND THE POSITIVE IN MORALITY. 
 
 the really desirable, — happiness looked upon as what 
 human nature may be more or less brought towards, 
 is a most noble ideal, and one most eminently con- 
 ducive to moral action : but even thus, it must not 
 condemn the other ideals. 
 The moral The moral ideal, whatever its form, is suggested to 
 be filled up man partly by fact, and partly by something which 
 rie^e^^'but ^^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ conclusiou from fact. There is given 
 it is not de- to man, as I have so often said, man individual and 
 it. man collective, a double nature, a something which 
 
 he is, and a something which he would be. The 
 former of these as life goes on, life individual or life 
 of mankind, becomes more intellectually clear to the 
 view : and as it does this, it may serve very greatly 
 to realise and animate the latter : but for the latter to 
 be capable of this, it must have had its own native 
 and independent origin. This latter nature or manner 
 of life, the nature wished for and approved, may 
 be very barren of content^ as logicians would say, 
 independently of the experience of the former, the 
 actual nature, which time brings with it: but the 
 notion of it is a mental fact nevertheless, and the 
 one great fact which it behoves ethical science to 
 take notice of 
 iiiustra- To illustrate the manner in which the one nature, 
 
 thTsuc^s- so to call it, is filled up from the other, we may take 
 siveexpan- jyjj, jyj^Jipg utilitarianism and observe in this the sue- 
 
 sions or LiiG 
 
 utilitarian ccssivo forms or expansions of the moral ideal of our 
 action. The first step is the supposing an ideal at 
 all, and this at on^e removes ethics from the category 
 of the simply positive or inductive sciences, to which 
 no such supposition belongs. The next is the giving 
 for content, or filling up, to this ideal the imagination 
 of a happiness beyond our own, the happiness of 
 others or the general happiness. Then, when we 
 imagine the world of moral beings with th^ir various 
 
THE IDEAL AND THE POSITIVE IN MORALITY. 1 79 
 
 claims and their various feelings, we come to idealize 
 both the happiness and the generality of it : we 
 imagine not only a desirable manner of life, which 
 we may call happiness, but a desirable kind of happi- 
 ness, however we may name it; and also a desirable 
 distribution of the happiness, or relation of the hap- 
 piness of one individual to another. 
 
 Observation and induction are possible and neces- Though 
 sary as to every step of this progress or develop- g^iencef 
 ment, but they are not possible to such an extent as 1'^^''^^^^^''*'^ 
 to make the science of ethics a positive one, in the become 
 manner in which, for example, astronomy is. It is the Vict' or 
 true that almost all science had in its aria^in a more ^1^,?!,T^ 
 
 CD ciSSUIIip* 
 
 or less ideal character, which we have now, as re-*'?"<^ff''ee- 
 
 n • • /» • • will ex- 
 
 gards the mass of science, given up for a positive eludes 
 one : but the very notion of ethical science precludes from moral 
 such a treatment there. What I mean is this : Plato ^<^^*^'^°^- 
 and others like him formed vast ideas of what the 
 heavens ought to be, what was beautiful for them 
 and what worthy of the Creator, and had a very 
 strong disposition to consider that the facts must 
 accord with these ideas of theirs. Notions of this 
 kind we have now given up, though in sciences 
 which deal with organization .it is possible that 
 something of the kind, in the form of imagination 
 of purpose, may still be scientifically fruitful. But 
 in any case the science of the direction of our own 
 action, of which we feel ourselves masters, is not 
 a positive one, (that is, a science simply of the dis- 
 covery of matter of fact,) except so far as our feelings 
 of self-direction and self-mastership are delusions; 
 that is, it is not a positive science as ethics. It is ,9, 
 science about something supposed absent and futuj-e, 
 not something present or past. What I mean by 
 ethics or moral science (whether we call it a science 
 or not) is that kirid of thought which there must 
 
 12—2 
 
l80 THE IDEAL AND THE POSITIVE IN MORALITY. 
 
 always be in relation to our action as supposed free 
 and the result of conscious self-direction ; for in this 
 manner man, whatever he may come to know, must 
 of necessity act. Nor can the place of ethics, in this 
 sense, be taken by any positive science of mental 
 physiology, which may trace the nervous connexion 
 of sensations and following actions, and so give to 
 our actions the apparent character of physical neces- 
 sity. This kind of necessity, like every kind of it sup- 
 posed in reference to our action, must always remain 
 extraneous to practice, and the science of the direc- 
 tion of our action must exist unaffected by it. Our 
 free will is at least an assumption which we must 
 always make, as we do that of the reaUty of our 
 beins: and of the external world about us. 
 Yet obser- But whilo othics caniiot be in the first instance a 
 needed for scionco of obscrvatiou, because all that observation 
 Tthe dr ^^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ show us how it is 2^'i^udent to act, while 
 veiopment it cau ucvcr suggost to US anything as what we 
 ideal! should do, what we ouglit to do, what is fit or proper 
 to do, what is improvement of ourselves or others; 
 all which notions belong to an ideal region, or go 
 beyond what is present ; — yet there is abundant scope 
 and necessity for observation in reference to every 
 step of the development of the moral ideal given 
 above. The supposing an ideal at all is in fact little 
 more than the full consciousness of ourselves as ac- 
 tive beings or beings with powers : and it is matter 
 of most important observation what those powers 
 are. Accordingly, what may be wanting in a man 
 may be any consciousness at all of this kind ; that is, 
 he may never have waked at all to the consciousness 
 of himself as a moral being, with much of power 
 for good and evil, and correspondent responsi- 
 bility: here is the ideal element wanting. On the 
 other hand it may be observation which is wanting; 
 
THE IDEAL AND THE POSITIVE IN MORALITY. l8l 
 
 a man may be full of mistake about himself, may 
 think he can do what he cannot, and think he likes 
 what he finds he does not like. And what is true 
 of an individual holds also in regard of larger portions 
 of the human race. So again for the second step, 
 that of the thought or idea of the happiness, there 
 needs much observation as to what this happiness 
 is : so for justice : and also in estimating the different 
 characters or qualities of happiness, in ^ subsidiary 
 degree observation may do very much. 
 
 It will be said, If observation cannot give us the 
 ideal, why should we consider that it can aid it ? 
 how can we fit the imagining what should be, and 
 the observing what is, together ? 
 
 The fitting them together must always be imper- Assubsidi- 
 fect, and it is for this reason that I would wish to fore to^"^^ 
 mark clearly the distinction between the main science ^l^e'^Jeand 
 (or manner of thous^ht) of ethics and the subordi- ^^^ ^^^ai, 
 
 ,.,.,. ,. ,. i«i^® want 
 
 nate sciences which aid it and in applying which positive 
 lies its chief concern. These sciences offer abun-AeSels^ 
 daDt room for observation, but only within a limited ^"^!^^^ ^^^ 
 range : in going beyond this range they become nomena. 
 complicated and lose their simplicity. One such 
 science we may call hedonics, or the science of human 
 pleasure. No one can doubt the importance and 
 the value of observation as to this, observation both 
 of our own feelings and of those of others. And 
 we may doubtless, to a certain extent, proceed in a 
 methodical manner with such observations, and 
 general principles or laws about human pleasure 
 may in this manner be arrived at. But while 
 this may be called, as it seems to me, one of the 
 sub-sciences of ethics, the proper business of ethics 
 is to determine in respect to our action how we 
 are to use the knowledge which we thus possess 
 about pleasure. For such a science of 'hedonics* 
 
l82 THE IDEAL AND THE POSITIVE IN MORALITY. 
 
 can tell us nothing as to whether it is our own 
 pleasure we should consult, or that of others ; and 
 whether that of each other alike, or with various 
 respects and considerations : and other points of this 
 kind. Such ' hedonic' knowledge would be valuable 
 even in a system of ethics which, on ascetic princi- 
 ples, considered that pleasure was in no respect a 
 thing to be indulged in, but was to be restrained 
 and disciplined. 
 
 In the same manner as to 'hedonics,' great 
 ethical interest must attach to a historical science 
 of social organization, or to methodized observation 
 of the manner in which man does arrange himself as 
 to property and mutual rights and duties. In this 
 as in other respects, without our knowing what is, 
 our imagination of what ought to be must be mere 
 dreaming ; while yet the knowing what is does not 
 simply tell us what ought to be. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 MORAL IMPERATIVENESS AS BASED UPON PSYCHOLOGICAL 
 
 ANALYSIS, 
 
 It was stated in the last chapter that the notion The reia- 
 of contest, choice, and effort enters into our notion raiized to 
 of morality as human. How great is the eifort to }|"S°''** 
 be ? How different is moralized human nature to ^"f^^^ 
 
 nature. 
 
 be from human nature unmoralized and as it is a sub- 
 ject of simple observation? This is the fundamental 
 question of ethics, and it is because people have not 
 set this clearly before them, that there have been 
 strange confusions and unnatural sympathies between 
 quite distinct lines of ethical thought, as between 
 religious notions of the corruption of human nature, 
 and notions like those of Hobbes and La Rochefou- 
 cault about the depravity of man ; no attention being 
 given to the fact that the former assume that man 
 should and (under certain circumstances) may become 
 something quite different from this corrupted nature, 
 whereas the latter make no such supposition. 
 
 In reality this question is the same as the ques- Religion 
 tion how far we admit an ideal of our action and native 
 consider the practical power of human reason and sfartmg 
 will to extend. Ethics armed with divine authority, f^""? ^^® 
 
 »' ' ideal side, 
 
 as when incorporated in religion, may demand of our set the two 
 eflfort to be almost infinite, and may make the im- strong 
 proved human nature very different indeed from the "^PP^^^ition. 
 merely natural. Ethics again of a highly imaginative 
 
 \ 
 
184 MORAL IMPERATIVENESS AS BASED 
 
 character, as in Plato, may set before us, as what 
 human sociality should be, something entirely dif- 
 ferent from anything that the world has hitherto 
 had experience of. Ethics more practically, but not 
 so poetically, imaginative as this (witness the Stoic) 
 may denounce the simply natural as no human natu- 
 ralness, and may require that life, short of the full 
 attainment of the higher naturalness, should be a 
 scene of perpetual conscious effort and forcedness. 
 All these, and others like them, start from the ideal 
 side, and in some of them there is an evident ship- 
 The phiio- wreck against the positive and natural. Other ethi- 
 which start cal philosophcrs again try to start from this latter 
 pZTtile^ side, with no idea of effort or of a better and a 
 side find it ^yQPgg human nature. They assume perhaps some 
 
 hard to rise ^ ^ , ^ *' -L ^ 
 
 to the ideal undoubted positive principle of human nature, as 
 Epicurus that which is badly expressed as ^ the love 
 of pleasure, 'and think that this can be expanded into 
 an entire system of morality ; or like many modern 
 moralists they set their science before them as one 
 of simply psychological investigation. As there w^as 
 much of noble thought in the others, so there is sure 
 to be much of interesting and perhaps valuable 
 knowledge flowing from the researches of these : 
 but as there was a difficulty, in the former case, 
 how to make the ideal views and the positive facts 
 come together (and the most practical philosophies 
 of the ideal kind, like the Stoic, seemed to shew that 
 they were not brought together rightly), so in the 
 latter case, there is the difficulty to which I have 
 already referred, of making the step from the positive 
 to the ideal, from what is to what should be, from 
 the indicative to the imperative mood. 
 S'olo^^ai '^^^ development however of the ideal or impera- 
 itioraiists tive from the positive and indicative is evidently 
 
 have par- •ii«i n ^ ^ ' ^ • • 
 
 tiaiiysuc- more possible in the way 01 psychological investiga- 
 
UPON PSYCHOLOGICAL ANALYSIS. 1 85 
 
 tion than it is in the way of simple investigation ceeded in 
 of man's condition and circumstances ; and psy cholo- the icTeui" 
 gical moralists have attempted it in various manners. po^'sTtilt^ 
 Thus Bishop Butler finds in our nature something 5"*^ier in 
 
 -L . "bis account 
 
 evidently important, which yet is nothmg 11 not of the 
 authoritative and imperative, which can do nothing iweness of 
 but command; hence he concludes, on the principle 3 iir^^' 
 of nothino^ beins: made in vain, that it must be ric^ht omits the 
 
 ,. , , r» 1 1 considera- 
 
 m commanding, and that we are therefore bound to tion that 
 obey. In this respect he starts from what I have the^ faculty 
 called the positive side, and looks upon moralitj ?^^^J'll^ 
 rather as a product of human nature, than as some- i""po3ed 
 
 , . . , . . , . TT T * ""^^ witn- 
 
 thmg imposed or enjoined upon it. He discovers mout; 
 human nature itself, a true lord of its actions in this 
 conscience; finding here a real authority^ but one 
 subject to great doubtfulness as to its nature, — what 
 is the laio by which it is regulated or accompanied? 
 for some law it must have to distinguish it from 
 mere caprice. And this being so, it is with this 
 law that morality is more concerned than with 
 conscience, which is only the faculty of applying 
 the law: and for this law it is beyond human 
 nature itself that we must look. But Butler's view 
 in this respect is subject to another doubtfulness 
 besides: what is our notion, according to it, of the 
 difference between the moralized and unmoralized, 
 the better and the worse, human nature ? Butler's and that 
 view suggests that moral action consists essentially to mislead 
 in obedience to conscience; but, inasmuch as con-^j^Jf^y in- 
 science belongs to every state and stage of human str^^ted. 
 nature, quite as important a constituent of it is that 
 the conscience should be an improved and instructed 
 one. And if we suppose much such improvement 
 possible and desirable, the inference clearly is that 
 previously to this the conscience is very likely to tell 
 wrong, and can therefore only have a very qualified 
 
1 86 MORAL IMPERATIVENESS AS BASED 
 
 authority. I have mentioned that Bishop Butler's 
 view of the nature of the obedience due to con- 
 science^ is partly the Platonic notion, that in diso- 
 beying conscience (or reason) we fall into mental 
 anarchy, which from the nature of things must be 
 the worst of evils (a notion full of truth, but more 
 naturally perhaps suggesting itself to a Greek than to 
 us): and it is partly the notion that morality consists 
 in doing consciously and by choice that which the 
 different parts of a machine (as a watch) do uncon- 
 sciously, viz. in admitting regulation of ourselves 
 and each part of ourselves by that which has for its 
 intended business such regulation. Either of these 
 notions may fairly be conceived to meet the idea of 
 authority, though of course the former does so the 
 most, and though the notion of the moral authority 
 being thus within ourselves does not seem to me to 
 be the truest or the best. 
 other psy- All psychologists do not, like Butler, find in 
 
 choloffical ' ^ r ^L D • i 
 
 moralists ^lan a special faculty or conscience or moral reason; 
 makerm- j^^j. ^ q£ courso find TeasoYi, and some consider, 
 
 son, not ^ ^ ' ^ ' 
 
 conscience, that thoro is an imperativeness or authority about 
 
 the source , . « • p ■ 
 
 of moral such suggestious 01 roasou, m reierence to our ac- 
 tWeness. ^^^^y ^s are evidently unquestionable and indubit- 
 able. In reality however in all this, whether we 
 speak psychologically, as of the suggestions of our 
 reason, or whether, what comes to the same thing, 
 we speak objectively, as of moral truth, and of its 
 analogy to mathematical, we are still met by the 
 great difficulty as to the deduction of the ideal from 
 the positive. In relation to morality, there is fact 
 according to which we are to act, and fact accord- 
 ing to which we are not to act : the notion of m- 
 provement is manifestly of a non-compliance with 
 fact in some particulars : we are to follow some 
 
 ^ See above, p. 114. 
 
UPON PSYCHOLOGICAL ANALYSIS. 1 8/ 
 
 dispositions, and resist others. The notions of truth 
 of fact and of rightness or goodness are analogous, 
 but the notion of truth of fact is the inferior one, and 
 moraHty has to deal with the other. 
 
 We must not therefore forget, that morality is But mo- 
 in some respects the unreasonable: that when the some re- 
 imperativeness or authority of it is felt, though there reS'onabie. 
 is carried conviction to the mind of a reasonableness 
 in it, it is, as it were, a far off or higher reasonableness, 
 complicated with other feeling, difficult to plead and 
 to produce. The primd facie unreasonableness of 
 morality or goodness as the deliberate choice of any, 
 and the long and laborious process by which the 
 thoughts must be elevated to see the real reasona- 
 bleness of it, is well exhibited in Plato's Eepublic, 
 where the former is brought out in the strongest 
 manner before the consideration of the latter is com- 
 menced. 
 
 It is hard to see, as a matter of simple reason. Ambiguity 
 
 1 1 .i • 11 of the term 
 
 now we are to say whether it is more reasonable to 'reason- 
 take care of ourselves, or to take an equal care of ^ 
 each living being, ourselves included, or to take care 
 of the whole public body (whatever we may consider 
 it) without any special thought of ourselves, or what 
 besides'. The primd facie judgment of mankind, or 
 what some moralists are pleased to appeal to as 
 common sense, seems to say the first : Mr Mill, as we 
 have seen, gives the second: while moralists have 
 usually given the third in some form, as that which 
 is in the highest sense reasonable. 
 
 The fact is, that the words 'reason* and 'reason- iiiustra- 
 able' are of very ambiguous application in this re-5jJ*°Mm^ 
 
 spect : reasonable action beine: such as is directed in ^r^^"^ '■ ^ 
 ^ p the reason- 
 
 reference to what we perceive, know, or think, and able the 
 
 there being very great possibility of difference as toortheid^ai 
 
 ^ See the Appendix to this chapter. 
 
1 88 MORAL IMPERATIVENESS AS BASED 
 
 bytheposi- the manner of this direction. For example, Mr Mill 
 theposi- argues that happiness, or the pleasant, is what all 
 idllrf ^^^ ^^^ ^^^ desire, and hence apparently that it must 
 be, or should be, the scope and aim of action : we 
 do think happiness the valuable thing: therefore we 
 ought to do so\ But again, Mr Mill lays down that 
 our effort to produce happiness should be in equal 
 measure for each whom our action can affect (so I 
 understand Mr Mill's expression ' whom it may con- 
 cern'), ourselves no more than others'. Now suppos- 
 ing this to be a thing which men ought to think, 
 it is certainly not a thing in respect of which it can 
 be proved that they ought to think it from the fact 
 that they do. To teach them to think it, though it 
 might be right, would not be easy. We are here 
 in the difficulty I mentioned above. Is 'the reason- 
 able' what we do think, or what we ought to think? 
 Is 'the reasonable' the correction of the positive by 
 the ideal, or of the ideal by the positive ? We may 
 suppose objectors, from two different points of view, 
 to the doctrines which I have referred to Mr Mill 
 as maintaining: which will have the more reason? 
 In reference to the saying that pleasure is what men 
 do value, the one might object, ''Yes, but it is the 
 business of morality to teach them to value some- 
 thing else more:" while in reference to the saying 
 that men are evidently, in all reason, equal units, and 
 therefore our action should be no more for the happi- 
 ness of one than for that of another, the other from the 
 opposite point of view might object: "Yes, but as a 
 matter of fact, I do value and care for myself, and my 
 own happiness, more than for that of others : and if 
 the fact of man's valuing pleasure or happiness proves 
 the principle of utility, the fact of man's specially 
 
 1 See above, p. 63, &c. 2 gg^ above, p. 89, &c. 
 
UPON PSYCHOLOGICAL ANALYSIS. 1 89 
 
 valuing Ids own happiness must be accepted in proof 
 of a philosophy of selfishness." 
 
 ^I do not dispute Mr Mill's being right in noticing in treating 
 both man's natural value for happiness and the value nessl^^ 
 which he may come to have for fairness in his action }^''^^^ ^''^^ 
 
 •^ ^ lows one 
 
 as between himself and others. I have already said principle, 
 that I do not look on his account of fairness, or right of the ge- 
 distribution of action, as a good one, nor upon his pf^Jg^g ^he 
 account of what men value in the way of happiness ®^*^^^- 
 or pleasure as a good or complete one; but I recog- 
 nize both as things which should have account given 
 of them. My complaint is that he argues along two 
 different lines of thought without at all telling us 
 why at one moment he is following man's action, at 
 another mending it: why he accepts man's value for 
 happiness or pleasure as the fact upon which moral 
 philosophy should be built, and which proves the 
 proper form of such philosophy to be the utilitarian ; 
 and yet refuses to accept, as equally authoritative, 
 the equally undoubted fact of man's special value for 
 his own pleasure, requiring tliis natural principle to 
 be corrected by notions (we will say) of the higher 
 reason, by the notion, for instance, of fairness, of 
 equality of one with another, &c. If we allow the 
 former fact, like the latter, to need correction by 
 higher views, we have no longer utilitarianism, that is, 
 the idea of happiness as the only thing valuable: if 
 we accept the latter fact, like the former, as natural, 
 necessary, and needing no correction, we have simple 
 Epicureanism. Mr Mill's different course of proceed- 
 ing in his dealings with the two facts upon which 
 his philanthropic utilitarianism is built seems to me, 
 so far as the philosophy of it goes, entirely arbi- 
 trary. 
 
 If then we are looking psychologically for moral Reason of 
 imperativeness or authority, and think we find it in no more 
 
1 90 MORAL IMPERATIVENESS AS BASED 
 
 than con- reason, we have to recognize a fact analogous to that 
 piXmomi which met us about conscience ; namely that it is not 
 tiJeness:it^®^^^^ itsclf, but the information, so to call it, of 
 must be which it is the organ, which is the force really acting 
 son or rea- upou US ; that it has no authority at all as reason, 
 appHed/^ but simply as right reason; and then there is to be 
 considered what is the nature of the authority 
 which, as such, it possesses. Whatever reason gives 
 us information of must be, in some manner, fact : 
 and here again we are met, even in the highest 
 regions of thought, by the old difficulty of judging 
 what should he from what is. Or if by reason we 
 mean not knowledge, but judgment ; it must go 
 upon principles ; and what are those principles to 
 be ? When Aristotle tells us that right reason, 
 or the judgment of the wise man, is to fix the 
 particular point between two opposite vices, at which 
 the corresponding virtue resides ; upon what prin- 
 ciples is this reason to judge ? With him it seems 
 hardly to judge otherwise than by the common 
 opinion of men, and common use of words. But 
 what ethics ought somehow to tell us, is how reason 
 should apply the information it possesses, in order to 
 be able to judge what should be done. How are we to 
 use the materials of judgment, such as the opinion of 
 men, the expectation of this or that pleasure, the 
 knowledge of this or that fact or relation ? 
 Reason is Such imperativeness as there is in reason in rela- 
 impTrative tiou to actiou is of two kiuds, very different, of 
 wayr,'*both which two kiuds we have had a hint in the two lines 
 imperfect; Qf rcasoningf which I have iust referred to in Mr 
 
 (i)asasup- ^ . . . ^ 
 
 posed men- Mill's papcrs. The one is a supposition oi a moral 
 tj-.^^fas' imperativeness analogous to the intellectual necessity 
 whe'imT.ig of believing what we are convinced of The other is 
 sense of g^ suppositiou of undcrstood desirableness existing to 
 ness. such an extent as to amount to more than urgency. 
 
UPON PSYCHOLOGICAL ANALYSIS. I9I 
 
 in fact to a sort of felt impossibility that anything 
 else should be done. When phrases like ^ the mor- 
 ality of reason' are used, they have generally reference 
 to the former of these notions. But the morality of 
 consequences, which is of the latter kind, is a 
 morality of reason as much as the other, and has 
 really, if not verbally, been put forward as such by 
 most utilitarian writers as against emotionalists. 
 The imperativeness, it will be seen, is in either case 
 imperfect. The analogy in the former case is not 
 one which very readily commends itself Whether 
 people can believe a lie, knowing it to be one, may 
 be an intellectual question ; but that they can readily 
 do wrong, knowing it to be wrong, is no question, 
 and to call it a moral solecism is not very significant. 
 And in this latter case, however the notion of under- 
 stood desirableness and the notion of imperativeness 
 or necessity tend to meet, it is clear that they never 
 actually do. The condition, ' if you would have . . .', 
 ' or else . . .' may be so evident and important as 
 to vanish from expression, but it does not really 
 vanish from thought. 
 
 These two suppositions belonsr each to a wider ^^''^ o'^® 
 
 111 IP 1 n ^ belongs to 
 
 region of moral thought, the former to that of the the moraii- 
 morality of rule, the latter to that of the morality oftUot™J' 
 end or purpose. It is hardly possible for any moral- Jaiify oT**" 
 ists, whatever they profess, to help taking account of«"^: t^® 
 both of these. Mr MilP blames Kant and the philo- templates 
 sophers of rule for assuming, without acknowledgment, ^me^T 
 the supposedly utilitarian principle that all actions ^^^'^^.^'J^J® 
 are done with a view to happiness, and in the same ideal /w^w** 
 
 ^ ^ n • 1 condition.. 
 
 manner he, as we have seen, assumes (equally without 
 reason given) that action for happiness is to be divided 
 according to a rule of equality among the beings 
 susceptible of happiness. The nature of the force or 
 
 1 UHl. p. 5, 77. 
 
192 MORAL IMPERATIVENESS AS BASED 
 
 stress upon us to act according to the Supreme Kule 
 of Human Action, whether it is penalty, in whicli 
 case the morality of rule tends to resolve itself into 
 that of consequences, or whether it is the quasi- 
 intellectual evidentness of the rule, does not generally 
 distinctly appear. In the same manner in the very 
 notion of acting for an end is implied choice of that 
 end ; necessity or real imperativeness of the end is 
 denied. In each case what is left and clear is that 
 which I have called an ideal, an ideal present order, 
 or an ideal future condition, according to which, 
 or in furtherance of which, our action is directed. 
 These two Rcasou as it contemplates the relations of things, 
 
 moralities -, . . . i i i 
 
 are not auQ roasou as it anticipates probable consequences, 
 posed/^" would be called by some by diiferent names. It is 
 this which has caused much confusion in arguments 
 on the subject. The two manners of its action, or 
 what is equivalent to them, may both be recognized 
 in a system of morality. Right is the word which 
 corresponds to reason : it is that which is right to be 
 done which reason enables us to find, or (if it is right 
 or unmistaken itself) finds for us. i^nd what we 
 find may be that the right thing to be done in the 
 first instance is to promote the general happiness, and 
 then in the second instance that the right thing to 
 be done, in order to this happiness, is such and such 
 a particular thing. Here are two steps or kinds of 
 the action of reason, but quite consistent with each 
 other. Systems of morality may recognize these two 
 steps separately, may mix them more or less con- 
 fusedly together, or may recognize only one of them, 
 applying it also more or less widely. But the morality 
 of rule and of end, of duty and of consequences, are 
 not necessarily inconsistent with, and contra-dis- 
 tinguished from, each other : rightness may be eternal 
 -and unchangeable, and yet consequences, in the way 
 
UPON PSYCHOLOGICAL ANALYSIS. 1 93 
 
 of happiness, may be what should determine at least 
 many particulars of it. 
 
 In fact these two forms of morality, whose endless ^o*^ ^^ve 
 
 • r» 1 • 1 their place 
 
 jar makes up so large a portion or ethical controversy, in a perfect 
 seem both to have their places in a proper ethical tem! ^^^ 
 system; and both have in fact a place in many 
 systems where only one of them is professedly ad- 
 mitted. Both too have their special importance. 
 Tlie morality of duty or rightness has the far stronger 
 imperativeness and the far greater distinctness; an 
 ideal rule or order carrying by the nature of it much 
 more force upon our action than an ideal conception 
 of a future condition, or end which we wish to bring 
 about. On the other hand the morality of conse- 
 quences has the far wider applicability, and is what, 
 in the main, details must be guided by. And Each of 
 the imperativeness in each case is due to that rives its 
 which I have called 'ideality.' So far therefore, if/en a,; 
 as in our psychological search after imperativeness or?J°"J*^^^j^ 
 authority, we find it in reason, it must be a reason it contains, 
 bearing in it very much of the character of imagi- 
 nation, as in fact all the higher reason does. The 
 suggestion to our minds of a moral order of which 
 we form a part, or of a better moral condition 
 which we may make for ourselves, amounts in fact 
 to an imperativeness in this respect, that we are 
 aware of a failing or coming short on our part if we 
 neglect to act upon the suggestion ; which feeling is 
 in reality also a feeling of demerit or preparedness 
 for penalty, under circumstances where penalty is 
 likely to be thought of The ideal suggestion to our 
 minds of a future desirable result (as the general 
 happiness) which we may do something to bring 
 about, carries with it less of imperativeness ; but it 
 may 'carry with it even more urgency than the other, 
 
 13 
 
194 MORAL IMPERATIVENESS AS BASED 
 
 an urgency which may take very much the character 
 of imperativeness. 
 
 So much for the nature and character of the im- 
 perativeness or moral authority of reason in the mind. 
 But it is The felt imperativeness of moral duty is not an 
 
 emotional irresistibleuess, though it is something like it : it is a 
 from the^" fclt urgoncy and incumbency which may be, and very 
 intellectual coustantlv is, rosisted, but the resistance to which is 
 
 part of our • i • i t i • i n 
 
 nature that accompauicd With Sb poculiar regret, which we call 
 tain^rpsy- P^^^^ ^^ conscienco. The psychologic attempts to 
 ex^'iafa'^-^^ aualyse it all more or less treat it as irresistibleness. 
 tionof When we say it belonorg to our reason, we explain 
 
 moral im- ti«ii •! i ••j. 
 
 perative- this, as i havo just showu, either by comparing it 
 S'thir^ with the irresistible force of demonstration (or rational 
 inthesense i^tuitiou) ou tho intellect, or with the almost irre- 
 
 of urgency ^ ' ^ • i i 
 
 rather than sistiblo forco put upou the will by an end all desirable. 
 
 au 109 1 y. ^^^ practically there is more of the character of irre- 
 sistibleness in what we may call moral sensibility than 
 in moral judgment, and in this way there is a more ready 
 psychologic explanation of moral imperativeness by a 
 reference of it to the emotional part of the mind than 
 to the intellectual. The feelings, not well described in 
 modern ethics by the rather cold term of the ^bene- 
 volent' feelings, such as affection, love, pity, act con- 
 stantly with force almost irresistible, and are in this 
 respect imperative in the highest degree. While 
 however this reference better explains the force of 
 moral judgment or feeling than the reference of it to 
 reason, it does not answer well to the sort of notion 
 of authority which we associate with it. The right 
 thing is perhaps more sure to be done under the 
 influence of kindly emotion than from any conviction 
 of reason; but in idea and on the whole we want 
 human moral action to be raised above the character 
 of following simply on impulse and affectionate feeling, 
 
UPON PSYCHOLOGICAL ANALYSIS. 1 95 
 
 as is the case with the action of many of the lower 
 animals. Kindly affection is the only form of morals 
 for them, and raises them up towards man, but in 
 man there should be this, and something more. We 
 do not want men to be always thinking of what they 
 should do, but we want them to be able to think 
 of it. 
 
 I do not know that morality can be described Morality 
 better than as being, in its main and great character, correction 
 the correction of that inevitable self-regard, which is piy nltumi 
 our first and most immediate feeling, by the cultiva- ^^^^'jj^^^^.^y 
 tion and expansion of those feelings (equally native vation of 
 and real, but less immediate) which constitute kindly in combi^ 
 regard for others, and by their combination with^g^^^^*^ 
 reason, from which combination flows justice. Then, 
 as the subordinate character of morality, we require 
 self-cultivation in order to prudence and self-control, 
 without which fit action according to the kindly feel- 
 ing is not possible. 
 
 The development of moral judgment and moral The term 
 sensibility, conjointly, has been considered by many sense; 
 moralists as the operation of a moral sense. They be^en'Lp-^ 
 have thousfht by this use of words to explain the pH^^ ^"^ 
 
 r T • • 11 ,... tills cora- 
 
 felt imperativeness, and the discriminateness or set- binaticn, 
 tledness, with which moral notions present them- help tlTex- 
 selves to the mind. In reality the term 'moral f^^^J^^^^ 
 sense' leaves the moral question where it found it. 
 It does nothing to explain whether morality is an 
 expansion of kindly feeling or of felt duty; or, 
 supposing that it involves both, (and few will doubt 
 that it does,) how we may best exhibit it, and which 
 of the two we should take to start it. 
 
 13—2 
 
APPENDIX TO CHAPTER XIV 
 
 On the adjustment between Self-regakd and Regard 
 FOR Others. 
 
 TJnsatis- That the consulting the happiness of others as distin- 
 justments ' g^ished from exclusive care for our own is the main part of 
 proposed morality, all philosophers are agreed. And they are agreed 
 ley, who ^^^o that here there is work for morality to do; that here 
 makes the there is Something to be taught. The notion involved in the 
 of self the name 'utilitarianism' is, that what needs to be taught is 
 M^^^^^ greater value for happiness, and greater care in the consider- 
 Mill, who ation of what constitutes it. But in reality what needs to 
 equalizes }^q taught is, abetter adjustment than our immediate or lower 
 others, thias nature gives of the relation between our thought for the 
 for^e^that ^^Ppi^^^^ ^^ others and our thought for our own. Our own 
 comes from happiness we feel immediately: the happiness of others we 
 seiUnd^for ^^^ ^® ^^^^ *^ ^^^^ ^^ ^ manner naturally, by sympathy ; but 
 the lesser WO do not do SO simply and immediately. Reason is in doubt 
 surround- ^^ *^ *^® adjustment here, because it is in doubt as to the prin- 
 ing self. ciple or axiom to go upon. What is laid down by Mr Mill as 
 reason or common sense is, that the happiness of each moral 
 being, ourselves included, should be consulted in equal mea- 
 sure : what is laid down as the same by Paley is, that each moral 
 being should act for his own real and final happiness. The 
 reader will perhaps observe here a failure, on the part of each 
 writer, to consider whether he is describing fact or exhibiting 
 an ideal : Mr Mill gives a distorted picture of what is ideally 
 right : Paley treats what is more or less fact as if it were 
 ideal, giving to what is (viz. the exclusive regard for our 
 own happiness) the character of what should he, instead of 
 considering it as what morality may correct. The actual or 
 
 * In the Author's MS these paragraphs form part of the concluding 
 chapter. It seemed to me that they would be more conveniently intro- 
 duced here in illustration of the preceding argument. See above, 
 p. 187. Ed. 
 
SELF-REGARD AND REGARD FOR OTHERS. 1 97 
 
 immediately natural is self-regard, tempered in various ways 
 by feelings of kindliness, of fairness, and of generosity. The 
 ideal is public spirit, not entirely lifting the mind off the 
 original ground of self-regard, but giving to so much of 
 the self-regard as remains such largeness and elevation as is 
 an aid to public spirit and general welfare, not a hindrance. 
 Mr Mill's ideal man with his equal regard for each, himself 
 included, would be, if we may venture to say so, too unsel- 
 fish; he would not be weighted enough to adhere to earth. 
 At the basis of economical society, and as a condition of its 
 vigorous action, must lie the strong impulse upon men to 
 work for themselves, to make their own way, position, and 
 importance. With this, according to the elevation of their 
 nature, will be more or less of the feeling that it is not 
 themselves only, but society, that they are serving. And 
 with it too will be all that semi- selfishness which, when 
 not overdone, is the best bond of public spirit : regard for 
 family, order, class, friends, country, till we come to mankind. 
 
 Human nature itself thus makes the adjustment between 
 self and society to a certain degree, and it is not for morality, 
 from its ideal ground, to overlook this being so. 
 
 We may call by the name of the positive morality of The former 
 reason that which considers that it is our own happiness called the 
 which must be our own object, because there is nothing else positive, 
 which can be desirable for us. And we may call by the the ideal, 
 name of the ideal morality of reason the change of our moral morality of 
 view from being thus self-centred to entire impartiality as The true 
 between self and others. The former of these standino^- adjustment 
 
 o lies m the 
 
 points, the reader may remember, Mr Mill takes when he is combina- 
 finding proofs for utilitarianism: the latter is the notion of both with 
 equal distribution of our action for happiness, which he sub- emotion, 
 sequently introduces into utilitarianism as a part of it. In 
 reality the adjustment, in our view, between self and society 
 is made by an adjustment or meeting of these two views as 
 to what is reasonable, an adjustment very loose and irregular, 
 but real. When we compare man's nature with that of the 
 animals, we see at once that he ought not to be, while in 
 reason superior to them, yet in groundwork and purpose of 
 reason only equal to them, — merely self-regarding: his reason 
 should extend his purpose as well as his means, should make 
 him independently value the happiness of others, as well as 
 
198 SELF-REGARD AND REGARD FOR OTHERS. 
 
 understand it. Keason is a deindividualizing faculty, because 
 the truth which intellectually it concerns, and the rightness 
 which it concerns morally, are in themselves the same for one 
 as for another. But reason in man is not pure and abstract: 
 it can never entirely remove from him his animality, which 
 gives to it certain particular data, and impresses certain 
 particular conditions upon it. For with this is connected not 
 only the self-care which may work against the abstract 
 reason, but also the complicated variety of emotion, which, 
 though in certain particulars it may work against it, in far 
 more, as against this very self-care, is its most powerful ally. 
 The adjustment, as I have said, is irregular; for the feeling 
 in some cases fails, in some overshoots its mark: but still 
 not only are the irregularities of emotion to be corrected by 
 reason, but the mere abstract reason, independent of man, is 
 to be humanized by consideration of man s circumstances and 
 nature. 
 
CHAPTER XIIL 
 
 MORAL IMPERATIVENESS AS BASED UPON IDEALITY OR 
 BELIEF IN HIGHER FACT. 
 
 I HAVE called the appeal to human consciousness General 
 in any form, in reference to the foundation of ethics, of expialn- 
 by the name of the psychological manner of nioral VJfJ'^'^'.''^^ 
 inves titration : and I think it may appear, from what tiveness 
 has been said about this, that there is a double diffi- choiou-y. 
 culty ; first, the finding out exactly what it is that is corsdence 
 thought and felt, and next, the great doubt or diffi- ^'.^"^^^at 
 culty as to whether any appeals to, or investigation dots not 
 of, our consciousness can give us an account of the authority ; 
 fact of the imperativeness of duty. Supposing the ^^,.,t order 
 nativeness or innateness of our conscientious feeling ^.^^^P^^; 
 
 '^ tion IS it 
 
 to be demonstrated against those who would con- compared? 
 sider that any such feeling was an accident of human 
 nature, a result of artificial education and training; 
 what follows on this demonstration of its nativeness? 
 It is not more native than self-regard and much of 
 impulse ; and though, on Butler's principle, the man- 
 ner in which it criticizes these (especially impulse) 
 may imply a superiority in nature over them, yet 
 still, since we see that all that is native is not 
 necessarily right, can we be certain that in this con- 
 scientious feeling vv^e have arrived at the highest 
 rightness, and that it may not be judged by some- 
 thing else in its turn? Let our moral sense be as 
 native and orenuine a sense as can be conceived, still 
 
200 MORAL IMPERATIVENESS AS BASED UPON 
 
 on which stage, on which level, is our action according 
 to it to be placed, on the popular and sensible, or the 
 philosophical and intellectual ? I mean by the former 
 of these stages, that on which we judge, by inevitable 
 necessity, that we are surrounded by a real external 
 world of sights and sounds and solid beings, and by 
 the second stage that on which we analyse what 
 we mean by sight and sound and solidity, and en- 
 deavour to find out how it is that thought and know- 
 ledge of this kind is suggested to as. Is moral 
 truth evident to us in the simple and popular manner 
 in which what we may call truth of the senses is? 
 Do we see a thing to be right as we see a body 
 to be red or square? And if it is so, how is it that 
 moral sensation does not result in that same sort of 
 common understanding and uniform manner of action 
 among men which their simpler physical sensation 
 results in ? Or does moral truth belong to the higher 
 stage? It must do so, if our notion of it is that 
 which rises highest in us in judging the other portions 
 of our being: in that case no sensation which can 
 be judged or tested, only the highest internal sen- 
 sation or intuition, must be allowed to go for any- 
 thing; and how are we to know when we have ar- 
 rived at this? 
 The fact of This rather abstruse matter may be stated simply 
 pn^ement onough thus : if WO merely take man as he is, what 
 noSof'l^® the meaning or use of morality ? and if we are to 
 merely corrcct him or make him what he should he, how are 
 
 positive Mil 1 1 
 
 science of WO possibly to kuow whcu WO havo got the proper 
 moraiy. j^^^.-^^^ ^£ ^ wliat he sliould be'? Is morality simply 
 a positive science of anthropology, hitherto mistakenly 
 involved with various notions either of vain meta- 
 physics or of conventional superficiality, or is it any- 
 thing more ? 
 
 The answer which I have endeavoured to give to 
 
IDEALITY OR BELIEF IN HIGHER FACT. 201 
 
 this question amounts in fact to this, that a true an- 
 thropology cannot be a positive science only, on 
 account of man being a changing, improving, and 
 educable being : that it must involve therefore an 
 idea of 'ought' as well as of fact, of 'should be* as 
 well as of 'is/ and that therefore, however ideas 
 belonging to what we will for a moment call philo- 
 sophy may yield in other sciences to (supposedly) 
 truer notions of matter of fact, here they will not. 
 This non-positive element in such an anthropology 
 I have called ' idealism,' by way of an exceedingly 
 general name ; and I hope what I mean by it will be 
 judged by the explanations I have given of it, and by 
 a reference to the ancient philosophical uses of the 
 term ' idea,' and not by reference to its various uses 
 in modern times. 
 
 But though the idea of that which should he does still the 
 not belong to the region of the things which are in *thatwhieh 
 the way of sensible existence; still it certainly has^^""^'^^^' 
 
 ♦^ . , . •' refers to an 
 
 reference to somethmg as being or existing, to a existing 
 reality which we may conceive more real — real Morality 
 in a higher sense — than anything which our senses considered 
 perceive. How it comes to pass that everything: ^? an ima- 
 
 , p ., , • X • • 1 t ginationon 
 
 possessed ot sensible existence is viewed by us our part 
 (as it undoubtedly is) with a reference to this thought 
 higher reality, so that we predicate of it goodness or ^"^^^ "^jij^^^ 
 badness, rightness or wrongness, is a philosophical being : 
 mystery which philosophers, especially Plato, have act right- 
 variously illustrated. Religion partly, not entirely, thought of 
 belongs to this region of thought : God is, in a ^!j^® ^^"J^* 
 sense in which ' that which should be,' the ideally in us di- 
 good or perfect, is not : but this good actually deter- inferior, 
 mines the will of God (as it ought to do that of 
 all beings capable of morality), and therefore, though 
 not independent of Him, it is not simply a result of 
 His existence. And all morality which is more 
 
202 MORAL IMPERATIVENESS AS BASED UPON 
 
 than positive anthropology, or examination of what 
 man actually has been and is, has in it something of 
 the character of religion. If we think of that which 
 should be, and consider at the same time that the 
 mind and the will of God are according to this, we 
 are in point of fact trying to imagine what it is that 
 He thinks and wills. And I do not know that we 
 can have a better notion of morality than as the 
 imagination, on our part, of the thought and will of a 
 better and superior being. If there can be men 
 better than men, there may be angels better than 
 men, and God better than all. And as we may 
 bring ourselves to think the thoughts, and will the 
 will, of a better man than ourselves, and so to do 
 his actions, so we may do this in some degree in 
 respect of supposed beings altogether superior to us. 
 And morality, in one aspect of it at least, is certainly 
 this. There is a doubleness of mental movement 
 in it, which in some respects is represented better in 
 this way than in any other. When we do a worthy 
 action, we are better than ourselves, we conquer 
 something in ourselves, we rise above something in 
 ourselves, the thought of the superior being in us 
 directs the inferior. I hardly know any clearer way 
 of describing the nature of justice, and the meaning 
 of social or public-spirited action, than saying that 
 it is acting in an inferior position with the thought 
 and range of view of a superior one ; acting as a 
 subject from the point of view of the governor, whose 
 care is the general good. And generosity, which is 
 usually necessary as a road to the higher benevolence 
 and justice, is just this shifting of our point of view 
 from the immediately natural, from that which in a 
 certain sense belongs to us^ to that which may be 
 said to belong to our own ideal nature and to 
 beings superior to ourselves. In this respect there is 
 
IDEALITY OR BELIEF IN HIGHER FACT. 203 
 
 some morality possible for the inferior being which is 
 not possible for the superior ; even generosity is a 
 virtue of struggle, acquiring its meaning and value 
 from a temptation to the contrary, though there is 
 in it that mixture, hard to follow, of a feeling of 
 fulness and freedom and triumph to which I have 
 already alluded ^ 
 
 In order then to establish morality on the basis Each indi- 
 of psychologic investigation, we must be able to find comers to"^ 
 in the mind two sorts of dispositions, the one sort f^^^^ ^^ * 
 having the character of being better and worthier ^e"ior 
 than the other, such as we can imagine belonging of the in-' 
 to beings superior to ourselves, while the other sort alunstead 
 is what we see or imagine as belonging to beings ^^J^'^^^j^" 
 which are inferior. Thus amongst brutes we know interest. 
 that public spirit is, speaking generally, impossible, 
 on account of the limitation of understanding. But 
 morality, before it comes to particulars, is the acting 
 by many as one, and the subordination of each in- 
 dividuality to public purpose: thus, as to purpose 
 or end, the action is social or public, while, as to con- 
 science and conviction, it is individual and private. 
 It is the action of an individual mind which can and 
 does incorporate the general interests with its own; 
 the action, as it were, of a true governor or superior 
 being. We have an example of this in case of danger 
 on shipboard, where all may depend on each individual 
 being able for the time to act as it were with the 
 mind of the captain, whose care is the safety of all : 
 each rises above himself, and above the merely natural 
 prompting towards exclusive self-regard, to take 
 equal thought for others and the whole. 
 
 I think that the feelins: which really lies at the i* >s ^ot so 
 
 1 • 1 • 1 • '^u^" posi- 
 
 root of conscience or moral sense consists m this tive good- 
 attribution of greater worthiness and goodness to attrib^ution 
 
 ^ See above, p. 165. 
 
moral be- 
 ing. 
 
 204 MORAL IMPERATIVENESS AS BASED UPON 
 
 ofsuperior- Certain dispositions ; and that if moralists had bet- 
 tamdSpo- ter understood this, some confusion would have 
 pM ili^°^ been spared. Psychologic investigation has been 
 self-con- devoted to the search after a human eroodness; and 
 
 demnation, ^ , , ^ 
 
 which on the finding of this, it has been supposed, the 
 to be a question, Is morality a real thing or not? depends. 
 It should have been remembered, that a feeling. on 
 the part of men of condemnation of such badness 
 as there is, is quite as much, or more, what it is 
 wanted to find. The moralists who have taken plea- 
 sure in representing human nature in an odious 
 light have, by the very fact of their doing so, borne 
 as much witness to man's condemnation of himself in 
 this character, to the notion in him of something dif- 
 ferent which he would rather be, and hitherto perhaps 
 has more or less thought himself, as they have done 
 to the fact of the existence of the bad feelings which 
 they detect. And this self-condemnation shows man 
 to be a moral being quite as much, if in a different 
 way, as any native unconscious goodness. Any 
 notion of himself, on the part of man, as bad or im- 
 perfect bears witness of an ideal in him of goodness 
 and perfectness. 
 Expiana- But if morality be thus ideal ; if it is the effort to 
 
 idea of re- supcrinduce a better nature upon a worse or lower, 
 sponsibiii- ^Yie development of the former by society and educa- 
 
 ty as re- ... 
 
 gards our tiou, and the imagination, on our part, of the thought 
 the higher and will of better natures without us, — what is the 
 meaning of responsibility in regard of it? and how, 
 though there may be merit in our rising to the higher 
 nature, is there demerit, wrong, or punishableness in 
 our remaining in the lower nature ? 
 
 It appears to me, that in regard of this idea, 
 'can' and 'ought' go together in the mind. What- 
 ever of good we can be, we ougld to be. The perfect- 
 ness of state, which the idea aims at, involves both 
 
 nature. 
 
IDEALITY OR BELIEF IN HIGHER FACT. 205 
 
 goodness and happiness. In this point of view 
 therefore punishableness, so far as the notion of it 
 attaches to our following the worse course, is not a 
 legal or jural idea, but means the risk of missing or 
 losing what it would be well for us to have : in 
 keeping ourselves in the worse and lower state, we 
 fail of happiness as well as of goodness. 
 
 The notion of both the great ancient philosophers, it is partly 
 Plato and Aristotle, is of an ideally perfect individual ^oUoatng^^ 
 life, which therefore must be both good and happy. ^^® ^l^^^. 
 Of these two features of it, however, the first has been 
 recognized in all moral controversy as the more im- 
 portant. That is to say, many moralists, as Plato, 
 have set themselves to make out that without good- 
 ness happiness is impossible, and they have generally 
 in doing this taken the analogy of disease, and asked, 
 Is it possible that the soul can be happy, which is 
 diseased, scarred, and wounded with vice ? On the 
 other hand, no philosophers have ever maintained 
 that goodness is impossible without happiness. No 
 doubt the perfectness of an assumed ideal state has 
 been often challenged on the ground of its defective 
 happiness : such was the line of argument constantly 
 maintained against the Stoics, who considered that 
 the heavenly bodies were animated and were perfect 
 deities, and also that their wise man, though apparently 
 no better off than any one else, was always perfectly 
 happy : under these circumstances the ceaseless move- 
 ment of the former, and the non-exemption of the lat- 
 ter from the ordinary troubles of life, gave occasion for 
 constant ridicule against the Stoic notions of divinity 
 and perfection. But still it has been generally felt that 
 goodness enters much more intimately than happiness 
 into every ideal of perfection. What Plato and mora- 
 lists like him in all ages have endeavoured to make 
 out may be described as being this, If you are good 
 
206 MORAL IMPERATIVENESS AS BASED UPON 
 
 from the love of goodness, happiness will follow (good- 
 ness for the sa.ke of the happiness not being ho7idjide 
 goodness) ; and if you are not good from this love, 
 happiness is impossible. And goodness, as we have 
 seen, is the acting in the manner in which a better 
 being than ourselves would act, if, in speaking of 
 ourselves, we think of that which is often the first 
 to come into our thoughts and to tempt us, and 
 which, generalized, forms much of the foundation of 
 human life, as it actually exists. Our nature there- 
 fore is in a manner put upon an acclivity; to gain 
 our happiness we must strive upwards, and raise 
 ourselves as it were above ourselves : the punishment 
 of failing to do so is the failing itself, in its character 
 of loss of much which might be our happiness. 
 partly the Jdoas howover of responsibility or punishment sfo 
 tion of an bcyond ourselves, and do not properly belong to that 
 society to view of morals which has reference to a higher and a 
 beiongind lowor naturo. Our imagination not only sets before 
 laws of ^^ ideal natures superior to our own, but it sets 
 which we before us an ideal moral society. It is thus that 
 * right conduct is ideally imperative upon us, just as 
 obedience to the laws of the human society in which 
 we live is actually so. This latter obedience has 
 more than one hold, so to call it, upon us : there is, 
 first, a certain amount of participation in, and consent 
 with, such laws, from our perception of their reason 
 and meaning ; secondly, our feeling how necessary 
 and useful it is to the society that laws should be ob- 
 served; and finally, our dread of the penalty imposed. 
 In corresponding ways the moral law is ideally im- 
 perative ; first of all, from a sympathy with it, a per- 
 ception of its reason and meaning, (which perception 
 has in it something, widely speaking, of an utilita- 
 rian character, that is, it is perception of the good of 
 the law, though such good is not simply happiness in 
 
IDEALITY OR BELIEF IN HIGHER FACT. 20/ 
 
 the sense of pleasure); next, from the feeling how 
 important it is that there should be general laws of 
 human observance (a feeling which morality cannot 
 be without, though it is a feeling on which too much 
 is built by utilitarian writers) ; and finally, from the 
 dread of punishment. 
 
 In speaking thus however am I not allowing that This is not 
 man is simply what he is, like any other animal, and saying timt 
 that the notion of himself as good or bad, the notions Mea^arf a 
 of duty, virtue, responsibility, and others, are sug- ^^''^ y®^"^* 
 gested by human laws and their accompanying and educa- 
 penalties, are in fact a mere result of society and 
 education ; this society having for its source nothing 
 moral in man, but that same desire of security and 
 mutual cooperation which we witness to a certain 
 deofree in other animals^? 
 
 On this it is to be observed, that there is this great it is at any 
 difference between man and other animals, viz. that tfnctive 
 these notions do become formed. If any one cares °^^^^'^ 
 to say that man is not a moral being, but makes him- *^^*^^® ^^ 
 self so J that he is not ideal and improvable but makes capable of 
 himself so before he improves, let him by all means lopmenr* 
 say so. It is man's nature then so to make himself : {'^'J.Jy'"®^^^^" 
 that association which in wolves or beavers is fruitful naturally 
 no further than to the catching a common prey, or so that the 
 building a common abode, is in him fruitful to the manls^he 
 generation in his mind of all those ideas which we *^^J[;^\°^ 
 have spoken of, which make him quite a different man. 
 sort of creature from what he would be without them, 
 namely, a moral and self-improving creature. The 
 saying that moral ideas (as for instance the idea of 
 puuishableness in respect of wrong) come by educa- 
 tion, sets the question^ as I have already observed, 
 in no different light from that in which it was before. 
 I should say in bad Latin, Nihil in educatione qucd 
 
 ^ See above, p. i68. 
 
208 MOHAL IMPERATIVENESS AS BASED UPON 
 
 non prius in capacitate. If we prefer saying ' man is 
 educable to morality' to saying 'he is a moral being/ 
 let us do so ; provided only we understand, as is the 
 fact, that this education with man in society is 
 universal ; that it has in no respect the appearance 
 of an accidental training, as of dogs to point or fetch, 
 but rather that of a regular or intended development 
 of nature. 
 
 Any universal or regular result of education must 
 be considered to have a basis beyond education 
 itself In other words, if we find anything which 
 man by education regularly becomes, any feeling 
 which by education is regularly developed in him, 
 that is what man most truly is, and that feeling is 
 what is most properly natural to him. Brutes are 
 born with their intellectual and moral nature, such as 
 it is, made for them or developed uniformly and most 
 rapidly ; when they are in society with man, there is 
 much strange exception, or rather addition, to this ; 
 and he, man, the superior nature, has power to 
 produce strange modification in their inferior natures 
 by special training. But man has in a manner to 
 make his intellectual and moral self, and the specialty 
 of the nature which God has given him is this power. 
 I speak of man collective; in respect to man indivi- 
 dual, what I say will be, that we must look to 
 educated man for what corresponds to the natural 
 or untrained brute animal. 
 Even The force or point of the saying, that the feel- 
 
 Bhoufdbe ing of moral responsibility is a result of education 
 ourfetw ^^^ society, lies in the supposition that education 
 of moral and socictv are superfluities or accidents of human 
 
 responsi- i • i • i i • i -i • 
 
 biiityis nature, which man might be without, and still be 
 
 underThe worthy to be called man. Let us say, if we will, 
 
 ofsoder ^^^^ ^^^ regularly (for it is regularly, if not univers- 
 
 fromvery ally) makcs himself, in feeling, morally responsible. 
 
IDEALITY OR BELIEF IN HIGHER FACT. 209 
 
 or comes regularly to think himself so. Every in- incongru- 
 ference of the reality of the fact of moral respon- m^entsrstiii 
 sibility or punishableness from the existence of the ^^^n'^tJ'^ 
 feelinq of it will hold as well with the feelinsr stated question 
 
 • 1- /» • 1 • • -n -- Its validity, 
 
 m this form as m any other : that is, it will hold for aii our 
 to the full extent of that region of thought within areTorme'd 
 which we may conclude from any feeling, sentiment, '^^7.^^*"^ 
 or sensation of ours to the existence of a corre- 
 sponding fact. Whatever of importance we learn, 
 we come hy degrees to learn: and the final idea 
 is something exceedingly different from anything 
 apparently or distinctly contained in the steps of 
 the learning; and hence it is always competent to 
 philosophy to say, that we introduce in the process 
 a vast deal of our own, — a consideration which, 
 according to the philosophy, takes various forms; 
 one form being, that the result is not warranted. 
 Our idea of the prospect before our eyes, which we 
 call perhaps a perception of a number of different 
 objects in an expanse of space, is something extraor- 
 dinarily different from the various titillations of the 
 optic nerve, and shiftings of the axis of the eye, and 
 movements of the limbs, and corrected misjudgments 
 of all kinds, which are the complicated materials 
 from which is built up the above apparently simple 
 piece of observation. What philosophic warrant we 
 may have for seeing things as we do, and whether 
 they really are as we see them, may be a matter for 
 philosophers to discuss; but, in any case, our seeing 
 them as we do is not a matter of accident or conven- 
 tion : some fact, even in the abstractest and ab- 
 strusest region of reality, must correspond to it and 
 give reason for it. Let it be granted then even that 
 we owe the notion of our moral responsibility to the 
 fact of our having been brought up in an actual 
 society and made to feel our responsibility there, and 
 
 14 
 
210 MORAL IMPERATIVENESS AS BASED UPON 
 
 that this actual society has owed its origin to no 
 sort of feeling of moral desirableness, but only to 
 fear or expediency, or motives similar to these ; why 
 is the regular feeling of a rightful punishableness, 
 attaching to us (even without denounced punish- 
 ment) in the event of our doing certain actions 
 which we call wrong, to be considered a vain and 
 visionary feeling because it is generated from ele- 
 ments apparently discordant from it, any more than 
 other particulars of our thought and knowledge ; for 
 instance our conception, just alluded to, of the pros- 
 pect before us ? The feeling may tell us little as to 
 the ^particulars of our moral responsibility, who it 
 is that we are responsible to: but it may be ac- 
 cepted as telling us that we are responsible'. 
 But in fact ^^\^ this is uot the real ground upon which the 
 main con- qucstiou should \>Q placcd, becauso the idea, which 
 socieTyas Hiakcs itself thus distiuct at the end of these pro- 
 weiiasa cesses of cducatiou, has in truth been at work all 
 
 remit of it. ' 
 
 Different aloug them. Man can only be taught, irregularities 
 
 this moral and oxceptious apart, to see that which it is his nature 
 
 ^^^** to see ; he cannot be educated except to that for which 
 
 he is educable. The notion of moral responsibility, 
 
 ^ Mr Mill, though maintaining that the moral feelings are not 
 innate but acquired (p. 44), and appearing sometimes to deny the 
 existence of any original moral element in the final moral idea, as 
 in his derivation of virtue from self-interest (pp. 53, 54) and of the idea 
 of duty or justice from that of penal sanction, yet strongly upholds 
 the validity of the moral feelings in their final development. Thus, 
 speaking of the conscientious feelings of mankind, he says (p. 42), ' The 
 feelings exist, a fact in human nature, the reality of which, and the 
 great power with which they are capable of acting on those in whom 
 they have been duly cultivated, are proved by experience : ' and, in 
 p. 44, ' If the moral feelings are acquired, they are not for that reason 
 less natural. It is natural to man, to speak, to reason, to build cities, 
 to cultivate the ground, though these are acquired faculties. Like the 
 other acquired capacities, the moral faculty, if not a part of our nature, 
 is a natural outgrowth from it ; capable like them in a certain small 
 degree of springing up spontaneously; and susceptible of being brought 
 by cultivation to a high degree of development.' Ed. 
 
IDEALITY OR BELIEF IN HIGHER FACT. 211 
 
 which is in fact the imagination of a moral society of 
 which we are members, is in its less developed form 
 a main constituent of the formation of societies, as in 
 its more developed it is a result of them. It is a 
 feeling without which man evidently does not, and 
 cannot, rise to any self improvement. The feeling 
 ' wrong must lead to harm ' is a feeling in some par- 
 ticulars like, in some unlike, that of 'mistake of 
 means must lead, so far, to failure of end.' Wrong 
 is failure in the general means to good, and harm is 
 failure as to the general end. It is the anticipation 
 of the incidence of the harm upon the agent himself, 
 along what we may call some moral course, which 
 makes the fact of moral responsibility. The manner 
 of the incidence thus dreaded is very various, ac- 
 cording to the comparative nobleness of nature of 
 the agent himself. Where this nobleness is great, 
 the sight of the incidence of the harm on others 
 would be the heaviest incidence of it on the agent 
 himself, and any actual punishment on himself would 
 be a relief from such sight. In such a nature the 
 feeling of responsibility is the thought, not of what 
 may happen to the man himself, but rather of the im- 
 portance of what he does, and dread of the harm he 
 may do or of the loss of the good which he may 
 fail to do. The feeling again may be more abstract 
 and general, or may be more definite and personal, 
 having reference to a superior: and as directed to 
 the superior it may be of every kind, from love 
 without dread to dread without love. The simple 
 fear of punishment, the lowest of all the many 
 forms, arises when the agent anticipates harm to 
 himself from some superior supposed to be interested 
 in the guardianship of the law, while he himself is 
 not so interested. 
 
 Again society supposes more or less of mutual .^^^'^^s t^« 
 
 14—2 
 
212 MORAL IMPERATIVENESS AS BASED UPON 
 
 responsibi- attachment, and a certain amount of obedience. 1 have 
 cation in sftid that goodness may be described as the thinking 
 veiopJsin ^^^ thoughts and feeling the feelings of a supposed 
 us the idea superior being- : besides this, . it is more or less also 
 
 of acting I . .® 
 
 for the hap- the subjugatiou of our own nature to such a being: 
 athers,and it has iu somo rcspects the character of obedience. 
 to tile wiif I^ many points of view, the two notions are not far 
 of others remote from each other. The risinor above ourselves, 
 
 imagined ^ ^ 
 
 worthier and the obeying what is imagined worthier than our- 
 selves, selves, have that samo kind of relation which I have 
 before alluded to in speaking of the manner in which 
 the notion of duty and of most perfect freedom of 
 action unite themselves together in the best natures', 
 so that the action in regard of which there is the 
 strongest feeling on the part of the agent that he 
 could not possibly help doing it, is at the same time 
 the action which is done with the most force of in- 
 dividual will. Morality is the correcting of self- 
 regard, whether this self-regard be in the way of 
 interest, or in the way of opinion ; that is, it is the 
 cultivation of care for the happiness of others as well 
 as for our own, and also of care for the will or wish 
 of others as well as for our own : we have in some 
 measure to forget both our own will, and our own 
 happiness. This must be something more than mere 
 complaisance or readiness to obey, which in itself has 
 very little moral value : we have to yield our wills to 
 that which ought to be yielded to, and study to 
 promote such happiness as ought to be promoted. 
 And this ' ought' is the great point of morality, the 
 ideal which we have spoken so much of Education 
 in society thus developes in us the idea, not only of 
 responsibility, but more generally, both of acting with 
 a view to others as well as to ourselves, and of yield- 
 ing our will to that of others, that is, of obedience. 
 
 ^ See above, p. 165. 
 
IDEALITY OR BELIEF IN HIGHER FACT. 21 3 
 
 And this latter feeling in its successive steps of 
 moral force and elevation, whether as deference, or 
 as obedience, or as self-devotion, is good and of moral 
 value in itself y independently of the consideration of 
 the happiness which it tends to produce. Had it no 
 tendency to produce anything or to make any change, 
 it would still be good. Reason has to seek not only 
 what ends it may best work for, but where it may 
 most worthily submit itself and obey. 
 
 Something, it is to be said, of a religious character 
 mixes itself with morality, in all cases where the idea 
 of moral responsibility or conscience comes in. I will 
 therefore end this chapter here, and speak shortly in 
 the next about the relation of morals to religion. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 ON THE RELATION OF MORALS TO RELIGION. 
 
 Mischiefs Wherever the consideration of morality is divorced 
 from"the from that of religion, as is a good deal the case at 
 moraiT °^ ^^^ present time, moral philosophy has a tendency to 
 andreii- lose all its depth and earnestness, and to become 
 simply a matter of literature, and religion to lose half 
 at least of its power over minds of any activity of 
 thought and feeling. If moral philosophy is only 
 criticism, and religion only dogma, to what are we to 
 look for the direction of human life? The most im- 
 portant region of thought and knowledge to man, 
 whenever any thought is stirring, is that which con- 
 cerns his own life and character. Whether we can 
 know much about this or not is doubtful, but at 
 least we are always wanting to know : and it is when 
 religion or morality, or both united, grapple with this 
 subject that they command attention and exert real in- 
 fluence, not necessarily at the moment (for constantly 
 the most empty things have that sort of influence), but 
 in moulding opinion for the future. The subject both 
 of moral philosophy and of religion is human life as 
 it is and as it should be. And vast as this subject is 
 in the view of moral philosophy, it is vaster still in 
 that of religion, which expands indefinitely before our 
 imagination the ideas both of the moral universe and 
 of human duration. When we take account of the 
 
ON THE RELATION OF MORALS TO RELIGION. 2 1 5 
 
 information furnished us by religion, we are crea- 
 tures distinctly of a far longer span of being than we 
 should otherwise know ourselves to be, and members 
 of a far wider, though unseen, moral society. Yet 
 it is good that moral philosophy should exist as a 
 science or manner of thought separately from religion, 
 though not properly independently of it, or at least 
 not in a form inconsistent with true views of it : for, 
 religious opinions being very various in the world 
 and likely to continue so, moral philosophy may both 
 furnish a ground of common understanding where 
 religion fails to do this, and also may help to show 
 which is the more true among different forms of 
 religion. But religion cannot exist at all, in any 
 influential form, without incorporating into itself a 
 vast mass of thought which belongs properly to moral 
 philosophy. 
 
 Moral philosophy however, if it be good and 
 earnest, yearns after religion when it is separated 
 from it; and it is this which, from some points of 
 view, may cause a well-founded dread lest it should 
 make a religion for itself, neglecting considerations 
 which ought then to be introduced. The religion 
 so made is rather defective than actually wrong, if 
 the moral philosophy which makes it be true and 
 elevated. 
 
 By religion, in the most general sense of it, I Religion 
 mean the having more or less the idea of a future pfateTl 
 state for man, and also of the existence of one or g^^^^and 
 more moral beinofs, not the ordinary subjects of sen- presents to 
 
 . , I 11 "^^'^ moral 
 
 sible experience, with whom nevertheless man may objects to 
 have moral relations, and whom (or some of whom) ^"^"^ '^' 
 he may worship. Morality at once leads to the 
 imagination or anticipation of such a wider moral 
 world, and its anticipations, so far as reason may 
 be considered to justify them, make what we call 
 
2t6 on the relation of morals to religion.. 
 
 natural religion : revealed religion confirms and adds 
 to this. As there has been in the world an abund- 
 ance of mistaken moral or natural religion, so there 
 has been an abundance also of superstition and idol- 
 atry wrongly supposed to have been communicated 
 to man's knowledge. 
 In the This superstition however would rarely have been 
 
 ancient • i i t i n 
 
 world wor- what it has been, so little a benefit to men, so 
 w/thour^ nauch an injury, if it had not been in general dis- 
 "'^gfjjg^i^. joined from all moral considerations. Owing to this, 
 ably sepa- whatovcr fi^raius there were in it of truth, and of 
 
 rated from ^ n ^ p«ii it it 
 
 religious, valuo lor man s nature, failed and disappeared, in 
 thought.' 9.11 the later times of the pagan world there may be 
 said to have been two religions, the moral religion 
 of the philosophers, entirely wanting in the element 
 of worship, and the popular worship, more true in 
 this respect to the notion of religion, but quite want- 
 ing in morality. The religious thought of the ancient 
 world is to be found in its moralists (as in Plato) 
 wanting however in that which, if the traditional 
 religion had been better than it was, it might have 
 looked for there, namely, reverence and worship, the 
 notion of actual mental communication with that 
 higher moral world the idea of which was conceived 
 and developed. 
 Revealed The eudcavour to keep the religious thought, 
 
 religion in* -i -T 
 
 and moral- which moral reflexion generates, m harmony with a 
 eEh"ieIrn system of worship so false as was the old Pagan, 
 othTr*^^ may have been really impracticable and undesirable. 
 Even the task of keeping such thought in harmony 
 with a system of worship as true as we have reason 
 to believe our own, is not altogether easy, and yet it 
 is a most necessary task, and one of which the value 
 ought to be recognized from both sides. Morality 
 and revealed religion ought to help to commend each 
 other to us. Their disagreement is an argument 
 
ON THE RELATION OP MORALS TO RELIGION. 21/ 
 
 against both, weakening the force of the reasoning 
 or sentiment upon which we receive the one, and of 
 the testimony on which we receive the other. This 
 consideration is important against the summary man- 
 ner in which we are occasionally inclined to lay down 
 a principle taken from the one or the other side, and 
 to say. All must yield to this. For instance, it may 
 be asserted that all we have to do is to satisfy our- 
 selves of the exact bearing and force of the testimony 
 given to certain facts, and then to believe, without 
 caring whether what we thus believe recommends 
 itself to us on moral grounds. Or the course taken 
 may be just the opposite; we may overdo our moral 
 anticipations, as we may overdo the possible force 
 of testimony in proving things relating to religion. 
 Morality has much to learn from revelation supported 
 by testimony, and it seems to me that the best 
 morality is likely to be the readiest to feel and ac- 
 knowledge this. But morality will not submit to learn 
 everything from what professes itself such a revela- 
 tion : one thing at least it must feel as given it by 
 God, viz. its conviction of what is right and true ; 
 and this it has no right to abdicate in favour of what 
 can at any rate have no higher credentials. 
 
 Kevelation then and human moral feeling have Where 
 to meet ; as soon as we try to make one of the two divorced, 
 absolute over the other, we are really beginning that deglne""- 
 divorce of them which I have deprecated. They rates into 
 may both live on after such a divorce : we may have morality 
 on the one side a dogmatic religion caring for distinctly^ 
 nothing but acknowledgment and obedience, though j^geg^jg''^^ 
 associatinsr itself not unfrequently, in temperaments practical 
 
 , . 1 1. .1 t n power and 
 
 disposed to devotion and contemplation, with much or is apt to 
 genuine and worthy worship ; and we may have on mrrTiL- 
 the other side a speculative religious morality ab-^\^^?^^*^ 
 sorbing every disposition to religious thought, but 
 
2l8 ON THE RELATION OF MORALS TO RELIGION. 
 
 losing all hold on positive belief and with it all power 
 of influencing masses of men, and all tendency to 
 worship or do any definite service to the Divine 
 Being who is thought about. Besides these, we 
 shall of course very likely have a moral philosophy 
 which is simply literature and criticism, without any 
 care or effort to direct life; and a moral philosophy 
 also which shall aspire to direct life, but in opposition 
 to whatever can really be called rehgion. Against 
 these wrong views, can we not succeed in giving to 
 moral philosophy its proper place and its own ground, 
 allowing it here an independent stand even against 
 what may profess itself religion, and in this way 
 securing for what is really religion its support and 
 not its opposition ? Can we not understand how 
 rehgion is not only strengthened but infinitely ani- 
 mated and realized by moral philosophy, and how 
 moral philosophy itself, which without religion pre- 
 sents to us so many paths speedily barred and dark 
 before our investigation (if indeed we pass beyond 
 literature and criticism to such effort), is supplemented 
 by religion, and a way opened for us to new fields of 
 truth, of reality, and of goodness ? 
 A true The thought which belongs to a true moral phi- 
 
 phiiosophy losophy inevitably leads to the asking many questions 
 quSns which only religion can answer. And it leads to 
 and creates what WO mav Call the formation of a number of moral 
 which only wauts which Only religion can satisfy. Independently 
 can°sat^sfy. ^f religion, that is, independently of any distinct 
 reference on man's part to God as acting, I believe, 
 under certain reservations which will appear further 
 on, the improvement of human nature to be a most 
 real and possible thing, as a result of moral con- 
 sideration and of knowledge. And I believe that 
 man's condition upon earth, under reasonable circum- 
 stances of civilization and improvement, is to be 
 
ON THE RELATION OF MORALS TO RELIGION. 219 
 
 considered on the whole a good or happy one, so far 
 as we are able, by comparison, to give a meaning 
 to such an expression. But it is impossible to con- 
 template human improvement and human happiness 
 without seeing that, whatever may have been done, 
 there is much not done, but still wanting, in regard 
 of them. I think the moral idealist who is not a 
 mere visionary is the person of all others most likely 
 to be drawn towards religious notions by a feeling 
 of the impossibility that something of the kind, some 
 such notions, should not be. It must every now and 
 then strike him as almost nonsense or profanation to 
 speak of improvement in view of the vice and wicked- 
 ness constantly before him, or of this life being a 
 happy one in view of its manifold and continual 
 forms of suffering. But if he has got in his mind 
 the ideas of goodness and happiness as that which 
 should or ought to be, which is much the same as 
 the idea of man being intended for something, and 
 not merely, as a matter of fact, existing like a leaf 
 or a stone; then he cannot but imagine, anticipate, 
 already (we may say) in some particulars have come 
 to know, the news which revelation may bring him 
 of a wider sphere of moral existence of which this 
 is a portion. No person who has seriously thought 
 about moral philosophy can expect from it a real 
 solution of the difficulties and perplexities of human 
 life. But it may help him to see more clearly the 
 nature of these and to think more wisely about 
 them, and (if he is willing to go on so far) I think it 
 will help to direct his way to where such solution as 
 is apparently possible on earth may be found. 
 
 The reader will see that I have no disposition to Even 
 sacrifice morality to the necessity and importance of ^ligilJli 
 religion, that is, to argue for the necessity and truth ha^a^vJiue 
 of religion from the (supposed) fact that morality ^nts own. 
 
220 ON THE RELATION OF MORALS TO RELIGION. 
 
 without it, is impossible, wrong, or absurd. Morality 
 without religion is unsatisfactory, insufficient for 
 human expectations and human wants : but it is not 
 valueless; and in the absence of religion it has nobly 
 served mankind. It both points us towards religion 
 and in the mean time, if it is earnest, helps us from 
 itself. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 ON THE POSITION OF UTILITARIANISM IN THE HISTORY 
 OF PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 [Thus far we have been occupied with a general General 
 review of Mr Mill's neo-utilitarianism, pointing out Jfon^ 
 in what respects his system differs from other forms 
 of utilitarianism, and examining at length the proof 
 which he offers for it, and the main points of 
 the system itself, viz. the account which it gives of 
 happiness and pleasure, of virtue, duty and the 
 moral sentiment. On each of these points the 
 author has set his own view by the side of that 
 which he controverts, and particularly in the later 
 chapters he has endeavoured to explain the source 
 of the imperativeness of morality, and has shown how 
 it is connected with considerations of religion. The 
 subject of the present chapter is the history of 
 utilitarianism; the chapters which follow contain 
 an examination of the claims which it puts forward 
 on other grounds than those of scientific proof 
 One such claim is its Practical Character, another 
 its supposed connexion with the Inductive Method 
 and with the Philosophy of Progress in generaP.] 
 
 I shall endeavour in this chapter to show how why has 
 
 -1 p /» 'T utilitanan- 
 
 it IS that, as a matter of history and oi tact, utili- ism been so 
 tarianism has had the misfortune to be so generally 3lr8kl^ 
 misapprehended as, to judge from these papers of ^^^^^[j;^^'^ 
 
 ^ This paragraph is added by the editor. 
 
222 HISTORY OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 Mr Mill's, it would appear to have been. No other 
 school of philosophy seems to have had so many 
 enemies. How is it? And what is the real rela- 
 tion of utilitarianism to other moral systems which 
 there have been? Let us look first at the word, and 
 then at the thing. 
 The name The word Utile, or the useful, has in ethical use 
 misleading Carried with it a double antithesis ; or perhaps it 
 conTras^^ would bc more correct to say, that in ethics proper 
 which it it has generally been used in contrast with the 
 
 suggests 7 11 
 
 (i)hetween honestum, the worthy or honourable, and m ethics 
 and^duice: looso and popular, as of the poets, it has been used 
 in contrast with the dulce, the wanning or pleasant. 
 Mr Mill in language of a kind not unfrequent in 
 these papers, but which one is rather surprized to 
 find coupled with such a regard as he has for the 
 equality of men, finds fault with^ 'the common herd, 
 including the herd of writers ' for ^ perpetually falling 
 into the shallow mistake' of supposing that the word 
 utilitarianism implies an idea of morality contradis- 
 tinguished from the pleasant, the agreeable, or the 
 ornamental. Surely those who introduced the word, 
 if they had ever read Horace, we will say, must 
 have contemplated the probability of the misappre- 
 hension : much as a morality calling itself dulcedina- 
 rianism would be supposed to distinguish itself from 
 one treating rather of the drily useful. Utilitarianism 
 too, I think, has earned reputation with some from 
 its name, as paying exclusive attention to the solidly 
 valuable ; though Mr Mill says little of any mis- 
 apprehensions there may have been for the better. 
 But in making a name we must be prepared for 
 the ideas which it may suggest whether favorable 
 or unfavorable 2. 
 
 1 fJtil. p. 9. 
 ' Bentham himself confessed that the term ' utility,' which he bor- 
 rowed from Hume, was unsatisfactory, and proposed to substitute the 
 
HISTORY OF UTILITARIANISM. 223 
 
 It is the same as to the antithesis between the (2)betwe<n 
 utile and the honestum. I have no wish to justify and /JnV 
 the misapprehensions which led to the hard language ^^^' 
 used about utilitarianism in past times (as when, 
 in a famous sermon \ I once myself heard the phrase, 
 'the lowest of the low, the utilitarian himself); 
 but there is no doubt that some (perhaps not a 
 few) on the utilitarian side have used and intended 
 the word utilitarian as a provocative of them ; taking 
 pride in the condemnation of notions of honour, and 
 of the finer and higher emotions, as empty preju- 
 dices. Here again utilitarianism has gained credit 
 with some as suggesting by its title that it is the 
 true morality of common sense; and if it takes un- 
 deserved gain, it must be prepared for undeserved 
 loss. If Mr Mill had been willing that the philo- 
 sophical school which he is defending should be call- 
 ed after its founder, like Epicureanism, or by some 
 name of no ethical significance, like Stoicism, no 
 such misapprehensions could have arisen ; if he 
 chooses to give a descriptive name, he must take 
 the harm with the good. He cannot make such 
 a name suggest exactly what he wants, and nothing 
 more. He is master of the future significance of a 
 name which had not been morally applied before, 
 but not of one which had. 
 
 But leaving the name, let us come to the thing. '^^^ "npo- 
 I have called by the name of philosophical'^ utilita- may also 
 rianism the very wide and general doctrine, that accounte'ii 
 
 . for from its 
 phrase 'greatest-happiness-principle' for 'principle of utility/ See history, 
 his Woi'ks, I. 271, X. 582. In the latter passage he is reported as 
 saying 'Utility was an unfortunately chosen word. The idea it gives 
 is a vague one. Dumont insists on retaining the word. He is bigoted, 
 old, and indisposed to adopt what is new, even though it should be 
 better.' A late writer on the same side suggests henejicential in place 
 of utilitarian. See the Fortnightly Review for May 1869. Ed. 
 
 ^ I have not been able to identify this. Ed. 
 
 2 See above p. 58. - • 
 
224 HISTORY OF UTILITARIANISM.. 
 
 what gives moral value to actions (i.e. makes them 
 
 good and right), is really their felicific power alone 
 
 (i.e. their conduciveness to somebody's happiness). 
 
 The word utilitarianism is not a good word to 
 
 express this; but I have used it for the sake of 
 
 clearness, understanding by it the most general 
 
 philosophical form of the doctrine, of which what 
 
 Mr Mill defends is a particular case. 
 
 utiiitari- It is not easy to describe in a few words the 
 
 the 1 8th ethical spirit of a period without liability to error, 
 
 wTs^r*^ but I think we may say that from the early part of 
 
 revolt ^-j^Q J 3 th century the spirit of ethics was becoming 
 
 against ju- . . . , , ^ , i i • i t 
 
 rai ethics, utilitarian in the general sense of the word which I 
 emotional havo givcu ; that is, happiness was becoming more a 
 s^rtative Prominent idea and a matter of contemplation ; the 
 eventually gtoic or jural couccptiou of cthics was giving place 
 andreform- to the Epicurcau, and the ideas of rule, duty, and 
 ^°^* natural law, were gradually being superseded by 
 
 that of action towards happiness. The form in 
 which this tendency to Epicureanism showed itself 
 was at first emotional rather than exact and matter- 
 of-fact ; and no wonder, the whole being a reaction 
 against the supposed dryness and dogmatism of the 
 ethics of natural law. In its commencement this 
 reform, as it was considered, of ethics was literary 
 and scientific, rather than practical : moral philoso- 
 phers sought to put ethics upon a right literary 
 basis, not to reform society by means of ethics. As 
 the century went on, utilitarianism or Epicureanism 
 began to spread as a practical spirit, independently 
 of philosophy. In fact, Epicureanism in its best 
 form is less of a philosophy than most other ethical 
 schools ; by which I mean it has avowedly less 
 reverence for philosophical ideas, and appeals more 
 to common sense. Hence the practical utilitarian- 
 ism or Epicureanism which was then arising was 
 
HISTORY OP UTILITARIANISM. ^2 5 
 
 in some respects a feeling against philosophy al- 
 together. At this time then, say in the middle 
 of last century, old-fashioned philosophy was that 
 of natural law, new-fashioned philosophy was utili- 
 tarianism or Epicureanism of the emotional type. 
 Add to this, that the spirit of that age was a spirit 
 of unenthusiastic and rather dull desire of amend- 
 ment and change ; absence of much respect for the 
 old, hopefulness, but not much imaginativeness, as to 
 the future and new. But under this was rising up 
 another spirit of reform of a much more vigorous 
 nature which came to the surface about the end of 
 the century, and with it the utilitarianism which 
 Mr Mill defends. It generated, as such a spirit is 
 sure to do, a vigorous antagonist to itself in a spirit 
 of energetic conservatism. 
 
 In speaking of the conservative and reforming Meaning 
 character of one or another kind of philosophical terma'con- 
 teaching, though I use political language for con- ^^""^f^r' 
 venience, I mean it morally, in this manner. Through- forming' 
 out all the history of ethical philosophy, besides that uon^o ^°* 
 difference in moral teaching which arises from dif- ^gj^jj^g^ 
 ference of positive dogma, there is a vast difference 
 to be noted as to the spirit, showing itself primarily 
 in the difference of view as to the object and aim of 
 moral philosophy. If it is looked upon as a serious 
 thing, something which is to go to the bottom of 
 human nature, which is to give to man, not only 
 guards and restraints of his action, but also the prin- 
 ciples and initiative of it : if it has thus associated 
 with it some of that earnestness (very misdirected 
 perhaps) which more properly belongs to our notions 
 of religion : if, consequently, it considers its task in 
 relation to human feelings and society to be mainly 
 one of correction and regeneration ; — it has then 
 what I mean by a reforming character. If on the 
 
 15 
 
226 HISTORY OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 other hand, it looks upon itself as a sort of second 
 thought, a superaddition to, not a constituent of, 
 man's moral existence ; as useful, but what might be 
 done without ; as what no state of human society 
 could really owe its existence to, but as what must 
 recognize such state, amend and supervise it as it 
 can : if it contents itself, in the main, scientifically 
 with describing human society, and practically with 
 reinforcing and strengthening it ; — it has then what 
 I mean by a conservative character. 
 
 Of the two the former is in the notion of it the 
 better and nobler, and comes up more, I think, to 
 the true meaning of morality : but a morality of this 
 kind is as difficult and dangerous as it is in its 
 nature noble, and bad forms of it may have some- 
 thing about them altogether terrible. Moral philo- 
 sophy of the latter, or conservative, kind has often 
 little practical influence, and takes the form rather 
 of science or literature. 
 Thecha- Speaking generally, whatever may be the doc- 
 
 system in trines of an ethical system, the spirit of any particular 
 is notX.^* development of it may be either reforming (or if we 
 by thrna- ^^^^ ^^ ^^ ^^^^ ^^> aggrossivo) on the one side ; or it 
 tureofits may be conservative and acquiescent on the other. 
 though ' Still, particular philosophical doctrines may be in 
 trines have their nature more apt to encourage the one or the 
 a tendency other Spirit. Epicureauism, for instance, as to its doc- 
 
 to encou- , / -l ^ ' ^ \ ^ 
 
 rage the trino, IS moro akiu to the acquiescent spirit. It has 
 other had developments of a reforming or aggressive cha- 
 sprnt. racter, as in Lucretius, who preaches a kind of worship 
 of the founder of the sect almost as if it were a new 
 religion, and enthusiastically anticipates a regenera- 
 tion of human society on a basis of what we may call 
 an early secularism and positivism. But in a general 
 way, Epicureanism had the reputation, and with 
 justice, of being of a quiescent spirit. The occupation 
 
HISTORY OF UTILITARIANISM. 2 2/ 
 
 of a large space in the mind by the idea of happiness 
 is Hkely to generate the thought of enjoyment rather 
 than that of labour ; and a similar preponderance 
 of the idea of usefulness is not likely to generate 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 The Benthamic utilitarianism, to which I alluded Reforming 
 
 ... , . 1 f» J T. 1 i utilitarian- 
 
 as rising into importance at the end ot the last ism (Bea- 
 century, is on the one hand, in the prominence which *^^^' 
 it gives to the idea of happiness as compared with 
 the idea of duty, a reaction against the old ethics of 
 natural law ; and, on the other hand, in the positive- 
 ness, matter- of- fact-n ess, emphatic rationality, which it 
 professes, a reaction from the sentimental ethics, or the 
 emotional forms of the morality of happiness ; or, if 
 we like better, it is a recurrence to the older rational 
 and unsentimental ethics in so far as it looks on 
 ethics as moral legislation rather than as moral patho- 
 logy (if I may use the word), or a theory of moral 
 feeling; while at the same time, in place of the older 
 view that this legislation is to be an expansion and 
 development of the idea of duty, it fully adopts the 
 view that happiness is to be the sole end of such 
 legislation. It is full of the practical spirit of the 
 age, uniting however its contempt for the unpro- 
 ductiveness and vanity of past philosophy with an 
 unbounded confidence in the results of a better philo- 
 sophy ; and it is entirely without fear as to the risk 
 involved in its hoped for reconstruction of society. 
 
 .Contempofary with this was a good deal of other Revoiu- 
 philosophy which I suppose is to be called utili- HtTrSm 
 tarianism, but which differed in many respects from (^^^w^^)- 
 that of Bentham. The same determined reforming- 
 ness however, or, as it was considered by enemies, 
 revolutionariness, belongs to all. I mention this other 
 utilitarianism (Godwin may be taken as a type of 
 it), not with a view of involving the opinions of Ben- 
 
 15—2 
 
228 HISTORY OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 tham and those following him in any condemnation 
 which may belong to it, but because it is necessary 
 to have this philosophy in mind in order to under- 
 stand the great fear and opposition which the reform- 
 ing utilitarianism excited. 
 Conserva-, The Conservative utilitarianism of Paley is, in 
 
 tive utili- .... ^ ' 
 
 tarianism the Same manner as the utilitarianism of Benthara, 
 
 ^^^ ' a reaction against sentimentalism, an outgrowth of 
 
 the practical feeling of the age appealing to common 
 
 sense against philosophy, a concentration of all moral 
 
 thought on the idea of happiness, and an exhibition 
 
 of ethics as moral legislation, with very little notice 
 
 of feeling or character. Of course, as all are aware, 
 
 little as is the difference of principle or doctrine 
 
 between Paley and Bentham, the difference in spirit 
 
 is complete. 
 
 Paley less There can be no doubt, I think, that the ad- 
 consistent , i r • /» 1 •! 1 • • • il 
 
 than Ben- Vantage as to lairness oi philosophizmg is on the 
 IpXgisT s^d^ ^f Bentham. Paley's ethical or substantial con- 
 whiie servatism stands out the stronger upon the ground 
 
 seeming to . , . . , ... 
 
 be a judge, of his political or circumstantial liberality and open- 
 make out Hoss to viows of improvement. This is no reproach 
 his case. ^^ j^j^ . £^^ -^^ reality, considering the vast weight of 
 the interests involved in the stability of human 
 moral society, a man, it seems to me, need not be 
 ashamed to avow a prejudice in favour of conservatism 
 of this kind ; what is in possession has already one 
 great point and presumption in its favour. But it is 
 not right to disclaim all respect for the past or for 
 that which already exists, as such ; it is not right to 
 appear to be bringing it all to fair trial, and to be 
 establishing it on the proper grounds, and deducing 
 it from the true root, — and yet ideally to be acting 
 the part, not of an investigator, but of an apologist. 
 The real value of Paley's book is in showing how 
 the institutions of morality satisfy the conditions of 
 
HISTORY OF UTILITAUTANISJkf. 229 
 
 utility, which they do most thoroughly. In making 
 out, as he would, that utility alone suggested them, 
 and furnishes the reason for their continuance, he is 
 all in error. 
 
 One conclusion we may certainly draw from this Th® oppo- 
 
 (. .,. . . sition of 
 
 brief review of the history of utilitarianism ; what- Paiey and 
 ever may be its claims to our belief on other grounds, shows that 
 at any rate it does not furnish so unquestionable a ^^^^1""^^^' 
 test for settling: differences of opinion as some of its j^tiiitanan- 
 
 <-> ^ ism does 
 
 advocates w^ould make out. Nearly at the same not put an 
 time the mass of existing custom and feeling wasferenceof 
 examined with reference to this test by Paley and °p^^^°°* 
 by Bentham, and was reported by the former to be 
 in all its great points right, by the latter to be full of 
 wrong, and to need most extensive reformation. 
 
 Not to dwell longer on this however, I will now 
 proceed to examine some of the misapprehensions 
 of utilitarianism of which Mr Mill complains. 
 
 On first looking at these as they appear in his 
 pages, the reader will see at once that they concern, 
 some one form of it, some another ; and hence too 
 they are easily met as he meets them, by fixing on 
 some form of it (and he is most liberal in supposing 
 new forms) to which they do not apply. For in- 
 stance, I suppose that no one ever styled the 
 utilitarianism of Paley 'a godless doctrine,' which 
 is one charge against utilitarianism cited ^ 
 
 In a general way, the hard language against The early 
 utilitarianism fifty or sixty years ago was directed to ut^iiluri- 
 against its reforming or supposedly revolutionary on'the"^^^ 
 character. This character of the older utilitarianism ground of 
 should be remembered by those who read what Mr posed revo- 
 Mill says in the 33rd page: ^Defenders of utility IwS. 
 often find themselves called upon to reply to such ^H^^^l, 
 obiections as this : that there is not time, previous to*^^?"!^*^- 
 
 ^ * tananism, 
 
 ^ Ulil. p. 30. while it 
 
230 HISTORY OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 defends actioii, for calculatins: and weisrhins: the effects of 
 
 existing ^ O o 
 
 custom, any line of conduct on the general happiness/ The 
 it^noau^^ answer to which is, Hhat there has been ample time, 
 thority. namely, the whole past duration of the human 
 species. During all that time mankind have been 
 learning by experience the tendencies of actions.' 
 What was the degree of contempt of the reforming 
 utilitarians for the experience of past ages as em- 
 bodied in customs, institutions, and traditionary feel- 
 ings, we may judge from seeing how great it was 
 even in the conservative utilitarians, such as Paley. 
 Even in him every custom or institution has to put 
 in its utility as its justification ; its existence is never 
 allowed to be pleaded by it as a presumption of its 
 utility. Whether the argument is fairly conducted, 
 and whether such a presumption is ever tacitly 
 allowed to weigh, is not our business, which is with 
 the principles of utilitarianism, as showing them- 
 selves in arguments conducted upon them. In the 
 reforming utilitarianism it is clear that the negation 
 of any presumption of utility from existence is the 
 leading thought. 
 Mr Mill 'On any hypothesis,' says Mr Mill, 'short of 
 
 to^recog- universal idiocy, mankind must by this time have 
 thorityia ^cquircd positive beliefs as to the effects of some 
 existing actious upou their happiness : and the beliefs which 
 
 custom, ^ 1 i ' 
 
 but in so have thus come down are the rules of morality for 
 departs the multitude, and for the philosopher until he has 
 pXd^es succeeded in finding better.' If the study of the 
 of ut;iitari- past beliefs of mankind as to what makes their hap- 
 
 anism : . . . .... 
 
 piness IS one of the things which utilitarianism, as 
 modified by Mr Mill, is to take into itself; and if 
 authority in the question is allowed to these, utili- 
 tarianism gains indeed, and it is a most real gain, 
 in wideness and range of view ; just what it seems 
 to me moral philosophy wants. But then I do not 
 
HISTORY OF UTILITARIANISM. 23 1 
 
 see, when utilitarianism has got thus to face the 
 vast study of past human experience, what is to 
 become of the simpHcity and quasi- infallibility which 
 it certainly attributed to itself Bentham thought 
 he could systematize happiness on his own principles 
 in such a way as to render the study of men's positive 
 beliefs (for which he had not apparently much re- 
 spect) unnecessary. What he thought, so far as I 
 can understand, was just this, that he had found 
 something better than the past beliefs of mankind, 
 this better thing being the principle of utilitarianism. 
 Mr Mill is determined to vindicate for utilitarianism 
 contradictory merits. What I should consider, in 
 common with many others not calling themselves 
 utilitarians, is that human happiness is a difficult 
 thing to understand, and that, in order to know what 
 constitutes it, we must examine in history what man 
 has done and the customs and institutions which he 
 has formed for himself; of course a large and most 
 perplexing study. But if utilitarianism has the merit 
 of recognizing the value and interest of this, it must 
 not at the same time have the merit of being able 
 to give us a simple system of human happiness ready 
 to our hand, and to say. Here is a plain and certain 
 rule by which to regulate action. 
 
 Though however Mr Mill here, where it is and in fact 
 called for in order to answer an objection, mentions press Js Ma 
 positive beliefs with a respect which, if it had been IJ^^^i^^^' 
 shown by previous utilitarians, would probably have ^"^ real 
 
 , . T 1 1 . . . sympathies 
 
 obviated the objection ; he does not seem to me m being with 
 
 .i«i 1 'ji 1 1* the ref orm- 
 
 this place, so much as m others where he improves ing utiii- 
 upon the old utilitarianism, to be giving what is^anamsm. 
 really his own truer view. I judge from this. He 
 only meets the objection as it lies against the reform- 
 ing utilitarianism, not at all as it lies, which it does 
 just as much though from another point of view, 
 
232 HISTORY OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 against conservative utilitarianism. T conclude there- 
 fore that it is the former with which he identifies 
 himself; in other words, that the special charm of 
 utilitarianism to him is, not the simple fact of the 
 moral importance which it attributes to utility or 
 happiness, but the idea that by means of this a great 
 reform may be brought about in the beliefs and 
 customs and feelings of men. No one can think 
 that I attribute this to him as blame. In his desire, 
 if not in respect of the way in which it is to be 
 brought about, I strongly sympathize with him. 
 But, this being so, I am not inclined to think that 
 the respect for past human experience, and for posi- 
 tive beliefs, is a thing which he would himself care 
 to have joined with his utilitarianism in the same 
 way as (I am sure he would) those considerations of 
 sociality and sympathy to which I have already so 
 often alluded. 
 The new It is to be regretted that notwithstanding the 
 
 i8m,\hough really wide and catholic view which characterizes Mr 
 witha Mill's utilitarianism, it should be so intolerant in 
 wider ethi- spirit. I look upon this intolerance as a relic un- 
 retains the fortuuatoly prescrvcd of the reforming utilitarianism 
 spiriroT* when it woke up as a self-confident, exclusive, aggres- 
 theoid gjye doctrine, little carinof whom it offended, or, in 
 
 reforming , . 
 
 utilitarian- humblc language, whose toes it trod on, so long as it 
 pressed its way forward ; rather asserting itself the 
 more boldly against objections than qualifying itself 
 to meet them, and with no anxiety at all that all 
 men should speak well of it : all this too at a time, 
 three quarters of a century ago, when there was more 
 plain speaking on both sides than there is now — 
 when people were thoroughly in earnest — an interest- 
 ing time as all such must be. But the intolerance, 
 which was natural and excusable then, is surelv not 
 appropriate for a utilitarianism such as the present ; 
 
HISTORY OF UTILITARIANISM. 233 
 
 which might really almost be called a syncretism 
 rather than an independent system of philosophy, 
 showing itself more jealous of opponents than con- 
 fident in its own principles, and ready passively to 
 admit of any doctrine being incorporated with it pro- 
 vided that an objection may thereby be met. 
 
 That the cause of the original dislike to utili- The wei- 
 
 ... 1 1 • 1 come given 
 
 tariamsm was not so much any doctrme properly to the con- 
 belonging to it as its supposed revolutionary spirit, ulmtarian- 
 is shown by the fact that it was proposed to cure this ^^,5^1^01.^^ 
 by a homoeopathic treatment, driving out bad utili- to ^'^f re- 
 tarianism with good. In this way it was that so shows that 
 much value was set upon Paley and his writings, principle ^ 
 The feeling against utilitarianism itself, as being at j^*^^j[^^" 
 any rate an insufficient morality, and giving an in- dislike, 
 sufficient account of human nature, was one that 
 came later and was probably a good deal owing to 
 Coleridge. 
 
 Different forms of this suspicion maybe specified. After- 
 In the case of persons of imagination and feeling it feii under 
 may arise from the fear, not unfrequently justified, asTending 
 that utilitarians in their haste to map out human ^^ ^^."^^^ . 
 
 *■ the ideal of 
 
 happiness as an end of action, may take account only happiness, 
 of the coarser and lower elements of it, and may ing justice 
 omit those which are higher and more real, but less vofenceT 
 readily describable. In the case of the larsrer mass f^d neg- 
 
 •^ ^ 9 lecting 
 
 of men, whose tendency is more toward action than relative 
 imagination, it arises from the notion that utili- 
 tarianism does not sufficiently in its principles dis- 
 tinguish justice from benevolence. This is a suspicion 
 to wliich men are very much disposed, and to which 
 no doubt any moral teaching which brings out strong- 
 ly the importance of benevolence is mistakenly liable, 
 so that utilitarians may plead that it has been 
 directed against some precepts even of Christianity 
 itself. But against utilitarianism it really does lie, 
 
234 HISTORY OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 because on its principles it is not possible to give 
 what men will usually recognize as a sufficient ac- 
 count why we must be just before we are generous, 
 must pay our debts, for instance, before we relieve 
 a neighbour who is in greater need than our creditor 
 is. Akin to this suspicion is that which looks upon 
 utilitarianism as likely to pay too little regard to 
 what are commonly called relative duties. The satire, 
 of which some time ago utilitarianism was the object, 
 was perhaps more directed to this than to anything 
 else. We had stories of people robbing from their 
 parents or betraying their friends for the sake of 
 promoting some greater happiness of a greater 
 number of people, 
 above all But it is probable that the commonest suspicion 
 
 to lead ^o against utilitarianism arises from the idea that if 
 vaiuinTof a P^^plc are taught to value happiness so much, and 
 man's own are SO much occupied in determining the details of 
 and to the happiuoss, they will think so much of their own hap- 
 of"pubiir^ piness that they will fail in public spirit. And when 
 spint; ^YiQ utilitarian explains that it is not a man's own 
 happiness but the general happiness which should be 
 aimed at indiscriminately and impartially by each, 
 people may not perhaps disbelieve, but they are 
 puzzled as to what can be meant by this. Happiness 
 to each man is inevitably (till he has learnt to bridge 
 over the division) divided into two great parts, his 
 own and that of others ; it is a mere feature of indi- 
 viduality that this should be so ; and so far as these 
 parts present themselves distinctly to his view, we 
 have got to teach him to undervalue the one as a 
 condition to his sufficiently valuing the other ; and 
 no amount of pains spent in making the happiness 
 of others clear to his view will make him act for it 
 unless we can supersede in him, to such extent as 
 may be, the idea of acting for happiness as to him- 
 
HISTORY OF UTILITARIANISM. 235 
 
 self. Bentham thought that the existing moral 
 philosophy was unpractical, because it did not teach 
 sufficiently plainly what human happiness was, and 
 that, if this were effected, all that was needed was 
 done. But he was unpractical himself in thinking that 
 it would be done, and that the only reason why it had 
 not been done hitherto was because men had not 
 known what he thus told them. So far as moral 
 philosophy can help to supply what is needed, it must 
 investigate the mind of acting man as well as the 
 wants and pleasures of suffering and enjoying man : 
 we want, by the side of the philosophy of happiness, 
 a philosophy of self-conduct, self-command, self- 
 denial, self-forgetfulness ; and that, not as something 
 subsidiary to the other and for the end only of it, 
 but as something parallel with it and of equal im- 
 portance, a part or function of that same human 
 nature or human life, of which happiness itself is a 
 part or function. 
 
 It is I suppose a oreneral feelinsf that what is ^^^^ *^® 
 
 ^ J- ^ " exclusive 
 
 needed in respect of philanthropy, though to some importance 
 extent knowledge, is still more will, and that such philo- ascribed to 
 Sophies as by their principles are likely to strengthen ^sTpplsed 
 the will are more valuable, and therefore perhaps likely *° ^"^^^• 
 to be more true, than such as go rather only to add to 
 the knowledge. It is in this way that the principle 
 of asceticism, which may perhaps be considered the 
 exact antipodes of utilitarianism, has added indefi- 
 nitely to human happiness. The first thing which is 
 wanted in order to make people act with public spirit 
 is, not that they should think much of happiness, but 
 that they should set before them worthy purposes 
 which they wish to bring about; that they should feel 
 vividly wants which they see, and act accordingly. 
 The second thing wanted to make them act, not only 
 with public spirit, but with intelligent public spirit. 
 
236 HISTORY OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 is that they should think much of what happiness 
 
 consists in, or else, however well-intentioned their 
 
 action may be, it will be productive of little good 
 
 result. 
 
 utiiitari- The idea of selfishness in regard to utihtarianism 
 
 thersus"^ has bcou confuscd more or less with the idea of its 
 
 morailty^of ^^^^o a morality of calculation^ an idea which, 
 
 caicuia- whether rightly or wronorly has excited much dis- 
 
 tion,taking r» • t • • i i 
 
 no account tasto for it. It IS Singular that there should be in 
 thyf™^^" men's minds this distrust of human reason in relation 
 to morality, amounting almost to a suspicion that 
 coolness and deliberation must somehow really mean 
 selfishness. The explanation is that people cannot 
 conceive of philanthropy apart from feeling: when 
 therefore reason, as applied to philanthropy, proposes 
 itself not as the director, corrector, accompaniment 
 of such feeling, but as itself prescribing from prin- 
 ciples of its own the particulars of what is to be done ; 
 this apparent disregard of sympathy, as a means of 
 estimating the happiness of others, makes it feared 
 that such a philosophy will give so little encourage- 
 ment to sympathy that the happiness of others will 
 never be really thought of at all. And no doubt 
 it is possible that injury may be done to a man as 
 a moral agent by making his objective duty too 
 definite and clear as a matter of reason before him, 
 if in the course of doing it we weaken his respect for 
 those dispositions of his mind which on the whole are 
 what lead him towards right, teaching him to dis- 
 trust these because they often overshoot their mark 
 or err from it. This applies not to utilitarianism 
 alone, but to all kinds of moral philosophy which aim 
 at definitely fixing what is man's proper conduct, 
 whether tliey do this by determining duties, or by 
 requiring reason to be given for conduct and feel- 
 ings in terms of utility. 
 
HISTORY OF UTILITARIANISM. 237 
 
 Another reason for the jealousy with which the and deiay- 
 ' morality of calculation' has been regarded, is the tm^Vrrc- 
 notion that action would have to be postponed until \l^^lll 
 there had been full investisration of all its possible. This objec 
 results. And this is so plainly undesirable and im- removed by 
 practicable that the good faith of the calculators ortrpfsrex- 
 investigators is to a certain degree suspected. We [^ere"i?" 
 have seen that Mr Mill answers this objection by need of a 
 
 IT present 
 
 saying that the calculation has been already per- authorita- 
 formed for us by past generations of men, and that ^^^ ^""^ ®* 
 he as an utilitarian is ready to accept the verdict of 
 their experience as embodied in existing customs and 
 beliefs. But no morality can go by these alone. It 
 is the business of every morality more or less to test 
 and correct them. Moreover in regard to many 
 actions, if appealed to, they will answer nothing. 
 Independently of them therefore, it is urged, there is 
 wanted a guide, and the morality of consequences is 
 not a trustworthy guide. Men want something to 
 decide what their action should be, not only more 
 rapidly, but with more authority, with more deciding 
 force, than would result from the sort of approximate 
 conclusion, which is all that the reckoning of the 
 consequences could furnish them with. They feel 
 that duty and virtue present themselves in quite 
 another form from that in which they would be pre- 
 sented by the mere reckoning of consequences. And 
 it is because utilitarianism, even when conservative, 
 scarcely takes account of any other than this latter 
 form that they are not satisfied with it. 
 
 In thinking of the .history of moral philosophy, The history 
 we are rather inclined to forget to how great a degree, pMro^ophy 
 especially in more recent times, moral philosophy is j^^.^*^' ^^^f^^ 
 embodied in religion. If we do not keep this in ethical 
 mind, but look at the history of moral philosophy thanin'the 
 
238 HISTORY OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 general onlv as it is Contained in avowedly ethical treatises, 
 
 thought of , , . "^ . 
 
 the time, the historj can never be to us more than a matter 
 on^rei^ion. ^^ literature ; and the point of much the greatest 
 consequence about it, which is, the relation of the 
 ethics of any period to the general thought of that 
 period, is a matter which we shall not be in a condi- 
 tion to speak of. 
 Relation Utihtariauism, as a philanthropic, that is, in fact, 
 
 utiHtlrian- ^ Christian Epicureanism, presented an aspect to 
 reUgbn of ^^^^g^^^f ^s it was most habitually viewed in the 
 the time, last ccutury, by no means unpleasing : there is 
 often a jealousy, on the part of religion, of the 
 more aspiring doctrines of moral philosophy, such as 
 Platonism and Stoicism, as tending to provide a sort 
 of religion of their own, which is not in general likely 
 to be felt as to utilitarianism. Thus it came to pass 
 that rehgion at that time dealt with utilitarianism 
 very much as, contemporaneously, the old French 
 regime did with the spirit of reform : delighted in it 
 in its moderation, quite unprepared for the vehement 
 outbreak of it which was to arise. In its state of 
 excitement utilitarianism showed itself as capable 
 of developing ideas of enthusiasm and of a sort of 
 religion of its own as any kind of philosophy could be. 
 Its estrangement from religion was partly owing to 
 this, and partly owing to the deeper spirit which on 
 the other hand began to take possession of religion. 
 General The general relation of the ethics of utilitarianism 
 
 utiutaSan-to the ethics of Christianity is a subject of much 
 cS-iltian- importance, which has been touched on by Mr Mill 
 %• in a passage where he expresses himself to the 
 
 effect that the gospel breathes in its purest form the 
 spirit of the ethics of utiHty\ That this account 
 leaves at any rate some room for misconception will, 
 I think, appear from the following considerations. 
 
 * Util. p. 24. 
 
HISTORY OF UTILITARIANISM. 239 
 
 Utilitarianism, i. e, the modern and practical utili- 
 tarianism, is properly a philanthropic Epicureanism. 
 It is a common-sense philosophy as Epicureanism 
 was ; in other words, it is to a certain extent a 
 negation of philosophy ; and besides this (though far 
 from being a negation of morality in its practical 
 character) it is very much a negation of moral 
 thought. The understanding of human feeling is a 
 complicated problem, which men in the various philo- 
 sophies of the last century set themselves to solve 
 in one way or another ; and as against all this, 
 utilitarianism introduced for moral philosophy a 
 simply methodical benevolence. Viewed in this light, 
 utilitarianism may be called a philanthropic system 
 of action for happiness ; and as this description would 
 not badly suit Christianity itself, it may be thought 
 that Mr Mill is justified in claiming the authority of 
 Christianity for the ethics of utility. 
 
 But there is this srreat difference between them, of t^® two 
 In practical utilitarianism, as in Christianity, there recognized 
 are the two elements, philanthropy (or love of our (love^ofiur 
 neighbour), and value for, thought of, action for, ^|^^j^^ 
 happiness : and in the best practical utilitarians, as for happi- 
 in the best Christians, I have full belief that the litariknism 
 former element is most active and powerful : were thTiatter^ 
 it not so, I do not think utilitarianism would ever be ohristian- 
 
 . . . ity irora 
 
 aggressive and enthusiastic. But what makes the the former, 
 real distinction between them is that, while each 
 recognizes both of the above-mentioned elements, 
 utilitarianism chooses to build itself (philosophically) 
 upon the latter element; to take that as its prin- 
 ciple; to call itself the morality of happiness; to 
 deduce itself from Epicureanism, not from any- 
 thing like Christianity; to define right action as 
 action promotive of happiness, and only by degrees, 
 as we see Mr Mill does in these papers, to intro- 
 
240 HISTORY OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 duce these considerations of philanthropy, which in 
 practice, as I have no wish to deny, it takes fully 
 into account. But this mistake as to the foundation 
 injures it all through ; for it starts from that which 
 is the wrong side for getting the action done. Chris- 
 tianity, on the contrary, starts from the right side. 
 Philanthropy, or the love of our neighbour, will pro- 
 duce action for the general happiness, but knowledge, 
 the most thorough, of what it is that makes the 
 general happiness, will oiot produce philanthropy. 
 "When we put together the two elements of love to 
 men, and right judgment about, and value for, hap- 
 piness, as both Christianity and utilitarianism do, we 
 must remember that the moral and fruitful principle 
 is not the right judgment about happiness, important 
 as that is, but is the love for men. 
 Thephiian- Moro than this: if the Gospel had not existed, 
 ractS^of * I do not think the modern and practical utilitari- 
 utmtlS- ai^ism would. Not that it would not have sug- 
 anisra gestcd itsclf ; for to suppose that the Gospel was 
 Christiani- needed to inform men that it was good to love 
 the autho- their neighbour is absurd ; but without the general 
 latterVan^- ^^^^^^^0 upon humau fecHng which the Gospel has 
 not be had, I do not think that the new Epicureanism 
 utilitarian- would havo associatod itself so intimately, so im- 
 than^or mediately, so as a matter of course, with philan- 
 ca^Ts^^^' thropy as it did, and as it is evident that^ general 
 terns. human feeling required it to do, on pain of not even 
 being considered morality at all. Christianity breathes 
 the spirit of the ethics of utility, as it does the spirit 
 of all other ethics, to the extent of their truth ; not 
 in the least in contradistinction to the spirit of other 
 ethics. In practice, Christianity has been the nurse 
 not only of benevolence, of meekness, and peaceable- 
 ness, but of every variety of elevated character and 
 generous action : it has strung up the fibres of man's 
 
HISTORY OF UTILITARIANISM. 24 1 
 
 moral being to every form of virtue, as well as 
 guided him in each part of justice. * Render to all 
 their dues/ is as cardinal a principle of it as ' Love 
 your neighbour.' 
 
 We see then that utilitarianism, though an off- 
 shoot, and in its better forms a most worthy off- 
 shoot, of Christianity, is far from coming up to Mr 
 Mill's claim for it to represent the whole of Christian 
 ethics. Nor again can it be considered to be in any 
 exclusive sense the ethics of practical philanthropy. 
 Of this I have already spoken a little, but will defer 
 the fuller consideration of it to another chapter. 
 
 16 
 
CHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 ON THE PRACTICAL CHARACTER OF UTILITARIANISM, OR 
 ITS RELATION TO WHAT IS NEEDED FROM MORAL 
 PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 I PROCEED now to the consideration of the practical 
 position and value of utilitarianism at this time ; 
 how far it is the quarter to which we should look for 
 the moral improvement of individuals and societies, 
 utiiitari- J havc already alluded to what we may call the 
 
 welcomed philosophj of non-philosophy \ springing from that 
 alTr'^rdy disHkc and weariness of complicated and refined 
 Tttili^ ^rid ^^^soning which is perhaps more likely to arise in 
 of phiioso- this age of the world than formerly, owing to the 
 cuities: apparent resultlessness and inconclusiveness of all 
 the philosophy which there has been hitherto. I 
 have mentioned that utilitarianism has had an at- 
 traction for feeling of this kind, and that it has 
 itself at times taken something of this character. 
 This attraction and mixture is likely to continue. 
 Moral philosophy would, in this point of view, be- 
 come a science very similar in form and method 
 to political economy ; or, if we like .better, ethics 
 would much resemble economics. We might have 
 a classical book written on 'The Happiness of 
 Societies:' in which the nature of this happiness 
 should be explained, the value of actions examined 
 
 ^ See above, pp. 224, 239. So Ferrier complains of Reidfor making 
 * friends of the mammon of unphilosophy.* Institutes, p. 484. Ed. 
 
PRACTICAL CHARACTER OF UTILITARIANISM. 243 
 
 as more or less contributory to it, and the whole 
 methodized and systematized. 
 
 This idea, which might be all we could wish for 
 morals, is nevertheless almost certain to be WTong in 
 any form in which it can be put forward, for this 
 reason; because it is pretty sure to be put forward as 
 a short and easy method of proceeding, as something 
 which may enable us to do without philosophy. It 
 is supposed that happiness is a very easy and simple 
 thing to understand and exhibit, something which 
 need not require all the talking which has made 
 philosophy hitherto. It is clear that the utilitarian 
 principle commended itself to Bentham's mind quite 
 as much from its being a principle so readily solving 
 all moral difficulties, as it did in the apparent cha- 
 racter of a principle self- evidently true and excellent. 
 And many approaching the subject from quite an 
 opposite direction have thought like him in this 
 respect. 
 
 This view however of utilitarianism, while com- but this 
 mending it to some, will have the opposite effect piolested 
 on others, to whom it will appear in consequence f^l^^orJ^^ 
 low and narrow-minded: and some of the obi ect ions p^^^^^^p^" 
 
 " cal adhe- 
 
 made against it, and met by Mr Mill, are made in rents, as 
 this view of it, and are met, in fact, by the saying ^ ^ ' ' 
 that this view does not necessarily belong to it. 
 It is only the older utilitarianism (which Mr Mill 
 defends), and not at all the newer utilitarianism 
 (which he holds), which has any sympathy with this 
 non-philosophical spirit : and though he might seem 
 to have a certain sympathy with the method of 
 positivism, it does not seem to have any attraction 
 for him in its character of a negation of philosophy. 
 
 The kind of practical spirit which is intolerant impatience 
 of philosophy, and which some Englishmen are apt°8itseif° 
 to vindicate to themselves and their country as an cr/'/reflis- 
 
 16—2 
 
244 PRACTICAL CHARACTER OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 ing the aid honoui to it, is a spirit which Mr Mill himself has in 
 
 of thought, . , , , 1 • 1 Ti • 1*1 
 
 common various placGS protested against, it is certainly a 
 comes^the ^^U fooHsh Spirit. The really practical spirit, the 
 victim of spirit which is anxious to see work done, must first 
 
 dreams. in • i i i 
 
 and foremost be large-minded and tolerant ; must 
 allow to each thing its merit in its place. A hasty 
 and professed practicalness is the most unpractical of 
 all things, and readily allies itself with wild dreams 
 of imagination; so that not unfrequently that which 
 piques itself on being common sense as against phi- 
 losophy, only changes thought for a weak and poor 
 dream. Common sense, we may say, is never able 
 to be content with itself: it is almost certain to in- 
 corporate with itself bad philosophy while it protests 
 against any. And the supposition that the work of 
 the w^orld is likely to be best done by refusing to 
 think, and to think deeply if need be, through the 
 agency of a supposed common sense, is a supposition 
 so foolish (considering the complication of human 
 life and the variety of human character), that it pre- 
 vents any hope at least from the common sense of those 
 who make it. Ethical philosophy is neither more nor 
 less than the thought here mentioned, thought of 
 man about his life, his character, and his work. 
 This is a thing which there always has been, and 
 alwa^/s must be. Moral philosophy has been the 
 effort to methodize and to systematize it. And if 
 there is one error more than another to which moral 
 philosophy has been liable from the first, it is that it 
 has not been sufiiciently true to itself, and has not 
 sufficiently acknowledged the necessity and import- 
 ance of much thought of this kind. The partial 
 systeniatization, the exhibition, time after time, of a 
 portion, or of one feature, of human nature as the 
 whole of it, has resulted from a sort of feeling within 
 moral philosophy similar to that which outside of it 
 
PRACTICAL CHARACTER OF UTILITARIANISM. 245 
 
 has condemned philosophy altogether, a feeling that 
 there should be as little call for thought as possible, 
 that everything should be ready, simple, and imme- 
 diate. 
 
 As soon as we get out of the region of physical The infi- 
 thought, the variety of human estimate or feeling rietVolf 
 makes itself observed; and as it is one of the things ^^d'humau 
 which moral philosophy must take most account of, character 
 SO it is a thing which very much concerns the idea of any system 
 moral philosophy itself To give an instance : that Jeslls to^^ 
 which to Bentham and Paley was evidently a main ah!??rand 
 inducement to make them believe the utilitarian phi- ff-^y f^- 
 
 ^ . thod for 
 
 losophy to be true, the simplicity and apparent readi- determin- 
 ness of its application, would with me have an effect Lction."^^ 
 quite opposite. Life and society seem to me things 
 so complicated, character a thing so various, that 
 any supposition of people acting uniformly upon one 
 motive, whatever it is, or of there being any infallible 
 and single way (setting aside what may be told us by 
 revelation) by which they may at once know what 
 they should do, is to me the very strongest presump- 
 tion, not of the truth, but of the falsehood, of any 
 theory of which it forms a part. It is in the same 
 way we might speak about happiness. I might, in a 
 sense, accept the view of moral philosophy which I 
 have supposed above, which would make Hhe Happi- 
 ness of Societies' the object of it, in the same way in 
 which *the Wealth of Nations' is the object of politi- 
 cal economy. But I should certainly not accept it 
 from any one who brought this view to me as one 
 which would at once make moral philosophy a clear 
 and methodical science, and remove all the difficulty 
 which there has been about it hitherto. I should 
 know at once that he must have a very faulty con- 
 ception of human happiness, since he could con- 
 ceive it possible that in finding and mapping it out 
 
246 PRACTICAL CHARACTER OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 tlie same difficulties would not have to be encoun- 
 tered which belong to all considerations about human 
 life and character. I should fear lest my idea of 
 happiness might differ from his as much as our ideas 
 differed on the subject of what is, or is not, pre- 
 sumption of truth. And the notion that in this 
 way we were getting out of the difficulties of moral 
 philosophy would seem to me like the delusion of 
 a man who fancied he was getting out of embarrass- 
 ments by changing the name and form of his obli- 
 gations. 
 utmtari- Utilitarianism then, it seems to me, in view of the 
 
 be of real futurc, may be of real practical value to us, if, 
 lading to instead of professing to make the way of morals 
 kXe of^ easier than before (which is only, so far as it goes, a 
 what hap- presumption against it), it devotes itself to the 
 sistsin: thorough study of human happiness in its nature 
 study of ^nd its constituents, so as to give help in one im- 
 iTcom T- P^^^^^ii^ branch of our action. For that in all at- 
 cated, and tcmpts to procurc happiuess, whether for ourselves 
 at once or fof othcrs, there is a great deal of helplessness 
 ruWor ^^d mistake, I think there can be no doubt. But 
 practice, ^j^^g jg QUO thing Only in moral philosophy. There 
 are others which must be attended to as well, or this 
 by itself will lead to error. It is no new study, but 
 one which men have always, un systematically, been 
 studying. But they have studied it in connexion 
 with other things, and so it must be studied now; 
 or else happiness, with even the best morally prac- 
 tical notions, if it is to be made distinct enough to 
 act for, will be brought down from that lofty but 
 somewhat vague ideal, in which character alone it is 
 the proper end of all our action, to a something more 
 tangible, in fact to mere pleasure. And this is an 
 evil not merely from the degrading of human nature, 
 so far as that may go, but from the utter futility and 
 
PRACTICAL CHARACTER OP UTILITARIANISM. 247 
 
 inapplicability of the notion, even in the region of 
 common sense. Happiness, vaguely meant, may be 
 said to be the same for all, but pleasure is not. A 
 happiness generalized out of ordinary pleasures, and 
 inflicted by a Benthamic despotism on all, as what 
 they are to direct their lives to procure in equal 
 measures for themselves and for each other, would 
 constitute a tyranny the little finger of which would 
 be thicker and heavier than the loins of duty or 
 asceticism. 
 
 The study of the constituents of human happiness Schemes in 
 will not be practically useful and fruitful, if it is too pine^ss is*^' 
 large and prominent a part of moral philosophy, if tempkteT 
 too much is made to depend upon it, and if conclu- ^J^^'^ *°j^<^^- 
 sions from it are made to regulate our action too causes of 
 simply and barely. There is far less happiness in the th^best 
 world now than one could wish there were: and in^^ppSfsa. 
 this respect the philanthropist's view is a sad one. 
 But I much question whether, if we compare the 
 actual state as to this with any scheme of happiness 
 on earth which has ever been thought of as an ideal 
 to act for and aim at, there is not as much happiness 
 now as there would be on such a scheme. I think 
 that any such scheme must bear to the present com- 
 plicated state of things something of the relation 
 which a communistic settlement or jphalansUre of any 
 kind bears to an ordinary settlement of human beings 
 as they live now. I do not think in general that all 
 the abundance to eat and drink, all the quiet and 
 absence of fear, all the comparative freedom from pain 
 and sickness which there is in the former, would in 
 the general way compensate, as to happiness, for the 
 want of interest and of that endless calling forth of 
 feeling which is excited in our present state by the 
 variety of circumstance and of character. As the 
 communistic settlement would tend to destroy the 
 
248 PRACTICAL CHARACTER OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 variety, not only picturesque, but infinitely beloved, 
 of bomes however bumble, so tbe ideal bappiness 
 would tend to merge tbe individualities of feeling 
 wbicb really not only make mucb of tbe interest, but 
 of tbe actual bappiness, of life. 
 
 Tbougb I do not tberefore deny tbat it may be 
 possible, ideally, to pluck up tbe tares of buman 
 trouble witbout rooting out witb tbem tbe wbeat of 
 real buman bappiness, I tbink it requires a very large 
 view of bappiness indeed for anything like tbis; a 
 view wbicb sball in reality involve attention to vari- 
 ous other things besides bappiness, and which shall 
 at once preclude the summary use of tbe idea of 
 happiness as a ready method of finding our duty. 
 There are It appears then that utilitarianism is far from 
 Jhlch hm- providing a complete remedy for the helplessness 
 promotion ^^ ignoraucc which has been mentioned as one of 
 of happi- ij^Q chief obstacles to tbe promotion of tbe general 
 
 ness, VIZ. . i i i • • ii i 
 
 ignorance happmcss. It Can ouly remedy this partially, De- 
 position: cause the action which it recommends (owing to 
 i^s^m Iffo^ds ^^^ incomplete view of human nature) will constantly 
 a partial ]jq not SO rcallv promotivc of human happiness as 
 
 remedy for ■, . -, i • • 
 
 the one: the Simpler and more unconscious action suggested 
 by our natural sensibilities. The other obstacle 
 which has been mentioned, namely indisposition or 
 the want of kindly feeling, it will scarcely remedy 
 at all: it is the other kinds of ethical philosophy, 
 which utilitarianism despises, tbat really are occu- 
 pied witb tbe causes of this, and will do what can be 
 done to remedy it. That such is the case will be 
 apparent from the following considerations. 
 other a Spcakiug generally, it may be said that the in- 
 
 mlTsl be crease of public spirit and unselfishness is what all 
 Iroml dif- nioral systems alike wish for and aim at. The special 
 feient kind doctrinc of utiUtariaiiism, from this point of view, is 
 pby. tbat people should think more about actions (or laws) 
 
PRACTICAL CHARACTER OF UTILITARIANISM. 249 
 
 being fruitful for happiness, whosesoever it is: the 
 special doctrines of other philosophies, by which they 
 would aim at the same result, are, that men should 
 prefer worthy and honourable action to enjoyment, 
 that they should be most careful in doing their 
 utmost to satisfy every claim upon them and being 
 faithful to every trust, that they should identify 
 the feelings of others with their own by sym- 
 pathy, &c. 
 
 Now, for the making men public- spirited and 
 unselfish, do we think that the utilitarian contribu- 
 tion, which is, carefulness on the part of men that 
 none of their actions should be wasted, but that all 
 should produce some happiness of somebody, will 
 do more for us than the contributions of those other 
 philosophies, which will increase the feeling of 
 honour, will increase the feeling of sympathy, will 
 increase regard to mutual duty? 
 
 I think we may try this question in a practical ?^^[^g^°^g 
 way by considering the case of association in the of commu- 
 way 01 communism, socialism, or any intimate kind ciations. 
 of partnership which tends to supersede individual fhem^giod, 
 independence in respect of property. Mr Mill looks ^^^^l 
 forward to improved organization of societv in these f^r their 
 
 . " establish- 
 
 respects as likely to produce a great increase of ment? 
 pubHc spirit and unselfishness'. (On this I will 
 speak in a future chapter'^) Others, again, consider 
 the matter rather the other way ; that though these 
 things may be good, yet human nature is not such 
 that they are to any great extent practicable. Lei 
 us suppose them good, and let us suppose that if 
 they did to any great extent exist, they would much 
 
 ^ Util. 19— 21, 46, 47. Compare also the chapters on Property, 
 and on the Probable future of the labouring classes, in the Principles of 
 Political Economy, Ed. 
 
 ^ See below, ch. xx. 
 
250 PRACTICAL CHARACTER OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 elevate the morality of human nature: what then 
 is needed for, and what hinders, their establishment? 
 Mr Mill, anticipating with the spread of utihtarian- 
 ism much increase of organization of this kind, sup- 
 posed good and productive of good, must consider 
 that what is most needed in order to its arising is 
 more thought, on the part of people in general, 
 about happiness, more value for it, and more know- 
 ledge of what it really consists in. Now, as a prac- 
 tical fact in the present what I believe renders at- 
 tempts of this kind less successful than those who 
 make them would wish, is not any want of value 
 for happiness or want of thought about happiness, 
 but rather a deficiency in such feelings as those of 
 honour and mutual confidence, without a large mea- 
 sure of which no organization of this kind can subsist. 
 Utilitarianism must borrow something of the jxeyaXo- 
 xjjvx^oL of the ancient philosophy, and other feelings 
 which it is its tendency to deride, if the results 
 which it vainly claims to be able to bring about 
 itself are really to be accomplished. 
 Such asso- Again, as a practical fact in the past, organiza- 
 pastTimes tious, whcthcr real or imaginary, which have involved 
 e^tlburhed ^^® community of property, and have thus helped 
 on the unselfishness, have, I think, relied more on the 
 tarian or anti-utilitariau principle of despising happiness than 
 principle. ^^ *^® utilitarian principle of highly valuing it. 
 The communistic association of rulers which Plato 
 sets at the head of his ideal republic is expressly 
 described as organized not with a view to the hap- 
 piness of the individuals of it, but to that of the 
 whole body of which they were the rulers: what 
 thej/ are described as valuing is reason, virtue^ jus- 
 tice : with the mass, their looking solely, as is repre- 
 sented to be their character, to the desirable or to 
 happiness is considered to incapacitate them for any 
 
PRACTICAL CHARACTER OF UTILITAKTAKISM. 
 
 such organization, instead of qualifying them fo§\^ 
 it according to the utilitarian supposition. 
 
 So in the early Christian Church, (and the same, 
 in a less degree, has probably been the case on other 
 occasions of special freshness of the religious feeling), 
 community of property was possible as long as, in 
 the fervour of their first enthusiasm, people thought 
 little about earthly happiness; but became impos- 
 sible as soon as they began to have leisure to think 
 more about it. And since then, it has been asceti- 
 cism, not value for happiness, which has been the 
 most fruitful mother of this kind of unselfishness. 
 
 I think we may say then that, not only is the 
 morality of public spirit and unselfishness no part of 
 utilitarianism, but it is not in any particular manner 
 aided by it. 
 
 Mr Mill indeed claims for utilitarianism theMrMiii, 
 power to reform human nature by increasing the anticipates 
 strength of the social affections; but in speaking f^f^^^^^^ 
 of this reformation (and in very beautiful lanfiruage from utiu- 
 
 . . ., n tananism; 
 
 he does speak of it, as in p. 49), ne really casts but his re- 
 himself loose, not only from the narrow utilitarianism a^'oXTn^s 
 of his predecessors, but from anything that can by ^f^J^^^^fi^g 
 any possibility be called utilitarianism, and from utilitarian 
 the utilitarian principle or philosophy altogether, phy.'^^'so^ 
 He seems almost to have forgotten that he has farnlst"" ^ 
 defined utihtarianism as the philosophy which values P^'If^^^^J'^" 
 one thing simply in regard of actions, viz. their connexion 
 promotiveness of happiness, and that the moral pro- professed 
 blem with utilitarians is thus Hmited to the dis- '^°°^'^^^- 
 tinguishing between actions which are, and actions 
 which are not, conducive to happiness. Forget- 
 ting this apparently, when he is describing moral 
 improvement, (which, in the utilitarian view, should 
 be simply an increased knowledge of, and value for, 
 happiness), he places it in 'the generation in each 
 
252 PRACTICAL CHARACTER OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 individual of a feeling of unity with all tlie rest/ 
 This is most undoubtedly moral improvement, and 
 a very noble description of it: but what has it to 
 do with utilitarianism? Does not such a description 
 of moral improvement show convincingly that how- 
 ever Mr Mill may seek to persuade others that utili- 
 tarianism is right (the principle of which is that the 
 goodness of an action consists in its conduciveness 
 to happiness rather than to unhappiness), he himself 
 considers that its goodness consists in conduciveness 
 to the general, rather than to our own particular, 
 happiness; — a doctrine which is in no respect con- 
 nected with any utilitarian principle, and belongs 
 much more to quite different schools ? So the noble 
 philanthropy which made Bentham devote his life 
 to an examination of the particulars of human hap- 
 piness and the ways in which such happiness might 
 best be promoted, and which led him, judging of 
 others by himself, to consider that nothing more was 
 wanted in order to make men act for the happiness of 
 others than that they should be rightly informed what 
 that happiness was, — this, as I have said before, is 
 something quite alien from the utilitarianism which he 
 would teach : the foundation and the superstructure 
 belong to different kinds of feeling. So far as utili- 
 tarianism teaches us the old doctrine of the excel- 
 lence of public spirit and unselfishness, let it be 
 listened to indeed ; but it is strange to find it teach- 
 ing thus in substance only what all ethical systems 
 teach, and yet at the same time giving itself out as 
 some new thing, full of anger at being misunderstood 
 and persecuted, yet confident in its power to reform 
 all ethics. 
 Public Mr MilP seems, if I do not mistake him, to 
 
 vario;isiy look forward to a time when the recognition of the 
 
 1 Util p. 45. 
 
PRACTICAL CHARACTER OF UTILITARIANISM. 253 
 
 general happiness as the ethical standard will bring involved 
 about a sort of revolutionary consummation in moral ticuiar*'" 
 thought. The following considerations may lead us ^jj-tady 
 to doubt whether such a consummation is either lecognized 
 possible or desirable. Since man is a free and most ethical 
 fallible agent, and can apparently only arrive at ^ '^ ^ * 
 truth and right (so far as he does arrive at them) 
 after long effort and much mistake, we need not 
 take the manner in which he has organized himself 
 into society as what must rule the manner in 
 which he is to do so for all ages : but we must 
 take it as illustrating his natural sentiment ; for in 
 what other way can we come to be aware of this 
 natural sentiment, as being general ? Now so far as 
 in the indistinctness of human thought there has 
 been any widely recognized ethical standard, man 
 has always considered that public- spirited action, so 
 to call it, is what he ought to practise, while selfish 
 action (with many brilliant exceptions) is what he 
 is most inclined to practise. But this public- spirited 
 action is in his view a very complicated thing, in- 
 volved with all sorts of particular duty, and the 
 limits between it and selfishness are very indefinite ; 
 for instance, attachment to family is in some points 
 of view selfish, in others not. It is possible that the it may 
 introduction of the idea of the general happiness, and fmprovld^ 
 the getting it distinctly into view, may be of great afg^Jnct re- 
 value in improving the character of this public spirit, c^giiition 
 and in freeing it from narrow-mindedness. But the ness: but 
 definite mutual duty which is the basis of this public meai!t to 
 spirit, and of which it is an extension, must never be ^he dd re- 
 dissolved away into a sfeneral duty to mankind : nor s^^^ ^^^ 
 
 , T p 11' 1- 1 particular 
 
 must the morality 01 general happiness claim to be duty, no- 
 founded on natural sentiment unless it takes with it gaiufd? 
 that which belongs to the natural sentiment, namely, 
 particularity as well as generality, and the arriving 
 
254 PRACTICAL CHARACTER OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 at the idea of wishing for the happiness of all by 
 extending that of wishing for the happiness of one 
 another. 
 Which Now when Mr Mill uses the words ' when once 
 
 Mr Mill the general ' happiness is recognised as the ethical 
 L^no^'^''' standard; I feel it difficult to make out how far 
 clear. utilitarianism in his eyes commends itself as an 
 effort, such as men have always been making, to im- 
 prove the old sociality, an effort profiting by the 
 experience of the past ; or how far on the other side 
 'the recognition of the general happiness as the ethical 
 standard ' is to be considered a new and regenerating 
 principle different from that recognition which human 
 sociality has made hitherto, being in fact a recogni- 
 tion of the general happiness as what gives reason 
 to the particular duties, so that independently of it 
 they have no value or stringency. This latter is 
 the view of utilitarianism which, as I said in a 
 former chapter, causes it to be looked on by many 
 with dislike ^ 
 TheEpicu- Whichever of these may be Mr Mill's view, it is 
 ulmtarian- ^igbly probablo that much of good may result from 
 consistent ^^^ cfforts at moral reform ; and I have no sympathy 
 with its with any attempts which may have been made to 
 spirit: discourago utilitarianism in what it does in this 
 latter wm dircction. But its philosophy is wrong one way or 
 °°*j^*° other. Its Janus faces, of the old Epicureanism on 
 provement the ouc sidc, to which the idea of the regeneration 
 notconsi- of humau socicty was about the last which would 
 existing ^^^^ suggested itself; and on the other, of the new, 
 relations of earnest, almost enthusiastic feelinof of what may be 
 
 liie more , . . . '^. 
 
 patiently, douc by associatiou and better education, make it a 
 difficult matter to say which way it is wrong : it is 
 hard to seize the guiding thread of it. But we may 
 say as much as this. Though the world may be, as 
 
 See above, p. 234. 
 
PRACTICAL CHARACTER OF UTILITARIANISM. 255 
 
 Mr Mill thinks (and I rejoice that he thinks so) still 
 young, and we living in a comparatively early state 
 of human advancement^, yet the great features of 
 morality I suppose we must take as known and given : 
 a new morality would therefore be immorality. 
 Utilitarianism therefore is wrong if it aims at this. 
 If, on the other hand, it aims to better the old, it must 
 take more fair account of what the old is. It must 
 be willinof to learn from human nature more than it 
 seems inclined to do, before it can properly teach. 
 It must not mix up all the many relations and pur- 
 poses in man's complicated life in one vague and 
 general idea of an universal aiming at happiness. 
 
 Let us grant, if we like, all the positive (if weWemay 
 may call them so) and practical efforts of utilitarian- thrpracti- 
 ism to be right; let us consider that Bentham's Jfj^^^"^^^^^; 
 laborious efforts to show people in what their happi- ^y.^tiii- 
 
 .. n .. tanans, 
 
 ness lay, and the best provisions for securing it, were without 
 so much gain to human practical knowledge ; and thrutm-^ 
 that the attempts to give more of a feeling of com- Jogop'Jiy.^^' 
 m unity to men, to make people associate together 
 more and better, and more feel themselves one and 
 brethren, from which Mr Mill anticipates so much, 
 will really have good effect. No distinctive philo- 
 sophy is necessarily concerned with this. All philo- 
 sophies aim at making men happy and social, what- 
 ever they may aim at besides. When Mr Mill 
 speaks about people coming more and more to feel 
 themselves one, these ideas are due in the first 
 instance either to the Stoic philosophy or still more 
 to Christianity. Nothing is less new in the world 
 than this, though indeed it can never grow old or 
 obsolete. Even the religion 'de THumanite ' is not, 
 unless its professors choose to make it so, incon- 
 sistent with the religion of Christ. The worship of 
 
 1 Util.i^./\&. 
 
256 PRACTICAL CHARACTER OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 human nature, as distinguished from Christianity, is 
 only Christianity separated from its religious roots, 
 yet with the language of religion still attached to it. 
 What is But why should this philayithropy of utilita- 
 
 in^Us itT rianism join with itself a philosophy, the distinctive 
 cWcter character of which is necessarily that in its practical 
 its assump. application it is negative, since, as we have seen, the 
 
 tionthat ^^. . V • i i r* • i i n 
 
 all that positive conduct which results irom it belongs to all 
 STaV philosophies alike? When the thought came into 
 worthless. Beutham's mind that the greatest happiness of the 
 greatest number was a most worthy object of human 
 exertion, and when he nobly devoted his life to 
 researches into the way of producing it, why was it 
 necessary to take such pains as he did to prove that 
 there was nothing else valuable ? Was it reasonable 
 to think that his youthful and sanguine thought, 
 scarcely examined or reflected on, was basis enough 
 not only for his positive fabric of contribution to our 
 knowledge about human happiness, but for the recon- 
 struction, on this new principle, of all that ages had 
 been doing ? And just in the same way in these 
 papers of Mr MilFs we have continual reference to 
 'bad' laws and 'bad' institutions, as if every step man 
 had hitherto taken in the way of sociality was a 
 mistake^ : while what we have ofiered to us instead is 
 something good indeed, but not new; something 
 which these very laws were made to help, if possible; 
 and to which it is hard to ask us to sacrifice every- 
 thing else when we have so little certainty of the 
 To sum success of our present moral reformers, 
 ticaiutt In all that I am saying here I have no wish to 
 
 deserves''^^ deny the measure of truth which there is in the 
 urlfforts philosophical utilitarianism ; still less would I grudge 
 to diffuse to practical utilitarianism the praise which in its 
 
 the means ■'• . ^ I'iTi* ii i i, 
 
 ofhappi- sphere is due to it. It is a worthy daughter of 
 
 1 UtiLi)T^. 19,21,93. 
 
PRACTICAL CHARACTER OP UTILITARIANISM. 257 
 
 Christianity, whether or not it acknowledges its 
 parentage ; and all that I desire of it is, that, satisfied 
 with the merits which it has, it should not claim those 
 which it has not. The systematizing the ideas as to 
 happiness, and the methodizing of action in order to 
 it, in such a manner as to make this practical philan- 
 thropy intelligent, is not a task of great difficulty, so 
 long as we bear in mind that it is of no use to refine 
 too much in regard to it, but that a great deal must 
 always be left to sympathy and feeling. There are 
 certain simple items of happiness, or more properly 
 of the means of happiness, which are very irregularly 
 distributed in the w^orld, and are sadly deficient in 
 many cases. We may readily imagine a scheme of 
 happiness for man, so far as these things make hap- 
 piness : we may do more than this, and suppose 
 certain mental elements introduced as the result of 
 education : and considering that, if we look around, 
 we shall find a large proportion of persons below our 
 standard, we may set ourselves both in thought and 
 action to remedy this. All honour to those who 
 devote themselves to such a task, and shame to those 
 who do not think of it. Though man does not live 
 by bread and shelter alone, he cannot live without 
 them. 
 
 The mistake of the practical utilitarianism consists but it steps 
 in the consideration that, in place of all the phi- p^ace when 
 losophical speculation and study of human nature ^^^^^^^^^ *° 
 which (notwithstanding the pressure upon man, and human 
 the hard life which in so many respects he has toanTLtion 
 lead) will continually suggest itself and maintain its point!^i°n ^ 
 interest, there should be substituted a sort of generali- ft°^"^dy j.*^ 
 zation of what I have been above describing, in a suppress 
 region which does not belong to it. The way to and fulness 
 act really for human happiness above the region ofjjfe^on*^ 
 bread and shelter, is not by making a supposedly ^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 17 
 
258 PRACTICAL CHARACTER OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 mainly inductivG scheme of the particulars and laws of it, as 
 epen s. .^ .^ were something independent of the rest of man's 
 nature, but by endeavouring to understand human 
 nature and human life, ourselves and others, and by 
 looking upon happiness as what we and others shall 
 have, to the extent to which we are capable of it, 
 when we are in the state of mind and circumstances 
 which belongs to us, and in which, so far as we can 
 make out, we ought to be. Human nature exists not 
 simply in order to have its wants supplied ; it is to 
 be brought out in its variety and its fulness, and it 
 is upon this that its happiness depends. The expe- 
 rience of the humblest of our species, of many upon 
 whom the pressure of life most makes itself felt, 
 gives us a type how this should be. In spite of all 
 the pressure, in the absence almost of bread and 
 shelter, there are developed affections and aspirations 
 quite independent of these wants, and quite as inti- 
 mate to happiness as these wants are, but of such 
 varied and refined nature that, as I said before, no 
 scheme of paper happiness could ever embrace them^ 
 nor could they ever be dealt with by any methodized 
 action for happiness. And as it is for individuals, 
 so is it for human nature in general. In respect of 
 our own happiness we should not, it is probable, 
 really consult it the best by always thinking about 
 it ; and I see no reason why it should not be the 
 same with our action, as members of the human 
 race, for the happiness of the human race. The 
 proper place of happiness in our view seems to be, 
 that, as matter of direct consideration whether for 
 ourselves or for man in general, it should take its 
 share with a variety of other things no less good; 
 sometimes it may be happiness that is directly in 
 our view, sometimes the doing justice, sometimes the 
 preserving faithfulness, sometimes the aspiring to 
 
PRACTICAL CHARACTER OF UTILITARIANISM. 259 
 
 higher moral goodness. If these things are good in 
 themselves for us, they are good for all : so far as we 
 are able to believe life not to be a mere scene of 
 distraction, and conduct not a necessary maze, these 
 things will go together and work the same way: 
 whether they really do, this life may perhaps never 
 tell us, but we can hardly act on any principle at all 
 without the belief that they do. 
 
 There is no need then that practical philanthropy, 
 because it is good in its own noble sphere, should 
 put itself into the place of all moral philosophy. It 
 can only do so by lowering our views of human life, 
 and in this way it will not promote happiness, hut 
 diminish it. 
 
 17—2 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 ON THE SCIENTIFIC CHARACTER OR METHOD OF 
 UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 I <JOME now to speak of the scientific position of 
 utilitarianism, by which I mean its value, as com- 
 pared with other systems of philosophy, in respect of 
 its method. 
 Mr Mill's The division which Mr MilP makes of ethical 
 ethical schools iuto intuitive and inductive has reference to 
 i^oi- their method, in distinction from their substance. 
 itive and The utilitarian school is that which he desiernates as 
 Meaning mductivc. lu this oppositiou howcvcr of inductivc 
 tive^'^a"^' ethics to iutuitivc, the word I presume has scarcely 
 utuSan- ^^® same meaning as it carries in its opposition to 
 ism. deductive : for all systems of ethics are deductive, 
 
 not inductive, in the sense that the substance of 
 them is made up of deduction and development from 
 certain assumed principles. In this sense utilitari- 
 anism is as deductive as any morality of duty, the 
 mass of it consisting in deductions from, and applica- 
 tions of, the principle that right action is that which 
 is conducive to happiness. Such inductiveness tliere- 
 fore as there is in utilitarianism, and which dis- 
 tinguishes it from other systems whose method is 
 intuitive, must consist in the fact that the supposed 
 proof of the utilitarian principle (that right action 
 
 1 UHl. p. 3. 
 
THE METHOD OF UTILITARIANISM. 261 
 
 IS that which is conducive to happiness) is a proof by- 
 way of observation, not by way of a priori judg- 
 ment^ : and also in the fact, that our idea of what is 
 happiness is matter of observation. 
 
 Under the notion of intuitive moral systems, Mr Under the 
 Mill seems to confuse two entirely different lines of tuitive' he 
 thought, schools we may for convenience call them, together 
 Of these the one, the sentimental or emotional, satis- ^^^^^ai 
 fies itself with attributiner srreat importance to the rational 
 
 svstf ms • 
 
 subjective feeling: the other, the school of duty, va- the latter 
 riously named according to its various forms — the^^^^Ji^^y 
 school of the rational or juristic moralists, of the \l^l^^^^^ 
 realists as to moral matter of thought, or ideal- ^WoH or 
 ists, as from another point of view they might be* 
 called — has a strong notion of the reality of facts 
 and relations which the subjective feeling suggests 
 to us, and which reason, they think, makes known 
 to us on other grounds besides. Both schools are 
 noticed by Bentham as hostile to utilitarianism, but 
 the one which he saw and described most clearly as 
 such was the emotional : the other he speaks of under 
 the name of asceticism, in a manner not making it 
 readily recognizable as an important part of human 
 thought. Now of these two schools the former is 
 certainly not less inductive than utilitarianism itself. 
 If we define right action to be action which is in 
 accordance with our feelings of kindness, of fairness, 
 and of generosity, we enunciate a principle which 
 is as capable as the utilitarian principle of being put 
 to the test of observation, and in the substance of 
 our system we afford the same scope for observation 
 as utilitarianism does; the object of observation in 
 this case being not man's feelings of pleasure or 
 pain, but his feelings of kindness and repugnance, of 
 approval and disapproval. Thus when we speak of 
 * Uill. pp. 3, 4, 
 
262 THE METHOD OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 an a priori morality distinguished from that which is 
 inductive, we cannot of course mean this morality of 
 feeling, but must mean a morality of the intellect. 
 And the word intuitive itself implies, in all its various 
 uses, a simple and native intellectual vision. The 
 real distinction therefore is between the supposed 
 a priori morality of reason, in all its forms, which 
 may, if any one likes, be called intuitive morality, 
 and the various systems in which the proof, what- 
 ever its nature, is not supposed to be a ^priori. 
 As applied Mr Mill howovcr does unquestionably use the 
 tionai sya- torm intuitivQ with reference to the emotional moral- 
 w^d *hf- i^y- What does he mean then in this case by the 
 tuitiye* oDDOsition of iutuitive to inductive? He cannot 
 
 could only ■•■■•■ , . . -p .,... 
 
 signify mean to claim exclusive rationality for utilitarianism, 
 assign no iu this scuso that, where the emotionalist can give 
 Ict^onsf^ no other reason for the goodness of a supposed action 
 tolid not ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^ ^^^^^ ^^ inwardly sees it to be good, the 
 be a true utilitarian can give his reason, namely, that it is 
 of them, productive of such and such happiness. The suppo- 
 sition of the emotionalist speaking thus in regard to 
 the detail of duty, is not one which Mr Mill makes; 
 as he considers rightly ^ that all moral systems give 
 reason for the particular actions they recommend. 
 The question is. In what terms is the reason to be 
 given? what acknowledged principles is it to rest 
 on? And as to this, I cannot see why action for 
 happiness is to be considered exclusively rational 
 (if we mean by rational anything more than 'pru- 
 dent,' 'good in the view of our own self interest'), 
 rather than action according to feelings which move 
 us, imperatively and convincingly, in one or another 
 direction. Action for happiness is not at all more 
 action by reason (reason here not meaning the a 
 priori reason mentioned before, but reason in the 
 
 1 UtU.\). 3,43- 
 
THE METHOD OF UTILITARIANISM. 263 
 
 conduct of life), than regulated emotional action is, 
 however to the unthinking it may look so. It is 
 not therefore as the negation of * rational' that the 
 word 'intuitive' is applied to the latter in contra- 
 distinction from utilitarianism. 
 
 The moralists of the last century, who spoke As a mat- 
 variously of a moral sense or a faculty which they the emo- 
 supposed might be made matter of psychologic obser- temslrr' 
 vation, all supposed that in doing this they were ^^l\ . 
 following Bacon and Locke, and setting moral philo- ductiveor 
 sophy on an inductive basis in the sense in which I than utm-* 
 suppose Mr Mill uses the word in opposition to intui- itTJiTa^ 
 tion — on principles, namely, of observation, experi- ^^.^y ^y^ 
 ence, a posteriori reason. In fact if, setting aside connected 
 the truth of one or the other system and comparing Baconian 
 only the methods, we consider which of the two P^^^^^^^^^y- 
 systems falls in most with the idea of going only by 
 experience and avoiding anything a priori, I think 
 the advantage lies with the emotional system. No 
 fact of experience can be more clear, than that man, 
 whenever he has feelings at all, has feelings of kind- 
 ness, of fairness, of generosity, of moral approval of 
 some things and condemnation of others; and that 
 these different sorts of feelings, though endlessly 
 various in the particulars, are in substance the same 
 for all men, at least to the same extent that hap- 
 piness is the same for all men. Against this fact of 
 experience utilitarianism sets the fact or considera- 
 tion (true perhaps, but in any case, as compared with 
 the other, possessing something of an a priori 
 character) that people may feel wrongly, and that, 
 whatever their feelings may be, it is quite certain 
 that no action can be good but such as is promotive 
 of some happiness. By what process of thought a 
 morality which consists in the first instance of the 
 assumption or supposition of a principle like this, 
 
264 THE METHOD OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 and then of a course of deduction from it, can be 
 considered to be a morality of experience or observa- 
 tion as against a morality resting immediately on 
 the experience of human feeling, is what I cannot 
 understand. 
 Tjtiii- What I am saying here about utilitarianism is 
 
 therefore not in my eyes a thing which makes it less likely to 
 cS\obe t>e true : but it destroys such claim as may have been 
 the true py^ forward in its favour on the sfround of superiority 
 
 system ■*• o i ^«/ 
 
 on the of method. Indeed the fact that we find Mr Mill 
 
 its Siod. here summarily putting on the shelf the morality of 
 
 psychologic observation, by the side of the a ^priori 
 
 morality which it was intended to supersede, may 
 
 well lead us to doubt whether in regard of ethics 
 
 the distinction between intuitiveness and inductive- 
 
 ness, pre-Baconianism and Baconianism, is of any 
 
 great importance. 
 
 The moral- As I havo prcviously observed, the emotional 
 
 kindly ^ systems which are concerned with sentiment rather 
 
 ^'^''^^t!!^iK, than with conscience, with ideas of kindness andsym- 
 
 utiiitari- pathy rather than those of duty, are as much forms of a 
 
 and better happiness-pliilosophy as the system which calls itself 
 
 than those utilitariauism. If we imagine papers like these of 
 
 who have ]\/[j. Mill's, pubUshod in whatever misrht correspond 
 
 smce as- *■ . 
 
 sumed the to FvascT ouc hundred years ago, and purporting to 
 feeling of explaiu soutimentalism, or the philosophy of sym- 
 was m!u^r P^^^^y> ^^^ ^^ viudicate it against vulgar misappre- 
 ofobserva-i^ension, we mi2:ht have argruments used to show 
 
 tionto ' . ^ ® -1 1 • • 1 
 
 them, as that Sentiment need not necessarily be irrational, 
 feeling^ of ^ which should be exactly parallel to those here used 
 pleasure |^y ]y[^ MiW to show that rcasou need not exclude 
 
 and pain ^ 
 
 to which sympathy and feelinef. Mr Mill here tries to senti- 
 
 utilitari- J i. J o ^ 
 
 anism con- montalize the methodical happiness- manufacture of 
 fines Itself, jggj^^jj^jj^^ jyst ^^g there might then have been at- 
 tempts to rationalize untrustworthy sentimentalism. 
 Had this process taken place, it is possible the re- 
 
THE METHOD OF UTILITARIANISM. 265 
 
 miction against the sentimentalisra would not have 
 occurred. But in reality, the moralists of the kindly 
 emotions succeeded better in applying the actual truth 
 which there is in utilitarianism, than those who have 
 since assumed the name of utilitarians. The former 
 takmg as their first axiom, that an action is good 
 which is done in accordance with our social feelings 
 or instincts, or whatever we may call them, as dis- 
 tinguished from self-regarding and private views, and 
 then, not before, introducing the utilitarian axiom, 
 that action should have for its end well-understood 
 happiness, and that social action should therefore not 
 be mere obedience to feelings, but should be intelli- 
 gent, thoughtful, methodical, knowing and able to 
 describe what it was aiming at — they, so far as 
 they did this, put things in their right order. The 
 order of the later utilitarianism is what we see in 
 these papers : to put first the principle, that action is 
 only good, in virtue of its tending to some happiness; 
 and then, and not before, to introduce in various pro- 
 portions, up to the very large proportion in which 
 it is introduced by Mr Mill, the moralizing con- 
 sideration that this happiness must be social happi- 
 ness, and not simply private good. As regards the 
 comparative extent to which the one and the other of 
 these kinds of philosophy make morality matter of 
 observation, and in this respect likely to grow and 
 improve, the former does so in reality much more 
 than the other. Human feeling of pleasure and pain, 
 — what it is which constitutes human happiness, — 
 is matter of observation to both: but in addition to 
 this, human feeling of liking and repugnance, — what 
 it is that stirs sympathy (also an undoubted fact 
 of human nature), — is matter of observation to the 
 former. 
 
 I have spoken here of the emotional morality The mo- 
 
 *■ •^ rality of 
 
266 THE METHOD OF UTILITAKIANISM. 
 
 conscience which is of a Sentimental or sympathetic kind, as 
 
 Rads vet ... t/ x ' 
 
 another distinguished from that which is concerned rather 
 obsirvl- ^'^ with conscience or moral faculty, because happiness 
 fieUn" of^ ^® ^ more prominent object with the former, being 
 approval less compUcatcd with other considerations. But 
 provai!^ what I have said applies to this latter morality also. 
 The constituents of human happiness and the nature 
 of human sympathy are a matter of observation 
 to it as well as to the others; and besides this, the 
 facts of that feeling of liking or repugnance for 
 actions, of approval or disapproval of their doers, 
 which we call the moral feeling, are matter of obser- 
 vation to it alone. So untrue is it that utilitarianism, 
 as distinguished from other systems of morality, is 
 the morality of observation and experience. The 
 reverse is the fact. Utilitarianism confines or ex- 
 cludes observation, giving us assumption instead, 
 ^^f.^® . Since then utiUtarianism, in face of the experience 
 
 utilitarian /• t ^^ 
 
 principle of humau fecling, really meets us as summarily as 
 'action is any a 'priori philosophy could with the positive dic- 
 [s^promo'.*' ^^"^i ' Whatever people may think or feel, it is 
 f^®?^ , quite certain that no action can be riVht or sfood 
 
 happiness ^ ^ ^ ^ . 
 
 itself an oxcopt as it is couducive to some happiness,' let us 
 one? see whether this can be considered matter of observa- 
 tion, or is utilitarianism really after all intuitive and 
 a priori in making it? 
 
 The utihtarian principle, as Mr Mill gives it, is, 
 that action is right as it is promotive of happiness, 
 wrong as it is the reverse. This must either mean 
 that promotiveness of happiness 'makes an action 
 right, or that it is only one character of its being so. 
 It does I conclude mean the former, because other- 
 wise utilitarianism would not be any single system 
 as against others : all ethical systems alike, so far as 
 I am aware, allow that right action is felicific, or 
 does tend to happiness. We must then understand 
 
THE METHOD OF UTILITARIANISM. 267 • 
 
 the maxim to mean, that it is promotiveness of 
 happiness which makes an action right. 
 
 If then the ideas are thus coincident, are they Either 
 also identical ? Supposing the question put to which defines ^ 
 the maxim gives an answer, the question, namely, «ri1ht°Mn 
 What is right action ? is the answer given, as logi- which case 
 cians might say, according to the form or the sub- cult to ex- 
 stance ? ^. e. does the answer suppose the question to the worcT 
 imply, What do I mean when I use the word 'rificht,' ffose, and 
 
 ^ '^ , . . . o ^ the pnnci- 
 
 as to action ? what is the definition of the word pi« loses 
 which should be given in a dictionary? Or does itcancerorit 
 suppose the question to imply. What is the sort of [^ ^^^^J^m-^^ 
 conduct and action to which the term ^rierht' applies ? mend a 
 
 ^ ■"• ^ certain 
 
 If the question is understood in the former sense, class of 
 and we suppose that * productive of happiness ' is the the grouud 
 definition we should give of the word * right' in a^^jjlj^"^ 
 dictionary, it is odd that the word ^ right,' as ^Ppli^d^|^J=^j^^^ 
 to action, should ever have arisen (and the same is this 
 applies to the word 'virtuous,' and other synonyms"^ ^^^' 
 of ^ right'): a word which in the derivation carries no 
 reference to happiness, and does not seem to belong 
 to the idea of it. If on the other hand, the question 
 is understood in the latter sense, and 'productive of 
 happiness ' is intended to describe the course of con- 
 duct which as a matter of fact is right ; so that, so 
 far as the meaning of the word 'right' is concerned, 
 it is conceivable that some other sort of action might 
 have been right, only that we are able to come to 
 the knowledge that this is right; then what is the 
 meaninor of the term 'rio^ht' ? for we must have this 
 told us, before we can judge of the truth of the 
 utilitarian maxim, that right conduct is tliat which is 
 productive of happiness: but this utilitarianism does 
 not tell us. 
 
 This is no verbal difficulty about the word 
 'right ;' it is the same whatever term we use of any- 
 
268 THE METHOD OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 thing like the same meaning (as, for instance, ' moral 
 value'), and whatever proposition we make of this 
 kind, in reference to 'productiveness of happiness.* 
 The idea belonging to that term is intelligible; when 
 we put by the side of it the second term, say, 
 ' rightness of conduct,' do we mean these to be two 
 ideas or one ? If we mean only to give another ex- 
 pression for * productiveness of happiness,' of course 
 the propositional form is illusory and unmeaning. 
 On the idea of utilitarianism, which this supposition 
 of the meaning of the maxim implies, it would be 
 better for truth that all terms expressing difference 
 in actions should cease to exist, except those carry- 
 ing with them a plain reference to happiness, as, 
 we will suppose, *felicific.' Only that in that case 
 there is no reason why felicific action should be re- 
 commended , rather than that which is not so : there 
 is no other idea of rightness, goodness, valuableness, 
 than that which belongs to itself; and we can use 
 no terms of praise of it further than saying, that it 
 is itself. If felicific action is better than that which 
 is not felicific, why is it better ? It must be this, as 
 the ancient philosophers would have said, by having 
 more of the quality of goodness in it than that 
 which is brought into comparison with it; and this 
 quality of goodness, which belongs to it, cannot be 
 itself : what is it then ? 
 The prima- Here we arrive at the fact which the less reason- 
 of right ing utilitarians, as Bentham, have apparently en- 
 action ac- deavoured as much as possible to keep out of their 
 "^nideai^^ sight, the fact, namely, that morality of whatever 
 form, even the most thoroughly utilitarian, must 
 suppose an ideal of some kind, a moral preferableness 
 of one sort of action to another, which may turn out 
 to coincide with their relative productiveness of hap- 
 piness, but is not, in the notion of it, the same thing. 
 
THE METHOD OF UTILITARIANISM. 269 
 
 But if SO, then there is an earlier and higher idea of 
 right action than its productiveness of happiness, 
 namely, its being action according to this ideal. This 
 is what constitutes it right action ; this is what is 
 the definition of it. 
 
 We see then that moral philosophy involves the This ideal 
 notion of an ideal, of something which, for whatever gained 
 reason, ought to 6e, as distinguished from what ^5 : g^^^^p^^ri^^^g^ 
 and of course the notion of an ideal of this kind goes though ex- 
 
 . . " penence is 
 
 beyond experience, in reality it seems to me that necessary 
 in the whole of modern ethics, of whatever school, lopment!^' 
 there is an effort to reconcile this notion of an ideal 
 with the notion that now ethics, like other sciences, 
 must go in the way of experience and observation. 
 I do not see how any amount of observation of what 
 man does can tell us what he ought to do, or what is 
 his 'right action.' We have got about him, what 
 we have got about no other existing thing, the in- 
 tractable notion of an ideal, or of what he should he 
 different from what he actually is. On the other 
 hand, how, otherwise than by experience, are we to 
 have any real knowledge ? Without data furnished 
 by experience we cannot even thinh Granting that 
 we may know that there is something which we 
 should be, some way in which we should act, it is 
 absurd to suppose that by abstract or a priori 
 thought, irrespective of the circumstances of human 
 nature, we should make out what this is. 
 
 The moral difficulty which there is in this respect Simpiy 
 is not greater than that which there is as to all our eSs 1^^ 
 thought and knowledge, and I am not going now to ^^^g^,^^'"""^ 
 try to solve it. I have alluded to it, as causing the«^"™P?y, 
 struggle which I have mentioned in all our modern ethics have 
 ethics. Simply a 'priori ethics have no application, ^ionT^^^*" 
 and therefore no significance and no value. Simply 
 a posteriori ethics (or what aims at being the ethics 
 
2 70 THE METHOD OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 of observation and experience) do not seem to me to 
 be ethics at all : if they had existed from the first, 
 we should have had a science of the production of 
 happiness, another of the pathology^ of human feel- 
 ing, &c., but the word 'ethics,"* or 'morals' would 
 never have come into use, nor any such words as 
 'right,' *good,' 'virtuous'. As it is, the idea which 
 people have always had, and which philosophers have 
 endeavoured unsatisfactorily to meet by partial moral 
 systems which have been in reality one or another 
 of the above-mentioned sciences, has been that of a 
 science of what they should do, including of course 
 an answer to the question. Why they should do it : 
 the essence of such a science is the notion of an 
 ideal. 
 The utiii- The more thinking utilitarians do not evade the 
 
 principle, notiou of an ideal ; they are willing to consider that 
 Mr^Miii ethics treat of ' what ought to be,' and that this 
 To'^rove"^^ notion is in some respect different from the notion of 
 from ex- < what is I ' but they find it difficult to deal with the 
 does really notiou. Mr Mill in his proof of the utilitarian 
 idlaijand principle seems to me only to prove (if he does 
 is as much prove it) that as a matter of experience what people 
 any other, dcsiro IS the dcsirablo or happiness : not the utili- 
 tarian principle as he gives it, that the action which 
 it is right people should do is that which tends to 
 happiness. The principle involves an ideal, to which 
 the supposed proof does not even address itself The 
 real proof would have to be something of this kind : 
 such action is right because there is nothing else 
 except happiness which can he the fit and worthy 
 object of human action : whether this is true or not, 
 it seems to be as much a 'priori, as little matter of 
 experience as Kant's dictum quoted by Mr MilP, 
 that right action is that action which all other beings, 
 ^ See above, p. 227. ' Vtil. p. 5. 
 
THE METHOD OF UTILITARIANISM. 2/1 
 
 similarly circumstanced, might adopt as the rule of 
 theirs. 
 
 Bentham can hardly be said to tell us what right Bentham 
 action is at all : and in this respect he may be said fher thL 
 to proceed in a more a 2^Tiori manner even than Mr ^^^jl"' 
 Mill. When a man's whole soul is in a thino^, it does sumes the 
 
 • 1 I 1 • I'll piinciple 
 
 not enter into his mind that there is any duty m the as a neces- 
 matter ; and Bentham seems as unable to conceive sSn.'^'^^^ 
 of a man not enthusiastic for the general happiness 
 as of a man bond fide refusing to recognise utili- 
 tarianism, except as to both cases in the unhappy but 
 numerous instances where 'sinister interest' comes 
 in. What he really does is to give a practical philo- 
 sophy of philanthropy, as he conceived it, for those 
 inclined to it, and to leave any disinclined to it out 
 of consideration. One might almost call him an 
 involuntary emotionalist in acting thus upon the 
 simple instinct, or feeling, of desire for human happi- 
 ness. The tone of his philosophy is as if the maxim 
 that the rightness of an action is its productiveness 
 of happiness were a necessary proposition. At the 
 same time, since an extreme view of this kind is not 
 unlikely to be hard to distinguish from an extreme 
 one on the other, we are hardly certain that he 
 attaches any idea to the expressions ' we ought to do 
 a thing,' ' we should do a thing,' other than that of 
 man-made sanctions. 
 
 The words in which Mr Mill enunciates the utili- Some how 
 tarian principle, namely, ' that right action is that discarded 
 which tends to happiness ',' seem to imply that with aUogtthlr 
 him real rigfhtness or moral value of action is an ^" *^^^'' ^»- 
 
 ~ I , . . terpreta- 
 
 admitted idea, and that he does not take the principle tionof the 
 to mean, as some have done, that action promotive formuiC^ 
 of happiness is a sort of action to which men have !"j.?ght^a 
 agreed to give the name right, good, virtuous, proper; mere result 
 
 1 Util.^,(). 
 
2J2 THE METHOD OF UTILITARIA^NISM. 
 
 of human meaning by these words to convey praise, and mean- 
 
 ance or ing by tlio praiso to encourage the doing the actions, 
 
 education, becauso they wish they should be done. On this I 
 
 am disposed to think that Mr Mill would agree 
 
 with me in considering that such is not the way in 
 
 which the human race could act : that lanofuaore 
 
 could not be made by contrivance to give the notion 
 
 that action was valuable for one reason, while the 
 
 men who made the language had in their minds all 
 
 the time the notion that it was really valuable for 
 
 another reason ; could not in fact be employed to 
 
 conceal or disguise the thoughts of the whole human 
 
 race. Or if we consider language of this kind to be 
 
 not the result of contrivance, but of education; words 
 
 such as ' right,' ' good,' ' virtuous,' are universal ; the 
 
 education therefore which gives rise to them must 
 
 belong to all human civilization. Such education, I 
 
 consider — and here again I think Mr Mill will agree 
 
 with me — to be really the bringing out of what in a 
 
 higher sense is natural to man : by what is 'natural' 
 
 to reasonable man I can only understand the results 
 
 of such education. 
 
 Suchasys- It is obvious howevor that the word utilitarianism 
 
 bewailed is as wcU applicable to those moral systems, so to 
 
 bufit"*"' c^'l them, which do discard the notion of an ideal, 
 
 evacuates considcrins: that 'what we should do' means nothino-, 
 
 the notion *=*.. . •ini-i 
 
 of 'happi- that the attammg ot happmess (itself a highly ideal 
 lesTthan notiou) meaus nothing ; that there are certain things 
 'rh^hf' which people do and must do, namely, take care 
 and is no of thcmselvcs and beware of enemies ; that society 
 ethical is an organization for these purposes, and that the 
 system at ^^^^^^ which gets the name of 'right,' 'good, 'virtu- 
 ous,' is really the action dictated, more or less 
 imperatively, by such society. The OKistence of this 
 unideal utilitarianism, the utilitarianism of fear and 
 jealousy as opposed to the utilitarianism of hope and 
 
THE METHOD OF UTILITARIANISM:; 273 
 
 ehterprize, seems to me to show how the moral or 
 ideal element may really go out altogether. And it 
 also shows how under the semblance of observation 
 and experience, assumption as bad as the worst a 
 priori dogmatism may come in. 
 
 Utilitarianism then, like many other systems ofYetit^ 
 morals, may be, according to circumstances, either of latter utiu. 
 an idealist or unidealist type, in the sense which I have ^hlXcan 
 given to the word ideal; that is, it may have ^^ost^^aiiy^^^^ 
 before it the thought of what men should do, and inductive 
 how they, and life, may be made better — may look posteriori, 
 at ethics as the ars artium, and deal with the subject 
 in the imperative mood : or on the other hand, 
 starting from facts instead of aiming to control them, 
 it may look at man in the first instance without 
 expectation of any kind, without any supposition of 
 there being one course of conduct better for him to 
 pursue than any other course, and see if the facts 
 themselves sus^ofest that there is such. Utilitarian^ 
 ism of the latter or less idealist form, which, looking 
 indifferently at the facts, and seeing that pleasure 
 and pain are prominent among them, proceeds by. 
 methodical observation to determine the laws and 
 higher facts about such pleasure and pain, with the 
 view that, when such science is constructed, it will 
 furnish an art of life to those who may wish to avail 
 themselves of it — utilitarianism of this form repre- 
 sents the inductive science of morals which many are 
 now anxious to introduce as a part of the general 
 Baconian reform of science. Utilitarianism in the 
 more idealist form in which Mr Mill defends it, 
 though it is ready enough to lay claim to the 
 scientific prestige attaching to this latter, is really 
 as different from it in method as any other kind 
 of ethical system could be. It is of course only 
 
 18 
 
274 THE METHOD OF UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 the idealist utilitarianism that can be enthusiastic 
 
 and reforming. 
 Mr Mill's If we investigate more particularly Mr Mill's neo- 
 tarianism utiUtariauism, we shall find that it is distinguished 
 gu?sh!d from the old utilitarianism just in this respect, that it 
 from other jg moro ideal, more a priori, more emotional. To 
 
 forms of ... . . . , . 
 
 ntiiitaii- the general a 'priori axiom, that an action is right in 
 being more SO far as it is productivo of happiness, it adds another, 
 t^pH^r ®^^^lly ^ priori^ as to the distribution of our action 
 and at the for happiuoss, viz. that we are bound to act imparti- 
 more emo- ally for the happiness of all ; and then this happiness 
 itself is idealized, and we are taught to distinguish 
 between a higher and a lower happiness. So when 
 Mr Mill tells us that the social state is not only 
 habitual to man, but also natural and necessary, and 
 demands that the action of each should be that of one 
 who feels himself thus a member of a community; 
 he appears to me in this to make duty an a priori 
 condition of the existence of the idea of man as an 
 intelligent and associative being. It is a thing we 
 might know beforehand, that if men are to asso- 
 ciate together, they must recognize mutual duty : in 
 other words, association which implies intelligence 
 and is not mere juxtaposition contains in it the no- 
 tion of mutual duty. Again, utilitarianism in the 
 new garb which Mr Mill gives to it throws off very 
 much of the merely rational character, which was its 
 charm with some of his predecessors, and becoming 
 more vague and wide gives full scope to emotion and 
 sensibility. I have already frequently had occasion 
 to refer to his language on the subject of sympathy, 
 and in what he says of conscience he seems to come 
 very near to that * thing' which Bentham derided 
 some people as saying that they had within them, 
 * which would tell them what was right and wrong'/ 
 1 Princ. of Mot. and Leg. ch. ii. 
 
THE METHOD OF UTILITARIANISM. 2/5 
 
 I must keep in the reader's mind that in using The tme 
 the word ideal I mean something very general, ^Sicai 
 equally applicable to a morality of duty, or of virtue, bothlntu- 
 or of happiness. Whether it be a rule to go by, an i^^ive and 
 end to be gained, or a character to be attained to, the princi- 
 which is in the man's mind, each is alike ideal, that obuinTd 
 is, it is something beyond fact, and something which l^J^^i 
 observation of itself will not lead him to. Ethics, to ticuiars « 
 be anything, must be philosophy as distinguished ^^^ ^^^'^^*' 
 from simple fact, must be rationary (i.e. interested 
 in the reasons of facts) as distinguished from jposi- 
 tivist, Mr Mill, so far as I understand him, considers 
 that utilitarianism, the supposedly right form of 
 ethics, is not, as to its main method, inductive as 
 opposed to deductive, but inductive as opposed to 
 intuitive. I should rather be inclined to say, that any 
 right form of ethics must be (what he calls) intuitive 
 in the first instance, and then, as to the particulars, 
 must have an observational science, or more than 
 one, dependent upon it, according to which these par- 
 ticulars must be determined. Mr Mill remarks most 
 reasonably on the want of what we may call sub- 
 stance, content, detail, applicability to life, of the 
 absolute or independent morality by itself, as shown 
 for instance in Kant's categorical imperative \ The 
 morally ideal or imperative character of this kind of 
 morality he considers equivalent to an intellectually 
 a priori or absolute one : and as an alternative and 
 better morality he proposes one with an intellectually 
 a posteriori or inductive character, which, in so far as 
 it really had this character, could carry no imperative- 
 ness or authority with it, and set before us no ideal. 
 In reality, as we have seen, with all this profession of 
 an inductive, as opposed to the old a priori, morality, 
 he assumes, without waiting for any induction, an im- 
 
 1 Util. p. 77. 
 
 18—2 
 
2/6 THE METHOD OP UTILITARIANISM. 
 
 perativeiless, or a ' something whicli should he, ' quite 
 as much as the most thorough-going a priori moralist. 
 Every word that he writes breathes the feeling that 
 the acting for the general happiness, or however he 
 would describe it, is not only something which we 
 find people do (supposing that to be really the case), 
 but is something which they should do, which they 
 ought to do, which in the nature of things they are 
 called upon to do : his morality therefore is as much 
 a priori as the other. 
 The real Siuco then the a priori assumption that there is 
 
 difference 
 
 between somcthiug which should be done is common both to 
 Sm In?''" ^^ ^i^^ ^^^ *^ *^ose whom he calls the a priori 
 the so- moralists, it is evident that the real difference of 
 a prion opiuion between him and them cannot be a differ- 
 notaViffer- ^^1^0 as to method, as he would put it. The differ- 
 meThod ®^^® ^^ ^^ fact one as to the nature of the science 
 buta differ- from which the subordinate details of morality would 
 respect to bost bo loamed. Each moralist would allow the 
 ordinate othor s a pviori axiom : Mr Mill would not dispute 
 tk^n^a^ ^^^^'s ^^^ of generality, or fairness, or whatever 
 sciences WO may Call it : nor would Kant dispute that one 
 they derive way of descHbing the manner in which we ought 
 ticuLra."^* ^^ ^^^ might be, that our action should be aimed 
 at producing the greatest amount of general hap- 
 piness. The utilitarian goes on. Let our auxiliary 
 science then be simply the science of human happi- 
 ness. I do not know what Kant would have said, 
 but I should feel inclined to say. This science is not 
 enough : I do not think we can keep it separate 
 from other sciences equally connected with human 
 life; I should like, for instance, to investigate the 
 human feeling of fairness, or justice, and its exempli- 
 fication in the actual laws and social arrangements 
 which human experience sets before us; I should 
 like to study psychologically the human feelings of 
 
THE METHOD OP UTILITARIANISM. 2/7 
 
 faithfulness, and others similar, which seem to me 
 important independently of any consideration of hap- 
 piness. If utilitarianism is a moral system at all, it 
 is in this region that lies its difference from others: 
 its claim to an inductive method distinguishing it 
 from other systems is delusion. 
 
 The fault of utilitarianism therefore in respect The utm- 
 of method consists, according to my view, in its claim to 
 professing and pretending to have a method which tivVme"^' 
 it has not and which, if it had, it could not use: a**'?^^«* 
 method recommendinsf it, in a way in which other tempt on 
 
 1 o ' 1 1 1 1 i • tlie part of 
 
 systems cannot be recommended, to the better scien- philosophy 
 tific judgment of our age. It wants to be philoso- seif'into^ * 
 phy and not philosophy, to keep strictly to the p°^^*^^"'°*- 
 positive and to fact, and yet to tell us what we 
 should do. It varies, as we have seen, endlessly 
 along a scale between these two, according to its 
 degree of idealism. The simple positivist or matter- 
 of-factist would really as much condemn utilitarianism 
 for being metaphysical in supposing there was any 
 one thing that we should do rather than another, 
 as he would agree with utilitarianism in condemning 
 as metaphysical, and as not keeping to ascertainable 
 fact, all the philosophy of inward consciousness. And 
 yet, as we have seen, the philosophy of the facul- 
 ties and feelings which prevailed in the last century 
 was looked upon as right, in distinction from the 
 philosophy before it, because it was supposed to be 
 founded on experience. In one form after another 
 philosophy tries to gain credit with the advancing 
 scientific spirit by denying itself, and ever tries in 
 vain. I have no fear that philosophy will really die, 
 because, however, in obedience to the supposed exi- 
 gencies of scientific method, people try to make them- 
 selves altogether mentally positivist, they cannot do 
 so : our nature in some respects is better to us than 
 
278 THE METHOD OF UTILITAKIANISM. 
 
 our will, and preserves the imaginative, ideal, as- 
 piring, tendency within ns against all our effort to 
 supersede it. But in the mean time there is caused 
 much waste of thought and language. 
 
CHAPTEE XVIII. 
 
 THE PHILOSOPHY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 The two thousand years of human change and The idea of 
 human effort, which, roughly speaking, have inter- as well as 
 vened between ancient and modern ethics, were likely gcfentific 
 of course to produce change of view, or at least to ^^^^^^g'^^ 
 bring new elements of thought into consideration, modem, 
 I have mentioned how it has been a prominent idea guished 
 of modern ethical writers to make their science follow andent 
 in the wake of the supposed reform of scientific *^<^^g^*- 
 method which has taken place in modern times ; and 
 I have also mentioned the difficulty of uniting the 
 notion of this method with that of an ideal, or of 
 ' something that man should do/ Another prominent 
 particular of thought differencing modern ethics from 
 ancient is the consideration of human change, ex- 
 perience, progress itself. This could not enter into 
 the mind of the ancient moralists any more than the 
 notion of a method of observation and induction, as 
 better than one of simple thought and reasoning. It 
 is a difference of view arising, not simply from the 
 fact of so much more time of the human race being 
 passed, but rather from the fact that now we have 
 an acquaintance, such as it is, with the whole of our 
 globe and of the human race. 
 
 The notion of mankind or of the human race was This idea 
 one which could hardly have much significance to greJo/^' 
 the ancient moralists. Christianity, in this as in ^ue^t^^^® ^* 
 
280 THE PHILOSOPHY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 Chris- other respects anticipatory of the future, first intro- 
 duced a sort of unity of view in regard of man. When 
 we talk of mankind now, we know the extent and 
 the physical limits of our subject. We cannot (un- 
 happily perhaps) now dream of happier and higher 
 races of men in parts of the earth as yet unknown. 
 Idealist In its application to ethics, the notion of human 
 
 aHst vLws progress has taken two entirely different forms, which, v 
 OTe^sTpro- though oftcn confused in language, are really almost 
 gress as antao^ouistic. Proofress, accordinof to the one, means 
 
 improve- .® t ?••! 
 
 ment, and improvement: accordiug to the other, it is the stream 
 nlturar ^^ or courso of humau nature. The one view, it will be (9 
 growth, gggj^^ jg what I have called ideal: the other, the 
 reverse. If we mean by progress improvement, we 
 must have some notion of what (regard being had 
 to man's nature) it is desirable he should be or 
 become ; the word improvement has no meaning ex- 
 cept on the supposition of a better and a worse, of 
 what should be and what should not be. This is the 
 ideal which I have spoken of, and which, however 
 necessary for the formation of it a knowledge of the 
 facts of man's nature may be, that knowledge alone 
 cannot give : what it is that makes one state of 
 human society better than another, must be deter- 
 mined by some considerations not contained in that 
 knowledge. The other view of progress, the unideal, (5) 
 may be said to take man for his own ideal, con- 
 sidering that there can be no other idea of collec- 
 tive human improvement than the growth or onward 
 course of human nature as a matter of fact. Those 
 who hold this view seem to think that, since man 
 in general has taken such and such a course, 
 therefore this course is all that can be meant by 
 human improvement. Such a view is a sort of appli- 
 cation, in moral tilings, of the notion which to so 
 great an extent guides our physical research, that 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF PROGRESS. 28 1 
 
 everything is right or has a reason; a notion which 
 might there perhaps be expressed by saying that 
 lightness is determined by fact ; but we cannot trans- 
 fer this notion of rightness to anything in a moral 
 view except upon some considerations of religion. 
 
 Of these two views as to human progress the 
 first of course may lead, as it has Jed, to extraordinary 
 mistake ; while the second, from the notion of it, 
 ought to lead to no moral results of any kind, and if 
 it is made to do so, they must be WTong ones. 
 
 The idealist view may be seen in its greatest m. Comte's 
 strength in those philosophers who have (nobly, very a^elTam^^e 
 often, if mistakenly) persisted in seeing in the sue- fj^^^^fg^^^' 
 cessive events of history an advance nearer and view of 
 nearer to a state which thej have variously charac- SuchT^' 
 terized, according to their degree of aspiration and JruTto ^^ 
 hopefulness, some as a perfection of the human race, ^^^g^g^'^^^jj 
 all as a state much above what it has seen as yet. us what 
 The unidealist view may be seen best in such a notion dJ. 
 as that which M. Comte has of the future science of 
 sociology. From simple observation of human history 
 and circumstances, raised into higher and higher 
 generality by inductive method, is to arise a science 
 to direct and guide human action. That a science 
 may thus arise, I can understand : but I cannot 
 understand how it should be able to tell us what 
 man should do, except on the assumption of one 
 or another axiom (whereas it is supposed nothing of 
 this kind is assumed), upon which the science will 
 really rest, at least as much as on the induction so 
 prominently put forward. And any such assumption 
 wall give an ideal : it will destroy the positivism or 
 supposed Baconianism which is to be the charm of 
 the new science, and raise a question which must be 
 discussed upon grounds very much like a i^riori 
 ones. 
 
282 THE PHILOSOPHY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 It can The assumption might be, that general human 
 
 light on feeling in different ages and countries was a test of 
 
 fmprove- ^hat was good, of what should he, and that it should 
 
 ment ex- therefore direct our action : or it might be (and most 
 
 through probably with M. Comte would be) that later human 
 
 an un- 
 
 avowed feeling and thought was to be preferred to earlier, 
 ™fa^.^^^^" on account of the above mentioned idea 0^ growth: but 
 sumption, whatever it was, some reason would have to be given 
 why it was one of such supposable axioms rather than 
 another : and of what nature could such a reason be? 
 In giving it, we plunge into all the ethical difficulties 
 which it is the object of positivism to avoid. In 
 keeping to the observation and description of facts, 
 particular or general, positivism is in its place, and 
 may call itself, if it will, a philosophy, though in 
 that case it must be distinguished from what I have 
 called^ a rationary philosophy, which takes interest 
 in the reasons of facts. But in telling us that we 
 should do one thing or another, without giving us 
 a reason why, positivism is not only non-rationary, 
 but is irrational ; it comes into the province of rea- 
 son, and does not know how to behave itself there. 
 When M. Comte tells us that, because the world 
 as a matter of fact (as he thinks) has proceeded 
 through various other stages of thought till it has 
 come to positivism, w^e ought therefore to be posi- 
 tivists and help on positivism, I wish to under- 
 stand the ' because ' and the * therefore,' or, as logi- 
 cians would say, to know the major proposition of 
 the syllogism. Why may not the departure of the 
 old theological and metaphysical ideas have been a 
 loss to human nature, and our best duty be to try 
 to bring them back ? M. Comte, pretending to go 
 on fact only, and assume nothing, does assume, What 
 comes last is best. Supposing this to be so, it is 
 ^ See above, p. 275. 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF PROGRESS. 283 
 
 certainly no matter of fact, but a metaphysical dictum 
 which wants proving, just as the perfectibility of 
 human nature, or anything else a man might assert, 
 would want proving. M. Comte, leaving positivism 
 for a short time, might give reasons ; but then he 
 must listen to counter-reasons, and we enter into a 
 metaphysical discussion on what human progress is. 
 If he says. In physical thought the last is the best : 
 we must have some reasons as to moral and meta- 
 physical thought, for concluding that they follow the 
 same analogy. 
 
 I have said that these two views of proo^ress idealist 
 
 n 1 • r» Till ^ ^^* 
 
 are very constantly confused : in fact the holders idealist 
 of either of them are very apt to come into the^o^eL 
 middle ground, and, contrary to their principle, to^^^^^Pj*® 
 incorporate much from the other. Any on either each from 
 side practically in earnest must do this. Hence the 
 idealist who maintains the perfectibility of human 
 nature will be led, in his impatience, to bring his 
 ideal very poorly down, and to preach as perfection 
 a state in respect of which his hearers are puzzled 
 to see that in happiness or anything else it is any 
 improvement upon the present. And hence also the 
 positivist or non-idealist will, as from Mr Mill's 
 papers the reader will see M. Comte does, make even 
 positivism and matter-of-factism (that is, the refusal 
 to take account of anything else in things except that 
 they are) into a religion capable of exciting enthu- 
 siasm, and the enthusiasm of a philosopher like Mr 
 Mill \ On principles of idealism we come thus per- 
 haps only to a dull and vain glorification of that 
 which happens now to be, and on principles of posi- 
 tivism or worship of fact we come to grand antici- 
 pations of the future. 
 
 Thus far I have endeavoured to show that the 
 
 » l7^?^7. p. 48. 
 
284 THE PHILOSOPHY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 positivist philosophy of progress cannot supply a 
 
 practical morality ; that, if it attempts to do so, it 
 
 becomes self-contradictory, involving metaphysical 
 
 and idealist considerations like any other system. I 
 
 shall now look at the matter from another point of 
 
 view, and inquire Avhat has been the real cause of 
 
 human improvement. 
 
 In practice Humau progrcss, so far as it is improvement, is 
 
 provTment and has been the result of human effort. It does not 
 
 fCbeiiTr come of itself, it is not a natural development bearing 
 
 in an idea!, an analogy to physical growth. It may be called 
 
 natural in so far as that it is the nature of a being 
 
 like man to make efforts after his own improvement, 
 
 but he will not progress or improve unless he does so. 
 
 Improvement involves an ideal, that is, a notion I 
 of a better and a worse. And in the same manner ^ 
 as improvement itself, so the judging, in retrospect, 
 what is improvement, involves such an ideal also. 
 The ideal This uotiou of an ideal, and the feeling of liberty 
 edbjfthe as it is uuderstood by many moral writers, maybe 
 Uberty.^^ Considered to be the same thing: man has not only 
 will, but has full and deliberate consciousness of him- 
 self as a free agent : he is conscious at once of there 
 being the power in him, and the necessity upon him, 
 of choice : lie may not only do, but in a great measure 
 be, what he pleases, in some respects at once, in some 
 respects by slow degrees. This liberty is, in the very 
 notion of it, a looking by man beyond anything which 
 is merely a condition of his nature. So far as such 
 liberty exists, it is his nature to mahe his own na- 
 ture, his own self, his own course of action. And 
 such liberty must involve an ideal, something for 
 the liberty to look to: for it is not caprice, it is 
 choice ; it supposes reason why one thing should be 
 done, and not another. 
 ^ettnTss of "^^^^ there exists thus for man an ideal, as well 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF PUOGRESS. 285 
 
 as a simply actual, nature and course of action ; this feeling 
 that such a notion is reasonable and not mere self- p^"^^^,^^ 
 delusion ; in other words, that improvement is pos- !^^5 y^^^re 
 
 •11 r • T • 1 n in • i i it does not 
 
 SI Die tor man, mdividually and collectively, does exist moral 
 not, it is true, admit of logical proof to any who rTJmean-^* 
 choose to say that the case is not so ; but it requires ^"^' 
 to be supposed in order to give reason or place 
 to anything which can be called ethical science. 
 Against a simply positivist view, that what is, is 
 right, and what comes last is best, or progress (in so 
 far as we choose to use the words), — against such 
 a keeping to experience as this, there is nothing 
 to be said except that man, as a fact, has all his 
 powers and action to dispose of, and that there is 
 nothing in this view to guide him as to the disposal 
 of them. The feeling of our being free ; the feeling 
 of there being a meaning and reason in things, to 
 which our action may correspond; the feeling that 
 thought or knowledge rules actuality or reality, and 
 is not merely a sort of accidental circumstance or 
 result of it^ — this feeling, one in many forms, which 
 
 1 The Author here contrasts what in the E.vploratio he calls the 
 phenomerialist, or positivist, and the philosophical views of the uni- 
 verse. The former is described as that view of the universe ' according 
 to which its being known to any body is an inessential accident of it : 
 existence is the fact, knowledge the possibility which may supervene/ 
 Expl. p. 10. The latter, his own, view is expressed in the passages 
 which follow : 
 
 ' The phenomenal universe, as conceived by us, is a sort of deposit 
 from our thinking nature,' p. 46. 'The original fact to us, the one 
 thing of which we are, before ail others, certain, is not the existence of 
 an universe of which we, as organized beings form a part, but tlie 
 feeling, thinking, knowing, that this is so, and the knowing that we do 
 know it, or in other words, that we who know it are anterior, in our 
 own view of ourselves, to it,' p. 84. * The thinghood of a thing is the 
 proper thoughtness of it, what it is rightly thought to be : the right 
 thinking of it is indeed on the other side the thinking of it as it is, but 
 the two do not exactly counterdefine each other, because mind comes 
 first — the cardinal point of philosophy in my view : the thing as 
 thought, pre-contemplated by the Creator, contemplated by beings 
 with created faculties of knowledge with such following of his thought 
 as they can attain to, is the idea, the ideal thing, the ideal reality 
 
286 THE PHILOSOPHY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 suggests to US an ideal of action, is what (I suppose) 
 
 exists in some men, and the correctness of which can 
 
 never be demonstrated to those in whom it does not 
 
 exist. But where it does not exist, I cannot think 
 
 that the words, improvement, advance, progress, 
 
 ought, should, and many others, have any meaning. 
 
 The as- There is a sophistical confusion in a good deal of 
 
 thS^thr positivist reasoning between two notions, the one, 
 
 coursfof *^^^ ^® ^^^ ^^^ really free, but that our action is 
 
 things has itself part of a course of things ; the other, that we 
 
 guide our are free, but that the course of things, and growth of 
 
 the truest reality/ p. 188. *We are, for physical and physiolo- 
 gical study, one species of animal upon the earth, the highest that 
 we know.... We may study the facts of our own nature... in our 
 place in the universe, as we may study any fact of any nature, 
 phenomenally. But we are and we cannot help really feeling ourselves, 
 for purposes of philosophical and moral study, not this, but something 
 different — what I should call 'higher '...We feel ourselves as having a 
 free consciousness, a disposition to look at things generally, a curiosity 
 or love of knowing, a disposition to do things for a purpose and to try 
 to do them well; all which, with kindred feelings besides, makes us 
 occupy in our own view the position, not of animals..., but of observers 
 of the relation between ourselves and this universe, with its existence 
 subordinated to ours, believing in it not because we are inferior to it 
 but because we think it, judging about it as well as studying it, and 
 when we are settling upon our action, thinking from this free point of 
 view what is worth doing, what wants doing, what it is well should be 
 done,' pp. 178, 9. 
 
 The words which follow shortly afterwards in the text, * this feeling 
 is what (I suppose) exists in some men,' may be illustrated from the 
 Author's 'philosophical reminiscence' given in p. 146 of the Exphratio, 
 * The idealism, personalism, or whatever it may be called, which lies at 
 the root of all that I have said, is not simply a doctrine or opinion, but 
 seems to me to have been my earliest philosophical feeling, and to have 
 continued, if not so vivid, yet not less strong, ever since. Experience 
 in these things is all individual, but what, from my own, I should guess 
 is, that that phenomenalism which seems to us to be everything, that 
 world which is too much with us, that nature or universe into which, as 
 time goes on, we seem to sink all our independent selfhood so as to be 
 only parts of it — the highest animals in it — is something in a manner 
 which we required to get used to ; and that before this familiarity is 
 complete, in earlier years, there is a disposition in us to be struck with 
 what I may call our personal or conscious difference from it, or inde- 
 pendence of it, or however else we may style the individual feeling : 
 this is what is with me the root of philosophy.' Ed. 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OP PROGRESS, 287 
 
 human nature, makes it in a manner our duty or wis- free action 
 dom to direct our action by it. So far as we are not seems such) 
 free, all morality is of course precluded ; we need not g^^n ^f "wo 
 discuss what we should do, if we are not our own distinct 
 
 ' ^ views. 
 
 masters so as to be able to do it. But at any rate 
 we inevitably consider ourselves free : even sup- 
 posing that this is a mere self-delusion, and that 
 some course of things, unawares to us, is all the while 
 directing us — even then there is no reason why we 
 should ourselves seek to forego our freedom by 
 acting (necessarily) according to a course of things 
 of which we seem to be independent, and the ex- 
 istence of which gives it no authority over us. It 
 is possible that the great course of human nature 
 may carry all our individual action with it : if 
 that is so, it will be so, however we seem to act 
 and whatever we aim at : but this is no reason why, 
 to the extent to which we seem to ourselves free, 
 we should direct our action to what we may conceive 
 to be this course. In attempting to do so, we are 
 going out of our sphere into one that does not belong 
 to us. What is to be, will be, whatever we do. An 
 ideal is 'what should be,' and not 'what is to be,' 
 any further than as ' what is to be ' is felt by us as 
 w^hat should be. 
 
 Whatever may be the value of M. Comte's views it is not 
 in themselves, there is no doubt that he puts into a thrideai- 
 sort of scientific languas^e what there is a wide- ^^^''^,^'^; 
 
 T . T ments of 
 
 spread tendency to think, namely, that man be- human 
 comes more Epicurean and positivist as he becomes te^ndTo 
 generically older ; that in the actual course of human wiofthr 
 intellectual movement, the positive element thrusts a^Yf.nce of 
 out and supersedes the ideal, whatever form thistion. 
 latter may take, whether religious (or, as most of 
 those who look with complacency on its supposed 
 disappearance would say, ' theological '), or poetical, 
 
288 THE PHILOSOPHY OF PROGPvESS. 
 
 or metaphysical, or whatever it may be. I regard this 
 as a conclusion from limited observation, and as the 
 reverse of the truth, except in so far as the notion 
 that it is so tends in some measure to realize itself, 
 and in so far also as something of the kind may be 
 brought about by various secondary causes. 
 This has This notion is commended to the minds of many 
 
 gestl;d"by by a supposcd analogy between the historical life of 
 inlioty ^^^ human race and the life of the human individual ; 
 th^Tfrof ^ supposition which seems to me to be one of the 
 the indivi- greatest fallacies which we can import into our view 
 ti^e^iife of of history. And, singularly enough, owing to their 
 the race : ggygj-g^j toucs of mind, it is Very much its nature to 
 recommend itself alike to those who are glad of, and 
 to those who deplore, the supposed process. The 
 religious man, the poet, the philosopher, constantly 
 looks back upon the past with an affection which 
 makes him think the present worse than it (as he 
 would mean the word worse), and when the posi- 
 tivist or man of fact tells him that this is the 
 way in which things are really going, he is just as 
 ready to believe it, as the other, from his limited 
 range of observation, is ready to form the notion. 
 and the In reference to theological ideas especially, this 
 
 been^^^^ suppositiou of the vanishing of ideahsra, with in- 
 SdedTn creasing civilization, is further encouraged by the 
 regard to confusiou betwecu positivism and that which is 
 thereon- ^ frequently called ' secularism/ By this term I un- 
 tweenp^osi- derstand that want of religious sentiment in the 
 fiicurrism ^^^^ instance, that want, more widely speaking, of 
 elevation of mind and of earnestness, which is 
 very likely to exist in an advanced state of civili- 
 zation. This is really something quite distinct from 
 intellectual positivism, that is, from the notion that 
 religious ideas, and others perhaps with them, are 
 incompatible with right views of nature. At no 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF PROGRESS. 289 
 
 period has what we call the civilized world been more 
 secularist, less under the influence of religious or 
 theological sentiment, than in the peaceful period of 
 the Boman empire, a century after our era. And at 
 no time also has there been less interest in physical 
 science, less intellectual positivism. But because in 
 our time the two feelings to a certain degree co-exist 
 they are often assumed to constitute one feeling 
 which man in his progress tends to. 
 
 I do not think it is true of either of these How it is 
 characters of mind that it belongs properly to a later zation^^ 
 stage of human progress rather than to an earlier one : ^^^^ ^^ 
 but there is a tendency in civilization to bring out both. 
 both of them ; a tendency which, as regards positivism, 
 seems to me bad in excess, in regard to secularism, 
 bad altogether. This is a part of that great diffi- 
 culty which we have to face in thinking of the 
 improvement of human nature ; the difficulty, name- 
 ly, that with the material improvement of human 
 condition we lose elements which, however undesir- 
 able in themselves, have effect in bringing out many 
 high and noble qualities. In regard to this it should 
 be remembered that these qualities may be brought 
 out otherwise, and that therefore there is no actual 
 necessity for their disappearing in the improved state 
 of things. If they do disappear, it will be a question 
 how far we are entitled to describe the progress made 
 as real improvement rather than the reverse. 
 
 In reality however it seems to me that, so far Reaiiy the 
 as we can have the notion of an unitary course of '^'J^^^jJ^^^^'^ 
 human history, and of our best present civilization ^^^^ been 
 
 ,1 1 i . . 1-1 1 stiength- 
 
 as the goal or utmost point which man has as yet ened with 
 attained to, the mind of man is now richer, fuller, va^ce of 
 more developed, than it was when history first ena- f^^^^' 
 bles us to know about him, not only as to positive 
 science, in which we can distinctly trace the line 
 
 19 
 
290 THE PHILOSOPHY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 of progress, but as to those elements which I have 
 comprehended under the term ideal, in which accord- 
 ing to the view of positivists it has been going round 
 in ceaseless dispute. If the case were as they de- 
 scribe it, I should not think there had been improve- 
 ment : that it is otherwise, I think is due, not to any- 
 necessary development or merely natural course of 
 . events, but to man's continued efforts to improve 
 himself, whatever value in addition we may be dis- 
 posed to assign to supernatural aid given him by 
 revelation. 
 Thegrowth It seoms to me a mistake to consider that the 
 dffferefromP^s^ oxperienco of the human race has acted upon it 
 that of the {^i the Way rather of siftins: and correcting, or in 
 
 individual •' ... . 
 
 through the fact what I should call impoverishing, than in the 
 succession ^^^ ^^ onrichiug and emboldening; that it has 
 combS^ been such as to teach humility to man's intellect 
 with the rather than enterprize and confidence : that it has 
 
 inheritance ...... 
 
 of what is shown scopticism, or disposition to doubt and ex- 
 amine, to be a more valuable intellectual element 
 than imagination, and disposition to theorize and 
 generalize ; that there is really any analogy between 
 the experience of the human race and that process 
 which is supposed (and supposed probably much 
 more generally than the facts warrant) to go on in 
 individuals, namely a replacement, with increasing 
 age, of imagination and apparent illusion by an 
 attachment to matter of fact. There is no natural 
 reason to suppose in human nature the double move- 
 ment which belongs to individuals, towards an end 
 as well as from a beginning. Mankind is ever being 
 fresh renewed. We are all born new, ignorant, un- 
 tamed, as if, so far as we are concerned, the world 
 was just begun. "Whatever physical difference there 
 may be between the infant of civilization and that of 
 savage life, it leaves untouched a very large amount 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF PROGRESS. 29 1 
 
 of resemblance. And the true progress or improve- 
 ment of human nature seems to me to arise from the 
 fit mixture of this ever fresh youthfulness, in spite 
 of all its accompanying ignorance and almost savage- 
 ness, with the experience and the maturity which 
 from one generation, to another has been increasing. 
 
 In this respect, along with the progressive, the Some of 
 
 1 , p , , . the most 
 
 unprogressive elements 01 human nature are not valuable 
 without their value and their charm ; or rather we of^^^^ 
 mio^ht perhaps better call them the elements which do nature, 
 
 ^ ^ , ^ . . though 
 
 not constitute progress, but cause and animate it. In contributo- 
 one point of view, man may be described as a being gJess,^Ire 
 whose nature is slowly chansjinsf, what we call civili- ^'lemseives 
 
 ^ "^ 00' unprogres- 
 
 zation being the main agent in that change. Butsive. 
 we shall be led into error in saying this, if we do not 
 consider along with it that, in another point of view, 
 man's strength , like that of Antaeus, consists in not 
 letting himself be lifted away from those great roots 
 and foundations of his nature which, whatever he may 
 grow up to besides, he must constantly keep hold of. 
 In regard to his intellectual and moral progress, he 
 must not think that his past experience is some- 
 thing done with, that it is all mistake, and only of 
 use as warning. Our main practical interest being 
 of course in the future, as the sphere in which our 
 action lies and our will must work, there is sure to 
 be a tendency in us to grow weary of the past, to mis- 
 apprehend the nature of progress in this respect, 
 and consider that there is something dishearten- 
 ing in the supposition that we are only after all 
 repeating in our experience now something which, 
 under another form perhaps, has already existed. We 
 had rather have in all respects a linear progress than 
 a cyclical movement. 
 
 In speakinsf however of the unprogressive ele- ^^^ p^^- ^ 
 
 ir o 10^ greas is not 
 
 ments of human nature, we must not forget that, in marked by 
 
 19—2 
 
292 THE PHILOSOPHY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 p^etuKo. ^^i^y particulars in wliich it has been assumed by 
 veityand some that there has been no prosrress, there has 
 
 change ^^ -i^ -, . . 
 
 view which really been progress most important, though, it may 
 ciatedwithbe, not of the same kind as that for which the name 
 Snce!^ of progress is often exclusively arrogated. There is 
 a tendency in many to look on physical science as 
 we look to the manao^er of a theatre or to the sessions 
 of parliament, as bound to show their life by supply- 
 ing us with something new ; novelty, not truth and 
 use, being what we thus look for. But there is 
 no necessary progress, no improvement, in mere 
 novelty, or change of view. Perpetual change of 
 view has no value in itself; it is only good as an 
 approximation to truth ; on the supposition, that is, 
 of an ideal which we are progressing towards. When 
 the natural curiosity or healthy appetite after truth, 
 ever disappointed indeed but not the worse for dis- 
 appointment, ever seeing further summits beyond 
 the one which it has been struggling up, becomes 
 altered into the mere notion of eternal change of view 
 under the name of progress, and into a curiosity after 
 mere novelty, this shows there must be something 
 wrong in the whole conception which we have about 
 the matter. That so much change of intellectual 
 view has to take place in our progress in knowledge, 
 is of itself, that is, irrespective of the consideration of 
 its being an advance towards full knowledge or truth, 
 in many respects a misfortune rather than an advan- 
 tage : if we could keep up, along with the new 
 knowledge, the thought which had led to it, and the 
 interest attaching to that thought, if the new know- 
 ledge at each point did not change our minds so 
 much as it does, we should be intellectually the better 
 for it. 
 still man I feel mysclf no doubt that man s mind is richer 
 
 richer HOW ideally, in the sense which I have given 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF PROGRESS. 293 
 
 to the word, as well as positively (by which latter ideally 
 I mean in respect of actual and methodized know- waT^ooo 
 ledge of nature), than it was two thousand years ago. ^^1^0^°°* 
 To recur to the case which I have already men- feeHng has 
 tioned, we are all aware how, beneath the surface of tendency 
 the secularism which prevailed under the Koman.^^t Sresh ; 
 empire, a misrhty reinforcement to the relio^ious feel- ^"4,^>^gh 
 
 i ^ o «; ^ ^ o ^ civilization 
 
 ing of the world was quietly working : and it seems ^^a^/^ yet it 
 to me, so far as we can judge at all from history, check 
 that, with revelation and without it, religious feeling, fmaginU^ 
 whether in true and good forms or in bad and erro- *'°°- 
 neous ones, goes on and continually breaks out afresh, 
 leaving as the result on the whole that mankind is 
 more religious, not less so, than in its earlier days. 
 And so again in regard to the non-positivist elements 
 of human thought as they are connected with imagi- 
 nation and poetry. Anything which diminishes the 
 elevation of human thought will lower also human 
 imagination ; and there are some elements of civili- 
 zation, as we have seen, which do tend to do this. 
 Intellectually also, human imagination loses the faith 
 which it ought to have in itself, in the face of the 
 loud boastings of advance which are made in behalf 
 of the knowledge of fact, and thus becomes open to 
 a host of secondary causes which stop and nip and 
 chill it. Still it seems to me that such weakening 
 of the imaginative powers as is produced by civiliza- 
 tion is not a necessary result of it, but a bad one, 
 which need not be yielded to. 
 
 In regard to morality, which is our main concern, with 
 if we compare the mind of a man of thought and feel- to^morai 
 ins: now with the imao^ined mind of a man of the p^^^^^^p^'^ 
 
 ^ , ^-^ , there has 
 
 Roman period to which I have just alluded, and this been 
 again with the imagined mind of a man, say in progress in 
 Greece, a thousand years before, which is certainly as ^oooTears. 
 far back as we can go, it seems to me, that so far 
 
294 THE PHILOSOPHY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 from man's mind being less richly furnished now, it is 
 vastly richer than it was then : the old is not worn out 
 and lost without replacement, but man has in reality 
 gone on adding to his stock, so that it is better now 
 than ever. There is not indeed that sort of progress 
 to show which physical science can show ; for it is 
 not in the nature of the thing that there should be. 
 There is not therefore the same means of proof of 
 improvement to those who feel inclined to deny it. 
 In fact, to those who are unwilling to admit the 
 notion of an ideal at all there is nothing to be said : 
 the parties must remain separate, with their own 
 thoughts and feelings. But thus much we may at 
 any rate assert : man now, comparing him in the man- 
 ner which I have just mentioned with man at two 
 previous periods, thinks differently on moral subjects 
 from what he did then : this difference may be de- 
 scribed as his having various ideas now which he 
 had not then : he has now the distinct idea of duty ; 
 he has the idea of a work to do going beyond him- 
 self; he has the idea of an universal philanthropy; 
 he has the idea of general human improvement as an 
 object to strive after, — general improvement, in the 
 very lowest view of it, of human happiness ; he has the 
 feeling of value for his word, of respect for women, 
 of self-devotion for worthy ends, and other feelings 
 of the kind, to a degree which in those times was 
 unknown. I am not now considering how he got 
 these ; he is morally the richer as having them. 
 utiiitari- As onc proof that man's moral view has become 
 
 seifS an generally more idealist, and, as I should call it, richer 
 instance of ^^^ fuller, I must confcss I regard the present form 
 of utilitarianism. If we look upon it, as it looks 
 upon itself, in the character of the representative of 
 the old Epicureanism, the difference is striking. The 
 enlarged philanthropy which now belongs to it, the 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF PROGRESS. 295 
 
 lofty ideal of a possible general human happiness, 
 the notion (most unscientific, it is true) of inter- 
 measurable qualities of happiness — these, and many- 
 things more, are elevations of view which the passage 
 of years has brought to it. And not only Epicurean- 
 ism thus, but even positivism itself, attempts to 
 make itself ideal, reintroduces in place of the old 
 theology a religion of its own, and, for activity of 
 idealism or dreams of human improvement, quite 
 disputes the palm with doctrines to which such no- 
 tions should more logically belong. 
 
 This greater elevation and fulness of man's moral This im- 
 view is not the same thing as practical moral im- of moral" 
 provement. It is of course very likely to contri- ^^gq^^t^,°y 
 bute to this latter, but how far it brings it about ?^^^^^^^ 
 depends on various circumstances. Both intellectu- improye- 
 ally and morally there is another point of great practice 
 interest for us to know besides the degree in w^hich J^^^^ ^^ 
 the collective mind may be better furnished, namely, p^^®- 
 the diffusion of this better feeling and knowledge. 
 In the most civilized countries, such change of view 
 as the advance of physical science involves, affects a 
 limited number only. When we turn to the moral 
 change, since it is in reference to the many that we 
 must speak of practical moral improvement, we can- 
 not wonder that we do not find this latter so great 
 as perhaps we should have expected. But no one, 
 I think, has doubted that there is actual improve- 
 ment to a certain extent. 
 
 Anything fit to be called an improvement of man ?^^°[em- 
 as resrards his intellio:ence, must consist not only in gence is 
 
 . PIT -i-'p shown by 
 
 a contmuous change for the better m his view of intensifi- 
 nature, but in an advance also in his manner ofweuL^by 
 conceiving things, of reasoning about them, and iHg^^/g^^^'^ 
 general of exercising his powers of thought and imagi- Thefonner 
 nation. But progress of the latter kind cannot show speda 
 
296 THE PHILOSOPHY OF PPtOGRESS. 
 
 terest as itself in the same distinct manner as prosfress of the 
 
 connecting p i • i t • • • r» • t i n i 
 
 together loimer kind. It is intensification or^ as i have called 
 andkUr ^^f greater fulness and enrichment of the already 
 kn(?w-°^ existing, rather than such change as we can readily 
 ledge. follow. Hence if change and novelty are all we are 
 interested in, it may seem like no progress; but to 
 those who think, it will involve, more than these do, 
 one element of the idea of progress or growth, namely 
 the identification of the successive stagfes in one 
 reality. Allow to the change of view, which enlarged 
 physical knowledge produces, all the interest attach- 
 ing to change of place, for instance, in our individual 
 life. So far as the collective human consciousness is 
 concerned, intelligent man may be said to live now 
 in a different physical world from that in which he 
 lived two thousand years ago : he lived then, as to his 
 imagination, in a flat plain of small extent vanishing 
 in each direction into cloud and ocean, with celestial 
 luminaries rising and setting to his view and moving 
 by quite different laws from any which concerned him 
 on earth : he lives now on a round globe, or island in 
 space, from which he looks round on other similar 
 islands, making up a universe all following the same 
 laws : it is as if he had come into another land : 
 the old exists no longer for him, except as matter of 
 history. But the improvement of his moral view 
 is a change which preserves to him the interest 
 of his old home. Though all is exalted, yet he is 
 aware that it is the same : the ideas have always 
 belonged to him, though it is only by degrees that 
 he has become distinctly conscious of them. He has, 
 in the course of his collective experience, been ex- 
 ploring the world of his own moral being ; just as, 
 physically, he has been coming to the knowledge of 
 the globe he inhabits. Or, more accurately, he has 
 been filling out and enriching the idea, which he has 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF PROGRESS. 297 
 
 always more or less had, of something different from 
 what he is, which nevertheless he has always felt he 
 might and ought to become. 
 
 There is another respect in which the improve- improve- 
 ment in man's moral view has less the appearance manV* 
 of proQ^ress than his advance in physical knowledsfe : "^'"^^ ^i®^ 
 
 J; o ^ I J ^ t> floes not 
 
 unlike the latter it does not leave behind it, as lead to 
 it goes on, regions conquered to certainty, about stration. 
 which no further discussion can arise. It remains of^which^ 
 philosophy rather than science : and hence in the the subject 
 
 . r» • • • • . ^^ the ac- 
 
 view of its opponents it is always in making, tion of free 
 nothing is ever made. Here again we come tomisrai- 
 an issue, in regard of which there seems to be no^^f^p^'j. 
 real principle upon which the different notions can losophy, 
 
 T_ TO i*i'« 1 ^ cannot 
 
 be compared. Suppose we admit that it is so, and take the 
 say that it is no fault in our eyes, and that still mithe*. 
 there is progress ; progress not linear, of which Tysicai^^ 
 we can mark the steps, but progress of intensifi- science, 
 cation, keeping and exalting the old, not leaving 
 it behind as done with : — if our adversaries do not 
 choose to allow this sort of progress, I do not see 
 that there is anything to say, except that we do. 
 Thought in the human mind (which is necessarily 
 something of a sort of conflict) and discussion (which 
 is its outward or social counterpart) are not, like war, 
 of themselves evil, and only valuable for the certainty 
 and the peace which they result in, so as to make a 
 state of unthinkingness desirable for the human mind, 
 as a state of peace is for human society : they 
 are man's business and his nature. I do not un- 
 derstand how people can have supposed that human 
 action with all its infinite complication should ever 
 be other than a subject of thought and discussion, 
 or that any assumption of single principles could 
 render such thought and discussion unnecessary. 
 I do not see how Svhat we should do' can be 
 
298 THE PHILOSOPHY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 the subject either of an exact quasi-mathematical 
 science or of an inductive quasi-physical science. 
 What we mean by the former is matter of calcula- 
 tion and measurement ; what we mean by the latter 
 is experience and observation : our duty in some 
 degree lends itself to the former, our feelings in some 
 degree lend themselves to the latter ; but in neither 
 case to such a degree that we can exhibit any match 
 to mathematical and physical progress. But does 
 any one care that we should ? Would human action 
 gain or lose in interest by being supposed purely 
 matter for mathematical and physical laws ? Is not 
 human liberty here our subject, and ought not our 
 thought about it to involve such determination of ac- 
 tion as is consistent with liberty, namely, not by laws 
 like the above, but in the way of what I have called 
 an ideal f And as we should never wish, I sup- 
 pose, to attain to such knowledge on these subjects 
 that all our actions should be done instantly and in- 
 fallibly by some evident mathematical rule, or by 
 some immediate movement of our nature without 
 thought on our part; as we would wish still to be con- 
 scious and free ; so I do not see how, till we remove 
 choice from action, we can remove doubt from thought 
 about action. In this respect consideration about 
 human action will always remain philosophy rather 
 than science. Progress here will consist, not in the 
 successive laying down one position after another, 
 but in the stronger and fuller feeling of our freedom, 
 in the feeling that we have powers, that we may do 
 work and effect purposes with them, and that, in pro- 
 portion as this is so, our action must be to us a sub- 
 ject of care and anxiety ; and next, in the forming a 
 better and fuller notion of what we may do, and 
 ought to do. 
 Lere must I^ this view a part of our notion of the improve- 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF PROGRESS. 299 
 
 ment of human nature must be an increase in it of consist 
 what I have called the ' ideal element :' in other words, the i'J '° 
 there must be a greater fulness of consciousness, aj^^^^i^^^i. 
 greater richness of imagination, and a greater earnest- ^^^^}^' 
 ness of enquiry and of effort. Something of such a 
 change has I believe taken place ; and if we wish for 
 more improvement, we must make this element of it 
 a distinct part of our aim. Probably many will agree 
 in part of what I say here, but will disagree in part, 
 thinkinof -that 'increase of the ideal element' does 
 not well describe what has taken place ; and in any 
 case that there is no increase, but a deadening, of 
 imagination, the increase such as it is being in conr 
 sciousness and in prosaic matter-of-fact earnestness. 
 This is a part of the notion of the analogy between 
 the mental growth of the race and the supposed 
 mental growth of the individual which I have more 
 than once disclaimed. It seems to me to arise, not 
 from primary and necessary, but from secondary and 
 accidental causes, that what we consider the imagina- 
 tive part of human nature grows duller as civiliza- 
 tion advances. I do not think it does so in itself, 
 and if it did, I think reason would grow weaker and 
 duller too. But there is a change in the manner of 
 appreciating the utterances of man's mind ; they are 
 received and looked at less simply ; and hence there 
 is a difference in form and outward appearance which 
 to a certain degree may make a difference in spirit, 
 but to a greater degree makes us think there is one, 
 even when there is not. 
 
 In respect of the moral portion of the ideal ele- in an in- 
 ment, it certainly seems to me that man is a higher conTdous 
 being, a higher animal, a being, if we may so speak, "retdoL 
 of higher value and importance in the universe, and and of 
 therefore also happier as capable of a higher happi- " ^' 
 ness, the more he is conscious of his free-will and 
 
300 THE PHILOSOPHY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 his powers, as well as of his being his own master 
 in disposing of them ; and the more, along with 
 this, he feels himself not at sea as to their dis- 
 posal, but is conscious of duty to direct him and of 
 an object to work for worthy of all his effort. So 
 far then as anything of this sort has taken place in 
 regard of civilized mankind, man is to be considered, 
 in this particular, improved. And so far as we wish 
 for his further improvement, and take this into our 
 view as a part of the moral object for us to work for, 
 we must do what we can that this kind of feeling 
 may grow in him ; that the ideal element, in other 
 words, may be increased ; however we may also wish 
 that other elements should be increased besides. 
 DiflBcuity Whether or not we think what human progress 
 righTcou? ^^^ been, we have our duty ; and it is very likely 
 fromThe ^^^^^ ^^^ thought of such progross may not be of 
 history of importance to it : so far as it is, we must take care 
 progress, that WO coucludo from the progress rightly ; we 
 ^i'lhe''^^ must understand our principle. Suppose we find 
 dJ?rits ' ^^^ element developing itself very largely, to the pre- 
 judice of others, is our principle to be the encourage- 
 ment of this element, on the ground of its large 
 development indicating its superior value, or rather 
 to encourage the less developed, on the ground that 
 there is value in all, and that the development of 
 the one without the other is not real improvement ? 
 It is evident that the progress itself cannot settle 
 this question, that something of an ideal of human 
 nature is necessary for the settlement of it. That the 
 progress itself can and does settle it, is what is shal- 
 lowly assumed by many. ' Physical science is the one 
 thing in which it is certain men advance, therefore 
 it is advance in physical science which is human 
 improvement.' I want to know the major proposi- 
 tion of this syllogism. The cogency of it in fact 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF PROGRESS. $01 
 
 really belongs to that logic which is now not unfre- 
 quently spoken of as the ' logique des faits :' a logic 
 which abnegates choice and ^11 that is moral in hu- 
 man nature. To aid the (so called) development of 
 human nature without a distinct view of that de- 
 velopment is really only acting in this manner. 
 
 It is indeed very hard to know" how to conclude Even the 
 from the past history of human thought, what we phLrs^of 
 ought to consider as to the proper method of human P^^ifsTto 
 thought now. The same thing applies to a certain ^e bound 
 degree in reference to the use of our intellects which suits of 
 I have mentioned in reference to our conduct ; the p^ience. 
 difficulty, namely, of judging from simple experience 
 as to anything which should be. Whether the way 
 in which man has attained his present position of 
 improvement is the best way in which he could have 
 done so ; whether again one sort of thing was better 
 in the past, but now that we are wiser something 
 else is better for the future ; — with respect to all this j. 
 
 I do not see what are the principles on which we \%y "^ 
 x/ are to found our reasoning. The very philosophers |4L'^ 
 who tell us in one breath that we are to form (or "" 
 to hope that there will be formed) from the study 
 of human experience a science which will be a true 
 and sufficient guide, nay our only possible guide, in 
 morals, in the next breath, when arguments are 
 brought from past experience against anything which 
 they propose (as, for instance, attempt at commu- 
 nistic association among men), take the very dif- 
 ferent tone of * Try again, try again ; if it is good, it 
 will be done yet:' a tone it seems to me far better 
 and more noble, being in fact the assertion of the 
 ideal against the positive, as I have described them. 
 
 Grantinsf, therefore, all the apparent resultless- Supposing 
 
 p 1 1 •! 1 1 • 1 1 1 • positivism 
 
 ness of the philosophy which has been, the question to be rigiit 
 still remains, whether we should have been where mhj^ts, 
 
 <J 
 
302 THE PHILOSOPHY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 may it not we are without it ; whether, in other words, it would 
 ture^n"^^ havo beoii better if it had not existed, and if men 
 others? j^g^^j been positivists or matter- of-factists from the 
 first. And this difficulty is one not simply in rela- 
 tion to the past, but in relation to the present. If, 
 as a matter of experience, we have been led to 
 our present happy positivist stage of thought upon 
 certain subjects through various previous stages of 
 imagination and philosophy, may not the same be the 
 road we shall have to take, if we wish to attain to 
 the same consummation of positivism on other sub- 
 jects likewise ? And may not a premature positivism 
 be just what the history of the world, as positivism 
 views it, shows to be wrong ? May not positivism 
 as it is doubtless the life of knowledge in regard of 
 application, be the death of it as regards the mind? 
 and as, when coming in its proper place, it is fruitful 
 in respect to action, may it not, in regard of specula- 
 tive fruitfulness, be as barren in one way as mere 
 imagination in another ? In traversing the wide 
 plain of knowledge, it is long before we find the 
 proper track of each kind of knowledge ; and when 
 we have found it, it is well that all our thoughts 
 should be devoted to keeping in it, and avoiding the 
 straying into imagination : but should we ever have 
 found it, without the hunting after it which arises 
 from that hunger in the mind after the reasons of 
 things, that dissatisfaction with what we know 
 already as being at all events incomplete and want- 
 ing something behind and beyond it, which is 
 really philosophy ? 
 
 In regard to all this however, even if we should 
 Question grant in theory that experience might possibly fur- 
 righ^t to"^ nish a law which should direct our actions ; still there 
 build con- remains the further question whether the particular 
 
 elusions on ^ ■• , ■*• 
 
 the present experience appealed to is long enough to guarantee 
 
man 
 
 race. 
 
 THE PHILOSOPHY OF PROGRESS. 303 
 
 such a conclusion. Mr Mill, who is really far more si^ort ex- 
 of an idealist than of a positivist, thinks that as to thrhu^ ° 
 morals the experience of the human race as yet goes 
 for very little ; that we are hardly, in time, past the 
 infancy of mankind, and that its real life is yet to 
 corned Setting aside all notion of actual historical 
 prediction, the future being to us entirely undivin- 
 able, there seems to me, in respect of what we may 
 imagine the history of the human race, much more 
 truth and interest in this view than in that which 
 would suppose man to have gone through a long ex- 
 perience, from which he has learnt much. I look with 
 pleasure upon the idea that men in some things are 
 still children, no wiser and no further advanced than 
 in the days of Homer; that the supposed expe- 
 rience from which they are averred to have learnt, 
 or to have had reason to learn, much which in my 
 view is not cheering, is very limited, and not at all 
 sufficient ground for supposing that what they have 
 thus learnt is really the fact. 
 
 In regard to physical science, we hear a great Question 
 deal about the unbounded future which lies before it, progres-^ 
 how it may indefinitely enlarge human thought, andp^y^^^^^i^^ 
 extend the sphere of human intelligence ; and appeal fcience 
 is made to the manner in which it has done so 
 during the last four hundred years. Of course there 
 is truth in this, but it is matter for consideration how 
 much. Doubtless no one can say but that at any 
 moment some unexpected physical discovery may 
 change the whole character of human thought, as to 
 some extent has happened once and again already. 
 But one or two things we do seem to know in re- 
 spect of future physical science, one or two respects 
 in which the way seems barred up against it. We 
 may be said now to know the whole surface of our 
 
 1 Util. pp. 23, 48. 
 
304 THE PHILOSOPHY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 globe, and when a little more has been done in 
 Africa and Australia, there will be no 'undiscovered 
 country' for us even to dream of visiting except 
 that which some day we shall visit all of us. We 
 know also the visible heavens with a knowledge 
 which in hind seems hardly alterable, I mean by any 
 alteration similar to that of the Newtonian dis- 
 coveries, which brought those heavens, so to speak, 
 into the same physical universe with us ; we are in- 
 sulated in our globe, and I suppose shall remain so. 
 Thus when physical science claims to itself an un- 
 bounded future of progressive elevation of human 
 thought, though we may grant it indeed a possible 
 unbounded future, for there must always be some- 
 thing more to be discovered, I am not sure whether 
 we have reason to grant it a probable future of great 
 discoveries, changing human thought, like those 
 which have been mentioned, or a progress of this 
 kind. I should not like to speak so much in the 
 dark as one must on this matter, were it not that 
 physical science is apt to claim and suppose for itself 
 this probability, and calling it ' progressiveness,' to 
 assume superiority on this ground over other kinds 
 of science supposed not progressive. 
 Anticipa- I havo Said that Mr Mill's view on this subject 
 
 progress agrccs mucli more with the moral sympathy which 
 [ong'to^^' he has with idealism than with his apparent intel- 
 Ltuo'^osi 1^^^^^^ sympathy with positivism. Anticipations of 
 tivism. a possibly long, and in any case continually improving, 
 future of the human race, though they may be at 
 this moment very much in the minds of positivists, 
 and of those whose expectation is limited to physi- 
 cal or quasi -physical science, do not seem to me pro- 
 perly to belong to that spirit. They belong rather 
 to that mingled dissatisfaction and hopefulness of 
 human nature in res^ard of itself, which I have 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF PROGRESS. 305 
 
 called idealism, the essence of which I should pro- 
 nounce to be that no experience will teach it to be 
 contented with matter of fact ; to despair, that is, 
 of seeing in things reason and purpose as well as 
 bare fact, and of being able, in regard of important 
 particulars of human nature, not only to know how 
 things go, but in some degree to make them go better. 
 
 Again, with regard to the progress of physical The actual 
 science itself, it must be remembered that while gress^oT 
 many new rules have been learnt for. regulating our Science ^ 
 method of thinking, still no such change has passed ^'^^ ^een 
 
 ,1 • 1 P 1 . 1 1 ,1 aided quite 
 
 upon the mmd 01 mankmd as need prevent the eye as much 
 of the speculator from being as fresh, his imagina- J fhe^^^^^^^ 
 tion as active, his spirit as enterprizing as in man's JouibM 
 earlier days. Take, for instance, the sfreat forward T""'^' ^ 
 
 i • • • 1 1 . 1 n by the 
 
 movement m science with which many of us con- lessons of 
 nect the name of Bacon. This was quite as much a experience, 
 deliberate rejuvenescence of the world as a result of 
 its age and experience. Granting what value we will 
 to the supposed discovery and use of new methods 
 of science owing to the proved failure of the old, it 
 still remains that the main fact as to what took place 
 then was this : that men remounted the stream of 
 time ; that from Aristotle's commentators, or the 
 Aristotle of the schools, they went to Aristotle's 
 own works, which made the first step of the pro- 
 gress, and then from Aristotle's works to Aristotle's 
 mind, putting themselves in the position of him and 
 his contemporary physical philosophers, and instead 
 of satisfying themselves with reading and building 
 upon him, investigating nature themselves as he and 
 they had investigated it. This return of the world 
 to its youthful spirit of enterprize was in reality a far 
 more important element in the fresh spring of dis- 
 covery and knowledge at that time, than any learning 
 by experience of better method. 
 
 20 
 
3o6 THE PHILOSOPHY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 The spirit The spirit of criticism of the records of humaii 
 
 ofcnti- . *- , i«i 
 
 ci8m,which experience, m order to understand them and give to 
 edwiir*' them their due value, which accompanies and helps 
 ency^to*^ to produco this tendency to return upon the past, is 
 return up- not fitlv describod by the name of scepticism, nor has 
 
 onthepast, . "^ "^ f» n ■*• i i*i 
 
 basnothing it auj rescmblance to that sort of feeling by which 
 
 sceptica pgQpjg ^g ^-j^Qy gg^ older get more matter-of-fact and 
 
 more distrustful, unlearn illusions, break idols, and 
 
 become what must be called poorer in mind, even if 
 
 in a manner wiser ^ 
 
 1 The rather abrupt introduction of the subject of 'criticism' in this 
 paragraph may be explained by a few quotations (which are given in 
 abbreviated form) from the Author's (unpublished) Review of Comte 
 and Buckle. 
 
 ' Mr Buckle agrees with M. Comte in considering that the collective 
 mind of the human race passes through the theological point of view to 
 the positive ; that a great part of the progress of science is simply this 
 liberation from theological ideas ; and that the instrument of this libera- 
 tion is a temporarily destructive principle, called by M. Comte critique, 
 by Mr Buckle scepticism' 
 
 * Such effect as the course of human movement has had upon the 
 view (we will say) of the Christian religion is of a very complicated 
 nature. There is the effect produced by time, there is the effect 
 produced by criticism, and there is the effect produced by a different 
 view of nature. No sort of attempt is made by M. Comte to analyse 
 the action of these agents/ After speaking of lapse of time and changed 
 physical view, the Author continues, ' The spirit of criticism is the same 
 thing as that which Mr Buckle calls scepticism — the disposition to 
 examine, and the indisposition to believe without examination. A main 
 purpose of Mr Buckle's book is to prove that the great agent and the 
 great fact in the world's improvement is this scepticism.' ' What really 
 takes place is in no respect an increase of the disbelieving spirit in com- 
 parison with the believing ; but the coarse and unreasoning credulity 
 and scepticism of a barbarous and ignorant state are both toned down, 
 and in some measure blended into what we may call the spirit either of 
 criticism or of discriminating belief.' 'Of course the growth of a spirit 
 of criticism makes religious evidence more difficult by bringing into con- 
 sideration all the difficulties involved in literature. With respect to its 
 literature, religion stands in face of criticism in the same uneasy and 
 continually shifting position in which we have seen that it stands in face 
 of advancing physical science. And the same pain may be given to in- 
 dividuals in this case as in that. But the history of the world gives no 
 reason to suppose that criticism in literature tends to extinguish reli- 
 gious belief — Ed. 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF PROGRESS. ^OJ" 
 
 I said a short time asro that there was no real So far from 
 
 , , . T . T 1 j_ I leading to 
 
 connection between positivism as such, and those progress, 
 anticipations of progress in which some positivists Ke^phT- 
 indulge. I will stop here for a moment to explain gj^^^^^j^^ 
 the difference between the intellectual spirit of posi- Barbarians 
 tivism and the actional principle of conservatism, positivists. 
 By positivism I mean interest in matter of fact as 
 distinguished from any judgment about the fact as 
 right or wrong, good or bad, desirable or undesirable, 
 and from any care about the reason or meaning of 
 the fact, except so far as these may be supposed to 
 be further portions of matter of fact. By conser- 
 vatism I mean an attachment to, and love for, what 
 is, and a disposition to maintain this against any 
 attempt on the part of others to alter it. This latter 
 feeling must rest upon considerations which would 
 be excluded by positivism, considerations, for in- 
 stance, of goodness or desirableness in regard to the 
 fact. Conservatism is constantly of a most ideal 
 nature ; the interest which it takes in the present or 
 actual, depends upon the association with this of 
 several notions of a most imaginative and unpositive 
 character. There may however be a merely positivist 
 conservatism arising not from any attachment for 
 the things which it seeks to preserve, but from a 
 want of faith and interest in any attempt at improve- 
 ment. Such positivist conservatives or natural posi- 
 vists (as we may call them) are abundant on the face 
 of the earth, as, for instance, the natives of an Arab 
 village, who are utterly unable to conceive what the 
 stranofer is about who comes from a far land to 
 excavate with money and toil the ruins among which 
 they have been always living. What is required in 
 order to improve them, and elevate them above the 
 condition in which they have been for the last thou- 
 sand years, is to wake an imaginative interest in 
 
 20—2 
 
308 THE PHILOSOPHY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 what to them is simply prosaic and positive, to call 
 up a feeling of faith in themselves, a hopefulness of 
 being able to bring about something of that improve- 
 ment of material condition at any rate, which even 
 to themselves would appear an object worth striving 
 after. I cannot see that the case is much altered in 
 our civilized times. If you dry up man's imagination 
 and give him no worthy object for his powers, nothing 
 to call out his hopefulness and his faith in himself, 
 he would be, in my view, as to the main part of his 
 nature, unimproving and in a state of stagnation, 
 though his physical knowledge were carried to any 
 extent to which ever new instruments and ever 
 fresh observations might carry it. And it would 
 remain to be shown by human experience, whether 
 this latter would really go on in the stagnation of the 
 other, or whether the times of the Roman empire 
 would come again. 
 Eecapitu- Briefly then to recapitulate the views which I 
 improve- havo put forward in this chapter ; the human race, 
 ment up to gQ f^^ ^g y^Q j^^v spoak without reference to Divine 
 
 this time . . . , . 
 
 has been Providenco, is m the mam master of its development, 
 idealist as cach man of his action. There is no moral logic 
 i^n^man^f if which will tcach us to conclude what should be, in 
 these dis- ^j^^ crreat featurcs of it, from what has been and 
 
 appear, he °, ,,... 
 
 will cease wliat IS : if we do so conclude, it is in the manner 
 o improve, ^^.^j^ I havo mentioned, which destroys all our 
 moral being. Man has improved as he has, because 
 certain portions of his race have had in them the 
 spirit of self-improvement, or, as I have called it, the 
 ideal element ; have been unsatisfied with what to 
 them at the time has been the positive, the matter 
 of fact, the immediately utihtarian ; have risen above 
 the cares of self and of the day ; have been imagina- 
 tive in thought, enterprising and not to be daunted by 
 any disappointment in action, and deep and earnest 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF PROGRESS. 309 
 
 in feeling. And if this is so, then continuance in 
 improvement with them must be the going on with 
 the same mass of feeling with which it has begun. As 
 man presses, so to call it, against that which resists 
 his improvement, it seems to be the fact that it is in 
 the direction of physical science that this most yields, 
 and that he makes most distinct way : but I do not 
 therefore conclude that it is in this direction alone 
 that his path of improvement lies. On the contrary, 
 if what his experience teaches him is to give up the 
 imaginativeness, the deep and unsatisfied thoughtful- 
 ness, the desire to penetrate to the reasons of things, 
 the hopefulness of becoming a worthier and higher 
 creature, which have been his main impellers thus 
 far ; if it teaches him to be content with the idea of 
 knowledge as the registering of facts, lower and 
 higher, and as what, rightly used, may benefit his 
 material condition ; if this is what he learns from 
 experience, he will, I think, cease to improve. If he 
 had acted on this principle from the first, he would 
 never have begun to improve. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 ON THE MORALITY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 'Socioio- M. CoMTE proposes, for our moral sfuide, a new 
 
 gy' (a new . i i . r. i • i • i i 
 
 name for scieiice, the suDject matter of winch is to be human 
 
 thing) may experience methodically and inductively reasoned 
 
 taiisltut^^^ • the science is to be called * sociology.' In re- 
 
 notafoun-spect of the general view of such a science, experi- 
 
 moraiity. enco, as I havo said, can give us no principle to 
 
 determine what we should do. In respect to its 
 
 particulars, such a science, the science of human 
 
 nature as it has been and is, may well be of the 
 
 utmost importance (besides its positive or scientific 
 
 value), to give content, and applicability, and reality, 
 
 to the moral ideal when formed ; but I see little use 
 
 in proclaiming it as a new science, especially when 
 
 no method is given for it. It is what man always 
 
 has been employed about : he has always been ready 
 
 to recognize that his proper study is man — himself: 
 
 and the study of the real man is the study of the 
 
 social man — ^sociology,' if we are reduced to such 
 
 a word for it. 
 
 The study Tho thing which always has prevented, and 
 
 expe"rSnce always must, I think, prevent, very much definiteness 
 
 catrn'^^ and certainty in this study, is the difficulty of finding 
 
 the fact of a principle on which to assisrn value, as we study 
 
 human . ^ ^ . , ^ . . ' , "^ 
 
 opinion, uumau experience, to human opinion, or what man 
 has thought about himself. I will set down the two 
 
THE MORALITY OF PROGRESS. 3II 
 
 extremes of view in this respect, and it will be seen 
 how wide is the interval between them. We may, 
 on the one side, make our science one of physiology 
 and elementary psycliology, investigating the differ- 
 ence in these respects between different nations of 
 men, and the change or development showing itself 
 in course of time in the same race or nation. We 
 may trace in this way what we may conceive to be 
 man's simple or natural feelings ; and, without taking 
 account of his opinion at various times about himself, 
 we may make our theory of his happiness, and of 
 what some might call his natural conduct. This is 
 one extreme. On the other hand, we may trace the 
 history of human custom or opinion simply ; for 
 man, as I have said, has always, in his own way, 
 studied himself, has had his own opinions about 
 his happiness, always variable and changing. This 
 is the other extreme. It is evident that here we 
 have two entirely distinct sciences : and not only 
 so, but there is space between them, and according 
 to the different ways of considering them, for many 
 sciences more. 
 
 As an illustration of the manner in which the Thus 
 consideration of human opinion complicates our in 
 ferences from experience we may take the following ^j^ou'J'^is 
 question : To what extent has man, in the laws and ^wn happi- 
 customs which he has at each time made for himself, been 
 
 some 
 hold that 
 man's 
 
 en- 
 
 been a good judge of his own wants, and his owutrken,™^^ 
 happiness ? This is a question which no positive °i^e''^*^i*^^* 
 science of human history or human nature could «ay in 
 possibly answer for us : for happiness, as the term per.ence 
 is here used, must be an ideal. In fact, it is a trunow"^ 
 question, our own answer to which we are pretty ^j'*^ ^^p- 
 
 ^l ' . . piness IS, 
 
 certain to carry with us beforehand into our in- jsbystudy- 
 vestigation of man's history, in any view of it. The ^opmio^^a 
 reforming utilitarians say in general, he has been fn'Som 
 
312 THE MORALITY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 andiegis- an exceedingly bad judge ^ They are answered that 
 this is at least singular : in making these laws and 
 customs man has not indeed thought of* his happi- 
 ness alone (for, more correctly in my view than the 
 utilitarians, he has taken other things into considera- 
 tion as well), but he has thought of his happiness ; 
 and considering of what intimate concern it is to 
 him, it is strange if he has so entirely failed in his 
 arrangements for it. So strongly will this be felt 
 by some, that they will very likely consider that our 
 best course, in attempting to find out from past 
 experience what is for man's happiness, will be to 
 study what actual human custom and legislation have 
 been, on the principle that these are the expression 
 of what man at each successive period has thought 
 to be his happiness, and that, so far as we go 
 upon experience alone, we can form no other notion 
 of man's happiness except as what he thinks his 
 happiness. 
 Experience To rctum howovcr to our positive science of 
 iifbits^man Dcian I ouo poiut of experiential knowledge is the 
 ^°^g^^^''^°* fact that man is in the first instance an organ- 
 Ijow are we ized beiusf or animal. So far as this, he is the 
 
 to know .° 1 ' ^ i«ir»i ' i 
 
 which gives subject Simply of a higher kind of physiology. An- 
 type?"^^ other point of no less importance is, that he is a 
 conscious, judging, self-managing animal, with a dis- 
 position to form ideals for the regulation of his 
 conduct. And here comes in the difiSculty. By 
 what process of putting together the different man- 
 ners of his living and the different stages of his 
 civilization are v/e to say what he is ? Is he most 
 what he began with, or what he has ended with? 
 what he was made, or w^hat he has made himself? 
 Is his happiness something fixed, which we may 
 deduce from the physiological and psychological 
 
 ^ Util. p. 19; &0. 
 
THE MORALITY OF PROGRESS. 313 
 
 conditions of his being ; or is it at each time what, 
 in the various changes of opinion, he thinhs his 
 happiness ? 
 
 Notliinof is so easy as inconclusivism, or scepticism, "^^ ^^*«' 
 
 o J ^ ' 1 ^ ' rogeneous 
 
 or intellectual despair, at the view of the complica- observa- 
 tion and difficulty of human nature ; and it is not constitute 
 in the least to encourage this that I speak. There ^o\^°^'"^g^^ 
 is a unity amonsf men in spite of the infinite indi- themselves 
 
 •^ , *-^ , •■■ . into a 
 
 vidual variety, and there is such a thing as know- science: 
 ledge of man (though the phrase is often misused to different 
 express a very partial experience or a very sub- ^^^"^^^^^^^^ 
 ordinate aptitude); and the three thousand years of^^^^fo', 
 the putting forth of man's nature, which constitute ject matter 
 
 1 1 • ■ • 1 • 1 J J • caunot be 
 
 our present historical experience, ought to give us combined 
 further materials for judging what he is than were J^*Jj?^"^ * 
 attainable at an earlier period. He is at least allp^ncipie. 
 that he has been, however much more he may be 
 in ideal and in possibility. Still, in the face of the 
 difficulties I have mentioned, there seems to be no 
 use in talking about a science of social man. A 
 multitude of heterogeneous observations massed toge- 
 ther (and what we call history is nothing more) will 
 not digest themselves into a science about man, any 
 more than about nature. But we may, and even 
 must, think about these things, and may have some- 
 thing surely of principle and method in our manner of 
 thinking about them. Again, a quantity of particular 
 sciences have formed themselves about man, along 
 a scale involving more and more of his opinion about 
 himself Physiology or medical science treats of his 
 corporeal well-being ; economics of the provisions for 
 this ; various forms of political and social science of 
 the manner in which he must organize himself for 
 the purpose of aiding his well-being, corporeal and 
 mental ; the theory of legislation treats of the de- 
 tailed customs and laws which will best conduce 
 
314 THE MORALITY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 to this ; jurisprudence and historical politics, of the 
 manner in which man has, in practice, judged of 
 what he wanted, legislated for it, and governed him- 
 self; the history of literature, philosophy, and science, 
 of the manner in which man has thought, reasoned^ 
 and come to know ; the history of civilization, of 
 the manner in which he has struggled after, and 
 partially succeeded in, progress or self-improvemenfc. 
 Now these sciences, put together, make a mere chaos 
 unless we have some principles on which to judge 
 of our nature. Though we cannot put them together 
 to make one science of man, we may perhaps so far 
 correlate them as to think and reason with con- 
 sistency, and find some common ground on which 
 mind can meet with mind. 
 Though While therefore, with respect to the proposed 
 
 there can . n • i i • i i 
 
 be no sin- scicnco ot socioiogy, there is no appearance at present 
 o/socir"^^ ^f ^ny method for it, or of any such prospective 
 &t^*'^^ view of it as would warrant our calling it a single 
 tempt to science, or giving it a distinctive name, yet the 
 these attempt to give it a unity may be of value if it helps 
 scfjlITe"* to correlate the various sciences above mentioned, 
 may be Thoro is ccrtaiuly much truth in M. Comte's remarks 
 
 ustjiul as ... 
 
 checking on the disadvantage arising from the specialization of 
 dencyto the vaHous sciences, and the increasing difficulty of 
 ciluzatfon : forming, and indisposition to form, large and general 
 views. What he says in this respect mainly in 
 reference to the physical sciences may be considered 
 to have force also in reference to the sciences which 
 concern social man. If in regard to the former the 
 division of intellectual labour, taken by itself and 
 unconnected, is often likely to lead to bad results, it 
 is likely it will lead to worse in regard to the sciences 
 of which I have just spoken, inasmuch as these 
 appeal more to a man's whole mind, and make a 
 demand upon his good sense and his judgment,. 
 
THE MORALITY OF PROGRESS. 315 
 
 in a manner rendering narrowness of view, and 
 partialness of mental cultivation, specially preju- 
 dicial. 
 
 The great mass of past literature is a record of and, com- 
 man, and may be said to consist of an infinite these 
 number of observations already made about him, the mass 
 which do digest themselves, more or less, in the J^^^^p^J^j.^ 
 intelligent mind into something which may be called may aid us 
 a view of human life. We may hope to make this intelligent 
 view, as taken by men in general, more reasonable : human life. 
 and all the sciences which have man for their object, 
 such as those which I have above mentioned, may 
 both aid this reasonableness, and be aided by it. 
 But how this kind of knowledge (which must be 
 most intimate to us, and closely connected with 
 everything which we think) is to become a definite 
 and separate science, I do not see. 
 
 Supposing:, however, that we have thus srot a when we 
 
 n 1 TP PI • 11* have thus 
 
 notion of human life, of what man is, the business leamtwhat 
 
 /» ,.. ., 1 , liJ man is, the 
 
 01 morals is, m my view, to endeavour to exalt and business 
 ennoble it, that is, to apply to it the kind of im- -^^""^^^^ 
 provement of which it is susceptible, and which what he 
 
 IT ., . p* 11 1 sf^ould be, 
 
 belongs to it; the notion oi improvableness andtourgehim 
 improvement being, as I have said, given us by the provemTnt. 
 ideal part of our nature, by our tendency not only to 
 observe and learn what is, but to think what might 
 be and what should be. What is improvement, 
 and what otherwise, is then of course the question 
 which arises. It appears to me that we have got 
 some little way towards settling this question, first, 
 in admitting the idea of improvement, that is, in 
 considering that ethics is not simply a positive 
 science of investigation, but that, besides and beyond 
 this, it is the art of worthy life ; that it makes, and 
 does not merely find : and second, if we disallow the 
 notion that the mere progress or change of the human 
 
31 6 THE MORALITY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 race, supposing we are able to know wliat it is, is of 
 itself necessarily improvement. 
 And this What then is improvement ? The utilitarian 
 
 improve- i . . . . , , . i 
 
 mentmust auswors that it IS increase m human happiness, and 
 Smitedto ^^^^ therefore utilitarianism is the true morality of 
 ri^n^im^ progress and affords the only real test of progress. 
 provement But important as is the utilitarian consideration of 
 ness. ^^ conduciveness to happiness, it is still not the only 
 one which we must take into account. Man is in a 
 better state (by which I mean a state more ideally to 
 be desired for him), if he is happier, for one thing ; but 
 besides this, if he more desires worthy objects and 
 more worthily employs his powers, if he is more faith- 
 ful, more fair, more mindful of service rendered him, 
 more kind and more loving. If all these things are 
 alike improvement in him, alike desirable for him, 
 why should it be said, as the utilitarian says, that 
 all of them except the first, happiness, are only good 
 or desirable in virtue of their rendering others hap- 
 pier ? Because they have really greater goodness 
 and value than happiness (being desirable not only 
 for the sake of the man v>^ho has them, but for the 
 sake also of others whose happiness is increased by 
 them), are they therefore to have less credit than 
 happiness, and is their additional goodness, their 
 value in producing something valuable beyond them- 
 selves, to be counted their only goodness and 
 value ? 
 Uon^does That mau's happiness is increased by his civiliza- 
 
 not so tion and by his living in society, is only one portion, 
 one view, of the reason why it is well that he should 
 do so. That his happiness is increased, we may 
 doubtless say ; but it would be more proper to say, 
 that it is elevated in its character ; he lives, or may 
 live, in society and civilization, with a fuller, a 
 higher, a better life than could have been his in 
 
 elevate. 
 
THE MORALITY OF PROGRESS. 317 
 
 a state of barbarism. The feelings of mutual regard 
 and respect, which belong to a state of civilization 
 and of law, are valuable not only as promotive of 
 general pleasure, but also as adding a new dignity 
 to human nature. Man's happiness may be much 
 more truly described as lying in that society with 
 his fellow men of which law and justice and mutual 
 trust are the condition, and in the development of 
 his own nature which is only possible in such society, 
 than in anything which can be called a distinct pro- 
 duct of this association. The association is valuable, 
 not as the minister of such and such pleasures, but 
 in itself, for its own sake. 
 
 I really do not see how, in regard of their great Estimates 
 features, different societies can be compared together, hlppinlTs* 
 with any hope of agreement or conviction, as to the ^uadoua 
 amount of happiness which they produce. Com- i" compar- 
 paring, for example, our English civilization and an ent dviu- 
 Eastern civilization in which for the time there EngUsh^^* 
 happens to be an orderly and settled government, ^^^^^x . 
 but in which there is no enterprize, no education, in 
 which women are shut up, and other customs exist 
 altogether alien from our notions ; I should feel much 
 more satisfied in considering that, in the absence of 
 the animation and the interest and the calling out 
 of feeling which our state produces, the life lived 
 under such circumstances was but half a life, and 
 must therefore be attended by an inferior happiness, 
 than I should feel able to compare the happinesses 
 by themselves, and pronounce that there was less in 
 the one case than in the other. I feel unable to 
 abstract happiness, in the way that utilitarian com- 
 parison requires, from the feeling about it of the 
 person whose happiness we are speaking of If he 
 finds a Turkish happiness in quiescence and inertia, 
 opium and the sight of dancing girls, I cannot see 
 
3I& THE MORALITY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 who is to gainsay him : nor can I see how Mr Mill's^ 
 
 test.of comparison, the judgment of intelligent people 
 
 who have tried different alleged kinds of happiness, 
 
 is ever to be applied. Under these circumstances 
 
 • I should hesitate to put the case in the utilitarian 
 
 way, that the Englishman is happier than the Turk, 
 
 and therefore that his civilization is better as having 
 
 produced such happiness. I think we might with 
 
 more confidence say that the Englishman is more 
 
 of a man than the Turk, lives with a higher human 
 
 life, lives more in others as well as in himself, and 
 
 with his own self more brouofht out, lives therefore 
 
 with a higher and worthier happiness — with a greater 
 
 happiness we might doubtless say, but I should 
 
 hesitate to make much depend on saying so till 
 
 I understood better how to gauge or measure 
 
 happiness, 
 
 and in To sliow the fallaciousncss of this notion, that 
 
 d1spi"tfd subjecting moral questions to the test of utility pro- 
 
 3fsoci^r P^^^y applied would be not only a correct, but a 
 
 Thuf'*^* ^^^^Jy ^^J ^f settling them, and produce speedy 
 
 slavery is concurrenco in the settlement' ; we may take any 
 
 against^ quostiou of the larger morality, or of what can be 
 
 ff^ikfd called human improvement, of interest at the present 
 
 opinion on day, for instance, slavery. It seems to me that the 
 
 utilitarian '^ ' ^ *^« .,. . . . 
 
 grounds; application 01 the test of utility or happiness is just 
 that which tends to lengthen out the discussion most, 
 and give least prospect of an end to it. Setting 
 aside the question whether utility is the correct prin- 
 ciple, and only asking whether it is a ready and 
 convincing one, it is certainly at this moment the 
 principle upon which slavery would be defended ; 
 while yet I suppose we may say that the opinion 
 of civilized man has come to the conclusion, nearly 
 
 1 See above, p. 47 seq. 
 
 2 gee above, p. 245 seq.; and compare UtiL pp. 81 — 87. 
 
THE MORALITY OF PROGRESS. 3 10 
 
 universal, that slavery is wrong, and that the non- 
 existence of it would be a step of human improve- 
 ment. Utilitarianism seems just what, in the way of 
 argument, hinders the settlement of a question which 
 man's moral feeling would otherwise have settled. 
 It is said that the slaves are happier as they are 
 than they would be if free ; and the putting the 
 question upon this issue makes it more difficult to 
 decide, and gives more scope for persistence of 
 opinion in the opposite direction, than almost any 
 other. Of course the supposition made by Mr Mill, 
 that all men are to be treated equally, would settle 
 the question : this, as I have said' before, is not 
 utilitarianism, but an adoption of a foreign principle 
 for the purpose of making utilitarianism tolerable : 
 that it is not utilitarianism is evident from its in- 
 consistency with the really utilitarian argument 
 above. Genuine utilitarianism only makes the 
 question hopelessly discussible ; there must be a 
 reference to something besides utilitarianism (even 
 within professed utilitarianism itself) to give hope 
 of settling it. 
 
 Improvements of man's moral view seem always as also on 
 to have arisen, and probably must arise, from the ^JStivist 
 mixture of an idealism, often rather confused, with ^j^^"^^^; 
 positivism or the view of fact. This latter offers ^^r human 
 moral difficulties over which the former more or less such, being 
 triumphs. For example, the difficulty offered to ^^"^^^'^^'• 
 morals, in the view of fact, by the existence of man- 
 kind in so many different states of development, or 
 in something not unlike distinct species, relatively 
 superior and inferior, is very great. I have men- 
 tioned how, in the case of slavery, utilitarianism 
 seems to offer no means of settling the question of 
 right and wrong, and no help towards (what I should 
 
 ^ See above, p. 88, seq. 
 
320 THE MORALITY OP PROGRESS. 
 
 call) improvement of human view in the matter : 
 and just as slavery is very likely to fortify itself on 
 grounds of utilitarianism, so it is very likely to do 
 so on grounds of science or positivism. If it be 
 once considered that a moral conclusion can be 
 drawn from the fact of the negroes being, or not 
 being, generically of the same race as white men, 
 slavery is really strengthened by putting the ques- 
 tion on this basis ; as it will always be possible to 
 make much of the particulars, as to matter of fact, in 
 which the two descriptions of men differ. The real 
 force of the feeling against slavery lies in the idea, 
 to whatever extent it takes possession of people's 
 minds, that, even in the lowest races of men, mind 
 and reason are developed to such an extent as to take 
 them out of the category of the brute animals, whom 
 man appropriates to his use, and who live, so far 
 as he can master them, for his benefit ; that beings in 
 whom consciousness, will, and reason exist, as they 
 do in anything bearing the shape of man, have a 
 right to be considered really men, and to live for 
 their own benefit, not, compulsorily, for the benefit 
 of others. I consider the force of this feeling to lie 
 rather in the idealism than in the amount of posi- 
 tive knowledge which it involves, for this reason : 
 what has increased it has been, not so much our 
 coming more and more to the knowledge, as I sup- 
 pose we have done, that man does not (as a friori 
 we might have supposed) shade off into the brutes 
 in such a manner as to leave it doubtful with regard 
 to certain races whether they should be classed 
 with the former or with the latter ; but rather 
 the stronger development in ourselves of value for 
 our human nature — a development whicli is quite 
 independent of any positive knowledge about the 
 extent of the genus man. Christianity and civili- 
 
THE MORALITY OF PROGRESS. 32 1 
 
 zation both tend strongly to increase this, and in this 
 way to nourish the feehng opposed to slavery. 
 
 It seems to me that the civilized feeling of naan So utiuta- 
 tends thus more and more to the adoption, into the and posi- 
 full rights of manhood, even of the most backward ^i[J'J^^, 
 and least endowed specimens of the human race. It *» fu'"ish 
 may be interesting for a moment to compare this satisfac- 
 tendency with the course of human feeling in respect aTcel" to 
 to the brute animals. Mr Mill, in the passage where mTnfofthe 
 he says that the happiness which is in the last in- inferior 
 
 . ^ *■ . . 1 n -I 11 animals. 
 
 stance to determine our action is ' that 01 the whole 
 sentient creation V evidently speaks with full signi- 
 ficance. There is no doubt that we ought to be 
 described as in society with the brute animals ; that, 
 since they have wants and are susceptible of pleasures, 
 and we have sufficient knowledge of them to be 
 able to feel sympathy with them and pity for them, 
 we have duties towards them, and they, if we like 
 so to express ourselves, rights as against us. The 
 history of human feeling in regard to them is a 
 curious subject of investigation : it is interesting in 
 regard of the relation between the ideal and the 
 positive in morals; and it is most eminently practical, 
 inasmuch as the difference of view in this respect is 
 one great cause of estrangement between one portion 
 and another of the human race. Without concluding 
 that the course which things have taken is, neces- 
 sarily and as such, the right one, it is to be observed 
 that, as a matter of fact, civilization, while it has 
 tended within certain limits to bring out the idea of 
 consideration for the inferior animals, has not at all 
 tended to confirm and ratify that exceeding develop- 
 ment of the idea which we find in some portions of 
 the human race. And, looking at them abstractly, 
 on what moral principle or theory are we to settle 
 
 1 UHl. p. 17. 
 
 21 
 
32 2 THE MORALITY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 the question between a Hindoo and an European 
 as to the universal sacredness of life ? I do not see 
 that utilitarianism gives us any help : I do not, in 
 fact, see any single principle on which such a ques- 
 tion can be decided. It seems to me to be settled 
 on no other principle than this (if it is to be called 
 one), that the improvement and elevation of human 
 life which, speaking generally, we understand by the 
 name of civilization, cannot take place without such 
 an use of the inferior animal creation by man as 
 in many cases to involve their destruction. Man, it 
 may be said to begin with, is positively and physio- 
 logically a carnivorous animal ; but this would not 
 in my view settle the question, if there were any 
 reason to suppose that he would be a higher animal 
 if he were not carnivorous, or that his ceasing to be 
 so would be any improvement as to the better 
 part of his nature. It does not appear however that 
 such human improvement as we have seen has been 
 associated with any tendency in this direction. 
 Here too Tho above illustration will show that, in speaking 
 
 iontidera- of man as distinguished from the inferior animals, 
 tionsmust ^.^ }x8^,YQ to bring in another consideration besides 
 ^'i'a- that of happiness, the consideration, namely, of im- 
 duty, provement; which is in fact that of reason working 
 binds man as it should. Othorwise, if we put our action upon 
 S'sowJf*''^^^ ground of happiness alone, we seem to find no 
 kind, of ira- reason why the happiness of man should be preferred 
 lity, which to that of the animals. Of course the utterly vague 
 distinctive utilitarian notion of quantity of happiness may be so 
 attribute, explained as to settle this question : but in general, 
 something of a dread lest in this manner our regard 
 for the happiness of man should be diminished, or 
 made less distinctively clear, has caused a jealousy 
 of the regard shown, by Bentham for instance, to 
 the happiness, and what he considered the rights, 
 
 enter in 
 
 C()nsi( 
 
 tions 
 
THE MORALITY OF PROGRESS. 323 
 
 of animals ^ Happiness, as I have said throughout, 
 is but 07ie thing to be considered in the matter. 
 Each species of animal has a physical sympathy with 
 its own kind : this exists in reasonable man as a 
 reasonable sympathy, or real mutual intelligence and 
 regard, and in social and improved man it exists in 
 a higher form still, as mutual and understood duty. 
 We value man above the animals on account of our 
 greater mutual intelligence with him arising from 
 our common nature, and on account of our special 
 duty towards him, in the same way as within the 
 human race we have a special duty to our own 
 family. But as reasonable beings with wide and 
 general view, we should be above the merely generic 
 sympathy which in the animals confines the interest 
 of each to its own congeners. Only that here comes 
 in the further and ultimate consideration on the sub- 
 ject, that, namely, of the improvability of man, and 
 the consequent importance of his possible destinies. 
 If there were any prospect that we could by train- 
 ing really elevate the nature of one of the inferior 
 races of animals, and bring it to reasonableness and 
 morality like that of man — if any of them were im- 
 provable like him — the case would then be different 
 between such a race and man. But the gap between 
 the other animals and man remains as it was : and 
 with all the training which we can give to specialties 
 in the understanding (for so it is) of some races of 
 the brutes, we evidently can make no improvement 
 in their nature as we understand improvement of 
 man s nature. This is the real distinction between 
 what we call rational and irrational creatures. 
 
 The relation of human improvement to the dif- pifficuitiea 
 ferent races of men, and the difficulty introduced into of human 
 
 ^ See "Whewell, Lectures on the History of Moral Philosophy^ 
 p. 236, ed. 1862. 
 
 21—2 
 
324 THE MORALITY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 improve- moral Considerations by this difference, are matters 
 
 ment aris- 1 • i 1 ^ i r» i 
 
 ing from wiiich prcss themselves ever more and more tor ward 
 of>17eras with the advance of human experience. By this 
 to capacity time, if ever, we ouofht to know certain positive facts 
 
 of civiliza- ' '^ «3 .^ iiri 
 
 tion; as to this difference of races ; but it seems doubtful 
 what we do know. 'W e ought, for instance, to know 
 whether some races are strong and persistent, so as 
 to spread and prevail over others (as might be sup- 
 posed of the European and Negro races), others 
 weak and impersistent, so as to yield to others and 
 die out (as might be supposed of the American In- 
 dian and Australian races) ; what relation capability 
 of civilization, so far as we can judge of it, has to 
 such strength and persistency ; whether there are 
 different sorts of civilization, or whether there is 
 but one which offers prospect of continual improve- 
 ment. About such questions as these, and many 
 like them, it seems to me we might know something 
 positive ; but I rather doubt whether we do. 
 
 as to the The oartli, we may say, is now one place 
 
 association . , . . . .', r»ii • •^^ i 
 
 ofthemorem the imagmatiou or mmd ot the civilized races 
 civtuzed upou it ; they live, in their own particular part, as 
 races. citizcus of the wholc of it, acquainted now (very 
 nearly) with each separate portion, and enjoying the 
 productions of the whole of it by means of commerce. 
 But the earth is far from being one 'civitas' or 
 society of men in fact, and even, apparently, from 
 tending to become so; and this, not so much result- 
 ing from physical fact relating to the earth, such as 
 for instance climate, as from fact connected with man- 
 kind itself, namely, the unassociativeness of different 
 races of man ; or in other words, from the fact that 
 that union and blending of different races of man, 
 which hitherto and within limits has been a main 
 agent of human improvement, seems no longer so, 
 now that the field is widened and races more widely 
 
THE MORALITY OF PROGRESS. 325 
 
 different have to come tosrether. The road of in- 
 creasing association and stronger brotherly feeling 
 between the different portions of the human race 
 seems to break off from the road of general human 
 improvement. No one I think can consider the 
 prospect of the future of the human race in this 
 respect satisfactory. Are the races of highest civi- 
 lization doomed only to exterminate, with wretched 
 accompaniments of vice and degradation, the w^eak 
 uncivilized races like the North American and the 
 Australian; to rule over and oppress the weak civi- 
 lized races like the Hindoos and Chinese, wdthout 
 entering into real association with them ; and to 
 live in an association which is worse than none, in 
 the relation of master and slave, with the strong 
 uncivilized races like the Negro ? With this prospect 
 is there anything for these higher civilized races 
 tliemselves but what I may call a choice of manner 
 of degeneracy ? either the physical degeneracy (what- 
 ever it is) which may result from amalgamation, or 
 the moral degeneration which must arise from an 
 unnatural, and (in the truest sense of the word) an 
 inhuman character of association ? 
 
 Besides the difficulty arising to the consideration Difficulties 
 of human improvement from the existence of various fvonTfhe 
 races of men, there arises another from the variety ^^''Ty. 
 of employments, and from the apparent necessity ments of 
 of great economical pressure in parts of the society, existence 
 before men will be found ready to undertake some •"„ dv^uzJa 
 of these. If we speak of man in general, it is pro- 
 bable, as I have said, that the physical or economical 
 conditions of his being are, at any rate, not harder 
 than those of other animals. For the purpose of 
 such comparison we must of course suppose him 
 to a certain degree organized in society and civi- 
 lized ; otherwise if we look at him as not thus 
 
 commuui- 
 ties. 
 
326 THE MORALITY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 organized, he appears worse off, physically and econo- 
 mically, than other animals ; which is perhaps the 
 case with such races as the blacks in Australia. But 
 though civilized man, as a race and on the whole, 
 cannot be said to live under hard economical con- 
 ditions of existence, yet civilization has always 
 hitherto left portions of the civilized communities 
 under these conditions. The existence of poverty in 
 rich communities is an unhappy spectacle, from which 
 time does not seem to free us : and it is one which 
 preeminently calls, in the contemplation of it, whether 
 by rich or by poor, by the philosopher or by the man 
 of action, for that sort of ofood sense and absence of 
 partiality of view, the encouragement of which seems 
 to me the best service which moral philosophy can 
 render to mankind. The constitution of human 
 society is an easy thing to make paradoxes about, or 
 to despair about, or to rail about ; but it is not an 
 easy thing to think sensibly about, putting together 
 the various considerations which ought, for a proper 
 view, to be brought together. Since it is what man 
 in the course of his movement has come to, as the 
 result of a great deal of effort after self-improvement, 
 it must, we may perhaps conclude, have much in it 
 that is necessary, and much that is good : but since 
 man has an idea of something further which he 
 would wish to be, and has very great powers of 
 making himself such, we may with still more cer- 
 tainty conclude that there is much in it which is 
 changeable for the better or improvable. And we 
 may at least try to come to something like clear- 
 ness of thought as to these respective portions of 
 the constitution of society, 
 utiiita- Utilitarianism derives some of its strengrth, often 
 
 nanism. o > 
 
 nanism, 
 
 aiming at indeed tacitly (by which I mean not necessarily as 
 
 the imme- ... iii i*i i 1 • 
 
 diate relief it IS cxpouuded by philosophers, but as it presents 
 
THE MORALITY OF PROGRESS. 327 
 
 itself to people's minds), from the view of the evident oi the 
 
 n 1 r»i I'lii* L naost press- 
 
 urgency 01 human want, or whatever kind this want ing wants, 
 
 may be. Can we act for anything else than human hap- oVforgef-^'^ 
 piness, it is asked, when even those portions of happi- *^^° ^^^j^"* 
 ness, the value of which is allowed by all, are so defi- ing but 
 cient, so little enjoyed by many ? All must respect and portant, 
 sympathize with this feeling, but the indulgence of it checking^ 
 belongs to that partiality of view which, I have said, ^^^^^''^^^^^ 
 we ought not to yield to. A feeling of this kind pre- humanity. 
 vailing too strongly at any stage of human improve- 
 ment, would very greatly check the course of that 
 improvement. Those wants of human nature which 
 force themselves at once on our view, and which we 
 can at once do something to relieve, would then 
 absorb our thoughts, to the prejudice of such as were 
 less immediately prominent, and were less susceptible 
 of immediate relief; though these latter might be 
 full as important, and as really, in the end, remedi- 
 able. Besides the immediate and palpable wants of 
 man, there is what may be described as a vast mass 
 of want in respect of man's mind, imagination, and 
 feelings, and there is also the great want of moral 
 elevation and improvement. These wants are all 
 the more real for the ideal element they involve ; 
 for their being rather want in the sense of ab- 
 sence of what should be, than want in the sense of 
 desiredness. Man, in the course which he has 
 gone through, has in fact acted very much in the 
 direction of these wants as well as of those which 
 are more palpable. But he has done this in the 
 main by the exercise of those parts of his nature 
 which are independent of the desire of happi- 
 ness. Human nature in general has increased its 
 happiness, in the same way as we shall each one 
 of us best increase ours, by not tliinking too much 
 about it, by not being too utilitarian. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 ON THE CLAIM OF UTILITARIANISM TO BE THE MORALITY 
 OF PROGRESS. 
 
 [ We have now seen three ways in which utili- 
 tarianism puts itself forward as the Morality of Pro- 
 gress ; first of all, on the ground of its method, as 
 being based on the modern inductive philosophy ; 
 secondly, as giving their true meaning to the words 
 'progress/ 'improvement,' 'civiHzation,' and supply- 
 ing to these both a guiding principle and a standard 
 by which they may be tested; thirdly, as the repre- 
 sentative of positivism in respect of its getting rid 
 of theological and mystical ideas, and making man 
 his own sole object. The two former claims have 
 been treated of in previous chapters; in this chapter 
 the author, after speaking shortly of the third claim, 
 proceeds to examine a fourth claim, which may 
 be considered to be especially put forward by Mr 
 Mill in favour of his own neo-utilitarianism, on the 
 ground of its connexion with the idea of equality.^] 
 Human The tendency of a portion of philosophy, at pre- 
 
 supposed sent, is to make human happiness distinct before us, 
 phiiosT ^^ ^^® ^^^ ^^^ ^^^y worthy purpose of human action : 
 i-heis to or perhaps, endeavourinsf to associate with itself the 
 
 have learnt . . , , 
 
 that it religious sentiment, to make humanity or human 
 itself its nature the object of our worship. No doubt history 
 
 ^ This paragraph is added by the editor. 
 
THE CLAIM OF UTILITARIANISM, &C. 329 
 
 and experience have given to human nature, in this own object 
 age of the world, a distinct notion of itself as exist- and even 
 ing on earth, and of the earth on which it exists, ""^ '^°'^*''P' 
 which was not possessed at earlier periods. We 
 may figure this to ourselves under the form of a 
 developed self-consciousness on the part of human 
 nature, analogous to the fuller and freer self-con- 
 sciousness which shows itself in the grown man, as 
 he becomes more and more aware of his own work 
 and position, and of the relation between himself and 
 things around him. But if it is a fact, in relation to 
 individual men, that as they grow in years, and 
 become wider of view, and freer, as to thought, from 
 the ties and the limits with which ignorance sur- 
 rounds them, they become more and more their own 
 object, and live more and more only for themselves, 
 it is at any rate a fact sad to acquiesce in, and which 
 we need not consider bound upon us by any duty ; 
 and if again anything analogous to this takes place 
 in regard of the human race in general, I should 
 only say, so much the worse. To swim with the 
 stream may be easy, but there is nothing to show 
 that it is our duty to do so, and supposing our duty 
 to lie in the opposite direction, our task is only made 
 the harder. Is it the fact then that such is the 
 natural course of development in the general feeling 
 of mankind ? Let us see. 
 
 In respect to everything of this kind there is a But this is 
 self-will edness, so to call it, in the natural sentiment out by^the 
 of men, very difficult to follow, but which it is foolish JeXg of 
 not to take notice of. I think however that it may "^en : they 
 be safely affirmed that the morality which talks most satisfied 
 about consulting the happiness of others, is not that philosophy 
 which as a fact human nature has felt that it wanted ?T?"°^ V^"^^ 
 
 them aim 
 
 most. Even the acting on principle with constant exclusively 
 effort for the happiness of others, is not a kind of own hap- 
 
330 THE CLAIM OF UTILITARIANISM 
 
 noTeven ^enevolence which, when we get past the simple 
 with the benevolence of meat, drink, and raiment, men are 
 py which very ready to appreciate. The consulting the happi- 
 produce it. -"^^^^ of othcrs is not kindness itself, but is a result 
 of it: love or kindness has in the first instance no 
 other reference to happiness, than as happiness be- 
 longs to the actual feeling of love and the thought 
 of what is loved. It is only as associated with real 
 warmth of feeling and with self-denial that professed 
 philanthropy has ever made that character which 
 men have at all times revered, and been almost dis- 
 posed to worship. 
 They wish The natural feeling of mankind on this point 
 b?what° ^® much the same as in the case of affection : people 
 they can j^q\^q pleasuro iu those whom they love thinkinsr of 
 
 themselves *■ ... 
 
 love ; they them, and consulting their happiness, but they are 
 giveh^p- often more pleased when the pleasing of them is 
 wTifas^^ spontaneous, without effort or intention to please 
 to receive them : WO Want not only that others should love us, 
 but that they should be what we ourselves like and 
 love : we want to love as well as to be loved, to 
 give pleasure as well as to receive it. And so human 
 nature, it appears to me, as a matter of fact wants 
 to have its good men not entirely occupied with the 
 thought of pleasing it and making it happy : it wants 
 to look up to them and to love them for other 
 reasons than the benefit received from them : it will 
 be more pleased, in some respects, when their pleas- 
 ing it is a result of their being what they are than 
 a result of their effort to do it good. 
 
 We come round in this respect to what I have 
 said before, namely that though, if we are to give a 
 meaning to the term happiness, we may mean by it 
 all that man wants, yet if we suppose the word hap- 
 piness to have an independent meaning of its own, 
 it is merely misleading to say that all that man 
 
TO BE THE MORALITY OF PROGRESS. 331 
 
 wants is happiness. He wants much besides. The old 
 way of expression is, that the two moving principles 
 of human nature are the love of pleasure and the 
 love of action : anyhow there is something besides 
 the love of pleasure or of anything that can be 
 understood as happiness. Utilitarians say that the 
 love of action is not for the sake of the action itself, 
 but for the sake of the happiness towards which it 
 is directed. But in the same manner it might be 
 said that the love of pleasure, in an active nature 
 like that of man, is not of the pleasure alone, but 
 of gaining the pleasure, of success in the attain- 
 ment of the object. The best form in which the 
 utilitarian theory can probably be put, is to say that 
 man's moving principles are, first, the love of his 
 own pleasure, and then the love of that of others ; 
 the former being the animal or merely natural 
 principle, the other, the moral and elevated one ; 
 but this does not state the whole fact as it is. For 
 man's moral love of the pleasure of others has asso- 
 ciated with it, more or less, the love of being him- 
 self the author of that pleasure : his moral happiness 
 is in consulting, in giving pleasure to others, as his 
 simply natural happiness is in being consulted, in 
 himself enjoying. 
 
 Happiness is a very self-willed thiner. If the Humaa 
 utilitarian will tell man what he really wants, will half em- 
 interpret man's happiness to himself, he will do him hatrde- 
 indeed a service. Here ao^ain we come round to ^P'^^^^jjf. 
 
 o own utili- 
 
 what I have said before, that we can only explain tarianism. 
 human happiness to the extent that we understand 
 human nature. In this respect, so far as the study 
 is serious and real, it is the same thing whether we 
 study human nature, which is our real subject, under 
 the name and form of investigating what is man's 
 happiness, or in some other name and form, as of 
 
332 THE CLAIM OP UTILITARIANISM 
 
 analysing man's emotional or moral nature. But this 
 nature of ours, however we study it, seems either to 
 look to much besides happiness, or if we prefer so to 
 express it, to find happiness in the strangest and most 
 various ways. Human nature is to a certain degree 
 utilitarian itself, but it is a very bad disciple of 
 utilitarian philosophy. It half embraces, half de- 
 spises, its own utilitarianism : it looks to philosophy 
 as to what it hopes may raise it above that : philoso- 
 phical utilitarianism disappoints it : it takes strange 
 pleasure in what makes no profession of adding to 
 its happiness. As the people of Athens (and in fact 
 people in general are not indisposed to do the same) 
 would often most perversely listen rather to the 
 statesmen who disdained to humour it, than to the 
 demagogues who most loudly professed to make its 
 pleasure their sole object ; so it is with human nature 
 and the philosophies which do not, and which do, 
 set before it as its only object itself and its own 
 pleasure. 
 Positivist This latter kind of philosophy, in various forms 
 
 utilitarian- . f\* -r\ ' > i-in 
 
 ism says 01 language, says m enect, JJurmg its childhood and 
 hasout^-'^ youth human nature, imperfectly acquainted with 
 fmagrna-^ the uaturo of things about it, and consequently but 
 tionswhe- imperfectly conscious of itself, owing to want of 
 logical or grouud on which to project such consciousness, has 
 ^i,Tnd^' filled up the gap with all sorts of dreams, imagina- 
 must now ^ions, and chimeras, of better moral natures than its 
 
 confine his ' ^ ^ ' ^ 
 
 thoughts own which it might possibly be able to make itself 
 ingstothe attain to, of other forms of moral being besides itself, 
 spherrof and other conceivable spheres of existence. As it 
 ^^^' has grown on in experience and knowledge, all this 
 
 has become fainter to its view, which is now confined 
 to the knowledge of itself and its own physical and 
 actual circumstances of existence ; to employ its ac- 
 tion and its powers of thought, there is left this alone. 
 
TO BE THE MORALITY OF PROGRESS. 333 
 
 Human nature has outgrown the more phenomenal 
 or pictorial portions of its imagination, as of ideal 
 reHgious beings, and also its more refined and ab- 
 stract imaginations of an ideal good, rightness, or 
 mental nobleness : there is now left nothing for it 
 but itself (and itself, not as it thinks it might or 
 ought to be, but as it finds it is), to live for, serve, 
 and worship. 
 
 I do not understand exactly what the philosophy, it is not 
 which speaks in the above manner, means by 'human clse^hat^ 
 nature having outgrown all this/ There is here that ^^rkTof 
 confusion between the fact and the ideal into w^hich these ima- 
 
 1 1 •! 1 • 1 • 1 11 • ginations ; 
 
 the philosophies which appeal to human experience and what 
 seem so apt to fall. As a simple factj human nature fhiVphib-^ \ 
 seems very far from having outgrown all this : while Jg^^^^^h^^ / 
 if we say that it ought to have done so, some reason it teiis him / 
 has to be given why (if we admit the idea of anything get nd of / 
 as what it ought to have done) this is what it ought *^^^' / 
 to have done rather than anything else. The reason / 
 
 which will probably be given is, that this is what ' 
 
 it has done. Such is the logic of this kind of 
 philosophy. 
 
 Human nature has certainly always had a great As a fact 
 disposition to believe that there is something which tme does 
 it ought to do, and that in doing this it will make ^^Z\l\n 
 itself happy. If we speak of the work of the whole "JJ®^* 
 
 ■»•'■♦' ^ ^ above 
 
 human race, that work, it is felt, must be something itself and 
 more than a collective prudence, and must have for its reli^on 
 object something more than human pleasure. Reli- f"*^ ™''**^' 
 gion meets this moral demand of man's nature for an 
 object beyond itself, by setting before us the glory of 
 God as the object of all human action. And indepen- 
 dently of this, so far as we can abstract morality 
 from religion, human improvement is an object which, 
 though not going beyond man, yet going beyond his 
 present self to an ideal conception of what he might 
 
334 THE CLAIM OF UTILITARIANISM 
 
 and should be, gives him something to look to, some 
 purpose to live for. In religion and morality human 
 nature makes an effort to rise above itself 
 
 I now proceed to examine the special claim put 
 forward by Mr Mill in favour of his own neo-utili- 
 tarianism. As we have seen him identify this with 
 the morality of public spirit and unselfishness, and 
 claim for it specially or exclusively, all the admira- 
 tion which in this respect has been usually given to 
 the morality of Stoicism or Christianity, so he iden- 
 tifies it also with what we may call the morality of 
 progress. I will explain what I mean. 
 MrMiu Mr Mill has described as 'the bindinof force 
 
 identifies ... . . . 
 
 utiiitariau- of the Utilitarian morality^' a thing which the 
 the moral- older Utilitarians took small count of, namely, the 
 process, 'powerful natural sentiment' of sociality ^ This 
 connecting jjg^g ]3gen recoo^uized by moralists from the earliest 
 
 the two by r»i'i i 'ii 
 
 the com- days of ethics, but always recognized the most by 
 equality, thoso whoso opiuious havo been least Epicurean 
 Sat\he^ and utilitarian. In this description, however, there 
 progress of are somo particulars which give to it, not an utili- 
 consistain tariau character (for the whole idea is alien from 
 encyTo genuine utilitarianism), but a character bringing 
 a state of j^ ^^^^ some sort of relation with the utilitari- 
 
 equahty, 
 
 and that auism which Mr Mill is here defending. One such 
 would lead particular is the extent to which he h olds the 
 pande? ^^^^ ^^lat socicty really involves the equality of the 
 sociality, members of it ; and that the advance or improve- 
 ment of society is its tendency towards 'a state in 
 which it will be impossible to live permanently on 
 other terms* (than those of equality and of equal 
 consulting the interests of all) ' with anybody^.' The 
 manner therefore in his view in which ' political 
 improvement' goes on, is by 'removing the sources 
 ^ util. p. 48. 2 jjyid^ p 4^ 3 7^;^^, p, 46. 
 
TO BE THE MORALITY OF PROGRESS. 335 
 
 of opposition of interest, and levelling inequalities of 
 legal privilege between individuals or classes.' Cor- 
 responding with this political improvement there is 
 what we may call the social improvement arising 
 from the habit of people cooperating together, and 
 proposing to themselves a social, not an individual 
 interest, as the aim of their actions, and from other 
 causes. In a state of growing civilization and of 
 political and social improvement of this character, 
 
 * influences are constantly on the increase, which 
 tend to generate in each individual a feeling of unity 
 with all the rest\' Such a sentiment is felt con- 
 tinually to be more and more natural. Of course 
 the increase of this sentiment is a great improvement 
 in morals also. And all arises from a principle which, 
 Mr Mill says, is ^ the binding force of the utilitarian 
 moraHty.' 
 
 We have heard this at various times before, and it was the 
 
 • j .1 'j* J* • fxij- J.* association 
 
 it was the association some time since oi that portion of there- 
 
 of utilitarianism in which Mr Mill is interested, with Jj5.i(JJ.^5 
 
 ideas of this sort as to social and political improve- rianism 
 ,., ,., Ill ii It • ^'^^ *^^® 
 
 ment, which did more probably than anything pro- idea of 
 
 perly philosophical in it to bring upon it the hard Xch*^ 
 
 language it has had to undergo, and which it might ^^^^^^^e 
 
 have avoided if it had always been associated with former un- 
 
 the conservatism of Paley. For myself, I have far 
 
 more sympathy with the earnestness and aspiration 
 
 after better things which breathe through Mr Mill's 
 
 language, than I have with any spirit of satisfaction 
 
 (if it is to be called so) with what exists, under the 
 
 idea that we are not likely to get anything better. 
 
 But from Mr Mill's social views I entirely differ. . > 
 
 First of all, the whole of this, right or wrong, But (r) \ 
 
 has nothing to do with utilitarianism, that is, with notapartof! 
 
 the doctrine that it is the conduciveness of actions J'g^^'^^su^'.- 
 
 1 Ibid. p. 47. 
 
33^ THE CLAIM OF UTILITARIANISM 
 
 (2) levelling to happiness which determines their moral value : so 
 
 18 not * 1 I . 
 
 further that this moraHtj of progress may be right, and yet 
 progress ; Utilitarianism wrong ; and its rightness, if it is right, 
 is^lsTentS brings no credit to utilitarianism. Secondly, we 
 to society, niust make a distinction, as to civilization and social 
 progress, between those early steps which change 
 man from a barbarian into a social being, and those 
 later steps which only vary his civilization or social 
 state from one form of it to another, from a better 
 to a worse, or from a worse to a better. It is an 
 entire mistake to regard the process of levelling, 
 disclassifying, making everybody like everybody else, 
 which goes on often in an advanced state of society, 
 notably in our own, as a farther progress or portion 
 of that same process which formed men into societies, 
 and really made them civiHzed or social. Thirdly, 
 as 1 have remarked before \ society requires differ- 
 ences of individuals as much as, or more than, 
 equality or resemblance, or else it is mere gre- 
 gariousness, and no organization. And human 
 society especially is a society of unlikeness : I do 
 not say inequality because the idea of equality im- 
 plies quantitative measurement, or comparison by 
 one standard, and nothing of this sort is possible 
 in regard of men, the kinds and varieties of dif- 
 ference among them being infinite ; so that when 
 the word equal is used in regard of them, it is used 
 generally with very little meaning. 
 The exist- It is a Very narrow view of the improvement of 
 daTsinte- society to supposo, as Mr Mill does, that so essential 
 rests is ^ p^j.^ of it is the destruction of privileqe. The dif- 
 
 gooaorbad ••- ... 
 
 according fereuco amoug men which is marked by this word 
 stances. ^ privilege ' (the organization that is, of the society 
 ^^cmiiza- i^t^ ranks and classes, more or less traditional and 
 tionmay hereditary), stands substantially under the same cir- 
 
 consist in *^ ' "^ 
 
 ^ See above, p. 95 scq. 
 
TO BE THE MORALITY OF PROGRESS. 337 
 
 cumstances as the institution of hereditary or family establish. 
 property. The difference is right or wrong, just or removing 
 unjust, according to the nature of it: it is better*^®"* 
 existing, or better absent, according to the circum- 
 stances of the state : as it is the nurse of some 
 virtues, so it is injurious to others. According to 
 period and place, it is in the growth and distinctifica- 
 tion of classes and interests, or it is in the breaking 
 down of the barriers between them, that progress in 
 civilization consists. All this belongs to political 
 science, not to moral. 
 
 Little as the experience of the world and of the if they 
 past may be able to teach us, it may at any rate teach corporate 
 us that such advance of civilization as consists in Jhl^J at any 
 breakinsf down privilesfe and class interests, and l^^^ ^5"^ 
 
 . . ^ . \ ° - - to restrain 
 
 rnakmg men in this manner equal, has no tendency to individual 
 produce in them that feeling of unity with others, ^^ 
 which, as we should all agree with Mr Mill, would be so 
 great an improvement in morality. Whole nations 
 liave been subjected to this process of pulverizing, 
 and though generally there has been one gigantic in- 
 equality, that between themselves and a despot who 
 rules them, in other respects there has been nothing 
 of external rank or privilege to hinder their calling 
 each other brethren. But what I think has generally 
 been considered in relation to such states of society 
 is that, in the increase of individual selfishness, there 
 is lost to morals as much, or probably more, than is 
 gained by the ceasing of class selfishness. And when 
 Mr Mill considers that opposition of interests, with 
 all its temptation to wrong, is removed by the level- 
 ling and disclassifying of men, surely it must strike 
 him that there is at any rate nothing in this to 
 lessen the opposition of individual interests. At 
 present the existence of men in families, orders, 
 separate governments, and other such divisions, with 
 
 22 
 
338 THE CLAIM OF UTILITARIANISM 
 
 the various feelings arising therefrom, such as those 
 of family partialities^ of esprit de corps, of patriotism, 
 are main agents in breaking down selfishness ; or if 
 the feeling which they generate is still a species of 
 selfishness and not proper philanthropy, it is at any 
 rate a selfishness of a much better and nobler kind 
 than simple individualism or egotism. 
 Mr Miu It seems hardly clear, with respect to the happier 
 
 mcoiisiS" »/ ' 1 J. J. 
 
 tentiy stato which Mr Mill anticipates, how far it is to be 
 orgHnka- ^ state in which there is no difference at all of class, 
 tiiT/ulure ^^ corporate, interest, or how far one in which such 
 to destroy corporate difference is only to stand upon a better 
 while he ' basis than at present. He speaks of men cooperating 
 itTeflc? together in different bodies for different purposes, 
 in the past wliich will of courso make new classes and divisions 
 
 has been to . i i i • p 
 
 increase it. rcplacmg the old : m fact, cooperation or sympathy 
 of this kind is one of the things which is to produce 
 the better state. Thus at one moment he seems to 
 anticipate the improvement from the breaking down 
 of the special sympathies which at present hinder us 
 from calling all men brethren ; at another moment 
 from the making fresh and stronger sympathies of 
 this very kind. But if the present corporate organi- 
 zations among men do more harm by creating class 
 partialities than they do good by creating special 
 sympathies, I do not see why the same should not 
 be the case with the new cooperative organizations 
 which Mr Mill anticipates. And if these latter are 
 to work as such powerful opponents to selfishness, 
 I see no reason why the former may not do so 
 likewise. 
 Property Whatever may be the errors and mistakes into 
 
 toman!^^' wluch humau societies may have fallen about pro- 
 perty, in the way of unduly magnifying the differ- 
 ences among men, it seems to me certain that man, 
 when we look upon him as a moral being, is to be 
 
TO BE THE MORALITY OF PROGRESS. 339 
 
 taken with property or belongings, giving him on 
 the one hand power of action, and on the other 
 limiting action. The genitive case and possessive 
 pronoun are as early in thought as the nominative 
 case and the personal pronoun. From the very first 
 men have something which is their own. They have 
 their capacity, and they have their limitation. 
 
 The varied surface of human society is formed by itrepre- 
 the intermingled action of might and rights of man's difference 
 power and man's moral feeling, something in the ^''^^^'^^JJ^ 
 manner in which that of the physical earth is formed ^as to be 
 by fire and water. The former is always to a certain te'cted and 
 degree at work, and on certain occasions bursts forth by^iaw^f,,. 
 irresistibly ; the latter acts habitually to restrain this ^Jiyi^uaiity 
 
 ... . being no 
 
 within certain limits and channels, and in the case ofiessimpor- 
 the outbreaks, to set things to rights as speedily as similarity 
 may be, and to smooth the new rough surface into ^^^1^^.^ ^^ 
 regularity and order. Property is the representative society. 
 either of ancient irregular force, protected now against 
 fresh force which would disturb it, or else of force 
 regular and as law limits and allows it. Property 
 is thus the representative and expansion of differ- 
 ence among men ; and society, in order to the 
 development of the fuller life of men, has at 
 once to bring out and to regulate their difference. 
 We are the more men, the more we have of our 
 own, associated with our individuality, differencing 
 us from others, giving us, so to speak, moral resource 
 or moral capital to set in action the power which we 
 have. At the same time we are the more men, in 
 another point of view, the more we have of reason 
 and knowledge and sympathetic feeling, enabling us 
 to join our minds with others, and live a common 
 life with them. We identify property of course in 
 our language very much with material possessions 
 and goods, and in the same manner we identify /m;? 7 
 
 22-2 
 
340 THE CLAIM OF UTILITARIANISM 
 
 very much with enjoyments connected with these. 
 This is very well for law, but in respect of morals it 
 should be considered that we each have our parti- 
 cular possessions and life, things which we value, a 
 manner of action which belongs to us. It is the pur- 
 pose of society, not more to bring us into relations 
 with others, than to preserve our individuality against 
 the overbearing and oppression of others. 
 The prin- j^ will be soeu that what Mr Mill really identifies 
 
 ciple of . . . . . *^ 
 
 equal dis- With the morality of social progress, is not at all 
 wassug- utilitarianism, but is that idea of an arithmetical 
 ftfbtarkns ^4^^^^^y ^^^^g ^lou which has been incorporated 
 by the into some forms of utilitarianism in order to ree^ulate 
 feeling for the distribution of action for happiness. To a certain 
 beft^e the extout this view has been recognized in all times of 
 evin in"* ethical philosophy : in some respects all people are to 
 law it is be treated alike by us, as men. But it has been no 
 versaiiy loss generally recognized that in some respects they 
 appica e. ^^^ ^^ ^^ treated differently, as this or that man 
 bearing a particular relation to us. It was mainly in 
 view of this distinction that justice was in early times 
 divided into two portions, corrective and distributive. 
 The utilitarianism with which Mr Mill sympathizes 
 arose contemporaneously with a strong feeling, espe- 
 cially in France, against ^ privilege,' and in favour of 
 what is called ' equality before the law.' This feeling, 
 that judgment is one of those things in which there 
 should be no respect of persons, is a strong and 
 worthy feeling of human nature ; but the error of 
 utilitarianism lay in this, that, incapable of seeing 
 more than one thing at a time, it forgot that respect 
 of persons is as right in some cases as it is wrong 
 in others. Incorporating with itself the equality of 
 men as a principle of morals, it neglected all idea of 
 special ties and sympathies for that of an arithmetic 
 aggregation, and certainly in this way allowed it to 
 
TO BE THE MORALITY OF PROGRESS. 34I 
 
 be supposed that our duty to each, including our- 
 selves, was to be measured out by a real calculation. 
 Accordingly we have seen how Mr Mill considers 
 the advance of sociality to consist in the reducing 
 of society more and more to such a form as shall 
 induce us to look upon all alike, so that our measure- 
 ment of the equal amounts of action for happiness 
 due to each shall have nothing to interfere with and 
 disturb it. This seems to me, as I have already in- 
 dicated, not a continuation and perfection, but a 
 reversal of the process by which society was founded 
 in the place of barbarism. Even Mr Mill seems 
 partly to consider this, and. to look forward to the 
 units rearranging themselves, as we have seen, in 
 other and better forms. The equality of the arith- 
 metical utilitarianism is not society, and can furnish 
 only a partial, and therefore wrong, basis for morals. 
 
 From what I have said I trust it may appear, it appears 
 first, that Mr Mill's yi^wi-of social progress, suppos- equality^ 
 ing it were correct, has no philosophical connexion ^^ "^^^[^^ 
 with utilitarianism, or the morality whose special progress 
 attention is directed to happiness, being only con- itarianLL. 
 cerned with an accident of it, namely, the idea of the 
 equality of men : and next, that since Mr Mill's view 
 of social progress is neither good nor correct, it 
 would bring no strength to utilitarianism, even sup- 
 posing that it was connected with utilitarianism itself, 
 and not with a mere accident of it. 
 
CHAPTEE XXL 
 
 WHAT ARE THE REQUISITES OF A MORAL PHILOSOPHY 
 AT THE PRESENT TIME ? 
 
 Moral phi- To come to an end at last, I will just mention three 
 ought now characters which seem to belong to a moral philo- 
 lolniLrthe s^P^y s^cli ^s is needed at this particular time ; the 
 variety of first, that it should fully recognize the largeness and 
 lure, (2) to variety of human nature, and should not merely aim 
 gion7(3) to ^^ ^ ready and easy solution of the problem before 
 uphold the jt without full conviction that such solution is suffi- 
 
 mterest m / 
 
 the ideal, ciont j the sccond, that it should recognize the 
 fact that the most important practical teaching 
 is in the hands of religion, and that its work 
 must be to aid that: the third, that it should feel 
 its own especial task to be the keeping up in 
 the human mind of what we may call the philo- 
 sophical feeling, the interest in the ideal, or in what 
 should he. 
 Reasons There is no study more universal than moral 
 
 Jo^iytle^^^ philosophy : everybody has his opinions about human 
 weight at nature and character. And yet, as a science, it cannot 
 
 the present . . . 
 
 time. It be said to have a very high reputation at present in 
 vague or our own couutry : nobody expects to learn much from 
 what professes to be moral philosophy, or seems to 
 think much can come of it. I think it is a thing to be 
 regretted that we should be such theorists and critics 
 in regard of morals as we almost all of us are, without 
 
 onesided. 
 
MORAL PHILOSOPHY AT THE PRESENT TIME. 343 
 
 taking more pains than we do to be good ones : and 
 by moral philosophy I should wish to understand 
 whatever would help us to be such. I believe also 
 that the carelessness which there is about moral 
 philosophy arises from a sort of notion^ well grounded 
 or not, that it is very likely to be mere words, or 
 else a sort of quackery : very likely not to take hold 
 of human nature, but to rest in a region of useless 
 generalities ; or else very likely to seize hold of some 
 one point, possibly of some importance and truth, to 
 exaggerate this, and make everything depend upon 
 it, recommending attention to it as w^hat wall at once 
 set everything right, in a manner which those who 
 see the variety and complication of actual life are 
 at once aware is not reasonable. It is not likely 
 a priori that one medicine or one manner of treat- 
 ment will cure all diseases ; and in the same way it 
 seems to me that any simplicity in morals which is, 
 not painfully and in time distilled from most com- 
 plicated observation (like the grand simplicity of the 
 Newtonian discoveries), but summarily assumed as 
 what must be true and what must account for the 
 facts (as has been the case in the larger number of 
 moral theories), is not at all likely to be what we 
 want. 
 
 Another reason why moral philosophy has pro- Some dis- 
 bably been always more or less undervalued among interfiling' 
 men is, that those who would naturally be most in- y^^^*'*^®,, 
 
 . . . . . . . freegrowth 
 
 terested in it, from their interest in the consideration of charac- 
 of human character, are jealous of it on account of its object to^** 
 supposed tendency to level, regulate, and square that pracacaU 
 character, destroying its nativeness and variety ; 
 while those who are disposed to levelling and regu- 
 lation are not in general interested in human 
 character or philosophy of any kind, but prefer 
 something more practical. Moral philosophy thus 
 
344 WHAT ARE THE REQUISITES OF A 
 
 looks dull and stupid to any one interested in man 
 himself and his character, and visionary and un- 
 practical to any one interested in man's outward life 
 and his daily business. The undervaluing of moral 
 philosophy from this point of view falls in readily 
 with the undervaluing it on account of the sup- 
 posed partiality or onesidedness of the successive 
 theories of moral philosophers. The former of the 
 two sets of people whom I just mentioned, who are 
 those to whom philosophers should most look, con- 
 sider, we may say, that human nature is too large 
 for the moral philosopher — he cannot grasp the 
 whole of it. And he is worse than the poet, who is 
 similarly unable to do so ; for the poet makes no 
 pretence at system, but is content to exhibit his 
 views as partial, while the latter must pretend to 
 systematize what he cannot grasp. 
 Its present Keflection upon this may lead us to think that 
 be"iarge" what is most wautcd, at the present stage of moral 
 ^•Th'^^th^'^ philosophy, is not definiteness of system, but large- 
 system. It ness of view. Of course this renunciation of system, 
 rlthera SO far as it goes, lowers moral philosophy from its 
 S;T^L»^ scientific rank, alters it from the character of a sino-le 
 than a scicnco to that of a group of sciences, whose relation 
 science, to cacli othcr it is not altogether easy to determine. 
 But, as I have before said', while nominally a single 
 science, it has always in fact been a combination of 
 this kind. And one mischief arising from the claim 
 put forward by each of these sciences in succession, to 
 be the whole of moral philosophy, is that they have 
 had to carry on a warfare with each other in many 
 respects unreasonable and illogical. Each of them 
 has attacked the others with arguments only good 
 from its own point of view, the propriety of which is 
 really the question in dispute, and has perhaps put 
 
 ' See above, p. 122 nq. 275 seq. 
 
MORAL PHILOSOPHY AT THE PRESENT TIME? 345 
 
 itself forward, puffed itself (one might almost call 
 it) on some extraneous ground, as that it is the way 
 in which all disputes will at once be settled (which 
 we have seen was Bentham's great recommendation 
 of his principle), or that it is the only inductive 
 method, or whatever the ground may be. 
 
 In reality hedonics or hedonology, the science of Hedonics 
 human pleasure, well founded on observation andonS 
 
 science 
 
 methodized into general laws, is a very reasonable ""^.j^^. .^ 
 science for Epicurus or Bentham to form the notion cannot 
 of, and to construct if they can. In the course of the whole, 
 this construction they will I presume meet with 
 difficulties, some of which I have discussed in this 
 Essay with reference to Mr Mill; — for instance, 
 whether we are to assume a difference of quality in 
 pleasure, and if so, how pleasures of different quali- 
 ties are to be compared for preferableness ; Mr Mill 
 thinks it is to be done by the experience of persons 
 who have tried both; — but supposing the science con- 
 structed, still the question remains. Is this moral 
 philosophy, and is it the whole of moral philosophy ? 
 The science is in fact one of those which I have 
 described as subsidiary to moral philosophy, and one 
 which may possibly be of great importance to it ; but 
 the question of moral philosophy is. Is this con- 
 sideration of pleasure the single one by which man 
 does, and should, direct his action ? Is his moral 
 differentia that he is a pleasure-seeking being ? Is 
 the ideal which his imagination wakes in him one of 
 pleasure only ? What is the nature of the imperative 
 character attaching itself apparently to this pursuit 
 of pleasure, by which it is in some sense required 
 that we act for pleasure, when it is the pleasure of 
 others ? The hedonic science itself can give no sort 
 of answer to these questions, and is the same in 
 itself, whatever answer is given to them : it is these 
 
34^ WHAT ARE THE REQUISITES OF A 
 
 questions, and others like them, which constitute 
 moral philosophy, 
 utiiitari- I must confess that so far is utihtarianism in my 
 
 anismcom- « -, . ••ij.i i i. I'l 
 
 pared to eyos irom bearing in it the character which one 
 ionirphi- ii^ight suppose should belong to the latest birth of 
 losophies: time, it puts me rather in mind of the days when 
 
 the crude , ., i • 
 
 conception philosophers Contended that the universe was com- 
 ness"":^^^ posed of fire, or water, or whatever it might be. 
 b^takeV^s "^he taking the single characteristic of conduciveness 
 theuniver- to happiuess, as what should determine our choice 
 
 sal princi- « . . n i t • 
 
 pie of the of actions lu all the complications and each conjunc- 
 worki, as turo of life, seems to me to belong rather to the pre- 
 wTter of observational simplicity of the philosophers whom I 
 thephysi- havo lust referred to, than to the post -observational 
 
 cal world. 
 
 simplicity of Copernicus and Newton. As the ques- 
 tion lay to those philosophers, What is fire ? or 
 What is water? the fact being that fire and water 
 were composite portions or functions of that nature 
 which it was attempted to explain by them ; so the 
 question lies to our utilitarians. What is happiness ? 
 the fact being here also that happiness is something 
 intertwined with the other circumstances of action, in 
 such a way that the resolving all action into effort 
 after it is no more true than the resolving the 
 whole universe into fire or water. When it is said 
 that all that contempt of happiness, and intentional 
 sacrifice of happiness, and effort after something 
 quite distinct from happiness, which we constantly 
 see in good human action, is all really effort after 
 happiness, this seems to me just like saying that air 
 or anything gaseous is all water evaporated, that all 
 solid bodies are water congealed, and so forth : what 
 do we gain by such manner of description, except to 
 confuse terms ? I cannot imagine any manner of 
 thinking more hostile to real observation in regard 
 to what men do feel and aim at in their action. As 
 
MORAL PHILOSOPHY AT THE PRESENT TIME ? 347 
 
 men had to observe and learn a vast deal about the 
 physical world in general before they could come to 
 any fit notion of the constitution of water, which at 
 first they so coolly assumed as the known substra- 
 tum of everything, so in my view it is with happi- 
 ness. We shall understand man's happiness in the 
 general advance of moral knowledge, and as we come 
 to know more of man's life. Such was very much 
 the view of the greatest of philosophers, Aristotle, 
 with whom happiness is a thing most real, but most 
 imperfectly conceived, waiting in fact to be filled 
 out by experience of actual human life, of which it 
 was in his view a quality, feature, function, or how- 
 ever we like to describe it. But where he feared to 
 tread Epicureans speedily rushed in, and described 
 happiness as simple pleasure or enjoyment, and utili- 
 tarians have followed in their steps. 
 
 As I have mentioned then about human progress We must 
 in general, that nothing is more necessary for it than Aristotle's 
 every now and then ^reculer pour mieux sauter V "j^^^^ ^^'^^^ 
 to bathe itself afresh in the waters of its youth, so is ^i"!"§ ^^^ 
 
 . . positive 
 
 this specially the case with morals, the science (if so and the 
 we call it) of human progress. "We must recur in maL't^n- 
 many respects to the method proposed for it, vaguely )f,f ^7*^^ 
 indeed, by Aristotle, which we might call the method Ji^i^g an 
 of moral biology. We must expand and develop the character 
 notions ei;{a>ia, evTrpa^ta, living well, doing well in ^l ^h^Z^ 
 life, observing that in each such term there are two '^if^"^^^ 
 elements, the ideal element represented by the ev, science. 
 well, and the positive element represented by the 
 living, doing, faring, which of course must be under- 
 stood in subordination to the conditions of human 
 nature. We must have in our minds an ideal, more 
 or less, of human life lived well, before we can have 
 any real notion of human improvement. That 
 ^ Kec above, p. 305. 
 
348 WHAT ARE THE REQUISITES OP A 
 
 'well,' in the phrase I have just used, means 'as it 
 should be' is clear, but carries us on no further in 
 the notion, since this 'should be' is involved in the 
 speaking of 'an ideal.' Morals is, properly speaking, 
 the 'ars artium,' the great art of living; an art 
 differing from other arts in respect that, owing to 
 the height and generality of the ideal it has before 
 it, this cannot be described and presented in the 
 manner in which the ideals of other arts can. What 
 is of most importance, in regard to it, is to press 
 upon the attention this ' should be,' or absolute 
 'ought to be'; in other words, the imperative cha- 
 racter of morals, as contradistins^uished from the 
 indicative mood of science; the fact well urged by 
 Aristotle, that morals have relation to what is to 
 be done\ not to what is; that they constitute an art 
 to which a science or sciences may be subordinate, 
 not a science upon which an art or arts may be 
 founded. Unless this is done, there arise in people 
 entirely different apprehensions as to what they are 
 talking about ; what is a method of proof with one per- 
 son has nothing at all of that character with another. 
 Morality There is a difficulty of course in fixing the notion 
 
 faith in 'as it should be 'formally^ that is, in reference to the 
 denc^^r i^eaning which it carries with it, not in reference to 
 the various (ho couduct to which it is applicable : and the man- 
 
 fornial no- . , . , , i • • i r. 
 
 tions of ner in which we understand it m the former reference 
 
 iifhuman m^y havo offects as to the latter. Thus we may 
 
 conduct, consider the formal notion of rightness of human 
 
 conduct to be that it is the conduct which it was 
 
 intended by man's Creator that man should pursue, 
 
 or that it is the conduct which nature, however we 
 
 * Compare such a passage as Eth. Nic. ii. 2, 'ETrel oZv rj napovo-a 
 npayfxaTeia ov Oecopias evfKO. icrriv acrnep at aXXai (ov yap Iv cidco/xei' ri 
 <Vrti/ -q apfTrj (rKfTTTOficBa, dXX' iv ayaBol y€P(Ofie6a. eVft ovdfv av rjv 
 o(f)f\o^ avTrjs), nvayKnlou fVri (TK.f'^acrBai to. nepl ras irpn^d^. nms npaKTinv 
 nvrns, Ed. 
 
MORAL PHILOSOPHY AT THE PRESENT TIME? 349 
 
 may understand that word, dictates to him, or that 
 human nature has a part belonging to it, and each 
 individual a particular part, in the whole mass of 
 action which ought to he. Which out of these and 
 various other possible suppositions may represent 
 the formal notion, or actual meaning, of * what 
 should be,' we perhaps cannot tell, but we know 
 that the notion is applicable to the conduct which 
 each of these, as well as various other suppositions, 
 would dictate to us, so far as they dictate any con- 
 duct. And certainly the notion is applicable to 
 conduct of any kind, so far as it will, more than 
 other conduct, produce man's happiness; under the 
 reservation that there may be other things to be 
 considered as well; or else with the supposition, 
 which in fact we must make in order to reason to 
 any purpose about morals at all, that the moral 
 system of things is a good and complete whole, that 
 on the whole what we ought to do and what we 
 wish to enjoy or have, our duties and our wants, 
 will in the end be found in harmony with each other. 
 Without a supposition or a faith of this kind, it does 
 not seem to me that there can be anything at all 
 answering to what we call morals. Unless we may 
 suppose that all the things which can influence our 
 action are capable, in the nature of them, of being 
 put together in thought as a whole (which is really 
 an a priori supposition), I do not see how we can 
 talk of any reason why we should do one thing more 
 than another. We want something in the world 
 of action analogous to what truth is in the world of 
 intellect — something universal and the same to all. 
 There must be right action as well as true thought : 
 and no doubt this right action, amongst other cha- 
 racters of it, must be productive of happiness. 
 
 The history of moral philosophy is a record of Human 
 
WHAT ARE THE REQUISITES OF A 
 
 Itself the various ways in which philosophers, generally 
 against a with a Certain degree of confusion as to whether they 
 mere pi- ^^^^ giving the meaning of ' should be/ or describing 
 
 curean in- 
 
 tbrof the ^^® ^ind of conduct (as distinguished from other 
 ideal conduct) to which the term was applicable^, have 
 explained *well' or * should be' in the phrase which 
 I have given. A simple and ready answer of course 
 was that, to the readiness of which language itself 
 may be said to bear witness, namely, that living well 
 or doing well in life meant simply pleasure and 
 material prosperity. This is the Epicureanism to 
 which, rather than to the philanthropic elements 
 which he unites with it, Mr Mill seems to take a 
 pleasure in referring the parentage of utilitarianism. 
 I think it may be said, that human nature itself has 
 always protested against the notion that this is nois 
 6 av9po}TTo<;, the whole dut}^ or business, or life, of man. 
 Even the merely positive, or matter-of-fact, contem- 
 plation of human life leads thus to a consideration 
 of the insufficiency of Epicureanism or utilitarianism, 
 on the ground that it leaves unnoticed much that we 
 actually see in human nature. Every part of our na- 
 ture — feeling, reason, imagination alike — suggest to 
 us that we are made not only for self-enjoyment but 
 for improvement, for a range of thought and feeling 
 going beyond ourselves and tending more and more 
 to embrace the welfare and interests of others ; 
 and suggest also that in this we not only find /ac^, 
 but that which is absolutely desirable, that which 
 should he. 
 Pleasure - To the philosophcr who would make pleasure 
 
 IS properly ■••, ^ , ^ -^ 
 
 anaccom- the proper aim of life, the moralist might use the 
 ofTe"aith same kind of language as the physician might use 
 in reference to bodily pleasure — ' Pleasure, so far as 
 
 and is not 
 meant to 
 
 1 In Mr Mill's language the 'connotation 'or the 'denotation ' of the 
 term. Ed. 
 
MORAL PHILOSOPHY AT THE PRESENT TIME? 35 1 
 
 man is master of it, means simply health : take care be made 
 of that, and the pleasure will take care of itself : any ^im of ufe. 
 pleasure expressly sought and indulged in will more 
 or less disturb this, and really be more akin to, and 
 productive of, pain than pleasure.' This notion per- 
 vaded the ancient moral philosophy of all schools ; 
 though it seems to me that in respect of it the 
 Epicurean was a harder, as well as a more unreason- 
 able philosophy than the Stoic. The former recom- 
 mended mental health, which could not be without 
 self-denial, for the sake of pleasure, the latter for 
 its own sake. In the eyes of the latter it was 
 something better than pleasure, including and neces- 
 sarily producing it. And surely this is so. 
 
 But even to the philosopher who would make Even 
 mental health and welfare the aim of life, the the mind 
 moralist might speak, as I suppose the best physicians gu^cie^nt 
 would in regard to the body — ' Care of health is not ai™- i* ^^ 
 the whole of life or the entire aim of it : nor is moted, as 
 health likely to be the better in the mass of cases the body is, 
 for such express and exclusive care : it will be best oj/'^ro^.er 
 consulted if the body, and each part of it, does its work for 
 proper work and business.' And the work and busi- sake, 
 ness of the collective human race, it seems to me, is 
 self-improvement ; for the sake of the glory of God, 
 if we take a religious view ; for its own sake, if we 
 do not. That man has the power of such self- 
 improvement, both materially and morally, I have 
 tried to show. And as his efforts to promote this 
 must be the best manner of his pleasing God, so we 
 must believe also that his past efforts towards it, and 
 such success as he has had, have been under the direc- 
 tion of God's Providence. 
 
 Utilitarianism, if it is really philanthropic, gives Phiian- 
 up the simply Epicurean idea that a man's own iitlmnism 
 happiness is to be the only real object of life, the j,tp"!?ness 
 
352 WHAT ARE THE REQUISITES OF A 
 
 with plea- happiness of others, so far as he consults it, being 
 case of looked at as the road to this. The philanthropic 
 not^'in'a " Utilitarian disclaims happiness as his own object in 
 man's own jjfg^ ^^ ^j^^ ^^^y. moment that he lays it down as a 
 philosophical principle that it must be the sole object 
 of life in general, or in the case of others. Yet if he 
 feels for himself that the happiness which he most 
 desires is not such as he will have sought directly 
 for itself, but such as will have resulted from a 
 consciousness of his doing what he should do, and 
 from the success of his efforts to do man's proper 
 w^ork (a work for others as well as for himself ), why 
 should he not consider that in all cases, in the case 
 of others as well as of himself, it is this state of mind 
 or manner of life (of which happiness is a circum- 
 stance and result) which is the good and desirable, 
 not happiness as pursued for itself in the character of 
 pleasure ? 
 The true The fact is that in the increase of the ideal 
 
 individu- element the social and the individual feelings have 
 fess^than ^o be exaltcd in conjunction : the one will not be pro- 
 i^g^ind^^ perly exalted without the other. In respect of con- 
 extends to scious purpose and view we may, if we like, describe 
 same con- morality as self-forgetfulness and regard for the hap- 
 hlppbess piness of others : but we must remember that with the 
 have^or^ self-forgetfuluoss there is a very great self-develop- 
 ourseives. ment ; individual character is largely brought out ; and 
 unless this is so, the social feelings are merely weak 
 and ineffective. And the exaltation thus of the 
 individuality, or in other words, of the view of life 
 of the aofent, cannot fail to exalt his ideal of the 
 happiness of others, or of the work to be done for 
 them : he would wish for them not any so-called 
 happiness, but the worthiest and the best. And 
 again, the self-forgetfulness as to the object of action 
 will be, under these circumstances, accompanied with 
 
MORAL PHILOSOPHY AT THE PRESENT TIME? 353 
 
 abundant self-thoughtfulness as to the manner : with 
 a higher feehng of responsibiHty, a quicker sense of 
 what is worthy and honourable. The ideal thus 
 expands and is elevated on both sides ; both in 
 reference to the moral value of man, and in refer- 
 ence to the improvement, moral and material, of his 
 condition. 
 
 The ancient philosophers, in their way, brought Tiie an- 
 out the moral value of man very much, and stirred bsoph'eii 
 and exalted his individuality. In setting courage, eJcfuaivriy 
 to the extent to which they did, at the head of the «» indi- 
 
 . , . , ., . , . / 1 • 1 n vidual ex- 
 
 virtues, and in describmg happmess (the ideally per- ceiience, 
 feet human state and the end to be striven after,) astarirns'too 
 consisting in the worthy action of the inward man o^,^\^|^n7 
 and the proper balance of his powers, they brought thropic ac- 
 strength enough to this side. The question to be 
 asked of them was, Will all this individual self be * 
 brought out unless there is a worthy object of action 
 beyond self? Stoicism first, and afterwards Christi- 
 anity in a far greater degree, added to this individual 
 ideal a worthy object in the happiness and eleva- 
 tion of others. Utilitarianism has done good service 
 in bringing out and illustrating parts of this latter 
 ideal : but in so doing it has lost ground on the 
 other side. Full of the idea of the general happi- 
 ness, it has neglected that of individual worthiness, 
 and the ways of producing it. 
 
 It appears therefore that the idea of a better Both sides 
 human nature involves two ideas, like those of duty ideal must 
 and liberty, apparently contradictory yet really work- ^^ ^^^^^ 
 ing together, the idea of a fuller social feeling and resist the 
 of a more individual independence. The view of tendency 
 morality as a negation of individual will, as life for nature, 
 the public, for society, for mankind, has in various 
 forms existed at all times, and been most fruitful : it 
 has been brought out most strikingly by Christianity, 
 
 23 
 
354 WHAT ARE THE REQUISITES OF A 
 
 and there is beautiful utilitarian language about it in 
 Mr Mill's papers. But what I wish to urge is that, 
 without the parallel development along with it of in- 
 dividual force and of the feeling of individual moral 
 value and responsibility, it will be left an idea and 
 words only. Do what we will, we act, as we die, 
 alone, and must do so. We call the action of one 
 and another man by a common name, but in reality 
 they are full of difference ; done with different feel- 
 1 ings ; done against different temptations. The moral 
 ideal is in the union of full and free individual choice 
 with public or social motive : what is to be resisted 
 being the downward tendency of our nature to mere 
 passion and self-regard, the development of indivi- 
 duality really helps that of sociality, and is necessary 
 for it. 
 Morality WhcH WO spoak of the improvement of human 
 carry regu- charactor and action, we should not mean any attempt 
 fails to *^ niake this uniform and similar in different people. 
 discourage The great variety of possible happiness is one thing 
 which goes to make utilitarianism incomplete as a 
 system of philosophy : it is only very generally and 
 widely that the happiness which people really do 
 act for can be exhibited and arranged. The same is 
 the case with moral action to a certain extent : one 
 man's happiness is not another's, nor one man's good- 
 ness another's goodness. But inasmuch as the very 
 notion of the latter implies that it is incumbent 
 upon us, there is more reason for going as far as we 
 can in systematizing goodness than in systematizing 
 happiness. Still, in so far as it definitely directs and 
 forbids, the business of morality lies in a few rules 
 which are themselves simple, though the application 
 of them may sometimes be complicated and difficult. 
 With regard to the larger portion of life, its business 
 is, not to prescribe, but to inspire and animate : the 
 
MORAL PHILOSOPHY AT THE PRESENT TIME ? 355 
 
 definite form which action inspired by it takes must 
 depend very much on individual circumstances and 
 character. 
 
 It is in this way that the question may be ^*« P^'^f 
 
 work IS 
 
 answered, which is very likely to present itself, to animate 
 whether what we are to expect of human action is ing3ave 
 that it should be non-moral, of itself and in th^ ^l^J^""^ 
 mass, regulated and restrained by morality as a law ; t^is way 
 or whether morality applies to it on the whole, and increase 
 should give it its aim and purpose, as well as its^*"^^' 
 law and regulation. It gives both in different 
 ways. It gives the latter very particularly, and 
 does in this regard tend to assimilate different forms 
 of human action, and to diminish the variety of it, 
 which here is extravagance or transgression. But the 
 former it gives in a far more general manner. By an 
 ideal of what man should be, we do not mean any 
 one sort of character or civilization, to which different 
 characters and civilizations, as they improve, con- 
 verge. In this regard there is not one way of good 
 and many ways of evil ; rather the ways of good are 
 more than those of evil, and character and civiliza- 
 tion, as they improve, will develope into wider and 
 richer variety. I cannot conceive any more impor- 
 tant business of morality at the present day than to 
 take account of this latter consideration ; to guard 
 against the temptation to estimate, as perfect or ideal 
 improvement, what is improvement in some things 
 but not in others, and consequently to depre- 
 ciate these others, and to take pleasure in charac- 
 ters or in civilizations which are narrow-minded and 
 defective. 
 
 The notion of improvement is not in all parti- We in- 
 culars an agreeable one, and against it we may allow value im-^ 
 its fair charm to positivism, or the acceptance of^l^^^^^^^^ 
 things as they are. The charm of the latter arises well as im- 
 
35^ WHAT ARE THE REQUISITES OF A 
 
 thanr''^' from the supposition of it as the natural, in coutra- 
 which we distinction to what is matter of force, consciousness, 
 well as that a-nd ejffort. lu this, as in almost all moral questions, 
 make^for^ WO aro at War with ourselves, and it is no use trying 
 ourselves, to mend the matter by determining to look at one 
 side of the question only. I do not think human 
 Mature has ever, as to its feelings, decided, nor do 
 I think it will ever find any principle on which 
 to decide, whether to value most what is man's 
 own creation (if I may so speak), or what is his as 
 matter of fact and by nature. I avoid the use of 
 religious expressions here, under the consideration 
 that, however the latter may seem to be more parti- 
 cularly given us of G od, yet in reality, when we take 
 a religious view of the matter, it is equally com- 
 petent to us to regard the former in the same light. 
 The having made ourselves, or gained for ourselves, 
 something which we think good is an independent 
 source of self-complacency on the one side ; but so also 
 on the other is the being, or possessing, something 
 which we think good without its being the result of our 
 own effort ; nor is it easy to find a principle on which 
 one is to be preferred to the other. The former kind 
 of self-complacency, which we may call the direct 
 consciousness of merit, is the more simple : the latter 
 is a more complicated feeling; partly inferior to the 
 other, in so far as it arises fiom the consideration 
 that, in our rivalry with others, what is ours by 
 nature is something, for which we may indeed be 
 envied, but in which no effort on the part of those 
 not similarly gifted will enable them to rival us ; and 
 partly superior to it, as it arises from a reference 
 to an imagined higher power, on which we depend, 
 and dependence on which we feel to be an elevation 
 of ourselves, 
 ^twbh There is something sacred and noble then in 
 
MORAL PHILOSOPHY AT THE PRESENT TIME? 357 
 
 human will, but there is something sacred and noble human 
 also in that with which it is an interference. Man's be im** 
 will may present itself to us as something out ofPf*|^g*^^°"* 
 place and meddling ; and with respect to definite mo- turainess. 
 rality some undercurrent of this sentiment is perhaps to enjoy 
 not unfrequent in men's minds. We do not wishgo^od'^ 
 human nature or character to be improved out of its 7d!i^e° 
 naturalness, its picturesqueness, its untouched sim- towards it. 
 plicity. We want something to contemplate and 
 to rest in : and as in what we may call the vulgar, 
 notion of 'progress', or perpetual change, there is 
 something really to make the head reel, so in the 
 more reasonable notion of improvement, or tendency 
 towards an ideal, there is something in some re- 
 spects unsatisfactory. We do not want to be always 
 making things better ; and morality, when it gives 
 out this as its business, is probably not pleasing to 
 us in all our moods. The perpetual aim at making 
 things better implies rather the looking at what is 
 wanting in them, than the acquiescence in and enjoy- 
 ment of what is right and good. 
 
 Supposing that morality were done with so far as Morality 
 regards human custom and opinion, in consequence a^oim? ^ 
 of these being perfect, there would still remain the ^iv^ulil^ 
 question of the relation between this custom and and of cus- 
 individuals. In the main, it may be said that the the two 
 object of religion is the regeneration of individuals ; ed\y bli- 
 the obiect of the reforminof utilitarianism the reforma- f on and 
 
 ** " ^ by the re- 
 
 tion of human custom ; the object of the conservative forming 
 utilitarianism the maintaining human custom against servative 
 influences which would deprave it, and the bringing l^g*^^"^^'^"*' 
 individuals up to its standard. It will be seen then 
 what a complication there is. Human custom (so far 
 as we may speak about it as one thing) represents a 
 kind of mean temperature of earthly virtue, slowly 
 we hope rising, and such as may be raised thus gra- 
 
35^ WHAT ARE THE REQUISITES OF A 
 
 dually by human effort. Eeligion has the difficult 
 task of condemning this as *the world', in com- 
 parison of the regeneration which it strives to effect 
 in individuals, while at the same time it maintains 
 it, in the interest of morality, against the constant 
 efforts of the lower elements of human nature to 
 drag it down : religion has to be reforming and con- 
 servative at once. That there is much of what may 
 fitly be called a religious spirit in some of the reform- 
 ing utiHtarianism, I do not wish to deny : but it fails 
 in its too great thought of the reform of human 
 custom and legislation, without thought enough of 
 the moral elevation of the individual. It rests too 
 much in a positivist view of the individual, and 
 thinks that a better knowledge of what he is will 
 naturally lead to an improvement in human custom. 
 But the great reason why human custom is no better 
 is because individuals are not : finding out more 
 clearly what they are will not help us : what needs 
 is a more earnest impressing upon them that there 
 is something which they should he. Human civilized 
 custom (in which I include opinion and legislation) 
 is a vast mass of result of human intelligence and 
 effort at improvement, which continually puts to 
 shame, and has to maintain itself against, a large 
 number of individuals who have not risen to its level. 
 In regard to the great features of this, it is the 
 duty of those who rise above its level to help to 
 maintain it, as the ground already won for civilization 
 and for good. If a man speaks with a voice from 
 heaven, he may with authority condemn it, (as we 
 have seen that in certain views religion does) ; but 
 short of this, whatever ideal we may have formed 
 of what such custom should be, a large portion of 
 morality must always consist in maintaining it ; and 
 if any one fails to be mindful of this, in his zeal for 
 
MORAL PHILOSOPHY AT THE PRESENT TIME? 359 
 
 his ideal he may do human nature irreparable wrong; 
 unless, which is more probable, he makes a moment- 
 ary impression, and then what he has said remains 
 in the history of philosophy as idle words. 
 
 In all that I have said about human improve- 
 ment there are two things which I would wish con- 
 sidered : one, that when it is said that man improves 
 himself, I do not mean to suppose such effort at 
 improvement to be necessarily conscious ; the other, 
 that I do not mean to exclude the supposition of 
 Providence and religion. 
 
 Human improvement is a thing very vast and Human 
 various, and consequently such progress as is made in mentlt a 
 it is made far less by any definite efforts to promote ^e'^J.^uit 
 it as a whole, than by effort to brino: about minor <>^ ^^^^^^y^ 
 
 , *^ o ^ partial im- 
 
 improvements in one and another particular. Butprove- 
 it is none the less through human effort that it is^^ing 
 arrived at, because this effort is, as regards the in- 0^^^"'^ 
 dividual case, partial and of limited view. The effort ypwaid 
 is still upwards and onwards, one way or another. The study 
 Were there not this spring in man, no progress po^^elsia 
 would be made. The consideration of progress or °J'][^^"^j' 
 improvement as a whole, and the careful sounding useful, 
 of the consciousness of the human race in reofard 
 to it, are chiefly of use, not so much because 
 man's improvement is likely to be advanced by dis- 
 tinct consciousness of his nature (if only there is the 
 spring, energy, and ideal), but rather in order to 
 guard against wrong ideas and conclusions as to what 
 this improvement consists in, and consequent injury 
 to the progress itself When man's attention be- 
 comes directed, as it now is, to the past experience 
 of this progress, in order to conclude from it as to 
 his future action, it is exceedingly likely that such 
 wrong ideas should arise, and most necessary that 
 great attention should be given to the nature of 
 
360 WHAT ARE THE REQUISITES OF A 
 
 the progress in order to prevent ill effects from 
 
 them. 
 Human And when I say that human improvement is the 
 
 menuT" work of man, I mean by this that it is the work of 
 dent?ai human will as against any idea of simply natural 
 though development, not as against the supposition, so far as 
 of human WO havo any reason to entertain such, of superior 
 
 providential direction. What I mean is as follows. 
 Possibly The actual beginnings of human civilization, like 
 
 nings^of^ the beginnings of language, and like origines of 
 mly wr ^v^^y kind, are hid from our view. In regard of 
 been a spe- almost cvorv system or course of thinsfs which exists, 
 
 cialgift n A 'i. i'J U X 'J ' 
 
 from God we tiud it diiiicult to avoid supposing, as necessary 
 o man. ^^ ^^^^^ .^^ some actiou different in kind from that 
 which operates to keep it going and develop it. 
 Positive science struggles against this apparent 
 necessity, and it is right it should, within its proper 
 limits : it is its business. The 'dignus vindice nodus' 
 does not arise (setting aside anything that may be 
 expressly revealed) till the power of science to ac- 
 count for origines is exhausted. In respect of the 
 beginnings of human civilization, man's self-improve- 
 ment out of a savage state was a favourite imagina- 
 tion of philosophers some time since, very much dwelt 
 on and variously pictured, after the manner of Lucre- 
 tius or otherwise. Since then the tide of opinion has 
 turned, and theories of the manner of conversion of 
 man from a savage state to a social one have not 
 been so popular : definite history has been more in 
 favour, and surveys, accurate or not, have been made 
 of man's actual past civilization, as it stretches 
 away from us to the historical vanishing point ; and 
 it is observed that savage races of the present time 
 have no tendency, in themselves, to civilize themselves, 
 so that we have no vera causa, nothing actuallj^ in 
 operation, to apply back, so as to warrant our con- 
 
MORAL PHILOSOPHY AT THE PRESENT TIME? 361 
 
 ception of man's having at some past time started 
 himself in improvement. I am not certain, after the 
 manner of the oscillations of opinion, that the tide 
 may not now be tending to turn again. Without 
 entering into this question, I wish to say that, in 
 speaking about man's self-improvement, I would be 
 understood as saying nothing about the beginning of 
 it. When man is in some measure improved and 
 civilized, he improves and civilizes himself, just in 
 the same way as when he possesses language he 
 speaks : how he came by original civilization and 
 language in the first instance, is a question which I 
 do not touch. 
 
 The principle which I have gone upon is, that Certainly 
 the nature of man contains within it the faculty ofdencyto 
 self- improvement : whether also the faculty of ori- provement 
 ginating self-improvement, I do not say. Whether ^^^^^^'^ 
 man at his creation received the beginnings of civili- religion 
 zation, is a question which I conceive Kevelation o^ oi^ 
 alone can answer. Here then it may well be that pow^ui 
 civilization, that is the rudiments of it, is a simple ^g^°*« °^ 
 gift of God to man. And whether this be so or not, tion. 
 yet the power of, and tendency to, self improvement is 
 His gift ; and religious sentiments, and still more, 
 actually revealed religion, are among the most power- 
 ful agents of civilization. 
 
 In practice there can be no doubt that all civili- 
 zation has had a great deal of religious sentiment 
 involved in the formation of it. Of this sentiment, 
 how much has been true, how much false, how 
 much has been advantageous to civilization, how 
 much inimical to it, is a matter of much dis- 
 cussion. I would merely say in general that, in my 
 view, such religious sentiment as has existed upon 
 the earth, taking account of all its forms, has been 
 far more helpful to human improvement than it has 
 
 24 
 
362 WHAT ARE THE REQUISITES &C. 
 
 been the contrary : and that again in my view, in 
 the main, the helpfulness to civilization has been in 
 virtue of such truth as the religious sentiment has 
 contained in it. 
 
 These then are the reservations that I make in 
 saying that man's self-improvement is possible inde- 
 pendently of religion. Not independently of God's 
 creating power and His Providence, nor in such a 
 manner as that the thought of Him is not a most 
 powerful aid to it : but yet by man's own free will 
 and power, without necessary thought of Him or 
 reference to Him. The work of God in the matter 
 is through human effort; by His influence leading 
 man, in whatever way, to act in one or another 
 manner. 
 
 CAKBRIDGE : PRINTED BY O. J. CLAY, M.A. AT THE UNIVBB8ITY PBES8. 
 
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