757/ CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Date Due m i 1952 '**-*«***-- 7i t F /Of w ffrnng^gH ^v MR 2 1857 1 1 iiuJ — tas o B ft //77 4 C "fJEL / woo M ^ 2G19 G! » Jg; Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924029045479 A MODERN UTILITARIANISM. MODERN UTILITARIANISM, OR THE SYSTEMS OF PALEY, BENTHAM, AND MILL EXAMINED AND COMPARED. THOMAS RAWSON BIRKS, KNIGHTBBIDGE PKOFESSOE OF MOBAL PHILOSOPHY. HonKon : MACMILLAN AND CO. 1874. UK 1 IV; :■ [All Rights reserved.] 'UNIVLkSITY! CamfitiBge: PRINTED BY C. J. CLAY, M.A. AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS. PREFACE. The present volume contains the main part of a course of Lectures, in the October Term of last year, on Modern Utilitarianism. The subject is viewed historically, in connection with the views of Paley and Bentham, the criticisms of Mr Mill on those writers, and the state- ments and explanations of his own treatise. Several topics, however, included in that course, have been omit- ted, partly that the work might not swell to an incon- venient size; but also because they seemed to require a fuller treatment than could be given in the bounds of a single lecture, or one less controversial in form than those in this volume have inevitably assumed. Various engagements, while preparing this work for the press, have hindered the treatment of the subject from being so complete and full as I should have desired it to be. But I trust that those who read with a view to gain a clearer apprehension of the truth on questions VI PREFACE. of high importance will find some real help in the present as well as in the previous work. I commend theni both to the blessing of Him, who is the Lights- of the world, the only Source and Fountain of all true wisdom. Cambeidqe, 28, 1874. CONTENTS. PAGE Introduction ... . . 1 LECTURE I. The Systems of Paley, Bentham, and Mill 18 LECTURE II. Mill's Critique on Paley examined ... 48 LECTURE III. Mill's Critique on Paley— Examination continued . 76 LECTURE IV. Mill's Review of Bentham .... . 107 LECTURE V. Bentham and the Ascetic Principle .... 139 LECTURE VI. The Principle of Sympathy and Antipathy 164 Vlli CONTENTS. LECTURE VII. PAGE On Moral Inquiry and Christian Faith . • 179 LECTURE VIII. Mr Mill's Proof of Utilitarianism . . . . .194 LECTURE IX. The true Definition of Utilitarianism 211 LECTURE X. Pleasure, Happiness, and Well-being 223 Conclusion . 236 MODEEN UTILITAEIANISM. HISTOEICAL INTRODUCTION. Casuistry, the second subject of the Knightbridge Professorship, requires, I conceive, in the present day some latitude of interpretation. It seems the least de- parture from its historical and proper sense to under- stand it as equivalent with Controversial Ethics. It will thus form a natural transition from Moral Philosophy to the kindred and still higher subject of Moral Theology. It is only through conflict with plausible errors that we can hope to emerge from the low valleys, and climb the mountain sides of truth. In entering on a subject so wide and various, my course seems almost defined by the labours of my pre- decessors, who have given a Review of English philosophers from Hobbes to Bentham and Coleridge, and a History of Moral Philosophy from the early times of Greece to the present century. It is natural for me to avoid ground they have so lately traversed, and to begin with the ethical controversy, of which Cambridge and Westminster have been the two immediate centres during the last eighty or ninety years. B. L. II. 1 HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. Two different forms of utilitarian morality , those ofj) Paley and Benth am. ra n sid e by si de for half a century,; hardly mingling their stream s. The first had Cambridge for its birthplace and principal home, the other certain exclusive circles in the metropolis, who founded an organ of their principles, towards the close of the period, in the Westminster Review. But forty years ago, at the death of Bentham, a new era of ethical thought and con- flict began. Cambridge shook off its torpor, and its passive acceptance of Paley's authority, and awoke to a wider range of ethical study once more. The Discourse of Professor Sedgwick on the Studies of the University led the way. It was followed soon by the revival of this Professorship, and the successive lectures and writings of Dr Whewell and Professors Grote and Maurice. Abouj the same time Mr Mill, succeeding to his father and M? Bentham^ assumed the c hampion ship of their generafj theory. The doctrine^JiowOTer^jnhisJmndSj underwentja gradual change int o a less ex clusi ve and arro gant, a more com"prehe nsive~an d catholic form. Betaining utility, or the ^ctnr^^oT^consequences. for the grand foundation, he protessed to combine it with Stoic and even Christia| elements. The posthumous Examination, by Prof. Grote, of Mr Mill's latest utterances on ethical philosophy, is a model of candid and thoughtful controversy, and seeni to bring this forty years' conflict to a worthy close. Cambridge, within seven years, has mourned the los of all these four eminent writers, to whom the revivl in its bosom of moral and mental studies is chiefly dua The oldest, and the earliest in the field, Prof. Sedgwic^ has been the latest survivor, and has been removed veg lately in a ripe old age, full of years and of honou| Within a few months the champion of the rival systi HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. highly admired by his own disciples, has followed him to the tomb. The time seems, then, most suitable for a re- view of the whole controversy, and an attempt to derive some definite conclusions, . if possible, from the latest phase in the eager and earnest conflict of thought in this "eternal battlefield." My present object is to compare and examine the views of Paley, Bentham and Mill, the three leaders of modern utilitarianism. The teaching of recent Cambridge moralists, especially Prof. Sedgwick and Dr Whewell, will then require, in another course, a similar examination. The philosophy of Locke, based on sensation, already "prevailed at Cambridge in the middle of last century. As a natural consequence, the views of Clarke and More, of Cudworth, Shaftesbury, Butler, and Huteheson, were displaced by the rival creed, taught by Gay, Rutherford, Brown and others, and which resolves all virtue into far- seeing prudence. But Paley and Bentham are the two names most closely linked with this utilitarian theory at the close of the last, and in the earlier part of the present century. Their personal history has several points of close re- semblance. Paley was bom in 1743, and Bentham in 1748, only five years later. At fifteen Paley entered Christ's College, Cambridge, and Bentham became a student of Queen's, Oxford, at the same age. At twenty Paley became senior wrangler, and took a bachelor's degree. Bentham gained no similar distinction, but took his master's degree in 1768 at the same early age. His last visit to Oxford was in that year, while still a minor, to vote in the election of a member for the university. He then met with a pamphlet of Dr Priestley, in which L ' f the great^hjp^iness of the greates t number," was laid ■s^A— - 1 _ 2 4 HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. do wn as the only reasonable basis of all good govern- ment^ It was this book and this phrase, he says, which] decided his principles in the matter of public and private] morals. Three years earlier, in 1765, Paley had gained thej university prize for the best dissertation in Latin Prosed His subject was a comparison of the Epicurean and Stoie| philosophies in their influence on the morals of the people, and he espoused strongly the Epicurean side. Next year he was elected fellow of his college. He returned into residence, became college tutor, and soon after began to lecture on metaphysics and morals. He left Cambridge in 1775. His first publication, the treatise on Moral and Political Philosophy, appeared in 1786, but its substance had been given in his college lectures from ten to twenty years before. The Horod Paulinos appeared in 1790, the ■Evidences in 1794, and the Natural Theology, his latest] work of importance, in 1802. He died three years latei»j in 1805, at the age of sixty-two years. The fragment, On Government, Bentham's first publica- tion, appeared in 1776. It was an attack on Blackstone's ■Commentaries, and the doctrine of social contract, marked 1 by strength of invective and a vigorous style. But his?] first main work on jurisprudence, including ethics, was the Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legisla- tion. It appeared in 1789, the year of the French KeTO lution, just three years after Paley's no less celebrate! work. It is still, perhaps, the best known and most in> portant of his writings. The rest appeared after Paley's death, whom he outlived twenty-seven years. In 1810 he published The Chrestomathy, in 1817 his Table of thei Springs of Action, and in 1822 his Project of Codification, where he first makes large use of Dr Priestley's phrase^ 'i HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 5 Still later he replaced it, by what he thought still bet- ter, " the greatest happiness on the whole." He died in 1832 at the age of eighty-four years. The Deontology is his only work on Ethics proper, as distinct from Juris- prudence. It was compiled by Dr, Bowring, his executor and fond admirer, from materials which Bentham had supplied him for the purpose, partly in his lifetime, but was only completed and published soon after his death. Utilitarianism, in Paley, had formed an alliance with Christian Theology, though a theology of rather a meagre and barren kind. In Bentham it was joined with the study of Jurisprudence, a thorough dislike of creeds and establishments, and the vehement advocacy of radical reform. In the wards of Mr Mill, his early disciple, he is "the great subversive thinker of his age and country," a merit which many will think to be at least of a very equivocal kind. The circles of thought influenced by the two writers were widely different. The effect of Paley 's work was much wider, but less ab- sorbing and exclusive. It leavened for many years the habits of thought of a very large number both of the clergy and educated laity of England, till rival influ- ences asserted their superior strength. But Bentham lived on, and wrote on, amidst a small, but strongly sym- pathizing cirele of sceptical philosophers, advanced re- formers, and legal students. His works, much neglected at home, but improved by Dumont in their French ver- sion, found warm admirers and disciples among those who claimed to be men of progress in France, America, and other foreign lands. Sir James Mackintosh has given a striking description of the strength and weakness of his influence, and the character of the disciples who clustered around him in his later years. And though the elder HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. Mr Mill has denounced it, almost with fierce invective,j there can be little doubt of its substantial truth. "The disciples of Mr Bentham are more like the, hearers of an Athenian philosopher, than the pupils ofj a modern professor, or the cool proselytes of a modern 5 writer.... As they deserve the credit of braving vulgar pre- judices, so they must be content to bear the imputation! of falling into the neighbouring vice of seeking distinctionj by singularity, and of considering themselves a chosen few, whom initiation into the most secret mysteries of philosophy entitles to look down with pity, if not con- tempt, on the profane multitude.... A hermit in the greatest! of cities, seeing only his disciples, and indignant that that system of government and law, which he believes to be perfect, are disregarded by the many and the powerful, Mr Bentham has been betrayed into the most unphiloso-| phical hypothesis, that all the ruling bodies, who guide the community, have conspired to stifle and defeat his discoveries. He is too little acquainted with doubts, to believe the honest' doubts of others, and too angry to make allowance for their prejudices and habits. To the unpopularity of his philosophical and political doctrines he has added the obloquy which arises from an unseemhj| treatment of doctrines and principles, which even a regard to the feelings of the best men requires to be approached with decorum and respect. Both he and his followers have treated morals too juridically. They do not seem to be aware that there is an essential difference in the subjects of the two sciences." The Deontology is Bentham's only work, which treats of Ethics proper, in contrast to Jurisprudence. All the defects of his tone of thought, disguised elsewhere by his partial merit as a jurist, stand out here in bold relief; HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. It is not surprising that Mr Mill should strive to free the teacher he admires from the discredit of closing the lahours of a life by such a work, even at the price of doing violence to facts which are evident. Its exact ar- rangement may be due to the editor, Bentham's chosen executor, but the substance is plainly his own. It is his parting legacy, to replace what he styles the nonsense of Plato and Aristotle in the esteem and reverence of the coming generations of mankind. It was in the year of Bentham's death that Cambridge began to shake off its lethargy on moral subjects, and a new era in its culture of ethical science began. Several things had prepared the change. The acceptance of Paley's work was due partly to his academical reputation, and the charm and clearness of his style, but also to the fact that moral studies held a very secondary place in the actual system of the university. Its exclusive dominance had been thus more apparent than real. No sooner was it taken for a text-book, than several voices of Cambridge men, Gisborne, Pearson, and Robert Hall, were raised against its utilitarian teaching. The Evangelical move- ment, which gave to the church from Cambridge such names as Wilberforce, Simeon, Henry Martyn, Milner, and Farish, was a powerful counteraction to the chilling and selfish aspect of Paley's theory. The writings of "Words- worth and Coleridge were another strong influence in the same direction. Both were Cambridge men, and when they rose slowly to wide celebrity, the richer and deeper type of thought in their poems or philosophical frag-- ments could not fail to leaven the rising talent of the university to which they both belonged. In 1818 Cole-> ridge republished the Friend, where a separate essay con- tains a review and confutation of Paley's doctrine df HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. s general consequences as being the only guide in morals. About 1832 be visited Cambridge after a long absence. Admiring listeners gathered round him, and the richness! and fluency of his discourse on high themes of philosophy and faith would deepen and confirm the influence his.- writings had gradually secured. And no mind, which had,: welcomed and admired the noble thoughts in Wordsworth's-; Laodamia, could remain in full sympathy with Paley'sj ethics, or see a grand discovery in Bentham's tedious and.' vague arithmetical problems on the summation of miscel- laneous "lots" of pains and pleasures. The first open sign of a new era of Cambridge thought : was given in Prof Sedgwick's well-known Discourse. It| spoke, as with a trumpet's voice,. to the students of thai university, while it urged them to take a lofty view of their true vocation, and moral responsibility It contained some J just and forcible strictures on the defects of Locke's philoso- 5 phy, and a strong protest against utilitarian ethics, and the faults of Paley's work. It was delivered in Trinity Chapel, December, 1832, the year of Bentham's death, but pub- 2 lished almost a year later. In the interval appeared the! first of Dr Whewell's many philosophical treatises, Astro-J nomy and General Physics considered with reference to Natural Theology. Archdeacon Hare, then also a tutor! of Trinity, took an active share in the same general move- ■ merit In July, 1835, Dr Whewell published a long pre-J face to Sir J. Mackintosh's Dissertation on the Progress of Moral and Mental Philosophy, when it was reprinted in a separate form, and defended it from the severe and cynical criticism which the elder Mill had written upon it shortly! before. The views of Bentham as well as Paley are there! discussed at some length. In November, 1837, he preached* four sermons before the university on the Foundation off , HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 9 Morals, and dedicated them, to his colleague, Archdeacon Hare. He there gave his opinion that "the evils which arose from the countenance given to Paley's system," hy its almost exclusive adoption as a moral text-book, were so great as to make it desirable " to withdraw our sanction from his doctrines without further delay." In June, 1838, he accepted the Knightbridge Pro- fessorship. Early in the next year he gave a course of Lectures on- the English Moralists, from Hobbes to Paley. In 1845 he published Elements of Morality, a systematic. treatise on the principles and outlines of moral duty. In 1846 there followed Six Lectures on Systematic Mo- rality. In 1855, on resigning the office, he was succeeded by Prof. Grote, also opposed to the purely utilitarian creed. But while occupied largely with other works on philo- sophy, the History of the Inductive Sciences, Scientific. Ideas, Novum Organon Itenovatum, and the Philosophy, of Discovery, Indications of the Creator, and the Plurality of Worlds, his ethical labours did not cease till near his death. His Platonic Dialogues reached a second edition in 1860, and his Lectures, with others added on Plato, Aristotle, St Augustine, Clark, and Coleridge, in 1862. Finally, in 1864, he published a fourth edition of the Elements, with a supplement in reply to Mr Mill's Review, twelve years earlier, and various other criticisms. But while the utilitarianism of Paley was thus dis- placed and set aside at Cambridge, which had been its birthplace and nursery, the controversy only passed into a new phase. The rival form of the main doctrine, that of Bentham, rose like a phoenix from the funeral pile of the Deontology, and found in Mr Mill a new champion, of great zeal and growing reputation. The two schools of ethical thought at Cambridge . and Westminster, those IO HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. of Paley reversed, and Bentham recast and modified, came henceforth into direct and frequent collision. Mr Mill assailed Prof. Sedgwick's Discourse very contemptuously, soon after it appeared, in the Westminster Review. The youthful critic had not yet escaped from the mischievous contagion of Bentham's habitual arrogance towards all who crossed his favourite theories, or disputed his oracular decisions. Illusion could scarcely go further than in the closing paragraph, where he asserts that the moralists he. opposes had hitherto reserved a monopoly of high preten- sion to themselves. But the unseemly tone of this early review disappears happily, with growing experience, in Mr Mill's latest works. Only three months after this re- view appeared, Dr Whewell, in his Preface to Mackintosh, I remarked on some of its statements, that they implied a real, though unconscious approach, to the principles* of that rival school of ethics which it condemned. This suspicion was confirmed by the later review of Bentham, in August 1838, six years after his death. Excessive praise,! it is true, is still heaped upon him, and he is called one of the two great " seminal minds of his age." But there j is mingled with this eulogy no small amount of dissent and partial blame. As a subversive thinker, a radical reformer, and a jurist, he is extolled almost to the skies.; But as a scholar, in his treatment of the old philosophers! and as a moralist, and student of human life and thoughtj a very inferior and secondary place is justly assigned him j He is styled a half thinker, who could see far and clearly between two narrow walls, but who needed to be followed in the same track by "complete thinkers," who could look widely on every side. Such a complete thinker Mr Mill was plainly aspiring to become; who should remedy the conspicuous faults of Bentham's bare and HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. II naked theories, and enrich the utilitarian creed with ele- ments derived from wider experiences of human life and character, and more fertile schools of thought. In his review of Coleridge, March, 1840, he recognises largely the merits and ability of a writer, whose views in politics, morals, and religion, were widely different from his own, and almost directly opposed to them. There was here a fresh sign that utilitarianism, in his hands, was entering on a new phase, and undergoing a change, by which it might be transfigured into a more eclectic and compre- hensive form of ethical theory. In October, 1852, a oriticism on DrWhewell's Lectures and Elements, sixty pages in length, and rather contemp- tuous in style, was published by Mr Mill in the London and Westminster Review. At the outset a heavy censure was aimed against the universities for their vowed adherence to opinions formulated for them three centuries before. On this ground they are pronounced incompetent to deal freely and fairly with ethical questions, or to depart from a fixed and stereotyped line of thought. It seems to be assumed that men are so mercenary by nature, as to be incapable of following sincerely after truth, so long as their con- victions involve social consequences of any kind whatever. The cfeeds and formularies of the Church of England are also pronounced, with a kind of oracular decision, to be prodigiously in arrear of the progress of thought, as that elastic phrase was understood in the circle to which the critic belonged. The same charge is transferred to Dr Whewell himself at the close of the review. He has made no improvement, it is said, on the old moral doc- trines. He has done still worse, and striven to set up anew several of them, which had been loosened or thrown down by the stream of human progress. One of these 12 HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. newly exploded doctrines, in Mr Mill's view, is found in the statement that "reverence for superiors is a duty," with the added remark, that it is "part of the natural feelings of a good man, and a necessary condition of the duties of obedience." The other statement, equally con- demned, as " out of season judged, and singular, and rash," is that "men are blameable in disbelieving truths after they are promulgated, though they may be ignorant with- out blame before their promulgation." Now both of these doctrines, thus condemned to oblivion in the review, form plainly an integral part of the teaching of Christ and His Apostles. The conclusion, then, must be plain to any Christian mind. A progress, in which they are loosened and thrown aside, cannot be upward into clearer light, but must be downward into some cave of shadows, a region of social anarchy and irreligious darkness. In the close of 1861 Mr Mill contributed three articles to Fraser's Magazine, which were soon after published in a separate work, as an explanation and defence of Utili- tarianism. His divergence from the teaching of Bentham is here very manifest, and almost amounts to a surrender of the main position he professes to defend. Several dis- tinctive features of the earlier creed are openly renounced, or silently abandoned; and the attempt is made to com- bine the doctrine with materials drawn from rival schools of ethics, so as to reconcile it with the facts of conscience, and some reasonable regard to the accumulated and in- herited experience of mankind. Still later, in 1864, Dr Whewell replied, by an Appendix to a fourth edition of the Elements of Morality, to the strictures of Mr Mill, twelve years previous, iu his earlier review. A posthumous Examination, by Prof. Grote, of Mr Mill's Utilitarianism, appeared in 1870, and is like a closing act in this long- HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 1 3 continued controversy, which began with the appearance of Prof. Sedgwick's Discourse, forty years ago. There is a striking contrast between its beginning and its close. That brief Discourse was marked by eloquence and fer- vour, high and noble instincts, vivacity and brilliance of thought, but verges, in part, on the looseness which often attends strong feeling and impassioned declamation. The .Examination is conspicuous for searching analysis, com- prehensiveness, and candour, and bears more resem- blance, as composed shortly before the author's death, to the calm and quiet beauty of a sunset sky. The first attempts to cut boldly through the knots of ethical con- troversy with a keen and polished blade, like Excalibar, that sparkles and flashes in the sunlight. The last seeks to untie them patiently, and thus to retain unbroken and uninjured, with a cautious and gentle hand, the whole tangled and complex skein of rival moral principles, and apparently conflicting ethical theories. It is not easy to sum up, and state impartially in few words, the present issue of these debates, which have lasted for a whole generation, and in which Mr Mill_ has taken the leading part on the one side, though with many able allies, and four eminent Cambridge names, of high and varied gifts, have been foremost on the other. The works of Mr Mill on other subjects have gained him a high reputation; and at his decease, in the view of his warm admirers, the greatest of recent English philosophers passed away. The width of his present influence is owned, even by those who view it, on the whole, as a cause for regret and sorrow. His Autobiography has placed in clear relief what nearly all discerning and intelligent readers must have suspected before, that his sensationalism in meta- physics, and utilitarianism in ethics, were really connected 14 HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. : with an early formed and deep-seated antipathy to all thei ) distinctive features of the Christian faith. It is well that the veil should at length be withdrawn. It is no sign of that heroism, the want of which in Paley he has condemned with extreme severity, that it should have been permitted 1 to rest upon his true opinions on these subjects so long. » But his own turn to undergo a searching examination, like that to which he has submitted the views of Sir W. Hamilton, has scarcely begun. Meanwhile the Editor of : Prof. Grote's Examination, Dr M'Cosh in his Eaximinatiori/j of Mr Mill's Metaphysics, and Mr Leckie in his History J; of European Morals, all opponents of the system he ad-'.' vocates, confess the fact of its popularity; and speak of " the reigning ethics of utilitarianism," as a creed which has a firm hold on the rising thought of our country and our universities, and a wide influence throughout England at the present hour. But however wide its prevalence, or plausible and attractive some of the forms it may have assumed, there are many signs that writers of a higher mood, from Plato down to the earlier and the more recent Cambridge moralists, have not spoken or written in vain. The changes, which Mr Mill has introduced into the doctrine! he inherited from his father and Mr Bentham, bear witness to the secret power of the antagonists he affected almost to despise. He has been a true Parthian in ethical con- troversy. He shoots keen arrows, but retreats, while they" are discharged, to some new and safer position. A galaxy of intelligent writers, very diverse in their other' views, and independent in their styles of thought, still raise their voices unitedly against the utilitarian theory,! even when it has undergone its latest process of revision #nd attempted improvement. Dr M'Cosh, Dr Calderwoodj HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 15 and Mr Morell, in their more solid works, Mr Shairp, in his ethical essays, Prof. Blackie and Mr Masson, in their Lectures at the Royal Institution, Mr Leckie, in his His- tory of European Morals, Mr Sterling, in his earnest advo- cacy of the Hegelian philosophy, Mr Laurie, in his review of Moral Theories, and Mr Thornton, in his Old-fashioned Ethics and Common Sense Metaphysics, all agree in their opposition to the purely Utilitarian or Apobatic Theory of Morals. The last of them adopts in his Preface the striking words of Carlyle, whose utterances, however vague, and ill suited to build up any outline of fixed and certain truth, have always been full and clear against mechanical views of human nature, and the enthronement of momentary pleasures, however increased by summa- tion, as the supreme good. He speaks as follows. " Has the word Duty no meaning 1 Is what we call Duty no divine messenger and guide, but a false earthly phantasm, made up of Desire and Fear ? In that Logic- mill of thine, hast thou an earthly mechanism for the godlike itself, and for grinding out Virtue from the husks of Pleasure ? I tell thee, Nay ! Otherwise not on Mo- rality but on Cookery let us build our stronghold. There, brandishing our fryingpan as a censer, let us offer up, sweet incense to the devil, and live at will in the fat things he has provided for his elect; seeing that with stupidity and a good digestion a man may front much.... Or is there no God ? or at best an absentee God, sitting idle since the first Sabbath, at the outside of His universe, and seeing it go \ Know that for men's being, whatever else be needed, Faith is the one thing needful." The object of the following Lectures is to examine and compare the three modern types of Utilitarianism, in Paley's Moral Philosophy, Bentham's Principles of 1 6 HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. Morals, and Mr Mill's reviews and later treatises, and especially its third and latest form. Every system, I be- lieve, is theoretically unsound, and practically mischievous, which endeavours, by limited and fragmentary deductions, based on a brief experience of the transient results of actions in the present life, to replace the authority of con- science, and the revealed commands of God, and accepts such imperfect guesses as a solid basis, on which the whole building of Moral Science can safely rest. The improve- ments attempted by Mr Mill do not really touch the main and vital defect of the system to which he adheres. Their chief effect is to turn his moral teaching into what he styles, in his criticism on his northern rival, a set of "imperfect junctions.'' In spite of his high reputation, his undoubted ability, and the connectedness and con- tinuity of his various writings, I believe him to be, on almost every subject he handles, a misleading and unsafe guide; because he has turned away persistently from those highest and noblest truths, which are the mountain tops of the wide universe of thought, and on which all lower truths inseparably depend. His bold assertion in the opening of his review of Dr "Whewell's works may be safely and absolutely reversed. T he mo rality of Christ and His Apostles, and even its imperfect reflection in the creeds and formularies of the English Church, is no fatal clog, as he rashly affirms, on the ethical progress of our universities. It is prodigiously in advance, not in arrear, of the moral teaching of Bentham, Godwin, and Helvetius, writers whom he holds in especial honour, and in whose steps he strives to follow, so as to manufacture an ethical creed, free from the intrusion of religious faith. The old, familiar saying, "Duties are ours, events are God's," contains a truer and deeper wisdom HISTORICAL INTROD UCTION. I f than the most skilful process of arithmetic, under a merely utilitarian creed, can ever attain. And while prudent foresight is one of the moral virtues, and must hold an honourable place, though not the highest, in any com- plete scheme of ethical teaching, to trace all the conse- quences of any action, so as to settle thereby its moral cha- racter, to the exclusion of every other test, transcends the powers of the wisest philosopher, and even of superhuman intelligence ; because to see the end from the beginning, in all the width and grandeur of the real problem, must ever remain the exclusive attribute and prerogative of Omniscience alone. B. L. II. L- ■' LECTURE I. THE SYSTEMS OF PALEY, BENTHAM, AND MILL. Utilitarian Ethics, in modern times, have assumed three forms, differing greatly from each other. They are con- tained in Paley's Moral Philosophy, Bentham's Theory of Legislation and Deontology, and Mr Mill's Treatise and earlier reviews. To compare them with profit, it seems essential to define first of all the true place of utility and the doctrine of consequences in Moral Science. All actions of moral agents may be viewed in three aspects. The first refers them' to some rule, law, or standard of good and evil, of right and wrong, which goes before, and which is supposed to be fixed, either by the| Supreme Will, or by the essential nature of all created and intelligent being. The second compares them with \ the constitution of the human mind, and the emotions of the heart, as known and proved by general experience. The third considers their connection with the results and consequences that follow. The first is their objective,! intuitive, or supernal aspect ; the second subjective, in-' ductive, or internal ; and the third apobatic, derivative, and external. They answer nearly to the past, present, and future in time, and to the beginning, the middle, and the issue or close, in every course of action, human or! THE SYSTEMS OF PALEY, BENTHAM, AND MILL. 1 9 divine. In the first we gaze on fixed and eternal re- lations, like those of geometry, depending simply on the existence of the Creator, and the essential laws of intelli- gent being, actual or possible, living or unborn. In the second we trace the actual emotions of the human heart, its instincts and desires, discern the reality and supre- macy of conscience, and seek by induction to eliminate the misconceptions, errors, and discordancies, to which we find, by experience, that moral judgments and feelings are exposed. In the third we trace the results of different actions, or kinds and modes of action, and seek to decide on their moral character by the happiness or unhappi- ness, the personal and social mischiefs or benefits, to which they appear to lead. All these three elements need to be harmonized in a full and comprehensive scheme of morality. The first is the highest and noblest, on which the others de- pend. The second is its imperfect reflection in the in- dividual soul, modified by the positive constitution of human nature, and the diffracting influence of personal character and will. In a practical sense, however, it is the most immediate and direct ; and deals at once with those emotions of praise and blame, of self-approval or remorse, which are the common experience and inherit- ance of all mankind. Its weakness arises from the plain fact, that the moral emotions are often clouded and ob- scured by prejudice and passion, and suffer from local and temporary disturbances of various kinds, so as to consti- tute no fixed and sure rule for the guidance of human conduct. The third or apobatic element in moral truth is the most secondary and subordinate, when kept within the limits of personal experience and mere human fore- sight. It simply completes, by a prudential element of 2—2 20 THE SYSTEMS OF PALEY, better or worse, the grand, broad features and contrasts of moral right and -wrong. But when we include the whole scheme of Providence, and the prospect of a life to come, it becomes a vast moral superstructure, equal in extent and dignity to the foundation on which it is reared. For all virtue and excellence in the creature, as it proceeds from the Uncreated Goodness, must ever he tending, in its progress and aim, to lose itself in the abyss of that Infinite Perfection from which it is derived, and to which it seeks to return. //The consequences of all moral action admit of a three- fold division. They are either initial, medial, or final. Our conclusions may vary widely, as one or other of these are kept mainly in view. Initial consequences are those which depend immediately on the nature or tendency of the action in itself, when it is not deflected by some foreign influence. They depend wholly on the moral features of the act, are its natural corollaries, and when such features are denied, must logically perish and dis- appear. Medial consequences are those which depend! on all the complex variety of influences by which the agent is surrounded, the nature of human life, the characters and habits of his fellow-men, and the whole; moral atmosphere in which he lives. The ultimate are those which result from the great law of God's universal providence, by which evil is overruled for good, and a righteous judgment is exercised in the actions of all mankind. Thus, while initial consequences involve and imply the reality and permanence of moral distinctions, and the medial, within certain limits, and subject to higher laws of duty, are the proper field for the exercise of private prudence or legislative wisdom, the ultimate and final results travel far beyond the range of mere worldly BENTHAM, AND MILL. 21 prudence, and link themselves with the grandest and most impressive truths of Christian Theology. They speak to us plainly of a righteous judgment after death, and of a life to come; and point onward to the high truth, that the chief end of man, without which he attains only a maimed and imperfect being, is "to glorify God, and to enjoy Him for ever." ^ The doctrine of consequences, the basis of utilitarian theories, is o n this view not the whole of moral science, nor even its chief and highest portion. It deals really with one partial and limited division of one of these three main elements. It is a doctrine of worldly prudence alone. And this prudence is robbed of its chief and best materials, unless we first recognize in human actions an essential contrast of right and wrong, of good and evil, and also, as their result, vast diversities of truthfulness and falsehood, vice and virtue, holiness and unholinesg, selfishness and benevolence, in the conduct and character of our fellow-men. The moral system of Paley, apart from mere details, includes these j&ief elements j— an_ exclusion .of _rules_ w hich are false or inadequate, a description of that happi- ness which is the basis and motive power of the wh"oIe system, a definiti on of virtue , and of mor al obligation , a combination of the double rule of the will of God and utility by the doctrine of Divine benevolence, and an argument for the necessity and importance of general rules. Under the first head, four rules are mentioned, which are to be excluded as insufficient on various grounds. The first is the Law of Honour, defined as a system of rules constructed by people of fashion to help their inter- course with each other, and having no other purpose. 22 THE SYSTEMS OF PALEY, A rule so defined heeds little argument to prove its utter imperfection and deficiency as a safe moral guide. The, second is the Law pf the Land. But this omits many duties, which cannot be made proper subjects for com- pulsion, and leaves many evils unpunished, because theyi are hardly capable of legal definition, or even because the attempt to restrain them by law would produce greater evils. The third is the Scriptures. But these, Paley; argues, neither give, nor were intended to give, more than general principles, and cannot therefore supersede a science of morals, which may unfold these into their details, and give more specific directions than the Scriptures were meant to supply. The fourth is the Moral Sense, or moral instincts. On this subject he concludes that either : there exist no such instincts, or that they cannot now be distinguished from prejudices and habits, and therefore! cannot be safely depended upon in moral reasoning. By the exclusion of all these_ rules, as either false or insuf)P cient, we are shut up to acceptance of the one test of general utility alone. But if moral right or wrong can be tested only by the tendency to promote human happiness, it is needful to define, however imperfectly, that happiness which is the basis of the whole scheme. A conditio n is happy, ac cord- ' in g_ to PaJey.in which the amountoraggregate of pleasure ex ceeds that o f pain, and the degree of happiness depends on the quantity of t his excess. He disclaims " much usual declamation on the dignity and capacity of our nature, on the worthiness, refinement and delicacy of some satisfac* tions, or the meanness, grossness and sensuality of others! because he holds that pleasures differ in nothing but con- tinuance and intensity ; from a just computation of which .every question concerning human happiness must receive BENTHAM, AND MILL. ' 23 its decision. But he then proceeds to mitigate the bare- ness of this arithmetical creed by some general maxims, derived from the practical experience of life. Happiness, first, does not consist in the pleasures of sense, in whatever profusion- and variety, because they ar e of short continu- ance, and lose their relish by repetition, and the eagerness for intense delights takes away the relish for all others. It does not consist in exemption from pain, labour, care and molestatio n, such a stat e being usually attended, not with ease, but depression of spirits, tastelessness, and ima- ginary anxiety. Neith er does it consist in rank or eie- vated station, sin ce no s u periority gives much pleasure, but what is gained over a rival, and this may exist in all ranks and degrees of life. The first great secret of happi- nessTFTio TEhow'befofehand what will please us, and what . pleasures will hold out. It consists, then, mainly, in the exercise of the sooial affecTiiorjs7~in the exercise of our" faculties, whe ther of body or mind ; in the pursuit of some/ engaging end ; in the prudent constitution of the habits, or to set them in such a way that every change may be for the better. And . lastly^ ._in ; healthy .jn_which is to_be included not only freedpm_ from bodily distempers, but that_ tranquillity, firmness, and .elasticity of mind, which we call good sjpiri^ t _an4jyhich de pends commonly on the_ same causes, and yields to the same management, as our bodily cons titution. Health in this sense, he concludes, is " the one thing nee dful, and no pains, expense, or restraint i s too much, by w hic h it may^be secured." The third and main element of the system is its de- finition of virtue. According to Paley it is "the doing good to mankind, in obedience to the will of God, and for the sake of everlasting happiness." So that, by this de- scription, "the "good of mankind is the subject, the. will of 24 THE SYSTEMS OF PALEY, God the rule, and everlasting happiness the motive of human virtue." In habitual virtue, it is added, the good of mankind, the -will of God, or the desire for eternal! happiness, may not be consciously in the thoughts. So " a man may be a very good servant without being con- scious, at every turn, of a particular regard to his master's will, or an express attention to his master's interest.! Indeed, your best old servants are of this sort. But then he must have served for a length of time under the actual;! direction of these motives, to bring it to this ; in which service his merit and virtue consist." Another conclusion, rather strangely expressed, is that the Christian religion " hath not ascertained the precise quantity of virtue ne- cessary to salvation." The third question to which Paley gives an answer, is the nature of moral obligation. Why am I obliged to keep my word ? His first remark is that the various answers, because it is agreeable to the fitness of things, conformable to reason, or conformable to truth ; that it promotes the public good, or is required by the will of God ; all of them ultimately coincide. "And this is the reason that moralists, from whatever different principles they set out, commonly agree in their conclusions." But when a further answer is required, Paley offers one which he seems to think. very simple, that it goes to the bottom of the subject, and I leaves nothing to be desired. Obligation is when a man ' "is urged by a violent motive resulting from the command i of another." In moral obligation this violent motive is the will and command of God, and the expectation of reward for well-doing or punishment for ill-doing, in the life to come. By this explanation, he conceives, the air of mystery, which must else hang over the subject, is re- moved. Private happiness is to be our motive, and the BENTHAM, AND MILL. 25 will of God the rule. The difference between an act of prudence and an act of duty is re ally the contrast bet ween a regard to consequences only jjLJib^-EISSSBli. life) xnA- a . respect to the rewards and punishments of the Ufa. to •come. Howi then, are this view of moral obligations, as rest- ing solely on the Divine will, and the doctrine of utility, to be combined together 1 Simply by the great truth of the Divine benevolence. This is inferred from various evidence, and from the multiplied proofs of design in all creation, tending to enjoyment. But every one may have some part of the evidence, which impresses him more than the rest; and Paley sees the benevolence of the Deity more clearly in the pleasures of very young children than in anything in the world. The example which strikes any man's mind most strongly is the true example for him. The conclusion is, that God wills and wishes the happiness of his creatures, and hence that, in doing good to~mank~ihd, we ob ey the will of God. " The method ~Trf"Tonring at the will of God concerning any action, by the light of nature, is to inquire into the tendency of that action to promote or diminish general happiness." Actions, it is inferred, are to be estimated by their tendency. Whatever is expedient is right. It is the utility of any moral rule alone, which constitutes its obligation. But the bad consequences of an act may be either particular or general. The particular is the mis- chief which that single action immediately occasions. The general bad consequence is the violation of some necessary or useful rule. " You cannot permit one action and forbid another, without showing a difference between them. Con- sequently the same sort of actions must be generally permitted or generally forbidden. The necessity of general 26 THE SYSTEMS OF PALEY, rules in human government is apparent. But they are necessary to every moral government, or any dispensation, whose object is to influence the conduct of reasonable creatures." Else rewards and punishments would cease to be such, and become accidents. " They would occasion pain or pleasure when they happened ; but, following in * no known order from any particular course of action, they could have no previous influence or effect upon the con- duct. Consequently, whatever reason there is to expect future reward or punishment at the hand of God, there is the same reason to believe that He will proceed in the distribution of it by general rules." *^ Let us now turn from the moral system of Paley to that of Bentham. This may be best derived from the Theory of Legislation, almost his earliest work, which ap- peared only three years after the Moral Philosophy. It begins with a maxim, strangely inconsistent with the later! dictum of the Deontology, where he says that the word "ought" should be banished from moral speculations. •
^[n the first place, he renounces the principle "of s elfish-
ness, and lays down beneficence, nr a direct aim at tfite
gener al happiness, not private advantage, as the ba sis and
essence of the whole system. In the review of Sedgwick,
he condemns Paley for the purely selfish character of his
definition of virtue. Again, in his review of DrWhewell, he
blames him for confounding " the theory of motives some-
times called the Selfish System," with Bentham's " Happi-
ness theory of Morals," and asserts that in Br^Vhewell's
own creed, as he infers from certain other statements, "dis-
interestedness has no place." Now Bentham's own view
in this matter is vague and inconsistent, and oscillates
from one side to another. [But on the whole he seems to
teach that benevolence, or a direct regard* to the greatest
happiness of the community, is a happy privilege of .his
own mental constitution and that of a few other jurists,;
BENTHAM, AND MILL. 33
and that pure selfishness is the natural and necessary law
of the vulgar herd of mankindj One passage to this effect
has been given before from his early work. In his latest
work, the Deontology, passages to the same effect abound.
"You see the moralist," he says, "in his study dogmatize
in pompous phrases on duty and duties. Why does no one
listen to him ? Because, while he speaks of duties, every
one is thinking of interests. Jt is in the nature of man to
think above all of his interests, and it is there that every
enlightened moralist will judge that it is for his interest
to begin. It is vain for him to 1;alk and to act; duty will
always give place to interest." And again, " The task of
the enlightened moralist is to prove that an immoral act
is a false calculation of personal interest, and that the
vicious man makes a wrong estimate of pleasures and
pains. Unless he does this, he does nothing; for as we
have said before, it is in the nature of things that a man
must labour to obtain whatever he thinks ought to procure
him the greatest sum of enjoyments."
' ""Mr Mill remarks, on the contrary, " The happiness
which forms th e utilitarian standard of what is ri ^ht, in
conduct is~not the ag ent's own happin ess, but that of all
concerne d. As betw een his own happiness and that of
olhersTuti litarianisrn req uires him to be st rictly impartial .
as a disinterested and benevolent spectator. I n the golden
rule of Jesus of .Nazareth we read the complete spirit of
the ethics of utility." " The social instinct," he says fur-
ther, " to those who have 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 without. This conviction
is the ultimate sanction of the greatest-happiness morality.
B. L. II. 3
34 THE SYSTEMS OF PALEY,
This it is which makes any mind of well-developed feel-
ings work with and not against the outward motives to
care for others, afforded by the external sanctions, and
when these are wanting, or act in an opposite direction,
constitutes in itself a powerful internal binding force;
since few but those whose minds are a moral blank could
bear to lay out their course of life on the plan of paying no
regard to others, except so far as their own private interest
compels." He goes still further, and in the teeth of his
master, who pronounces such an idea the dream of an
idiot, he claims for utilitarianism a full share in the
morality of self-devotion. " The utilitarian morality," lie
says, " does recognise in human beings the power of sacri-
ficing their own greatest good for the good of others. It
only refuses to admit that the sacrifice is itself a good. A
sacrifice which does not increase, or tend to increase, the
sum total of happiness, it considers as wasted." Here
modern utilitarianism, in seeking to rival the morality
of the Gospel without any help from religious faith, aban-
dons its own selfishness, passes at one bound over the*
whole doctrine of Providence, and alights in a quagmire of
mysticism on the other side.
^ Anotherj eature of Mr Mill's ethic al creed, by which
it diverges from the view of Bentham, and even lays the
axe to the root of his whole system, i s the assertion o f
a _ contrast, n ot only in the^ quantity, butJ nJbhe_kmdor"
quality ofpleasurgs^ It is quite compatible, he holds, win *
t he principle of utility, to recognise the fact that s ome
kinds of_jrieasure_ar e more desirab le and va luable than
others. He find sjhe test for deciding this point Tin tne
d^cid^a^re fCTen^e~^nEo^e-w^ had experienc e*^
both, and says that I romJJxisj^diet-ef-jJia^nly r^mppjjmt
judges the re can be no appeal. " On a question which is
BENTHAM, AND MILL. 35
the best worth having of two pleasures or modes of exist-
ence, the judgment of those who are qualified by know-
ledge of both, or if they differ, that of the majority among
them, must be admitted as final." "'But if this be so, and
the moral and intellectual pl easures are j?oncedejL to _be
higher in kind t han those o f sense,, the., summation, on
which Bentham's whole system is fo unde d, must become
^impracticable. H is statement that when one has become
familiar with the process, and has acquired the justness of
estimate which results from it, he can compare the sum of
good and evil with so much promptitude as scarcely to be
conscious of the steps of the calculation, is proved to be
not only untrue but impossible. It is equivalent to the
assertion that a person may learn, by habit and acquired
instinct, to add together lines, surfaces, and solids, weights,
values, and capacities, and to form out of them one arith-
metical total, on which the due conduct of his life is to
depend. In fact, by this one admission, Mr Mill passes over
insensibly from the camp of Epicurus to that of Aristotle
and the Old Academy, who held that virtue was the chief
good, and far the higher, when compared with the pleasures
of sense, but still not the only good.
<2 1 — A third contrast appears in the view of rival s ystems
of morality. Mr Bentham admires Epicurus alone, and
treats other moralists, ancient and modern, with contempt-
uous scorn. "While Xenophon," he says, "was writing
history, and Euclid giving instruction in geometry, So-
crates and Plato were talking nonsense under pretence of
teaching wisdom." Epicurus "alone of all the ancients
had the merit of having known the true source of morals."
j/But Mr Mill " does not consider the Epicureans to have
been by any means faultless in drawing out their scheme
of consequences," and thinks that "to do this in any
3—2
36 THE SYSTEMS OF PALEY,
sufficient manner, many Stoic, as well as Christian ele-
ments, require to be included."
>l Another main difference between the earlier and later
forms of the doctrine of utility consists in the degree of
res pect to seconda ry mora l rules, the embo died results of
human experienc e. The claim of Bentham, from the first
page of his wo rk^ is to replace all these, as imperfect results
of prejudice or forms of caprice, by calculations, based on
t he princ iple of utility, of which the data are first clearly
e xplained , by himself. His object is, first, "to esta-
blish the unity and sovereignty of the principle by
rigorously excluding every other," since " it is nothing to
subscribe to it in general, it must be admitted without
aDy exception." And next, "to find the processes of a
moral arithmetic, by which uniform results may be arrived
at," and this " by a uniform and logical manner of reason-
ing." It is on this ground that one of his admirers has
claimed for him to mark an era in moral philosophy, like
that which Newton's discoveries have wrought in the
lower field of natural science.
■*^This high claim, in the revised system, is abandoned
and almost reversed. The fancied merit, in the eyes of his
ardent admirers, is even treated as a foolish calumny, due
to opponents alone. Mr Bentham's knowledge of life and
human nature is said to have been far too partial and
limited for him to be able to apply the main principle
with any approach to completeness, accuracy, and success.
Common sense requires the genuine philosopher to avail
himself of all the moral experience acquired in past gene*
rations. During all these ages, he says, "mankind have
been learning the tendencies of actions, on which experi-
ence all the prudence and morality of life is dependent, i
People talk as if the commencement of this course of
BENJ'HAM, AND MILL. 37
experience had hitherto been put off; and as if, when a man
is tempted to meddle with the property or life of another, he
had to begin by considering whether murder and theft are
injurious. The matter is now done to his hand, mankind
must by this time have acquired positive beliefs as to the
effect of some actions on their happiness. And the beliefs
which have thus come down are the rules of morality
for the multitude; and for the philosopher, until he
has succeeded in finding better. That philosophers
might easily do this, even now, on many subjects, and
that mankind have much to learn as to the effects of
actions on general happiness, I admit, or rather, earnestly
maintain." - ■**
It is not explained how the multitude can feel them-
selves bound to obey rules, which rest, as they are assured,
only on the imperfect miscalculations of past ages, and
which their teachers, the modern philosophers, are striving
to replace by a more exact arithmetic of their own. But
at least the most eminent disciple in the school of Ben-
tham has here turned his back on the claim set up by his
fellow-disciples on behalf of their common teacher, when
he treats it as a mere calumny, hardly worthy of notice
or reply. " Gravely to argue," he continues, '• as if no
secondary principles could be had, and as if mankind had
remained till now without drawing any general conclu-
sions from th e experience of human life, is as high a pitch,
I think, as absurdity has ever reached in philosophical
controversy."
The view, then, of Mr Mill, varies essentially, and in
several main and distinctive features, from that elder
utilitarianism, which he professes to defend, and to clear
from the misconceptions of ignorant and rash assail-
ants. The contrast is pointed out forcibly by Professor
38 THE SYSTEMS OF PALEY,
Grote, who remarks on it, in his calm and thoughtful
manner, in these words :
" I am not myself fond of positive language, nor in-
disposed to sympathise with qualified defence. But really
I hardly see the use of defending Epicureanism or utili-
tarianism at all, when it has to be done with so many
admissions and reservations as Mr Mill has made. They
follow one upon another, and there is a sort of oscillation
in the 11th page, which seems to leave the opponents
in possession of almost the whole of their case. It seems
that Epicureanism will not do without many Stoic and
Christian elements ; that utilitarian writers in general
have not rightly conceived the superiority of mental plea-
sures to bodily; that they might with advantage have
said something quite the opposite of what they have said,
and which Mr Mill proceeds now 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 interest of
moral science, that it would be better for the reformed
utilitarianism to make a fresh start under a new name, or
at l east to drop the old."
Erom this brief sketch or outline of the three chief
modern varieties of utilitarian ethics, I proceed now to
point out what I conceive to be their common defects, and
their relative amount of failure or misconception, when;;
compared with each other. ''And first, they all agree in
rejecting, explicitly or implicitly, the first and highest
view of moral truth, as fixed and immutable in its founda-
tions, and resting on the essential perfection of the Divine
goodness, and the true ideal of all goodness in created
moral agents, as a resemblance and reflection of the Di-
vine. This view is found in Plato, the noblest of heathen
moralists, when he defines righteousness as o/ioiW« if
BENTHAM, AND MILL. 39
©era, a resemblance or likeness to the Divinity. But it
runs, like a golden thread, through every part of the
Scriptures, and has been derived from these into the
works of the best and soundest Christian divines and
moralists in every age. Paley approaches nearest to it*
where he defines virtue by obedience to the will of God.
But the interval is still great, because the obligation is
made to rest on will and arbitrary power alone, and not
on the deeper truth, that the will is conceived to be that
of One who is perfect in essential goodness. In Mr Ben -
tham and Mr Mill the taith has no place whatever. The
former ridicules it as merely one form of the many-headed
"principle of caprice," or a device of certain moralists
for passing on others their own private opinions. Mr Mill
seems to have one faint glimpse of it, where he censures
Paley for basing morality on the Divine will ; but it fades
swiftly from his view, and seems never to reappear.
In their treatment of the subjective aspect of morals,
or the doctrine of conscience and the moral sense, there
is some slight difference. None of them define or recog-
nize it clearly, but perhaps Mr Mill approaches nearest
to what I conceive to be the truth^ Paley does not posi-
tively deny its existence, but leaves it an open question,
and only mentions that, even if it does exist, it is so
mixed with prejudices and habits, that it cannot be safely
depended upon in moral reasoning. "Bentham, with his
usual self-confidence, scouts and derides it altogether, as
a mere invention of those, who wish their own opinions
to prevail without the pains of comparing them with the
opinions of others. MBut Mr Mill recognizes a kind of
moral sense, though not as primitive and underived, yet
still as the necessary result of healthy training, and based
on a social instinct, which is deeply rooted in the consti-
40 THE SYSTEMS OF PALEY,
tution- of human nature. The conviction in a man that
there should be a harmony between his feelings and aims
and those of his fellow-creatures is said to possess all the
characters of a natural feeling, and that it is the ultimate
sanction of the greatest-happiness morality.
Let us now pass on to the doctrine of consequences,
which the three systems agree in making the ultimate
and formal basis of all morality. And here it will be
enough to dwell on Paley's definition of virtue, and oil
those which answer to it in the writings of Bentham,
and in Mr Mill's revised theory.
^ilili2a~SL^sJi2Z£^£££i_££22I^iE£jL ^ a ^ e J' consists
in doing good to mankind, in obedience to the win of
Godj_and for the_sake of eve rlasting happiness! The
definition has three parts, which refer to the s ubstance,
the rule, and the motive, of human goodness or virtue.
It combines all the three elements of true morality, the
personal, the social, and the Divine. But the union is
artificial and imperfect. They are tied, and not fused
or thoroughly combined, together. The social element
stands alone in the subject, the Divine in the rule, and
the selfish or personal in the motive ; instead of the pre-
sence of all the three elements being seen in every part,
and recognized as essential to the completeness and har-
mony of the whole.
In each part of this definition there are two serious
defects. First of all, virtue is placed in the outward acts,
and exiled from its proper home, the judgments of the
mind, the habits, desires, emotions, and tempers of the
heart. It becomes a purely external thing. It is bene-
ficence, and not benevolence. The personal and religious
aspects of duty are overlooked. The definition has a
partial range, and is confined to social morality alone.
BENTHAM, AND MILL. 4 1
The rule assigned has also a double fault. The will of
God is presented in a naked form, simply as the authority
which consists in power to reward or punish. No re-
ference is made to that essential and supreme goodness,
which is the true ground of the moral authority of the
Divine commands ; or to that faculty in man, whereby he
discerns good and evil, and thus becomes capable of appre-
hending a law of duty, far nobler than physical compulsion
alone.
In the motive assigned for virtuous conduct the defects
are still more serious. The principle of religious faith is
recognized, but it is used as the buttress and support to
a doctrine of pure selfishness. Happiness, when taken in
the sense previously assigned, is itself a very insufficient
phrase to express the hope of the Gospel. But a more
fatal error is the exclusion of the love of God and the
love of men from the motives of virtuous conduct. For this
infuses a poisonous element into the very heart of the
Christian faith. Nowhere in the Scriptures have we any
warrant for the idea that a man purely selfish in his aims,
bent on securing only a large balance of private advantage,
and wholly destitute of the love of God and the love of
his neighbour, has any share in the special promises to
the righteous and holy in the life to come.
Are these grave defects mitigated or removed in
Bentham's later system? On the contrary they are nearly
all' retained, and even increased. In each of the three
divisions there is not only a twofold, but a threefold
error. Virtue is placed in the actions, not the state of
the heart, and is made wholly external as before. It is
confined to social action, and both self-culture and Christian
or natural piety are left wholly out of view. Instead of
doingg ood to men, the phrase in Fale y's definition, we have
42 THE SYSTEMS OF PALEY,
t he maximisation of happiness. Now t his substitutes an
artificial atte mpt to carry out the results of an arithmetical'
calculation for the direct i nstinct and impulse of kindness ;
arid good will to our neighbour. The secondary or pra-*
dential process, by which the good may be practically made
better, wholly swallows up the moral element.
Again, in the rule there is a threefold defect. Not only is
there no reference to the divine goodness as the supreme
law, or the authority of conscience, as the immediate rule,
but the will of God is left wholly out of sight, and His au-
thority is virtually superseded. It finds its place only among :
the sanctions, as one of four chief motives, but no part
whatever of the rule, of human virtue. The only allusion
to it is a brief attempt to prove that the teaching of the
Bible is quite ambiguous and uncertain, and that it must
depend wholly on the previous views of the interpreter
to what results it will lead. The substituted rule, in
Bentham's system, is itself ambiguous. We can nowhere
learn clearly whether each individual is to be guided hy
his own private calculations of advantage, public or per-
sonal, or whether he is to follow blindly the conclusions
which philosophers have drawn for him, and the instruct
tions which they deduce from calculations more exact and
profound.
The motives to virtuous conduct , in Bentham's theory,-!
are called s anctions, ~andj,re said to be of lour" kinds,'
natural, popular , legal, and reiigious7 7 The two'great faults
of Paley's definition are both retained. The happiness
is a mere summation of pleasures, with no discrimination
in their character, and the motives assigned are wholly
selfish and personal, excluding alike the love of man and \
the love of God. But while Paley gives full prominence
to the Christian hope .of a life to come, and makes it
BENTHAM, AND MILL. 43
the main foundation of his theory, Bentham first reduces
moral and religious motives under the category of a re-
fined selfishness, and then degrades them to a secondary
place, and assigns to them a very doubtful value. They are
" more variable, more dependent on human caprices. Of
the two the popular sanction is the more equal, more
steady, more constantly in accordance with the principle
of utility." The religious sanction is "more unequal, more
apt to change with times and individuals, more subject to
dangerous deviations." Instead of any preeminence in
the fear and love of God above other motives, it is thrust
down to the fourth and lowest place among the various
incentives and inducements to virtuous action.
How far is the sixfold error of Paley's definition,
increased and rendered ninefold in the rival system, re-
tained or renewed in Mr Mill's revised form of utilitarian
teaching? First, the externalism is retained. The motive,
we are told (p. 27, note), when it makes no difference in
the act, makes none in the morality; though, strange to
say, "it makes a great difference in our moral estimation
of the agent." Next, the view of good to be done is so
far modified, that a higher character, and not a mere
difference of quantity, is distinctly recognized in moral
and intellectual pleasures. The decision of relative value
is changed from Bentha m's "process of mora l arithmetic,"
reducible, in his opinion, to simple rules, to a wholly
different - standard, "the feelings and judgm ent of the
experienced," p." 1 6. ~^E!r3ly~the~ restriction of virtue
to social beneficence alone is partly remedied. Beligious
duty is still left wholly out of sight, but self-culture is
included in the range of virtue. One great defect of
Bentham's system is frankly acknowledged in these words.
"Man is never recognized by him as a being capable- of
44 THE SYSTEMS OF PALEY,
pursuing spiritual perfection as an end; of desiriDg, for
its own sake, the conformity of his own character to his
standard of excellence, without hope of good or fear of
evil from other source than his own inward consciousness:^
Even in the more limited form of conscience, this great
fact in human nature escapes him. Nothing is mor e
curious than the absence of recognition, in any of h is
writings, of-the existence of conscience, as_a_ thing disti nct
from philanthropy. froin~affectionJor God and man, a nd
from selt-interest in t his world or the next."
By this candid acknowledgment Mr Mill tacitly
abandons the system he seems to defend. For this
silence of which he complains is no mere accident. It
forms a necessary and logical result of the exclusive
basis on which the whole scheme of his master has been
reared.
Again, with regard to the rule of virtue, Mr Mill
points out a real defect 5 ' in Paley's standard, that he seems
to make it rest on a foundation of arbitrary power alone.
He ascribes, also, more weight and value than Bentham . :
has done to secondary rules, derived from the long ex-
perience of mankind. But he leaves the question, on what
principle or ground the rule of moral duty really depends;?
more obscure than ever. Is the revealed will of God, or is
it not, any part of this rule % Does it consist in an ideally
perfect calculation of results, never really made, and of
which a finite understanding is incapable ? Are we bound
to adopt for our guide the experience of past ages, em-
bodied in popular moral precepts, or the improved reckon-
ing and moral arithmetic of Bentham or some others
philosopher ? .Or must we renounce all these, and profess
allegiance to no other rule than fresh calculations of
our own? In this wide field of choice among slippery
BENTHAM, AND MILL. 45
alternatives, I do not see that Mr Mill gives us any help
towards a fixed and clear decision.
With regard to the motives of virtue, Mr Mill avoids
the common fault of Paley and Bentham, who restrict
them to those of self-interest alone. But, when compared
with Paley, the gain is almost balanced, or some would
think, more than balanced, by an equal loss. Immortality,
in his writings, may perhaps be left an open question.
But in his moral system there is at least a silent exclusion
of all motives derived from faith in the resurrection and
the life to come. Bright hopes are there indulged of im-
proved social arrangements, by which the range of disease
shall be abridged, human life prolonged, and poverty
shall disappear. As one result of these changes, the in-
stincts of social benevolence are to become a second nature ;
"until by the improvement of education, the feeling of
unity with our fellow-creatures shall be, what it cannot be
doubted that Christ intended it to be, as deeply rooted in
our character, and to our own consciousness as completely
a. part of our nature, as the horror of crime in a well-
brought-up young person." This undoubting confidence
that our Lord intended by His teaching to bring about
a higher moral state of mankind, never yet attained,
is the only substitute for all the usual articles of the
Christian faith, including the promises of life and immor-
tality in the gospel. This solitary recognition of the
Divine Teacher, and His high moral purpose, stands out
amidst a waste of absolute silence on all the truths and
hopes of religion, like a lonely and stately obelisk amidst
a dreary expanse of desert sand.
The revised system, then, of Mr Mill, when compared
with that of Paley, is slightly less partial and defective in
its statement of the subject of virtue, though it shares still
46 THE SYSTEMS OF PALEY,
in the double fault of mere externalism, and the total omis-
sion of religious duty, or a virtual abrogation of the first and
great commandment. In its rule it is still more defective,
since it omits all reference to the revealed will of God, and
leaves us wholly uncertain, in its doctrine of consequences,
on whose calculations, whether those of modern utilitarians,
of past generations of mankind, or our own, we ought
to depend. In its exhibition of motives it has one very
great improvement, since it discards the doctrine of pure
selfishness, and includes benevolence and an acquired con-
science of right and wrong. But it departs in another
way further from the truth, by confining its view to the
present world, and excluding practically all reference to
the doctrine of immortality and the life to come.
In closing the brief review of these three modern varie-
ties of utilitarianism, I cannot refrain from quoting once
more, after Dr Whewell, a few of the striking and elo-
quent words of Robert Hall, a writer with few equals in
eloquence, and not many superiors in vigour and clearness
of thought. They are aimed partly against the system of
Paley, and still more against the doctrine of Bentham,
soon after their first works on the grounds of morals had
both appeared.
"How is it that, on a subject on which men have
thought deeply from the moment they began to think, and
where consequently whatever is entirely and fundamen-
tally new must be fundamentally false, how is it that, in
contempt of the experience of past ages, and of all prece-
dents human and divine, we have ventured into a perilous
path which no eye has explored, no foot has trod; and
have undertaken, after the lapse of six thousand years, to
manufacture a morality of our own, to decide by a cold;|
calculation of interest, by a ledger book of profit and"
BENTHAM, AND MILL. 47
of loss, the preference of truth to falsehood, of piety
to blasphemy, and of humanity and justice to treachery
and blood?"
"In the science of morals "we are taught by this system
to consider nothing as yet done, we are invited to erect
a fresh fabric on a fresh foundation. All the elements
and sentiments, which entered into the essence of virtue
before, are melted down, and cast into a new mould.
Instead of appealing to any internal principle, everything
is left to calculation, and determined by expediency. In
executing this plan, the jurisdiction of conscience is abo-
lished, her decisions classed with those of a superannuated
judge, and the determination of moral causes is adjourned
from the interior tribunal to the noisy forum of specula-
tive debate. Everything is made an affair of calculation,
under which are comprehended not merely the duties we
owe to our fellow-creatures, but even the love and ado-
ration which the Supreme Being claims at our hands.
Everything is reversed. The pyramid is inverted, the
first is last, and the last first. Religion is degraded from
its preeminence into the mere handmaid of social morality,
social morality into an instrument for advancing the
welfare of society ; and the world is all in all."
LECTUKE II.
MILL'S CRITIQUE ON PALEY EXAMINED.
The fortunes of Paley as a moralist have undergone a
singular change. His work was received at first with
wide and general applause. It was early accepted for a
text-book in his own university, and impressed its tone-
on thousands of highly intelligent minds. Its clearness
and general ability gained warm praise even from those
who questioned the soundness of its first principles, and it
reigned widely in England for near half a century, as the
best modern work on ethical science. No sooner, however,;
was it assailed in Cambridge by the patrons of a rival
school of ethics, than still heavier blows were aimed against
it by those other advocates of utility and the doctrine of
consequences, who might have been expected to be its
friends. Utilitarianism might be dear to them, but their
own political and religious theories were dearer still. The
principle, highly flexible in itself, had not been used by
Paley to work out that " subversive thinking," to borrow
Mr Mill's own phrase, for which they chiefly prized it.
He had combined it, though neither with a deep theology^
nor doctrines of high prerogative, yet with a sincere faith
in a diluted Christianity, and temperate attachment to
MILL'S CRITIQUE ON PALEY EXAMINED. 49
existing institutions. Hence the zealots for progress saw
in him only a concealed traitor in the camp of modern
philosophy, who had attempted to steal from them that
powerful artillery, by which, in their own hands, a host of
antiquated abuses and religious prejudices were to be
overthrown.
"Philosophical controversy," Professor Grote has said,
"is a worse confusion than a battle without generals or
discipline, and when we come to morals and ethics, the
dust and smoke become tenfold worse." Of this hum-
bling truth the subject of this Lecture affords, I think, a
striking illustration. My object in this course is to com-
pare and analyse the chief modern varieties of the doc-
trine, which bases the definition of moral right and wrong
on general consequences alone. For forty years since
the death of Bentham, this school has been in ceaseless
war with its rivals, by turns assailing and assailed. The
conflict began with a vigorous and able attack on Paley's
system in Professor Sedgwick's eloquent Discourse. He is
treated with great respect, but his views are singled out
for censure, because his Moral Philosophy had been the
chief type of utilitarian ethics for Cambridge students.
Mr Mill defends the doctrine assailed with still greater
vehemence. But the first step in his defence of it is to
reject wholly the claims of Paley as an utilitarian moralist,
to depreciate his merits as a writer, and to load his
memory with severe imputations, which have no warrant
but the strength of hostile prejudice alone.
I am no admirer of Paley's moral system. I can
scarcely adopt the language of Sedgwick and Coleridge,
both opponents of his main principle, whose warm praise
of his writings, in other respects, rather exceeds the
bounds of sober truth. But the laws of fair controversy
B. L. II. 4
50 MILL'S CRITIQUE ON
seem to me strangely violated, when those who share his
worst defect deny his intellectual merits, and impute to
him, without the least proof, aims and motives of the;
lowest and least honourable kind. At the outset of this
inquiry I think it almost due to Cambridge to show that
Mr Mill's contempt for a writer, so long had in honour
amongst us, is mainly due to prejudice alone. The ba-
lances in which he weighs the Christian advocate and
the reforming jurist are utterly wanting in philosophical
accuracy and truth. I believe also that a temperate vin-
dication of Paley from causeless reproach may enable us
to gain some light, in the course of the Lecture, on highly
important questions in ethical science.
The course of Mr Mill in this matter is very strange.
He begins by charging Professor Sedgwick, who has
praised Paley almost to excess, with having treated him
with extreme contumely, and then proceeds at once to
commit the very fault he has untruly imputed to an-
other. " Of Paley's work," he says, " we think on the -whole
meanly." Utilitarianism cannot fairly be judged by his
system, for no one is entitled to found an argument against
a system on the faults and blunders of a particular writer;
What would be thought of an assailant of Christianity,
who should judge of its tendency from the views of the
Jesuits or the Shakers? Neither his character nor ob-
jects were those of a philosopher. He had "no single-
minded earnestness for truth, no intrepid defiance of
prejudice. He has a particular set of conclusions to come
to, and will not allow himself to let in premises which
interfere with them. When an author starts with suck
an object, it is of little consequence what premises he
sets out from. He had not only to maintain existing
doctrines but existing practices also. When an author
PALEY EXAMINED. 5 1
knows beforehand the -conclusions which he is to come
to, he is not likely to seek far for grounds to rest them
upon."
The same charge of direct dishonesty is made a fourth
time in the later review. " As for Paley," he there says,
" we resign him without compunction to the tender mer-
cies of Dr Whewell." But the wounds of Dr Whewell,
who holds the doctrine of utility to be mischievous and
unsound, are the piercings of a sword in direct and
open controversy. Mr Mill, who advocates that prin-
ciple, instead of relieving a comrade wounded in his own
cause, adds the thrust of a dagger, and imputes to him
once more the most dishonourable and unworthy motives.
" It concerns Dr Whewell more than ourselves to uphold
the reputation of a writer, who, whatever principle of
morals he professes, seems to have had no object but to
insert it as a foundation underneath the existing set of
opinions, ethical and political ; who took his leave of
scientific analysis, and betook himself to picking up utili-
tarian reasons by the wayside, in proof of all accredited
doctrines, and in defence of most tolerated practices.
Bentham was a moralist of another stamp."
In these censures Mr Mill follows in the wake of
Dr Bowring, who, out of jealousy for Bentham's preemi-
nence, rails against Paley, in the Deontology, in a still
more outrageous style. If reckless abuse of celebrated
writers, whose religious creed or political leanings dis-
please us, is genuine sunlight from the new "orb of utili-
tarian felicity," the sooner it sets below the horizon the
better it must be, both for the honour of literature, and
the peace and harmony of the world.
Let us now hear the verdict of candid opponents of
Paley's moral theory on his true eminence and merit as a
4—2
52 MILL'S CRITIQUE ON
writer. First, Coleridge is placed by Mr Mill side by
side with Bentham, bis own favourite, as one of tbe two
"seminal minds of tbe age." Does he, wbile opposing
bis doctrine, tbink meanly of bis work, or cbarge him
with dishonesty? On the contrary he speaks of him as
follows : " 0, if I were fond and ambitious of literary
honour, of public applause, how well content would I be
to excite but one third of the admiration which in my
inmost being I feel for tbe head and heart of Paley ! How
gladly would I surrender all hope of contemporary praise,
could I even approach to the uncomparable force, propriety,
and persuasive facility of his writings ! But on this very
account "• — that is, not because he dealt dishonestly with
Mr Mill's doctrine of utility, but because be held it at all ;
not becaxise he held fast to tbe old prejudice of faith in
Christianity, but because be pared it down to the mere
proof of a life to come, — "I believe myself," he continues,
"bound in conscience to throw the whole force of my
intellect in the way of the triumphal car, on which the
tutelary genius of modern idolatry is borne, even at the
risk of being crushed under its wheels."
Such is tbe view of Paley's merits, which one of Mr
Mill's two seminal minds deliberately held. He passes by
the other seminal mind in total silence, and regards Paley
as the ablest, tbe most effective, and the most worthy
champion of the theory to which he himself is opposed.
Let us now listen to that "extreme contumely," which
Professor Sedgwick deals out to him in his Discourse, and
for which be incurs Mr Mill's reproof. "I would ever
wish," he says, " to speak with reverence of a man whose
name is an honour to our academical body, and who did,,
I believe, during bis time, much more for the cause of
revealed truth than any other writer of his country. His
PALEY EXAMINED. 53
homely strength and clearness of style, and his unrivalled
skill in stating and following out his argument, must ever
make his writings popular. Speaking for myself, I cannot
describe in terms too strong the delight I once experi-
enced in studying his Moral Philosophy, where truth
after truth seemed to flash upon the mind with all the
force of demonstration, on questions, too, which in other
hands seemed only involved in mystery and doubt. On
this account, if there be a defective principle in his
system, it ought boldly to be combated, lest the influence
of his name and charm of his manner should lead us
further from the truth."
The tender mercies of Dr Whewell, to which Mr Mill
is willing to resign Paley, with some added favours of his
own .of a very different kind, are thus expressed. "In
Paley 's mode of executing his task he displayed a modera-
tion, a shrewdness, and a pregnant felicity of idiomatic
expression, which it was impossible not to admire. If the
work had been entitled 'Morality, as derived from the
principle of general utility,' and the principle had been
assumed as evident or undisputed, the work might have
been received by the world with unmingled gratitude; and
the excellent sense and temper which, for the most part,
it shows in the application of rules, might have produced
their beneficial effect without any drawback."
Again, an early admirer and correspondent of Bentham,
Mr Wilson, writes of Paley 's work on its appearance, and
before Bentham had published anything but the Fragment,
in these words of high praise. "Notwithstanding some
weak places, it is a capital book, and by much the best
that has been written on the subject in this country.
Almost everything that he says about morals, government,
and our own constitution, is sound, practical, and free from
54 MILL'S CRITIQUE ON
commonplace. He has got many of your notions about
punishment, which I always thought the most important
of your discoveries; and I very much fear, if you ever
do publish on those subjects, you may be charged with
stealing from him what you have honestly invented with
the sweat of your own brow."
Such was the honest impression made by the work on
one of Mr. Bentham's warmest admirers, when the Theory
of Legislation was still unpublished, and when the Moral
Philosophy had just appeared, and gone quickly .through
two editions.
Forty years later Sir J. Mackintosh, in his Disserta-
tions, a writer of well-known ability, fairness, and candour,
writes of Paley in these words. "This excellent writer,
who, after Clarke and Butler, ought to be ranked among
the brightest ornaments of the English Church in the
eighteenth century, is in the history of philosophy naturally
placed after Tucker, to whom, with praiseworthy liberality,
he acknowledges his extensive obligation. His style is
as near perfection in its kind as any in our language.
Perhaps no words were ever more expressive and illustra-
tive than those in which he represents the art of life to be
that of rightly ' setting our habits.' The manner in which
he deduces the necessary tendency of all virtuous actions
to our general happiness from the goodness of the Divine
Lawgiver is characterized by a clearness and vigour which
have never been surpassed. His political principles were
those generally adopted by moderate Whigs in his own
age. His language on the Revolution of 1688 may be
very advantageously compared to that of Blackstone, both
for its precision and generous boldness."
The able and learned author of the History of Eu-
ropean Morals, published only four years ago, may be a
PALEY EXAMINED. 55
sixth and last witness. Mr Leckie is familiar with the
writings of Mr Mill and his father, and the earlier and
more recent ethical literature. He belongs to the ad-
vanced liberal school, both in politics and religion, and
gives his comparative estimate of Paley and Bentham in
these words. "Paley's chapter on Happiness is at the head
of all modern writings on the utilitarian side, being far more
valuable than anything Bentham ever wrote on morals.
This last writer, whose contempt for his predecessors was
only equalled by his ignorance of their works, and who has
added surprisingly little to moral science, considering the
reputation he has attained, except a barbarous nomencla-
ture and an interminable series of classifications, evincing
no real subtlety of thought, makes, as far as I am aware,
no use of the doctrine of association. In our own day
it has been much used by Mr John Stuart Mill. Paley
states it with his usual admirable clearness."
Thus five distinguished writers of the opposite school,
Coleridge, Mackintosh, Sedgwick, Whewell, and Leckie,
all seem to agree that Paley has a higher claim than Ben-
tham to the first place among modern utilitarians. But
even apart from this relative estimate of one, of whom Mr
Mill thinks meanly, his blame of Professor Sedgwick for
the selection he has made is ridiculous and unaccountable.
His Discourse was expressly on the studies of the Univer-
sity. Tlie writings of Paley, and not of Bentham, still
less Mr Mill's revised system, then unborn, were those
by which utilitarian ethics were known and obtained
currency at Cambridge. However Bentham might be
lauded by an inner circle of admirers, or whatever his
influence among English lawyers, or foreign liberals, it is
probable that Paley, at the date of the Discourse, had
done tenfold more to secure the prevalence of the doc-f
56 MILL'S CRITIQUE ON
trine of expediency among the educated classes of our
own land.
From Mr Mill's intellectual depreciation of Paley I
pass to his more serious charge of moral dishonesty. When
a critic turns aside to impute bad motives to an author
of high reputation, at least his evidence ought to be clear
and strong. Is it plain, then, as Mr Mill so often affirms,
that Paley cared nothing for the doctrine of utility, but
used it as a convenient tool for a blind conservatism,,
or that he betrays a fixed purpose to prop up all existing
doctrines and defend existing practices, whether right or
wrong? The representation is little better than a monstrous
inversion of the real truth. The first feature in the work
is an attack on the existing " Law of Honour." And here
Sir J. Mackintosh, himself an eminent liberal statesman
and philosopher, charges him with a fault the exact re-
verse of that which forms the burden of Mr Mill's
repeated invective. He says " that Paley's strictures are
excessive, because his disposition to look at his principles
merely as far as they were calculated to amend prevalent :
vices and errors betrayed him into narrow and false views."
And this description, when compared with its converse,
seems rather nearer to the truth. The reason Paley ex-
pressly gives for rejecting a moral sense as his groundwork
is this, that " a system of morality, built upon instincts,
will only find out reasons and excuses for opinions and
practices already established, and will seldom correct or
reform either."
But let us enter into a few details. Mr Mill praises
Bentham, as if he had been the first to lay down clearly
the duty of kindness to animals. It is found in the Book
of Proverbs ages before, and Paley, before any work of
Bentham except the Fragment had appeared, lays it down
PALET EXAMINED. 57
tersely and in few words. " Wanton, and what is worse,
studied cruelty to brutes, is certainly wrong, as coming
within one of these reasons." The chief addition Bentham
has made is a seeming exaltation of Gentooism and Maho-
metanism above Christianity, and a characteristic charge
of selfishness and tyranny, without distinction, against
all past generations of mankind. In the first third of
the Moral Philosophy, which has the largest share of
general discussion, and least of detailed application, I
find censure of the following malpractices or moral de-
fects, prevalent in society : the law of honour ; inequality
in property, when not inseparable from the rules by
which industry is encouraged and its fruits secured ; abuse
of the letter of law, to avoid the fulfilment of an equi-
table contract; concealment of faults in the sale of
goods ; wagers based on secret information ; the pro-
hibition of interest, with an implied censure on the laws
of usury; the obedience of servants to unlawful com-
mands of their masters, whether to conceal their frauds
or forward their unlawful pleasures ; the neglect of mas-
ters to restrain domestic vice ; the consumption of church
funds without discharge of any ecclesiastical duties; fiction
and exaggeration in private conversation; pious frauds;
acted lies; lies of omission; designed concealment of
truth in giving evidence ; all contrivances for evading
the oath against bribery, which "may escape the legal
penalties of perjury, but incur its moral guilt;" sub-
scription to articles, whenever the subscriber " is not first
convinced that he is truly and substantially satisfying
the intention of the legislature;" all unkindness and
want of consideration to domestics and dependents ; and
last of all the slave-trading and slave-holding of our
English colonies. These were strongly denounced and
58 MILL'S CRITIQUE ON
condemned by Paley, when the agitation of Clarkson and
Wilberforce to abate and remove these evils had hardly,
yet begun. r
How, then, shall we explain, in a writer usually fair
and candid, repeated charges against Paley of this kind,
opposed to the plainest facts? The solution is easy.
Utility is a highly elastic doctrine, and is capable of
assuming widely different forms. Its calculations involve
so many and such complex elements, that, except in the
simplest cases, the results are sure to depend on the bias
in the computer's own mind. With Bentham and his
first disciples, its value consisted in supplying a moral
leverage for vehement assaults on existing laws and insti-
tutions, and on religious creeds, which they looked upon
as worn-out superstitions, and hindrances to the progress of
mankind. They undertook to regenerate society by a newly
invented moral arithmetic of their own. A simple rejec-
tion of their favourite doctrine was easy to bear -with
silent contempt. It was a proof of mental childhood, and
nothing more. But its adoption by Paley, even earlier
than by their own master, and its wider currency in his
hands, along with a temperate approval of the British
Constitution, and an able advocacy of supernatural revela-
tion, was like a theft of their own property, a wrong, and
almost a sacrilege, hardly to be borne. ■ The doctrine of
utility might be dear to them, but its application to what
Mr Mill styles candidly " subversive thinking," was dearer
still. Thus Paley came naturally to be looked on with
special aversion, as a traitor to the uniform he seemed to
wear. He had stolen into the camp of their reforming
philosophy, and striven to carry off their best artillery,
and then to use it in defence of doctrines to which they
were wholly opposed ; that is, the general excellence and
PALEY EXAMINED. 59
merit of the British laws and constitution, and the Divine
origin and authority of the Christian faith.
Professor Sedgwick and Mr Mill agree, then, in cen-
suring Paley, hut on very opposite grounds. The former
gives him high praise in all other respects ; but he sees
in him the ablest and most effective teacher of the doc-
trine of expediency, which he thinks mischievous and
debasing, and blames him strongly for this reason alone.
The sole defect, in the eyes of one critic, is the one re-
deeming feature, grudgingly and sparingly allowed, in the
view of the other. Mr Mill considers Paley to bear the
like relation to orthodox and consistent utilitarians, as
Jesuits or Shakers to sensible and honest Christian be-
lievers. He did not understand the doctrine he professed,
and only blundered in expounding it. Of his work he
thinks meanly. Its faults arise in no sense from the doc-
trine of utility, but from a religious element unskilfully
attached to it, and from personal selfishness and insin-
cerity, by which he made it a convenient pretext for
propping up false doctrines that were in vogue, and
casting a shield over existing corruptions in church and
state. Such an accusation against one who was so long
held in high honour at Cambridge is a public indictment
against the university to which he belonged. If untrue,
its falsehood ought to be exposed and repelled. The ques-
tion is not whether there are serious defects in Paley's
work. It is whether they arise from his acceptance of the
doctrine of utility, or whether they are departures from it,
and are due to his attempt to combine it with a religious
element, or else to his intellectual incompetency and dis-
honesty of purpose alone.
The charges Mr Mill has brought against him are
these. First, that he degrades utility from its rightful
60 MILL'S CRITIQUE ON
place, as the source of moral obligation, making it a mere
index to the will of God, and nothing more. Next, that
by making that will the ultimate ground of duty, he
annihilates morality, and reduces the doctrine of God's
moral government to a misnomer and a delusion. Thirdly,
that he makes selfishness one main element in the consti-
tution of virtue ; so that the only motive which renders an
action virtuous is the hope of heaven and the fear of hell.
Fourthly, that his character and objects were not those of
a philosopher, but of a time-server, a modern Demetrius,
resolved to justify profitable abuses, and caring little by
what sophism this could be done. Fifthly, that with pre-
vailing maxims of morals he borrowed the prevailing
laxity in their application. To this bias, and not to the
doctrine of utility, is ascribed his teaching on lies, sub-
scription to articles, and abuses of political influence.
Sixthly, that the considerations of expediency on which
he grounds his rules are of the most obvious and vulgar
kind ; tbat the effect of actions on the formation of cha-
racter is overlooked ; that he had meditated little on that
branch of the subject, and had no ideas on it but the com-
monest and the most superficial. Clear and comprehensive
views upon it, Mr Mill affirms, must precede a philosophy
of morals, and form its basis. The materials for this are
already ample, but not complete, and much yet remains to
be done. To collect them and add to them will be the
labour of sound and orthodox utilitarian philosophers in
successive generations. All these charges, except the
second and third, I believe to be groundless and untrue ;
and even these are exaggerated, and so far as they are
true, are faults shared equally, in one case by Mr Mill
himself, and in both by the master whom, in contrast to
Paley, he so highly extols. The discussion is important,
PALEY EXAMINED. 6 1
wholly apart from its bearing on Paley's personal cha-
racter and the credit of his university, from the great
questions it involves, which belong to the deepest founda-
tions and the most seminal and vital principles of moral
science.
I. First, utility, according to Mr Mill, is " itself the
source of moral obligation." Paley degrades it from its
true place, into " a mere index to the will of God,"
which he regards as the ultimate groundwork of all
morality, and the origin of its binding force. This doc-
trine, that utility is an index to the Divine will and
nothing else, he thinks highly exceptionable, having really
many of those bad effects erroneously ascribed to the prin-
ciples of utility.
Now the view of Paley on this subject combines one
great merit with a great defect. The merit is that he
aims to reconcile and unite all the three elements which
must enter into a genuine and comprehensive scheme of
morals, the personal, the social, and the divine. His system
includes personal prudence, social philanthropy, and reli-
gious faith and piety. His great fault, logically, is that
instead of recognizing their co-existence and joint pre-
sence in every part of the system, he isolates them from
each other, assigning to each a monopoly in one part only.
In his definition of the substance of virtue, the social ele-
ment stands alone, in its rule or law, the religious, and
in its motive, the personal. But his good sense mitigates
this great defect by numerous inconsistencies, as when two
whole books are given to those personal ■ and religious
duties, which the definition would exclude from any place
within the range of human virtue.
This very imperfect junction, in Paley, of the three main
elements of morals, his rivals avoid by committing another
62 MILL'S CRITIQUE ON
fault, still greater and less excusable. They omit the most
important of these elements altogether. Their moral
arithmetic, to borrow Bentham's phrase, involves a series
of sums with three different denominations. Of these they
omit the pounds, and take note of the shillings and pence
only. Or to use a higher style, more suited to the vast
importance of the subject, in their systems the first great
commandment of the law finds no place whatever. Their
moral calculations nowhere include "the resurrection of
the dead, and the life of the world to come." The will of
God, as a rule, is made a mere attendant on human fore-
casts of the expedient ; and as a motive, under the name of
the religious sanction, where it could not be wholly over-
looked, it occupies the last and lowest place. The teaching
of Paley is too open to the censure of Robert Hall, that
" religion is degraded from its pre-eminence into the mere
handmaid of social morality." Still the services of the
handmaid are prized so highly, that on these the comfort
and welfare of the household, and even the bonds of its
union, are made to depend. In the rival systems the hand-
maid is dispensed with, and disappears.
A much simpler problem thus remains, how to recon-
cile the personal and social elements in the ethics of
utility. But here the two leaders disagree. The theories
of Bentham are based on one great postulate, the natural
and universal selfishness of mankind. Moralists, he says,
have wasted their time by talking of duties, while men are
thinking of their interests, as it is proper and natural for
them to do. But he claims' benevolence for himself, and
seems willing to share the honour with a small number of
philosophers and legislators, as a happy accident. And
the form of this unexplained benevolence is a diligent
effort to frame laws by which men, though naturally and
PALEY EXAMINED. 63
properly selfish, may be kept from doing harm, or even
trained to do good, to their fellow-men. But Mr Mill
adopts at once, from intuitive theories, the one grand
maxim, that the happiness of mankind is that greatest
good, and noblest aim, which each individual is bound to
pursue. He .thus confines the province of utility to the
detection of secondary rules, whereby to fulfil the lofty
aim of universal benevolence.
But besides the greater defect in Mr Mill's own moral
system, his description of Paley's doctrine is misleading
and confused. For the latter clearly recognises two ele-
ments in human virtue, and ascribes each of them to a
different source. Utility, or conduciveness to the good
of mankind, is viewed as the definition of the goodness
of actions, but the will of God as the source of their moral
obligation. On the same view there are two means by
which our knowledge of right action may be gained, the
revealed commands of God, or reasoning on their con-
sequences. The connecting link is our knowledge, by a,
posteriori evidence, of the Divine benevolence. In one
case we learn directly the moral obligation from the
revealed command of God, and infer the goodness. In the
other case, we learn or reason out the goodness directly,
and infer the moral obligation. But in Mr Mill's expo-
sition the contrast, so clearly marked in Paley's scheme, is
wholly lost sight of; and a defective view of moral ob-
ligation is confounded with something wholly different,
the dependence of virtue or moral goodness, in its very
nature and essence, on arbitrary acts of the Divine will.
The second charge, and one of the most important, is
in these words :
"The only view of the connection between religion
and morality, which does not annihilate the very idea of
64 MILL'S CRITIQUE ON
the latter, is that which considers the Deity as not making,
but recognising and sanctioning, moral obligation. Why
should 1 obey my Maker ? From gratitude ? Then grati-
tude is in itself obligator}', independently of my Maker's
will. From reverence and love ? But why is He a proper
object of love and reverence? Not because he is my
Maker. If I had been made by an evil spirit for evil pur-
poses, my love and reverence would have been due, not to
the evil, but to the good Being. Is it because He is just,
righteous, merciful ? Then these attributes are in them-
selves good, independently of His pleasure. If virtue
would not be virtue unless the Creator commanded it, if
it derive all its obligatory force from His will, there re-
mains no ground for obeying Him except His power ; no
motive for morality except the selfish one of the hope of
heaven, or the selfish and slavish one of the fear of hell."
This censure is just and true in substance, though not
wholly in form. It singles out a grave and serious defect
in Paley's ethical system. Mr Mill here rises for once
above the low marshy ground of his sensational philo-
sophy and utilitarian ethics, and takes his stand, to con-
demn Paley, on the higher level of Plato and Cudworth, or
of eternal, immutable, and intuitive morality. The mere
will of a Superior, even if that Superior be almighty and
supreme, does not satisfy the requirements of conscience
as the ultimate basis or test of right and wrong. The con-
ception of Divine Goodness is deeper and more central than
that of Almighty Power. All the declarations of Scripture
on the moral perfections of God are robbed of their whole
force, and become simply delusive, if good and evil were
arbitrary creations, reversible at His pleasure who had
first appointed them. The attribute of bare, naked power,
would then swallow up the still higher attributes of good-
PALEY EXAMINED. 65
ness and wisdom, and the question of the patriarch be-
come an unmeaning folly — " Shall not the Judge of all the
earth do right 1"
But while the main idea in the criticism is true and
important, and rises to a higher point of view than Mr
Mill usually attains, it is weighted and obscured, as an
ethical statement, by three serious errors. The charge
here made applies really with as much force to the
objector's own view. It is enforced by a total misstatement
of the facts with regard to previous writers, and by a
hypothetical case, revolting in sound, ambiguous in mean-
ing, and in the only reasonable sense of the words impos-
sible and untrue.
The charge against Paley is that he assumes too low
and imperfect a ground for moral obligation, the will of
God, with no reference beyond to the moral character or
goodness of that Will. The objector bases it on utility, or
the conduciveness of actions, in their results and conse-
quences, to the happiness of mankind. But this basis is
vague and ambiguous, and needs to be more clearly
denned. The consequences on which morality is founded
may be either total and complete, or foreseen and partial,
or possible and conjectural, or necessary and inevitable, or
natural only, discerned by observation from the actual
constitution of the world. The first would make all know-
ledge of right impossible, except for prophets gifted with
omniscience. The two next would make it depend on the
measure of human ignorance, and degrade all moral judg-
ments into mere uncertain guess work. Two alternatives
remain, that the consequences, which form the true basis
of morals, and determine the utility of actions, are neces-
sary and inevitable, or simply natural. If necessary, this
implies moral distinctions in the tempers or actions them T
B. L. II. 5
66 MILL'S CRITIQUE ON
selves, from which kindred results follow, and this through
no positive appointment or decree, but tfivcrei, or by the
essential and unalterable nature of things. We are thus
■ landed in the region of a morality immutable and eternal,
a fixed and inseparable element in all created intelligence,
reflecting that law of essential goodness in the Creator/
which is higher and deeper than the active energy of will.
Utilitarianism, as a theory, will expire, because the conse-
quences are only the imperfect and dim reflection of a
character which must have preexisted, before the results
could follow. It will resolve itself into the old message of
the prophet — "Say ye to the righteous that it shall be
well with him, for he shall eat the fruit of his doings.'?
To retain the objector's theory, we are thus shut up to the
hypothesis that the consequences spoken of are natural,
but not necessary; that they do not flow inevitably from
the moral nature of the acts, but are only found by ex-
perience to be attached to them in the actual constitution
of human affairs. In other words, that they are positive
appointments of the Divine will. Whoever believes in
God at all must believe that the actual state of society
and of human life, so far as it does not include laws and re*
lations immutable in their own nature, or a kind of moral
geometry, discerned by the Supreme Wisdom, but not
created by the Supreme Will, must be due to the choice
and appointment of that Will of God. The conclusion is
plain and inevitable. Utilitarianism proper shares the
main fault of Paley's doctrine, and adds to it another of its
own. The former view seems to base moral obligation,-;
simply and directly, on arbitrary power. In the theory of'
•Dr Brown it is based on the same, indirectly, through^
positive and arbitrary appointment of the emotions which
certain kinds of actions are made to excite in the human
PALEY EXAMINED. 6f
_^
heart. In the utilitarian creed the arbitrary power ope-
rates still more indirectly, by positive arrangements of
the consequences of actions, as well as of the emotions
with which men are taught to regard them. Thus Paley's
scheme is based simply on arbitrary power, and that of
Mill and Bentham on the same arbitrary will, but con-
cealing itself in ambush behind the laws of nature, so as
to be really a perpetual fraud on the reason of mankind.
Again, the censure is accompanied with the following
historical remark.
" In the minds of most English thinkers, down to the
middle of last century, the idea of duty and that of obe-
dience to God were so indissolubly united as to be un-
separable even in thought. And when we consider how
in those days religious motives and ideas stood in the
front of all speculations, it is not wonderful that religion
should have been thought the essence of all obligations
to which it annexed its sanction. To have inquired,
Why am I obliged to obey God's will? would to a
Christian of that age have appeared irreverent. It is
a question, however, which as much as any other requires
an answer from a Christian philosopher."
Here we are told that the strength of religious faith,
down to the middle of last century, among English
thinkers, rendered clear ideas of morality impossible. The
great question of the relation between moral obligation
and the Divine will, could not even be proposed. It
seems implied that moral insight has increased through
the weakened power of religious faith and reverence on
the minds of men. But the assertion is palpably and
even ridiculously untrue. Few subjects have been more
frequently touched upon by Christian philosophers and
divines, both in our own and other lands. Hooker speaks?
5— a
68 MILL'S CRITIQUE ON
of it in those noted words, — " The perfection which God
is, giveth perfection to that he doeth." It is discussed at
some length, and with more accuracy and insight than
Mr Mill, from his point of view, could bestow upon it, iif
Baxter's Reasons of the Christian Religion. It forms the
main idea in Cudworth's celebrated treatise on Immutable
Morality. It enters largely into the writings of John Smith
More, Clarke, and other moralists of that age. And, unless
English divines lay under some special paralysis of thought
beyond their predecessors, the aspersion is disproved by Mr
Mill's own statement in the footnote of his latest work
{Examination of Sir W. Hamilton, p. 175) where he
remarks on a treatise of Mr Ward: "I think his book
of great practical worth by the strenuous manner in which
he maintains morality to have another foundation than
the arbitrary decree of God, and shows, by a great weight
of evidence, that this is the orthodox doctrine of the'
Roman Catholic Church." What contradiction can be
more complete ? How can there be an orthodox doctrine
of the Romish Church in one special solution of a great
question, which Christian Divines, down to the middle of
last century, out of false reverence never ventured to
propose ?
A startling assertion follows. "If any person has the
misfortune to believe that his Creator commands wicked-
ness, more respect is due to him for disobeying such
imaginary commands than for obeying them." When
a writer uses words revolting and unnatural to pious ears,
and puts a case when it might be a merit, in his eyes, to,
disobey our Creator, we have a right to claim at least that
he shall avoid ambiguous terms, and rigorously define
his true meaning. But here the words are so ambiguous,
that it is hard to say what Mr Mill really means. First,
PALEY EXAMINED. 6$
by 'wickedness we must certainly understand particular
acts, or a course of conduct, thought to be wicked. The
error or misfortune may refer to any one of those alterna-
tive opinions. First, that certain acts are held to be com-
manded by God, when the command is a false imagination,
and they are really wicked. Secondly, that things are com-
manded, and thereby rendered a duty, which would have
been wicked, apart from special Divine command. Thirdly,
that certain acts are believed to be wrong and wicked,
even while it is also believed that God has commanded
them to be done. In the first case, there can be no merit
in disobeying the voice of conscience, even when it is
diseased and defiled. The only doubt must be which of
two alternatives is the greater evil. The second case
includes a large class of actions, at least conceivable,
which would be wrong without an express command of
God, but which, if so commanded, might be proofs of the
strongest faith and greatest virtue. Such, for instance,
Was the sacrifice of Isaac, a crowning act in a long course
of triumphant faith, followed by a glorious recompence;
The third case is one neither of merit nor demerit in
either course of conduct, but of mental lunacy. He who
can believe that the Supremely Good has commanded acts
which he at the same time reckons still to be wicked,
must be more fit for an asylum, than to be set up by any
sensible moralist as capable of acquiring merit either by
obedience or disobedience to a judgment so diseased.
■' III. A third error and fault of Paley is given in
these words.
" In strict consistency with this view of the nature of
morality, Paley represents the motive to virtue, and the
motive which constitutes it virtue, as consisting solely
in -the- hope- of- heaven, and thejfear of hell. It does not
70 MILL'S CRITIQUE ON
follow that he believed mankind to have no feelings
except selfish ones. He doubtless would have admitted
that they are acted upon by other motives, or in the
language of Bentham and Helvetius, have other interests
than merely self-regarding ones. But he chose to say
that actions done from those other motives are not virtuous.
The happiness of mankind, according to him, was the end for
which morality was enjoined ; yet he would not admit any-
thing to be morality, when the happiness of mankind,, or
of any one except ourselves, is the inducement to it. He
annexed an arbitrary meaning to the word virtue. How
he came to think this the right one may be a question.
'Partly, perhaps, by the habit of thinking and talking of
morality under the metaphor of a law. In the notion of
law the idea of the command of a superior, enforced by
penalties, is of course the main element."
The blame here is in substance deserved. The selfish
motive of virtue, in Paley's teaching, was one standing
complaint of the opponents of utilitarianism, from Gisborne
and Eobert Hall, through Mackintosh and Sedgwick, down
to Mr Leckie and Professor Blackie in the present day.
Mr Mill could not fail to seize on a topic so familiar.
Thus Mackintosh remarks that " it is a necessary conse-
quence of Paley's proposition, that every act which flows
from generosity or benevolence is a vice. So also of every
act of obedience to the will of God, if it arises from any
motive but a desire of the reward He will bestow. It must
be owned," he continues, "that this excellent and most
enlightened man has laid the foundations of religion in a
more intense and exclusive selfishness than was avowed
by the Catholic enemies of Fenelon, when they persecuted
him for his doctrine of pure and disinterested love of
God." And Professor Sedgwick remarks to the same effect
PALSY EXAMINED. 7*
"Virtue becomes a question of calculation, a matter of
profit and loss ; and if a man gain heaven at all on such
a system, it must be by arithmetical details, the balance
of his moral ledger. A conclusion such as this offends
against the spirit breathing in every page of the book of
life, yet is it fairly drawn from the principles of utility."
The main fact, then, is admitted, but two questions
remain. Is the fault of Paley really so gross as some of
these strictures imply ? Has Mr Mill any right to blame
Paley and his other censors with equal severity, and to
charge those with extreme ignorance who, like Professor
Sedgwick, ascribe the fault to the doctrine of utility as its
proper and natural source ? I believe it may be shown
that Paley's doctrine, when his own expositions of it are
allowed, differs not very widely from what Bentham's
theory becomes, after it has received Mr Mill's latest
improvements; and, with all its serious defects, is perhaps-
one degree nearer to the full and perfect truth.
The words of Paley's definition would certainly warrant
the strange conclusion drawn from them by Mackintosh
and Mr Mill, if strictly taken, and if they stood alone.
But they do not stand alone. In expounding his very
faulty view of the meaning of moral obligation, he clears
himself from the natural charge of really meaning to
include the selfish motive in the proper definition of
virtue. "As we should not be obliged," he says, "to
obey the laws or the magistrates, unless rewards or pun-
ishments, pleasure or pain, depended on our obedience,
so neither should we, without the same reason, be obliged
to do what is right, to practise virtue, or to obey the com-
mands of God." Here, plainly, what is right, virtue, and.
the commands of God, are distinguished from and con-
trasted with the. "violent motive" by which they are
72 MILL'S CRITIQUE ON
enforced, and which he confounds with moral obligation.*
Thus his real error clears him from another, which the
words of his definition might seem to imply. And this is
made still more plain from his remark on habitual virtue,
in which he states a natural objection to the definition
he has proposed, and gives his own solution. "A man,"
he says, "may in fact perform many an act of virtue,
without having either the good of mankind, the will of
God, or everlasting happiness in his thought. How is this
to be understood ? In the same manner as a man may he
a very good servant, without being conscious, at every
turn, of a particular regard to his master's will, or an
express attention to his interest. Indeed your best old
servants are of this sort. But then he must have served
for a length of time under the direction of these motives,
to bring it to this ; in which service his merit and virtue
consist."
The faulty wording, then, or wrong name of Pale/s
definition, seems to have disguised from hasty observers
his real doctrine, which may be thus explained. Virtue is
properly defined by utility, or the better phrase of " doing
good to mankind." But of this virtue two species are
recognized, one formed or habitual, the other in active
process of formation. The starting-point assumed is the
natural and universal desire for personal happiness. But
this instinct of self-love needs to be "moralized," or
trained by outward motives in the needful direction of
beneficence or social kindness. Paley introduces the
promises of religion, or the hope of eternal happiness,;
as the great moralizing power. Hence he remarks pre-
sently, — "Such as reject the Christian religion are to
make the best shift they can to build up a system, and
lay the foundation of morality, without it. But it ap>
PALEY EXAMINED. J$
pears to me a great inconsistency in those who receive
Christianity, and expect something to come of it, to
endeavour to keep all such expectations out of sight in
their reasonings on human duty."
The doctrine of Paley, thus explained by his own
words, will be found to differ but little from Mr Mill's
professed improvement on Bentham's theory. The second
thoughts or more complete thinking, by which the latter
would remedy what he calls the incomplete thinking of
the teacher he extols, bring him really very near to the
position assumed before his birth by the writer of whom
he thinks meanly, and whose motives and character he
defames. The starting-point of mere self-love, or man's
instinctive desire for personal happiness, is common to
them all. The description of virtue, as mainly consisting
in outward actions directed to the general happiness,
is common to them also. A third principle they all
receive is that instinctive self-love needs to be trained by
outward motives and sanctions into the higher form of
instinctive benevolence. The self-love, however, common
to the three writers, is left by Bentham in its bare and
naked form of worldly, selfish prudence. He ridicules
the notion that men should be expected to be influenced
by duty, and not by self-interest alone. This worldly
selfishness Paley professes to elevate and transform, re-
taining his utilitarianism, by religious faith and the hopes
of a future life ; and Mr Mill, without any such aid, by
stealthily introducing, from intuitive morals, a funda-
mental duty of universal benevolence. It is taught by
Paley, no less clearly than by himself, that personal
happiness consists to a great extent in the exercise of
social affections. These hold the first place in his list
of the elements which compose it. He states no less 1
74 MILL'S CRITIQUE ON
plainly, as one chief end of moral training, the formation
of virtuous habits, which act without the need of imme-
diate reference to those ideas of personal advantage, to
which their formation is due. He views these habits, like
Mr Mill, as gaining the force of a second nature. These
principles are common to both, though Paley has stated
them, perhaps, with greater brevity and clearness.
What, then, are the chief differences between Mr
Mill's improvement of Bentham's incomplete thinking,
and the doctrine of this rival, of whom he thinks so
meanly ? There are two of main importance. Paley, like
Bentham, disclaims all distinction in pleasures, except
continuance and intensity. Mr Mill admits one of quality
also, or that some are in kind of superior worth. He thus
becomes a better moralist, but a less consistent utilitarian^
His only decisive superiority over Paley is where he falls
short of him in logical consistency, and patches a Stoic or
Academic element upon the old garment of an Epicurean
creed. He also unconsciously deals a death-blow to his
master's favourite doctrine. For by this one change Ben->
tham's "moral arithmetic" is turned into a summation
of incommensurables, and must come to an end.
The other difference is of high importance, and one
where the balance is wholly on Paley's side. The moral-'
izing sanction, whereby selfish prudence is to be trained
into virtue, Mr Mill expects, to find in certain undefined
reforms in human legislation. Philosophers, to whom
benevolence is either, as Bentham claims for himself, a
happy accident, or else, as Mr Mill affirms, a fundamental
and intuitive first principle, are to train a race of better"
statesmen. These are next to form better laws, by which
the feeling of unity with our fellow-creatures " shall be-
come as completely a part of our character, as the horror.
PALEY EXAMINED. 75
of crime in a well brought up young person." By this
means disease will be abated, and poverty extinguished.
A long succession of generations may perish in the breach,
but at length men will gain the desired victory, and owe
it entirely to themselves.
Now Paley, with all his faults, places his reliance
for moralizing power on the Christian hope of the life to
come. The manner in which he introduces this higher
element is very imperfect and faulty. It needs to be
freed from a forced union with mere utilitarianism, before
it can be seen in its true light, or escape that reproach of
selfishness which clearly lies against it in its present form.
But in itself it is a higher and nobler element than can be
found in any scheme, which reduces virtue to a disguised
and transformed selfish interest, and then confines the
interests, which form its secret basis, to the present mortal
life alone. No moral science, worthy of the name, can
exist, so long as the generations of men are viewed only
as like the leaves of the forest, which are born, wither,
and die in swift succession, and then in death pass away
for ever.
LECTUEE III.
MILL'S CRITIQUE ON PALEY.
EXAMINATION CONTINUED.
The strictures of Mr Mil], in an early review forty years
ago, on Paley's character and motives, may seem at first
sight hardly to deserve or repay a present notice in
Lectures on Moral Philosophy. They are in themselves
a solitary wave in a vast tide of ethical controversy, which
has lasted for more than two thousand years. But several
reasons conspire to give them present importance, and
justify me in submitting them to a careful review. The
work of Paley, so vehemently disparaged, was long a text*
book in this university. It is one of the ablest deve-
lopments of that doctrine of utility, of which Mr Mill
is the present champion. His attack dates almost at
the transition from its long honour and influence, here
in Cambridge, to its comparative neglect. The censures
are aimed with equal vehemence against Paley himself,
and those who were seeking to replace his views by what
they believed to be a better aud higher creed in morals.
The great reputation Mr Mill has since acquired, the
adoption of three of his books in the Cambridge course
of moral studies, where that of Paley is now omitted,
the later reprint of these ethioal reviews, and the present
EXAMINATION CONTINUED. 77
likelihood of their wide circulation and influence among
Mr Mill's collected works, and the assault there made, not
only on Paley and his opponents, but the whole moral
teaching of the university, make it almost a duty for me,
in my present office, to submit them to an exact scrutiny.
This year, for the first time, the subject has become
historical. Mr Mill, the severe critic of our Cambridge
moralists, and Professor Sedgwick, the last survivor of
those assailed, have both passed away. I propose, then,
to devote some further space to this assault of Mr Mill .on
Paley and his university, before I review his contrasted
eulogy on Bentham's character and labours. The criti-
cism is as follows :
"If Paley's ethical system is thus unsound in its
foundations, the spirit which runs through the details
is no less exceptionable. There is none of the single-
minded earnestness for truth, whatever it may be, the
intrepid defiance of prejudice, the firm resolve to look all
consequences in the face, which the word philosopher
supposes, and without which nothing worthy of note was
ever accomplished in moral or political philosophy. One
sees throughout that he has a particular set of conclusions
to come to, and will not, perhaps cannot, allow himself
to let in any premises which would interfere with them.
His book is one of a class which has since become very
numerous, and is likely to become more so, an apology for
common-place. Not to lay a solid foundation, and erect
an edifice over it, suited to its professed ends, but to
construct pillars, and insert them under the existing struc-
ture, was Paley's object. He took the doctrines of prac-
tical morals which he found current. Mankind were,
about that time, ceasing to consider mere use and wont,
and even the ordinary special pleading from texts of
78 MILL'S CRITIQUE ON PALEY.
Scripture, as sufficient warrant for these common opinions,
and were demanding something like a philosophic basis
for them. This basis Paley, consciously or unconsciously,
made it his endeavour to supply. The skill with which
his work was adapted to supply this want of the time
accounts for the popularity which attended it, notwith-
standing the absence of that generous and inspiring tone,
which gives so much of their usefulness, as well as of their
charm, to the writings of Plato and Locke and lenelon,
and which mankind are accustomed to pretend to admire,
whether they really respond to it or not."
" When an author starts with such an object, it is of
little consequence what premises he sets out from. In'
adopting the principle of utility, Paley, we have no
doubt, followed the convictions of his intellect; but if he
had started from any other principle, we have as little
doubt that he would have arrived at the very same con-
clusions.... He had not only to maintain existing doctrines,
but to save the credit of existing practices also. He
found in his country's morality, especially its political
morality, modes of conduct universally prevalent, and
applauded by all persons of consideration, which being ac-
knowledged violations of great moral principles, could only
be defended as cases of exception, resting on special grounds
of expediency; and the only expediency it was possible
to ascribe to them was political expediency, or conducive-
ness to the interests of the ruling powers. To this, and
not to the principle of utility, is to be ascribed the lax
morality of Paley, justly objected to by Mr Sedgwick, on
the subject of lies, subscription to articles, abuses of in-
fluence in the British constitution, and various other
topics. The principle of utility leads to no such conclu-
sions : if it did, we should not of late years have heard so-
EXAMINATION CONTINUED. 79
much in reprobation of it from all manner of persons, and
from none more than from the sworn defenders of those
Very malpractices."
It would be hard to compress within the same space
a larger amount of indirect calumny, and inversion of plain
facts, of groundless assumptions, and contradictions of Mr
Mill's own principles and later admissions, than these
sentences contain. His zeal to defame an author, whom
for some reason or other he specially dislikes, has made
him furnish an instructive example of the blinding power
of determined prejudice, even on powerful and intelligent
minds.
To see the true question at issue, we must remember
how the controversy arose. Professor Sedgwick, in his
able and eloquent Discourse on the Studies of Cambridge,
was naturally led to dwell on the place of honour given to
Paley's Moral Philosophy. He gives him high praise for
his clearness of style, unrivalled skill in stating and un-
folding an argument, and his various services, in his
other works, to the cause of revealed truth. He speaks
;of the strong delight he had early felt in reading the
work he now condemns. But he blames Paley's moral
teaching for the doctrine of utility or general conse-
quences, on which the whole is based. He thinks it
unsound in reasoning, the parent of a lax morality, and
degrading in its effect on the temper and conduct of
those who adopt it. Mr Mill, a youthful admirer of
Bentham, and fresh from his influence, was filled with
•indignation at this attack on the principle he and his
master approved. He tells the Professor that it is pecu-
liarly unbecoming for him to give an opinion on it, be-
cause of his "extreme ignorance," that he is only master
'of a few stock phrases, knows nothing of the principle but
8o MILL'S CRITIQUE ON PALEY.
the name, and has never seriously thought upon it. In
one or two cases he says that the Professor neither under-
stands Paley nor his conclusions. But though he seems
to claim a monopoly in the privilege of fault-finding, he
goes even much further than the Professor in Paley's con-
demnation. If the Discourse chastises him with whips,
the critic chastises him with scorpions. He allows him
grudgingly, as almost his sole merit, a sincere faith in
that doctrine of utility, which Professor Sedgwick views
as his one great defect. But he labours to show that he
did not understand it aright, and used it as a mere pretext
to justify the defence of abuses, and that all the lax
morality in his writings is to be explained by his low
and unworthy motives and his personal dishonesty alone.
Such a charge, against one of Paley's eminence,
ought never to be brought by a critic who cares for his
own reputation, unless it can be sustained by clear and
strong proof. But of such proof Mr Mill does not offer a
single word. To borrow one of Bentham's phrases, it is a
case of pure ipsedixitism. Mr Mill bases a very bitter
and extreme calumny on his own unproved conjectures
and impressions alone. Such a mode of commencing an
ardent defence of the doctrine of utility, by vehement
abuse of the writer who had done more than any other,
in the previous generation, to secure its acceptance among
the general British public, is a problem that needs to be
explained. Only one solution, I think, is possible. In
politics, Paley was a temperate reformer, but opposed to
rash and violent change. In religion, though his theology;
at least in his earlier years, was meagre and very imper-
fect, he was an able defender of Theism and of Christian-
ity. It would seem that, in Mr Mill's eyes, esteem for the
existing laws and constitution of England, however tern-
EXAMINATION CONTINUED. 8 1
perate, and the public defence of Christianity as a super-
natural message, however calm and unimpassioned, were
proofs of blind prejudice and selfish dishonesty, which far
outweighed the merit of a sincere adoption and able ex-
position of the utilitarian theory.
To condemn one great defect in Paley's teaching,
Mr Mill, I have shown before, deserts his own princi-
ples, and adopts for the moment the higher stand-
point of Plato and Cudworth, and intuitive moralists.
To depreciate his personal character he repeats the same
process, and sets up a moral standard at total variance
with the utilitarian theory. Paley, he assures us, was
no philosopher. He had none of that single-minded
earnestness for truth, that intrepid defiance of prejudice,
that firm resolve to look all consequences in the face,
which the word implies. Now the name implies nothing
of the kind. It excludes indeed, in strictness of speech,
all who hold the creed of Lessing, adopted and praised
by Sir W. Hamilton, and justly condemned elsewhere by
Mr Mill, that searching after truth is better and more im-
portant than truth itself. Such persons, whatever their
learning or ability, are philogymnasts, not philosophers.
By their own confession they are lovers of intellectual
exercise rather than of truth and wisdom. But the word
defines nothing as to the amount of outward sacrifice, or
intrepid defiance of popular prejudice, required in the
publication of unpopular truths. It is one thing to be a
philosopher, and another to be a hero or a martyr.
The definition of Mr Mill finds as little warrant in
history as in etymology. There have been countless
martyrs to religious faith, but very few indeed to philo-
sophical theories. And unbelieving philosophers espe-
cially, with few exceptions, from earliest times, to the
B.L. II, 6
82 MILL'S CRITIQUE ON PALEY.
present day, have been more remarkable for prudent
compliance with the religious practices or prejudices that
have surrounded them, and for cautious and systematic
silence in questions of religious faith, than for intrepid
and open defiance of opinions or usages ■which in their
secret thoughts they reject and despise. Least of all
can we expect an intrepid disregard and defiance of con-
sequences to mark the advocates of an utilitarian theory.
When one of these lays down for a law of duty to his
fellow utilitarian a manly indifference to all consequences
in the cause of truth, and imputes to him failure in this
duty as a scandal and almost a crime, we may well hold
up our hands in silent amazement.
If Paley was no philosopher in Mr Mill's sense of the
word, he never claimed to be. "We must look to another
senior wrangler, forty years later, Henry Martyn, for the
still higher gifts of the Christian hero and martyr. But if
his character and motives were not the highest and noblest
of all, at least he was gifted with modesty and common
sense. He did not aim, like Bentham, to sweep away as
mere rubbish the thoughts of all previous moralists, and
the experience of all past generations, and to erect from
its foundations a stuccoed building of ethics and politics
by a new moral arithmetic of his own discovery. He did
not even aspire, like Mr Mill, to remedy by his " complete
thinking" the incompleteness of a master, whom he has
placed in the vanguard of human progress, as the foremost
thinker of the most enlightened age. He never pretended
to belong to some select coterie or mental aristocracy*
who look on themselves, in the words of Mackintosh with
regard to Bentham's early disciples, as "initiated into the
most secret mysteries of philosophy, and entitled to look
down with pity, if not contempt, on the profane multi-
EXAMINATION CONTINUED. 83'
tude," the general herd of mankind. His real object has
been clearly defined in his own preface. It was to pro-
duce a work on morals, in which " the principle should be
sound, distinctly explained, and sufficiently adapted to
real life and actual situations ; " which should be free
from a merely sententious, apophthegmatic style, and in
which the defect should be avoided of entirely separating
the laws of nature- from the lessons, precepts, and sanc-
tions of the Christian faith. The personal motives he
assigns have nothing grand or heroic, but they are not
mean or mercenary, and bear the plainest signs of a
sincerity free from pretence. "The nature," he says, "of
my academical situation, a great deal of leisure since my
retirement from it, the recommendation of an honoured
friend, the authority of the prelate to whom these labours
are inscribed, the not perceiving in what way I could em-
ploy my time and talents better, and my disapprobation,
in literary men, of the fastidious indolence which sits still
because it disdains to do little, were the considerations
that directed my thoughts to this design."
It needs the eyes of a lynx, or the skill of a Zoilus, to
find here any trace of that corrupt and dishonest purpose,
which the review imputes so freely to the whole work.
Those who see most clearly the real defects of the Moral
Philosophy, and the serious fault of the principle on which
the whole system is based, are doubly bound to vindicate
the memory of a great and able writer, when attacked
by groundless calumnies. And still more, when through
Paley shafts of bitter reproach are aimed against a whole
university, while the assailant shares fully in one main
defect of Paley 's morality, and adds to it another and still
greater of his own.
6—2
84 MILL'S CRITIQUE ON PALSY.
Next, is it true that the Moral Philosophy is " an
apology for commonplace" ? The charge is more than un-
true; it is even ridiculous. Perhaps no work on morals
ever bore more plainly the stamp of the writer's individual
mind, both in its excellencies and defects. None has
succeeded more in giving an air of novelty and freshness
even to old and familiar truths. No sooner had it ap-
peared than a friend and warm admirer of Bentham writes
to him on the work, and describes it in these words. " It
is a capital book, and much the best that has been written
on the subject in this country. Almost everything he says
about morals, government, and our own constitution, is
sound, practical, and free from commonplace." His chief
fear is that, by its originality, it will have forestalled with
the public what he holds to be the most important of
Bentham's ideas ; and through his delay to print, may ex-
pose him to the charge of stealing what he had honestly
invented with the sweat of his own brow. And again Mr
Leckie, one of the ablest and best-read students of ethical
literature, well acquainted with Mr Mill's writings, deli-
berately ranks Paley's chapter on Happiness in the Moral
Philosophy above anything that either Bentham or Mr
Mill himself has written on the utilitarian side.
The charge, then, of commonplace, if applied to the
style and method of the work, is untrue and even ridicu-
lous. Does it apply justly to the conclusions or moral
verdicts themselves? Certainly Paley did not aspire to
effect an entire revolution in the usual views of moral
duty, or to create a wholly new starting-point in the.
ethical and political history of mankind. Such arrogant
dreams might be entertained by Bentham and a few of
his more thorough disciples. Paley was so far common*'
EXAMINATION CONTINUED. 8$
place that lie did not share in this want of modesty and
common sense. Mr Mill wrote his critique on Sedgwick
and Paley, " calidus juventa," when he was only twenty-
eight years old, just three years after Bentham's death.
His remarks are naturally tinged by the arrogance of the
school in which he had been reared, and which he out-
grew to some extent, with wider study and growing expe-
rience, in his later years. But the character of that school
has been forcibly described by Professor Blackie in these
words :
"Never was a system ushered in with a greater flourish
of trumpets, and a more strong consciousness on the part
of its promulgators that a new gospel was being preached,
•which was to save the world at last from centuries of
hereditary mistake. At the watchword of the system the
son of a London attorney ' felt the scales fall from his eyes.'
All was now clear that had hitherto been dim. A distinct
test was revealed for marking out by a sharp line a do-
main, where, previous to the arrival of the great discrimi-
nator, all had been mere floating clouds, shifting mists,
and aerial hallucinations. The unsubstantial idealism of
Plato, and the unreasonable asceticism of the New Testa-
ment, were destined at length to disappear. Only let
schools be established, and the redemption of the world
from imaginary morality and superstitious sentiment would
be complete.. ..One of Bentham's most admiring disciples
actually believed and printed that his discovery of the
principle of utility marked an era in moral philosophy as
important as that achieved in physical science by Newton's
discovery of the principle of gravitation. The dogmatism,
which was the characteristic feature of Bentham, was in-
herited, more or less, by most of his disciples ; and the
importance they attribute to themselves and their own.
86 MILL'S CRITIQUE ON PALSY.
discoveries is only surpassed by the superciliousness with
which they ignore whatever has been done by their pre-
decessors."
Here, then, in the view of Mr Mill, when a young man
fresh from the school of Bentham, was a second great fault
of Paley as a moralist. Here lay the proof of his corrupt
motives, and practical dishonesty. He used the doctrine
of consequences, chiefly to unite together and justify moral
rules and precepts existing before, and already sanctioned •
by the general acceptance of mankind. He did not clear the
ground from all the rubbish of past generations, in order
to build a moral structure wholly or almost wholly new.
He was content to " insert pillars under existing doc-
trines," when these should rather have been carted away.
Thus only, by the labour of some modern Mulcibers, might
a perfect and glorious moral edifice
Eise like an exhalation, with the sound
Of dulcet symphonies and voices sweet,
to bless the waiting and expectant eyes of the coming
generations of mankind.
In his Treatise on Utilitarianism, twenty-six years
later than the review, but shortly after its republication,
Mr Mill lays down an opposite doctrine. Defenders of
utility, he says, are often called upon to reply to the
objection that there is not time, previous to action, for
calculating the effects of any line of conduct on the
general happiness. His answer is that there has been
ample time, the whole duration of the human species.
"During all that time mankind have been learning the
tendencies of actions by experience. People talk as if,
at the moment a man is tempted to meddle with the pro-
perty or the life of another, he had to begin considering.
EXAMINATION CONTINUED. 87
whether murder and theft are injurious. The matter is
now done to his hand. It is whimsical to suppose that, if
utility be the test, mankind would remain without any
agreement what is useful, and take no measures for
having their notions taught to the young, and enforced by
law and opinion. To consider the rules of morality as im-
provable, is one thing ; to test every individual act by the
first principle, and omit all intermediate rules, is another.
Men ought to leave off talking this kind of nonsense on
morals only, which they would not listen to on other sub-
jects." " Gravely to argue as if no such secondary princi-
ples could be had, and as if mankind had remained till
now without drawing any general conclusions from the
experience of human life, is as high a pitch, I think, as
absurdity has ever reached in philosophical controversy. "
The contrast between the early censure of Paley and
this later palinode is very complete. Utilitarians, it is
found out at length, had never dreamed of doing what
Paley has been charged with dishonesty for not having
attempted to do. Once it was his grand offence to have
inserted pillars .under existing structures, and propped up,
by the doctrine of utility, the received moral convictions of
mankind; instead of labouring, with intrepid defiance of pre-
judice, and disregard of consequences, to clear them away,
and start afresh. But now it has become the extreme
pitch of controversial absurdity, to think that any sober
utilitarian ever thought of doing what Paley is reproached
for not having done, or had dared to disparage that
commonplace morality, which is nothing less than the
embodied experience of long ages of mankind. Professor
Grote has noted this reversed attitude of Mr Mill in his
later treatise with his usual calmness and good sense, and'
still with a slight touch of gentle satire, in these words : : -
88 MILL'S CRITIQUE ON PALEY.
"The utilitarian view, which made people suspicious,
Was that mankind had almost everything to learn in
morals; and that, as a 'temporis partus maximus,' there
was born a philosophy, which would immediately teach
what had till then been 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 morality which it was the main purpose of
Beniham's life to cause people to distrust. If utilitarianism
has not taught us something new about these moral rules
derived from tradition and experience, what has it done,
and why has it given itself a special name? Does the
name denote something which people have always been,
or something which some have lately begun to be? If it is
to resolve itself into nothing more than that we are to con-
sider that 'the 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."
So much for Mr Mill's consistency in his charge against
Paley of moral commonplace; that is, as explained later by
himself, his attaching due weight to received moral rules,
the result of the experience and wisdom of long ages of
mankind. But it is worthy of notice that two eminent
writers, equal to Mr Mill in ability, and in dignity
of moral teaching very superior, have blamed Paley on
grounds precisely opposite. Sir J. Mackintosh, in his
Dissertation, says that he was betrayed into a serious
error "by his disposition to look at his principles merely; >
as far as they are calculated to amend prevalent vices and.
EXAMINATION CONTINUED, 89
errors." And Eobert Hall plainly includes his work, as
well as Bentham's, in his indignant appeal. " How is it that
on a subject on which men have thought deeply from the
moment they began to think, and where consequently
whatever is entirely and fundamentally new must be
fundamentally false — how is it that, in contempt of the
experience of all past ages, and of all precedents, human
and divine, we have ventured into a perilous path, which
no eye has explored, no foot has. trod; and have under-
taken, after six thousand years, to manufacture a morality
of our own ; to decide, by a cold calculation of interest and
ledger-book of profit and loss, the preference of truth to
falsehood, purity to blasphemy, and humanity and justice
to treachery and blood ?"
It is rather hard on Paley to bear this double reproach;
to be blamed, on one side, for doing nothing but inno-
vate, and set forth a wholly new morality; and on the
other, to be held up to scorn as a mere timeserver, whose
one aim is to invent dishonest apologies for a morality
at once corrupt and commonplace. But there is a great
difference between an earnest protest against a principle
which is held to be mischievous, and an attempt, by one
who holds it, to divert the censure, by aspersing the
motives and character of its ablest and most successful
advocate in a former generation.
The appeal to history in proof of the charge against
Paley is a condensation of errors. Mankind, it is said,
were then ceasing to rely on use and wont, and to distrust
special pleading from texts of Scripture in defence of
current opinions, existing doctrines in morals, and ex-
isting immoralities. They were crying out — ''Give us
some philosophical basis for these things," and such a basis
Paley, ia his. Moral .Philosophy, undertook to supply*
90 MILL'S CRITIQUE ON PALEY.
Now first, the meiition of mankind in such a matter is
a piece of bombast, into which Paley would never have
fallen. The words can only refer, at most, to a large
proportion of educated Englishmen. Next, these were
not accustomed at the close of last century, or indeed at
any time, to accept mere use and wont as a sufficient
ground for their creed in morals or religion. Still less
did they believe that use and wont, or the average prac-
tice of their fellows, was a sufficient standard of moral
right and wrong. Thirdly, the appeal to Scripture on
moral questions, instead of having grown out of date, had
latterly received a new impulse from the religious revival
then in progress, of which the influence, in works like Cow-
per's Poems, and Wilberforce's Practical View, was begin-
ning to be felt in the upper circles of society. It was pro-
bably more frequent, and more largely made, than for
a century before. Fourthly, Paley repeatedly makes this
very appeal. Far from intending to supersede it, he an-
nounces, as one main object, his wish to remedy a fault
in most of the earlier treatises, that they "divide too
much the Law of Nature from the precepts of Kevelation.®
Lastly, so far is it from being his aim to provide a philoso-
phical basis, by which the immoralities of his age might be
justified, that a charge directly opposite is nearer the truth.
Sir J. Mackintosh, we have seen, makes it his fault, that
" he limited his principles too much to his own time and
country," and looked on them " merely as far as they were
calculated to amend prevalent vices and errors." He even
begins his work with keen satire on the laws of honour,
then widely prevalent. He defines them to be "rules in-
vented by men of fashion for their mutual convenience,"
and says that consequently they " allow of fornication, and
adultery, drunkenness, prodigality, and revenge in the
EXAMINATION CONTINUED. 91
extreme, and lay no stress on the virtues opposite to these."
Mr Mill himself could not state more plainly the danger of
a purely subjective morality in leading to the " deification
of mere opinion and habit," than Paley has done in the
following words :
" Nothing is so soon made as a maxim ; and it appears"
from the example of Aristotle that authority and conve-
nience, education and prejudice, and general practice, have
no small share in the making of them ; and that the laws
ef custom are very apt to be mistaken for the order of
nature. For which reason I suspect that a system of
morality, built upon instincts, will only find out reasons
and excuses for opinions and practices already established,
will seldom correct and reform either.''
The Moral Philosophy is next condemned, because of
"the absence of that generous and inspiring tone" which
lends their charm and usefulness to the writings of Plato,
Locke, and Fenelon, and which mankind, whether they
really share it or not, usually pretend to admire. The
complaint itself has a partial truth. Whatever the other
merits of the work, there are seen in it no sparks of moral
enthusiasm, no signs of heroic and lofty aspiration. No-
where does it reflect fully the beauty and fervour of that
one brief charge of the great Apostle, — " Finally, brethren,
whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest,
whatsoever 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, think on these things." The reality of this defect,
however, is not the question here at issue, but its true
source and explanation. Is it right or natural to use
Paley for a moral scapegoat, and brand his memory and
character with reproach, in order to save the credit of that
92 MILL'S CRITIQUE ON PALEY.
ethical theory, which he and his accuser both receive ? Or
is Professor Sedgwick nearer the truth, when he imputes
this and similar defects to the influence of Paley's utili-
tarianism, and to that cause alone ?
The requirement in moral writings, of a generous and
inspiring tone, like that of Plato and Fenelon, is justly
noted by Dr Whewell, in his Preface to Mackintosh, as
one overt sign that the reviewer, then anonymous, was de-
serting Bentham's stand-point, and approximating in some
degree to the position which Bentham treats with con-
tempt and derision. At least the reproach has a strange
sound, when levelled by a champion of utilitarian philo-
sophy against an utilitarian divine. Mr Mill deals here
with Paley like one of Pharaoh's taskmasters. He requires
him to make bricks without straw. There is nothing gene-
rous in the doctrine that every virtuous act is the result of
a sum in arithmetic, a counting up of so many pleasures,
and a subtraction of so many pains. There is nothing
ennobling in a theory, which " counts it easy to reduce to
a simple calculation of gain and loss the acts of the most
exalted virtue;" and, in these gains and losses, ranks the
pleasant sensations of gluttony and hist and malevolence
side by side with the enjoyments of benevolence, and the
consolations of religious faith. The want of Platonic grand-
eur and dignity, and of a tone of lofty inspiration, can
only be a natural result from the adoption of that Epicu-
rean theory, which endeavours, in the words of Carlyle, by
some private logic-mill and earthly mechanism of its own,
to "grind out Virtue from the husks of pleasure."
There is thus a plain reason for ascribing the fault in
question to the theory itself, rather than to personal
defects or vices of its advocate. And this is still plainer
from the examples to which the appeal is made. Two*
EXAMINATION CONTINUED. 93
names suggest themselves instinctively to Mr Mill as pat-
terns of that generous and inspiring tone which befits
„every writer on morals; Plato, the lofty idealist, who
defines goodness and virtue by likeness to the Divinity,
and Fenelon, the attractive Christian mystic, who urged
the duty and privilege of loving God for His excellence
alone, and not with respect to the hope of reward. Ben-
tham, the most consistent patron of utilitarianism, says
that Plato and Aristotle were employed in talking and
writing nonsense, and sank thus below the average of man-
kind. For they spoke only of duties, when men were
thinking only of their interests, as it was sensible and
natural for them to do. Fenelon, on his principles, must
have seemed to be a mere victim of sentimental dreams.
But Mr Mill places Locke between Plato and Fenelon,
a third example of that generous and inspiring tone,
for the want of which Paley is to be condemned. Prof.
Sedgwick, indeed, has grouped Locke and Paley together.
■He gives them both high praise, and says of the first that
his works are noble subjects for academical study, while
he finds much, not only in Paley, but in Locke, to cen-
sure and disapprove. Mr Mill adopts a very different
classification. Of Paley's work he thinks meanly, while
he places Locke between Plato and Fenelon, and "cannot
speak of him but with the deepest reverence." He praises
him for " the noble devotion to truth, the beautiful and
touching earnestness and simplicity, which he not only
manifests in himself, but has the power beyond almost all
other philosophical writers of infusing into his reader."
So widely may impressions vary. My first reading of
Locke's Essay was more than forty years ago. And I
still remember the strong feeling of aversion and repug-
nance I then experienced from its opening chapters, not
94 MILL'S CRITIQUE ON PALEY.
from the mere absence, but the exact converse, of that
generous and inspiring tone, which Mr Mill here ascribes
to the whole work. The Essay seems to me defective
alike in its principles, its method, and the greater part of
its conclusions. There is neither correctness and delicacy
of mental analysis, nor metaphysical depth and profound-
ness, nor imaginative richness and variety of thought in
his contemplation of human nature, so strange and mys-
terious in its contrasts, and of the mind itself, with
its treasures of hopes and fears, its deep emotions, and
"thoughts that wander through eternity," deep as hell,
and high as heaven. There are oases and green spots
in his work, especially where he follows his own better
instincts, and has had time to forget the principles with
which he began. There is singleness and honesty of pur-
pose, and diligence and patience of thought, so that his
Essay is a copious treasury of the raw materials of mental
philosophy. There are some fertile meadows, and low
marsh land in abundance, with a few useful stepping-
stones intermingled. But there are no lofty mountain-
tops, clothed with eternal snow, that drink in and reflect
the morning and evening sunlight, and raise our thoughts,
like the best parts of Plato, to the sky, while they fill the
soul with a sense of grandeur and sublimity.
With regard, then, to this requirement, in writers on
ethics and philosophy, of a generous and inspiring tone of
thought, Locke and Paley, as it seems to me, stand
almost exactly on a level. Locke has perhaps a slight
advantage, because on the subject of morals he was less
consistent, and oscillates from the sensationalism of his
general theory towards the view of the intuitive moralist,
when he affirms that ethics are as capable, or nearly as
capable, of strict demonstration as geometry itself. The
EXAMINATION CONTINUED. 95
Discourse of Professor Sedgwick, which Mr Mill visits
with such invective, seems to me in this respect far supe-
rior both to the work of Locke and to his own writing's.
In fact, the thermometer of generous and animating
thought on moral subjects seems to rise or fall, exactly as
the author recedes from or approaches to the position of
the mere utilitarian. The prophets and apostles we place
apart, they are a class to themselves above the rest.
Plato and Epictetus, and A'Kempis, Fenelon and Leigh-
ton, Cudworth and More, stand among the highest; Butler
and Hutcheson and Adam Smith come in a second rank ;
Locke and Paley and Mr Mill himself hold nearly the
same level ; and Bentham, the most thoroughgoing in
hare and naked utilitarianism, with his one specific of
a ledger-book and addition-table of pleasures, in just
reward for his unmeasured contempt of nearly all his
predecessors, may well form a class to himself, and occupy
the lowest room.
It would not be fair, however, to Paley, to represent'
his work as wholly destitute of generous and inspiring
passages, though it results naturally from the doctrine he
shares with Mr Mill that they are comparatively few.
I would appeal, first, to his remarks on West Indian
Slavery: —
" But necessity is pretended ; the name under which
every enormity is attempted to be justified. And after
all, what is the necessity? It has never been proved
that the land could not be cultivated there as here by hired
servants. It is said that it could not be cultivated . with
quite the same conveniency and cheapness, as by the
labour of slaves. A pound of sugar, which the planter
now sells for sixpence, could not be afforded under six-
pence halfpenny; — and this is the necessity!.
96 MILL'S CRITIQUE ON PALEY.
" The great revolution which has taken place in the
Western world may probably conduce (and who knows
but that it was designed ?) to accelerate the fall of this
abominable tyranny. And now that this conflict, and the
passions which attend it, are no more, there may succeed
perhaps a season for reflecting, whether a legislature;
which had so long lent its support to an institution
replete with human misery, was fit to be trusted with an
empire the most extensive that ever obtained in any age
or quarter of the world."
These are not the words of a dishonest time-server.
Especially when we remember that the long agitation
of Clarkson and Wilberforce had scarcely begun, and
that the Court, unhappily, was in those days strongly
averse to the whole movement. The suggestion that the
loss of the American colonies might be a divine Nemesis
for the long sanction, by the British legislature, of the
slave-trade and its attendant horrors, has more resem-
blance to the voice of some Hebrew prophet in ancient
times.
The remarks on wars of conquest deserve nearly the
same praise. Nearly the whole chapter also, on "reve-
rencing the Deity," is a pattern not only of a clear, sim-
ple, easy, and forcible style, but of a gravity and moral
earnestness which appeals to the heart. The expostula-
tion against the unbecoming nature of those attacks, to
which the Christian faith had often been exposed, is ?.
model of calmness, dignity, and effective description and
reasoning, and reaches a climax of powerful eloquence at
the close.
But a heavier accusation follows. We may easily
forgive, in a writer, the- absence of lofty aspirations and
heroic virtue. But we may well think meanly of one
EXAMINATION CONTINUED. 97
who is careless and indifferent about the principles from
which he reasons, and is only anxious, for selfish ends, to
reach by any road foregone conclusions. Such an author,
both intellectually and morally, is an object of just con-
tempt. Yet this is the charge Mr Mill has made. In
adopting the doctrine of utility he admits that Paley
doubtless followed the convictions of his intellect. But
he has just as little doubt that, if he had started from
any other, he would have contrived to reach the very
same conclusions. And no wonder, since he alleges pre-
sently, that the main design of the work was " not only, to
maintain existing doctrines, but to save the credit of
existing practices also."
The charge here seems to be, and is plainly meant to
be, very damaging to Paley's character. But when we
examine it more closely, and compare it with the doc-
trine of a later review, it will appear in a very opposite
light. The alleged vice will be found, on Mr Mill's own
principles, to be only the unfair and jaundiced description
of a real virtue.
, In the examination of Sir W. Hamilton, perhaps his
ablest work, Mr Mill describes the metaphysical theories
of his great rival, with much truth, as a system of im-
perfect junctions. And he illustrates his meaning, with
much felicity, by the Cenis tunnel, if the labourers
from opposite ends had worked past one another in the
dark. This true, thougb satirical description of Sir W.
Hamilton's metaphysics, applies with no less accuracy
to his own ethical speculations. From Bentham's end
he starts first with pure self-interest for the one law
of nature, and an absolute empire of personal pain and
pleasure. But his studies are too wide, and his temper
too eclectic, to rest satisfied with this naked selfishness
B. L. II. 7
9 8 MILL'S CRITIQUE ON PALEY.
alone. He seeks to engraft utilitarianism with Stoic and
Christian elements. He starts from an opposite end with
a grand intuitive axiom, the absolute and self-evident
duty of world-wide, universal benevolence. The natural
result is a series of imperfect junctions, or virtual contra-
dictions, where he works past himself in the dark ; and
thus condemns in one review, as a proof of shameful dis-
honesty, what results by necessary consequence from his
statements and definitions, in another review, of the only'
sound and safe morality. :
In the review of Dr Whewell we are taught that the
contrast of & priori and o\ posteriori reasoning, the intuitive
and inductive methods, is common alike to the knowledge'
of truth and of duty. One line, it is said, was pursued by
Descartes, Spinosa, Leibnitz and Kant, down to Schelling
and Hegel; and the other by Bacon and Locke and their"
successors. Some have thought it possible, he continues,
to be Baconians or inductive philosophers in the phy-
sical department, and to remain Cartesians, that is, intui-
tivists, in the moral. But it is the principal merit, in his
view, of the later Germans, that they have proved this
middle ground or compromise to be untenable, and "have
convinced all thinkers of any force that; if they admit of
an & priori morality, they must assign the same character
to physical science."
I do not stay to examine the measure of truth or
falsehood in this statement. For the present I assume it
to be true, and that morals are properly, as\Mi Mill clearly
affirms, an inductive science. Its analogies with physics,
on this view, are not with geometry and. arithmetic, but
with astronomy and chemistry, and the applied sciences,*
where experiment, observation, and induction reign su-
preme. The course of such induction is to rise from facts
EXAMINATION CONTINUED. 99
to secondary laws, or the lower axioms of Bacon ; and then,
by a gradual and slow ascent, to combine these in some
higher generalization. We have to reason upward, and
not downward, from the circumference of a wide observa-
tion to some mysterious centre, and not from a centre
first known to the circumference. To generalize, we
must sometimes assume an hypothesis, and reason out-
ward and downward. But this is only to test the hypo-
thesis by its being found to include lower axioms already
proved and known, and not to test the axioms induc-
tively known by their agreement with the hypothesis
or law which brings them together. Such, according to
Mr Mill's later statement, is the primal law and neces-
sary condition of Baconian, or inductive morality, and it
is the merit of the Germans to have shown that no other
is possible, unless we pretend to form a physical scheme
of the universe by mere intuition.
Let us accept, then, these somewhat oracular deci-
sions, as the voice of true, nay the only true, philosophy.
But then what becomes of the severe reproach levelled
against Paley in the earlier review ? Transfer it to a case
which, on this view, is strictly parallel, and its frivolous
nature will be clear. Instead of Paley and his Moral
Philosophy, let us substitute Sir Isaac Newton and the
Principia, and the censure would assume this singular
form. "When an astronomer starts with the one object of
reaching Kepler's laws and Flamstead's observations, it is
of little consequence what premises he sets out from.
Vortices or attraction will equally serve him. In adopting
the principle of universal gravitation, Newton, no doubt,
followed the conviction of his intellect. But if he had
started from any other hypothesis, we have as little
doubt that he would have arrived at the very same con^-
7-2
IOO MILL'S CRITIQUE ON PALEY.
elusions. Those conclusions, that is, the received facts
and laws of previous discovery, were accordant in many
points with those which philosophy would have dictated.
But had they been so in all points, that was not the way
in which a genuine philosopher would have dealt with
them."
Here, then, we have one of those imperfect junctions, or
rather of those failures to effect a joining at all, with which
Mr Mill's ethical statements abound. Two courses lay open
before him. He might take the high level of an intuitive
moralist, and lay down, like Edwards, benevolence to being
in general for the defining essence of virtue. He might
then make it the business of a sound moralist to dispense
with all popular maxims, the embodied experience and
wisdom of mankind, and proceed to test all doctrines and
practices by inferences professedly reasoned out from this
first principle alone. The censure on Paley would then be
natural and just. His fault will be that he has not taken
this high intuitive ground, or shown the contempt required
from a true philosopher for the popular convictions, imper-
fect inductions, and supposed lessons of experience, which
offered themselves ready to his hand. But then what be-
comes of the doctrine in the later review ? Or again, he
may accept induction for the true basis of moral science,
so that it climbs slowly, first from facts of experience to
middle axioms or moral rules; and then later to more
general principles, proved by their agreement with the
middle axioms, and joining them in a higher unity. The
tunnelling, on this view, must begin from the end of
human experience, and proceed more than half-way. The
test of merit, then, in the doctrine of utility or any other,
will be that, when reasoned out fairly, it meets and exactly
agrees with these received moral axioms, the result of
EXAMINATION CONTINUED. ioi
ages of long and painful experience. But then what be-
comes of the severe and scornful censure of Paley ? Why-
blame him and hold him up to contempt for doing exactly
what every sensible moralist, on Mr Mill's own principles,
is bound to do ? If his general principle had landed him
in conclusions wholly at variance with " the general con-
clusions of mankind from the experience of human life,"
this could not have disproved the secondary axioms, but
the hypothesis assumed for the basis of the reasoning.
Who ever dreamed of reproaching Newton on the ground,
that the Laws of Kepler were already well known ; and
that, while he ought to have amended them by some
& priori reasonings, all his vaunted theorems were only
laborious efforts to reach foregone conclusions, and to con-
firm the very same laws which were known long before ?
The complaint against Paley of moral laxity on special
topics opens too wide a field for the close of this Lecture.
So far as it is made in common by Mr Mill and Professor
Sedgwick, it belongs to a later stage of the discussion.
The censures in the Discourse are, I think, true in part,
and only in part ; and Mr Mill has added nothing to them
but a double misrepresentation of Paley himself and of his
later opponents. It is no mark of true philosophy to turn
aside repeatedly from direct argument, to impute bad and
corrupt motives to those whose opinions we disapprove.
The last charge is perhaps the most surprising of the
whole. Paley, it seems, to maintain the credit of exist-
ing malpractices and immoralities, purposely confined his
view to considerations of expediency of the most obvious
•and vulgar kind. To conduct the utilitarian arithmetic
aright two things have to be weighed, the consequences to
the outward interests of the parties concerned, and to
their characters and their interests as affected by their
102 MILL'S CRITIQUE ON PALEY.
character. In the first there is not much room for differ-
ence of opinion. They are easily distinguished, at least
for the guidance of a private individual. But an essential
part of the morality or immorality of an action or rule con-
sists in its influence on the agent's own mind, and many
actions produce an effect on the character of others. In
these cases there will be as much difference in the moral
judgments of different persons, as in their views of human
nature, and of the formation of character. Thus clear and '
comprehensive views of education and human culture
must precede, and form the basis of, a philosophy of
morals. For this much remains to be done. The mate*
rials, though abundant, are not complete. To collect them
and add to them will be a labour for successive genera-
tions. But Paley brought no new light to them, and did
not avail himself of the lights already thrown on it by
others. He had meditated little on the subject, and had
no ideas on it, but the commonest and most superficial.
The first thing worthy of note in this instructive pas-
sage is Mr Mill's entire desertion of his master, Bentham,
and of the view which forms the basis of Bentham's
theory. For this is not merely some doctrine of utility,
but of an utility capable of easy calculation, and thereby
fit to supersede the loose views and maxims current
among mankind. He lays it down at the outset, as one of
his chief objects, " to find the processes of a moral arith-
metic, by which uniform results may be arrived at." And
he tells us presently, after his list of fifteen kinds of sim-
ple pleasures, and seven causes on which their unequal
value depends ; — " When one has become familiar with the
process, when he has acquired the justness of estimate
which results from it, he can compare the sum of good and
ai evil with so much of promptitude, as scarcely to.be
EXAMINATION CONTINUED: 103
conscious of the steps of the calculation !" Yet, according
to Mr Mill, what Bentham styles pleasures and pains of
the third order may be the most important of the whole.
And so far are they from being easy to estimate, that it will
need the labours of successive generations of utilitarian
philosophers, to amass the needful materials for their right
estimation.
In the next place, whatever the alleged defects of
Paley in this matter, it is plain in itself, and even from
Mr'Mill's own admission, that those of Bentham, whom he
admires and extols, were greater still. He tells us that
"his knowledge of human nature is bounded, wholly
empirical, and the empiricism of one who had little ex-
perience and less imagination. He never knew prosperity
or adversity, passion or satiety, or even sickness. He knew
no dejection, no heaviness of heart. Other ages and other
nations were a blank to him for purposes of instruction."
And yet, while Paley is charged with commonplace and
even mercenary motives, for not reaching Mr Mill's ideal
of some future utilitarian, Bentham, who was plainly
nauch below Paley in what we are here taught to view
as essentials of moral philosophy, is ranked far above him
as one of the seminal minds of the age.
But is Paley really so blind and ignorant on these sub-
jects as Mr Mill affirms 1 On the contrary, Mr Mill, in
his fancied improvements on his own master's system, is
merely returning to the position which Paley had occupied
before he was born. His remarks on the power of habit,
and the influence of actions on character, are among the
best in his work. He lays down, more tersely and pithily
than Mr Mill has done, the truth he is charged with
passing by in almost total neglect. He makes happiness,
for . instance, the basis of his whole t theory, to depend
104 MILL'S CRITIQUE ON PALEY.
mainly on four elements. And the third of these, on
which he dwells at greatest length, is the prudent con-
stitution of the habits. It is to this passage Mackintosh
gives the high praise, that perhaps no words were ever
more expressive and illustrative than those which Paley
has employed. He writes in another chapter, "Mankind
act more from habit than reflection. Many things are
to be done and abstained from for the sake of the habit
alone." And he then proceeds as follows.
" There are habits, not only of drinking, swearing,
lying, and some other things, which are commonly so
called, but of every modification of action, speech and
thought. Man is a bundle of habits."
"There are habits of industry, attention, vigilance, ad-
vertency ; of a prompt obedience to the judgment, or of
yielding to the first impulse of passion ; of extending our
views to the future, or of resting on the present ; of ap-
prehending, methodising, reasoning; of indolence and
dilatoriness ; of vanity, self-conceit, melancholy, partiality;
of fretfulness, suspicion, captiousness, censoriousness ; of
pride, ambition, covetousness ; of overreaching, intriguing,
projecting: in a word, there is not a quality or function
either of body or mind, which does not feel the influence
of this great law of animated nature." "The habit of
lying, when once formed, is easily extended to serve
designs of malice or interest. Like all habits, it spreads
indeed of itself." And again, in his remarks on Anger.
" The point is to habituate ourselves to these reflections,
till they rise up of their own accord when they are wanted,
and with such force and colouring as both to mitigate the
paroxysms of anger at the time, and at length to produce
an alteration in the temper or disposition itself."
The suggestion, then, of Mr Mill, that Paley omitted
EXAMINATION CONTINUED. 105
all reference to the effect of actions in fixing habits and
moulding the character, in order to favour and indulge
existing abuses, and flatter the ruling powers, is simply a
preposterous calumny. The relative merit, on this subject,
of the first and third of the great utilitarian leaders is one
of degree alone. Both of them rank high above Bentham,
and each has a partial advantage over the other. But
when Mr Mill reproaches Paley that he had no ideas on it
hut "the commonest and most superficial," he provokes
the natural retort that the most important by far, even of
those common and familiar ideas, at once the most con-
spicuous on the surface of human life, and the most vital
and profound in its bearing on all moral questions, is
left almost wholly out of sight in his own writings. On
religious questions he is so far from practising that "in-
trepid defiance of prejudice " which he makes the test of a
true philosopher, that the most careful reader can scarcely
guess the exact nature of his own convictions. The
mighty influence of faith in the divine mission of Christ,
and the hope of the life to come, or of reverent fear from
the expectation of a righteous judgment, in deepening
humility, quickening the conscience, and promoting
habits of truth, uprightness, and unselfish benevolence, is
overlooked and forgotten, or virtually denied. He seems
to accept the task which Paley represents as so difficult to
those who reject the Christian religion, " to make the best
shift they can to build up a system, and lay the founda-
tion of morality without it." And in his ethical specu-
lations not only Christianity, but even simple Theism, is
treated as a superfluous element. It is not surprising,
then, however mournful, that the leading and most offen-
sive advocate of Atheism should have boasted of late of
the eminent services Mr Mill has rendered to the cause of
^
1 06 MILL'S CRITIQUE ON PALEY.
irreligion. He protests, it is true, against the title of
godless, sometimes applied to the ethical theory he main*
tains. Still his answer gives no key to his own belief,
and is purely hypothetical. If such a theistic doctrine is
true, then his doctrine is even " more profoundly religious
than any other." What he really, proves is. that his teach*
ing may accidentally coexist with faith in God and Christ,,
and the Divine goodness. He does not prove that faith
and piety, on his view, are more than personal and separa-
ble accidents, with which moral teaching, essentially, has
nothing to do, and which it may leave out of sight with-
out real loss. That fear of God, which the wisest of men
pronounced the beginning of wisdom, Ends no place at all
in his ethical system; and the formation of religious
habits of thought, and of the great lesson of Christian
faith, to live
As ever in the great Taskmaster's eye,
are views of moral culture passed by in utter silence. Such
truths may be perhaps of "the most obvious and vulgar
kind." Nevertheless, they are of supreme and vital im-
portance. Paley, whatever his defects, has dwelt on them
with clearness and force. Mr Mill, whatever his merits,
has forgotten or denied them. And this contrast far out-
weighs his superiority, were it tenfold greater than it is, in
discovering or suggesting recondite laws of human culture,
by which utilitarian moralists are to enrich their oracles of
duty in some distant and more enlightened age.
LECTUKE IV.
MILL'S KEVIEW OF BENTHAM.
When we turn from Mr Mill's critique on Paley's Philo-
sophy, and Professor Sedgwick's Discourse, to his review
of Bentham's writings, there is a marked and sudden
chaDge iD the critical temperature. We have done with
chilling blasts and frowning skies, and meet with smiles
and sunshine once more. The Cambridge advocate of the
doctrine of utility, and its able and eloquent Cambridge
opponent, are treated with impartial severity. To the
writer who shares his own principle Mr Mill imputes
blunders, intellectual meanness, and moral dishonesty of
the worst kind. To the Professor, who opposes it, he
ascribes empty pretension, idle talk, and extreme ignorance.
Cambridge, in his eyes, was only a nurse of superstition,
and could be only a heartless stepmother to philosophy.
' She pipes to him with his favourite doctrine, but he will
i not dance. She mourns to him, rejecting and disowning it,
\and he is filled with zealous indignation. The youthful
reviewer emulates his father's- treatment, just at the
same time, of Sir J. Mackintosh, and rates Professor
Sedgwick as a mere schoolboy, who has meddled with a
subject too high for his feeble understanding.
A very different treatment awaits the teacher at
•whose feet he has been reared, at a safe distance from the
108 MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTHAM.
stifling influence of Christian creeds and Church Articles,
and to whom he looks up as his guide, philosopher, and
friend. The strictures on Paley had proved how much
censure and reproach he could heap on a writer, with
whom, on the main question discussed, he is in substan-
tial agreement. The remarks on Bentham show how
widely he can diverge from the oracle of his childhood,
and still crown him with laurel, and exalt him to a royal
place in the world of thought. The refusal to share in
his own high estimate, after every abatement, of Ben-
tham's prodigious merit, is gravely styled an unpardon-
able error for any cultivated and instructed mind. The
review has an historical importance from the later reputa-
tion its author has acquired, and from the fact that he has
succeeded Bentham himself, in our days, as the best-known
and most popular champion of utilitarian morality.
Some words of his preface indicate the intended place
of this review in the development of his own ethical
opinions and theories. Taken by itself, he says it " might
give an impression of more complete adhesion to the phi-
losophy of Locke, Bentham, and the eighteenth century,
than is really the case, and of an inadequate sense of its
deficiencies. But that notion will be rectified by the
essays on Bentham and on Coleridge. These, again, if
they stood alone, would give just as much too strong an
impression of the writer's sympathy with the reaction of
the nineteenth century against the eighteenth. But this
exaggeration will be corrected by the more recent defence
of the greatest happiness ethics against Dr Whewell."
This mental process, in which a zealous defence of
utilitarianism, in name, alternates with a gradual abandon-
ment of some of its main positions, and an approach to those
of an opposite school, reaches its height in Mr Mill's later
MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTHAM. 109
treatise. But my present task is to analyse his praise of
Bentham's writings in this earlier review.
There are two men, according to Mr Mill, to whom
their country owes the greater part of the important ideas,
thrown into circulation among thinking men in their time,
and a revolution of their general modes of thought.
There is scarcely in England an individual of importance
in the world of thought, who did not first learn to think
from one of them. These men are Jeremy Bentham, and
Samuel Taylor Coleridge, the two great seminal minds of
England in their own age.
Of these Bentham was in the main a Progressive, and
Coleridge a Conservative philosopher. The concentric
circles, which the shock given hy them was spreading
over the ocean of mind, were then beginning to meet and
intersect. Bentham saw more clearly the truths with
which existing doctrines and institutions were at variance,
Coleridge the neglected truths they contained.
The first excellence of Bentham is that he awoke the
questioning spirit, and broke the yoke of authority. In-
numerable opinions, received on tradition as incontestable,
were put on their defence, and required to give an ac-
count of themselves. He broke the spell of blind sub-
mission. If the superstition about the wisdom of ances-
tors has fallen into decay, and men are familiar with the
idea that their laws and institutions are in great part the
product of modern corruption, grafted on ancient barbarism,
the ideas have been learned in his school, and the assault
on ancient institutions has been carried on, for the most part
with his weapons. He is the father of English innovation,
the great subversive thinker of his age and country.
But this alone is not his highest title to fame. Nega-
tive philosophers are among the lowest class of the poten-
1 10 MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTHAM.
tates of mind. Such may be formed by secondary gifts
out of the shallowest men, with a sufficient lack of reve-
rence. France had Voltaire and his school of negative
•thinkers, and Scotland the profoundest negative thinker
•on record, David Hume. If Bentham had merely con^
tinued their work, he would scarcely have been heard of
in philosophy. He was far inferior to Hume in Hume's
qualities, and not fitted to excel as a metaphysician,
He had no subtlety, or power of recondite analysis. In
the former gift few great thinkers have been so deficient,
But he had others, not inferior, which made him a main
source of light to his own generation.
And first, he occupied the field of practical abuses;
He was entrapped at Oxford, after a struggle, into signing
articles he did not believe. And throughout life he never
relaxed in his indignant denunciations of all laws which
command such falsehoods, and all institutions, which
attach rewards to them. But besides this incessant war-
fare with abuses, he made it a point of conscience not to
assail error, till he thought he could replace it by a
truth. His mind was synthetic. He laid his own foun-'
dations deeply and firmly, built up his own structure, and
when he had solved the problem, or thought he had done
so, pronounced all other solutions erroneous. Though we
must often reject his practical conclusions, the collections
of facts and observations from which they were drawn
remain for ever. They are a part of the materials of
philosophy. He is thus one of the masters of wisdom, the
great teachers and intellectual ornaments of the human
race. He is among those who have enriched mankind
with imperishable gifts. To deny him this high merit
may be pardonable in the vulgar, but is no longer per-
mitted to any cultivated mind,
MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTHAM. I r I
He was not a great philosopher. But he was a great
reformer in philosophy. He introduced into morals and
politics habits of thought and modes of investigation,
which are essential to the idea of science, and the absence
of which made them fields of interminable discussion,
leading to no result. His method constituted the value
of what he did; — a value beyond all price, even though
we should reject the whole, as we certainly must a large
part, of the opinions themselves. He has thus formed the
intellect of many thinkers, who never adopted, or have
•abandoned, many of his opinions.
With the potent instrument of his new method, then,
he has accomplished something extraordinary, though
little compared with what he has left undone. It is
admirably adapted for making clear thinkers, but not
efficacious for making their thinking complete, It keeps
before the thinker all that he knows, but does not make
him know enough. He reconstructs all philosophy with-
out reference to the opinions of his predecessors. But
philosophy needs materials. Human nature and human
life are wide subjects. Whoever embarks in an enter-
prise requiring large knowledge of them, has need of large
stores of his own, and of all aids and appliances from the
■stores'o'f others.
^Now here, in Mr Mill's view, was Bentham's great
defect. He failed in deriving light from other minds.
His works have few traces of accurate knowledge of any
School of thinking but his own, and many proofs of his
conviction that they could teach him nothing worth
knowing. He speaks of Socrates and Plato in terms'
distressing to his greatest admirers. " He had a phrase,-
•expressive of the view he took of all moral speculations;
flot founded on a recognition of utility as the moral
I T 2 MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTHAM.
standard; this phrase was 'vague generalities.' What-
ever presented itself to him in such a shape, he dismissed
as unworthy of notice, or dwelt upon only to denounce
as absurd^/ The nature of his mind prevented it from
occurring'to him, that these generalities contained the
whojeunanalysed experience of the human race."
"Bentham's contempt of all other schools of thinkers;
his determination to create a philosophy wholly out of
the materials furnished by his own mind, and minds like
his own, was his first disqualification as a philosopher.
His second was the incompleteness of his own mind as
a representative of universal human nature. In many of
the most natural and strongest feelings of human nature
he had no sympathy ; from many of its graver experiences
he was altogether cut off; and the faculty by which one
mind understands a mind different from itself, and throws
itself into its feelings, was denied him by his deficiency
of imagination."
/^"Bentham's knowledge of human nature is wholly
empirical, and the empiricism of one who has had little
experience. He had neither internal experience nor ex^
ternal : the quiet, even tenor of his life, and his healthiness
of mind, conspired to exclude him from both. He never
knew prosperity and adversity, passion and satiety; he
never had even the experience sickness gives ; he lived
from childhood to the age of eighty-five in boyish health.
He knew no dejection, no heaviness of heart. He was
a boy to the last ... Knowing so little of human feelings,
he knew still less of the influences by which those feelings
are formed. No one, probably, who, in a highly instructed
age, ever attempted to give a rule to all human conducty
set out with a more limited conception of the agencies by
which it is, or of those by which it should be influenced,"...
MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTHAM. 1 1 3
"Man is never recognized by him as a being capable
of pursuing spiritual perfection as an end ; of desiring,
for its own sake, the conformity of his own character to
his standard of excellence, without hope of good or fear
of evil from other source than his own inward conscious-
ness. Even in the more limited form of conscience, this
great fact in human nature escapes him. Nothing is
more curious than the absence of recognition in any of
his writings of the existence of conscience, as distinct
from philanthropy, from affection for God or man, and
from self-interest in this world or the next. There is a
studied abstinence from any of the phrases which, in the
mouth of others, imply the acknowledgment of such a
fact. . . Neither the word self-respect, nor the idea, occurs
even once, so far as our recollection serves us, in his whole
writings." (1. pp. 351 — 359).
But if his claims in ethics and philosophy were thus
limited, in jurisprudence, Mf Mill affirms, he had a
giant's. task, and achieved it with the courage and strength
of a hero. He dealt a death-blow to superstitious reve-
rence for English law. He was the Hercules of that
hydra, the St George of that dragon. He expelled mysti-
cism, and set the example of viewing laws as means to
certain definite and precise ends. He cleared up the con-
fusion which attached to the idea of law in general. He
showed the necessity of codification, and took a systematic
view of the wants of society, for which such a code is to
provide, and of the principles of human nature by which
it is to be tested. Lastly, he has carried the philosophy
of judicial procedure, before in a wretched state, almost to
perfection;
The panegyric then concludes : "After every abate-
ment, and it has been seen whether we have made our
B. L. II. 8
114 MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTHAM.
abatements sparingly, there remains to him an indispu-
table place among the great intellectual benefactors of
mankind. His writings will long remain an indispensable
part of the education of the highest order of practical
thinkers, and the collected edition ought to be in the
hands of every one, who would understand his age, or
take any beneficial part in the great business of it."
This criticism, when we remember Mr Mill's early
training amidst the circle of Bentham's devoted admirers,
does" credit to his honesty and candour. The asperity of
tone, which he admits himself in his treatment of the
three Cambridge moralists, and which others have called
captiousness and petulance, is here exchanged for warm,
but not wholly blind, admiration. But if he avoids a
moral fault, he falls into another, for a philosopher almost
as great, of flagrant and irreparable self-contradiction.
The criticism seems to have a double object. Before
the public it seeks to justify and continue the homage,
amounting almost to idolatry, long paid to Bentham by a
small circle of his admirers. But in the eyes of this inner
circle it would displace him, as a very incomplete thinker,
from his pedestal of unapproached eminence. And thus
it makes room for his own honourable ambition, as a more
complete and comprehensive ■ thinker, to attain a still
higher intellectual place than his -master had achieved.
He aspires to be the Aristotle of this great modern Anti-
Plato. He would retain the site, and. some of the founda-
tions, of his system. But the groundplan is to be enlarged,
and the upper courses pulled down, so as to admit of an
entirely new structure, built on a larger scale, and with a
loftier elevation. Bentham is still placed high above the
herd of commonplace minds, and old-fashioned believers
in the Bible, the creeds, and Christian morality. Only
MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTHAM.
"5
his critic reserves to himself the prerogative of a still
higher eminence, and a far more comprehensive range of
mental vision. The claim is not ostentatiously and arro-
gantly made. It rather creeps in by stealth, as the result
of that unconscious self-deception, from which religious
reverence and humility can alone secure active and
vigorous minds. But the issue is what he styles else-
where an "imperfect junction." His traditional homage,
and his true discernment of Bentham's vital defects as a
thinker and reasoner, like the witnesses in the gospels,
do not agree together. The truth and justice of these
large and candid abatements in his view of Bentham's
character cut the ground from under his feet in the
high praise he still lavishes upon him, and which he
seeks to impose, as a moral obligation, on the passive
acceptance of his readers. He clings to a superstition of
his childhood, even at the moment when he proves it, by
■his own frank admissions, to be a delusion and a shadow.
' The wide contrast in his treatment of Paley, the utili-
tarian advocate of revealed religion, and of Bentham, the
constant railer against lawyers, creeds, and churches,
serves to illustoate Bentham's own principle of sympathy
and antipathy in a very conspicuous way.
Are these high eulogies really deserved ? I believe
them to be, in the main, as groundless as I have shown
the reproaches levelled against Paley to be. Whatever
hlame attaches to the divine belongs to the jurist in
equal or even greater measure. The improvements he is
said to have caused are more than balanced by great and
spreading evils, which his works have fomented and in-
creased, till they are becoming hourly more perilous to
the safety and peace of nations. In the cause of genuine
morality, I hold it a duty to. expose the fallacy of these
8—2
i-.,'
Il6 MILL'S REVIEW OF BENT 'H AM.
high pretensions, set up on his behalf, which can only be
sustained by sacrificing the far higher claims of truth,
conscience, and religious faith.
The first merit Mr Mill ascribes to him is that he
ranks with Coleridge as one of the two great seminal
minds of the age. Such estimates of the relative in-
fluence of different writers are often most deceptive.
They depend on the circles in which the critic has moved.
The effect of Bentham's writings among legists, and in
technical subjects of law, may have been very great. That
is a point for lawyers to decide. But in the wide sj)here
of intellectual thought, including physical science, poetry,
philosophy, morals, and religion, there must be at least a
hundred thinkers of his own time, who are justly to be
ranked above him. I have met with numbers of thought-
ful minds, who have owned to a powerful influence from
Cowper, or Scott, or Wordsworth, from Coleridge or
Carlyle, from Stewart or Brown or Hamilton, from Whate-
ly, Arnold, or Isaac Taylor, from Bobert Hall, Vinet or
Chalmers. But I do not remember, in the course of
forty years, to have met with any one who professed him-
self indebted to Bentham for a single important idea.
But even had his relative influence been far wider
than I believe it to have been, a more vital question
remains. The merit of a seminal mind depends wholly
on the nature of the seeds which it has sown. "Men do
not gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles." Yet there
can be no doubt that thistledown is more diffusive, and
has a more prolific virtue, than the fig-tree or the vine.
The main scope of Bentham's writings, passing by
religious truth of all kinds with hardly disguised con-
tempt, is to replace "old-fashioned ethics" by a new
moral arithmetic of his own. And this is based on the
MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTIIAM. \ 17
attempted summation of certain classified pains and
pleasures. One main object of Coleridge was to disprove
and set aside this merely prudential morality of conse-
quences, and to show the vital connection of true morality
and right reason with the high and solemn messages
and doctrines of the Christian faith. Now if the fruit
from one of these seminal minds is worthy of praise, and
answers at all to the corn, wine, and oil of the good land
of promise, the effect of the other must have been, in the
world of morals, to fulfil the curse of the 'patriarch, to
make " thistles grow instead of wheat, and cockle instead of
barley." Some apparent improvement in the secondary
defects of law, and the pruning away of some withered
leaves of ancient forms, will be a poor compensation, if
the very principle of reverence for law and authority is
uprooted and overthrown. The probable result of such a
change, when " subversive thinking" has scattered its seeds
throughout all classes of society, must be what a prophet
describes, when a nation "sows the wind, and reaps the
• whirlwind."
The next ground of eulogy is peculiar and rather
startling. Eentham was "the great subversive thinker of
his age." This, in Mr Mill's judgment, is one, though not
quite the highest, " of his titles to fame." The reason for
this dictum is hardly less strange. " Mankind are deeply
1 indebted to negative or destructive philosophers, nor will
there ever be a lack of work for them, in a world where
so many false things are believed, so many which have
been true are believed loDg after they have ceased to be
true."
What can these meteoric truths be, true yesterday,
and false to-day or to-morrow ? This is not explained.
They seem to be visions of the same abnormal philosophy,
1 1 8 MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTHAM.
which has led Mr Mill to suspect that two and two may
perhaps make five in some unknown and distant world.
But the main assertion is clear. The world owes a deep
debt to those who undertake to pull down falsehoods, and
expose absurdities, even without having any knowledge of
the truths to replace them. Now this is itself a moral
absurdity and falsehood of the plainest kind. What can
such men do, but replace one falsehood by another, only
redoubling the confusion ? They may do still worse.
Under the nickname of falsehoods and absurdities they
may assail truths too high, too deep, or too wide, to be
learned or received by rash and frivolous minds. On
feentham's own principles, this pulling down of actual
/usages and opinions, when there is nothing certainly
(better to replace them, must cause pain to the many,
pleasure only to a few. It can thus have only a negative
rvalue. The only ground for praising such efforts is when
something nobler and better replaces what is overthrown.
The work of a moral scavenger may be useful, though
scarcely honourable. But scavengers, who are blind also,
can be nothing more than a dangerous nuisance.
The next topic of praise is of a higher kind. Alone
among thousands, he had the moral sensibility and self-
reliance to oppose the profitable frauds of the law, and the
immorality of church creeds and tests. The former sub-
ject I leave to the lawyers, and shall confine myself to the
second and more important.
The claim, which is set up for Bentham under this
head, is a strange instance of distorted moral reasoning.
He was sent to Oxford when only fifteen, was required
on admission to declare his assent to the Thirty-Nine
Articles ; and, when he felt scruples, was told that it was
not for boys like him to set up their judgment against'the
MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTHAM. 119
great men of the church. He signed after a struggle, but
the impression never left him that he had done an im-
moral act. And he never relaxed, we are told, in de-
nouncing laws which command such falsehoods, and
institutions which attach rewards to them.
I have no doubt that the imposition of the test, as was
done so long at Oxford only, on all young students first
entering college, was a folly almost amounting to a public
crime. It would have been wrong and foolish, even if
nine-tenths of the freshmen could be expected to have
gone first through a course of theological study, and to
have satisfied themselves of the truth of every sentence.
In the actual state of the church and country, it could
only generate the immoral custom of subscribing sacred
words without believing them, or in some nonnatural
sense. Its direct tendency must thus have been to lower
and destroy the instinct of truthfulness in the rising gene-
ration.
So far, I think, Bentham was right, and the practice
he censured to be greatly deplored. But it is a strange
error to set up a claim of high moral sensibility, because
he first signed articles of faith without believing them,
and then railed at the university, through a long life, for
having exposed him to the temptation. It is no less
foolish to say that the law commanded the falsehood, and
attached a reward to it. Thousands of honest and upright
Nonconformists, in the two last centuries, have forborne
to seek the benefits of Oxford residence, or others of the
same kind, because of the tests imposed, and never
thought of claiming for themselves any heroic virtue,
Bentham merely yielded to a temptation, which many
others more honest have resisted and overcome, though
a still larger number may have yielded to it, and never
120 MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTHAM. ,
felt so deep a regret for what they had done. To cast the
whole blame on an unwise law, when it attaches con-
ditions too rigid, or otherwise unsuitable, to the fulfilment
of a trust, or the enjoyment of a privilege, and to give a
martyr's praise to the deceiver, who pretends to satisfy a
condition he has not fulfilled, turns upside down the
plainest lessons of morality. Keal remorse, in such a
case, will be disposed to modest silence. The outcries of
Bentham, for fifty years afterward, against both univer-
sities, and all religious tests, are no proof of delicate
moral sensibility, but of wounded pride alone.
We reach at length more solid ground, if the praise
can be sustained. Unlike the mere negative thinkers,
Bentham, it is said, undertook to build up as well as pull
down. It was when he had solved a problem, or thought
he had done so, that he declared all other solutions
erroneous. Hence what they produced will not last, and
must perish with the errors it has exploded ; but what he
did has its own value, and will outlast all errors to which
it is opposed.
Here Mr Mill can hardly disguise the perplexity which
results from a false position. He attempts to reveal a
stroDg contrast, where, by his own admissions, no real
contrast can be found. There can be no merit in rasing;
a
to the ground, or burning to ashes, all the buildings of a
metropolis, though the streets may be irregular, and some
houses unsightly, and its worst courts and alleys nests of
vice, if the only result is to rear a few Indian wigwams
amidst the smoking ruins. The only real excuse for
Bentham's crusade against all things established, and his
contempt for previous writers, current creeds, and actual
laws or systems of morals, would be his ability to surpass
them, and rear something more noble, august, and ex-
MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTHAM. 121
cellent, on the sites he had cleared. But how could this
be done by a writer, of "wbom his warm admirer has to
make all these strange admissions ? What does he tell us
■of this Bacon of jurisprudence, this Newton of social
science? That his knowledge of human nature was
singularly bounded and empirical. That his empiricism,
further, was that of a most limited experience. Other
ages and nations were a blank to him for the purposes of
instruction. He was devoid of imaginative power. He
never once recognized even the existence of conscience,
as distinct from affection and self-love. He never recog-
nized the nature of man, as a being capable of pursuing
spiritual perfection as an end. In other words, the funda-
mental conception of true ethical science was strangely
and wholly absent. These admissions Mr Mill proceeds at
once to make. How, then, can the attempt of a writer,
thus disqualified, to set aside all previous philosophies,
creeds, and institutions, and regenerate society by a new-
devised moral arithmetic of his own, raise him to a higher
level than such negative thinkers as Hume and Voltaire ?
Must it not rather aggravate their fault by a self-conceit
and rashness so extreme, that it almost ceases to be
ridiculous, and by its very audacity borders closely on the
sublime ?
But at least, it is said, he was a great reformer in
philosophy. He brought into it a new method it greatly
needed, and for want of which it was at a standstill, with
habits of thought and modes of investigation, essential to
the idea of science. The method has a value beyond all
price, even should we reject the whole, as we certainly
must a large part, of the conclusions themselves. It con-
sists in detail, in treating wholes by separating them
into their parts, abstractions by resolving them into things,
122 MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTHAM.
and breaking every question into pieces, before attempting
to solve it. In the rigidity with which Bentham adhered
to this plan there was the greatest originality. Hence
his interminable classifications, and elaborate demonstra*
tions of the most acknowledged truths.
A new method, first discovered a few years ago by a
person of very narrow experience, for solving the hardest
problems of reason, faith, conscience, social and political
duty, which the greatest minds have studied and written
upon for thousands of years, bears on its face the strongest
suspicion of quackery and imposture. This is only con-
firmed by the features just named, by these classifications,
involving, as Mr Leckie observes, no real subtlety of
thought, and new demonstrations of old and familiar
truths. Mr Mill has said just before that his distinctive
character, in contrast with mere negative thinkers, is to
be synthetic. But now his chief excellence is his analytic
method. He solves great questions, not like knots, by
patiently untying their complications, nor like planets
and stars, by using a mental telescope of high power and
achromatic clearness, but like the stones used for mend-
ing roads, by breaking them in pieces. Surely this is a
strange improvement on earlier methods for solving social
problems, and exploring the mysteries of human life and
the human heart.
In this praise of the new method Mr Mill forgets his
own philosophy. For with him things themselves are
only bundles of sensations, or possibilities of sensation, in
.some way tied up together. So that Bentham's specific,
as he describes it, once fully carried out, would leave us
neither things, laws, persons, principles, nor fikbits, nor
any possible basis for definite reasoning and fixed conclu-
sions, but numbered and ticketed sensations alone. ■ Dis*
MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTHAM. 123
section may have its uses, no doubt, not only in schools of
anatomy, hut in the fields of scientific thought. But to
count up details, and neglect the principles on which they
depend, and rely for the laws of social life on dissection
and partition only, can never lead to genuine science.
We might reckon up, with a wearisome arithmetic, all the
atoms of which the sun, planets, satellites and streams of
meteors are composed. But who could approach, in this
way, to a true and comprehensive conception of the solar
system ? Who can understand the marvellous structure
of the human body, by weighing the oxygen, hydrogen,
nitrogen and carbon which remain, when that structure is
destroyed, and the corpse is given to the flames ? v
Mr Mill's own admissions thus disprove the praise of
Bentham's method. They make it hard to understand
how he can be serious in this extravagant eulogy. First,
he owns that his materials were unusually limited and
defective. Next, he maintains that pleasures differ in
quality and kind, as well as in quantity. The new arithmetic,
then, consists in the attempted summation of incommen-
surables, like adding surfaces to solids, or weights to
values. Lastly, he admits that the greater part of the
results are erroneous. This new method, then, in morals
and politics, which turns the deepest problems of human
life and duty into tables, like those of logarithms, calcu-
lated beforehand, of the total amount of happiness ground
out from twenty different kinds of pleasure, and in which
most of the calculations give wrong results, can be nothing
else than a grotesque parody of genuine science. S
The next topic of praise is Bentham's warfare against
mere phrases used in the place of arguments. If they
appealed to no external standard, and implied no fact, he
{seated them as mere devices to impose opinions on
124 MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTHAM.
others, without the trouble of giving any reason. Mr
Mill quotes the passage Ch. III. sec. 1, with approval,*
where the censure is applied successively to all the terms,
the moral sense, common sense, right understanding,
eternal and immutable morality, the truth of things, the
fitness of things, the law of nature, right reason, natural
justice, and Divine illumination. He thinks that Bentham
has the high merit of being the first to point out that
these phrases contain no argument.
The subject recurs in a later review. Dr Whewell had
styled the same passage extravagant ridicule, a wild
method of dealing with adverse moralists, and yet ac-
cepted with humble admiration by some of Bentham's
followers. Mr Mill rebukes his presumption, and defends
it once more. Bentham did not mean that people really
asserted the follies he ascribes to them, but that they
really held them without knowing it, and that the phrases
passed muster in this way. Let us examine what this
repeated apology is really worth.
In every subject we must arrive, sooner or later, at
some first principles or fundamental ideas, beyond which
we cannot go. But we may perhaps walk around them,
view them in different lights, translate them into different
dialects, each suggesting its own analogies and resem-
blances, and thus obtain a. fuller and clearer view of their
real character. We pass here from the region of argu-
ment and deduction to that of intuition. But this
intuition only grows clear, when the eye of the mind is
steadily fixed upon it, traces its likeness or unlikeness to
other truths, or acts of the understanding, and embodies
these perceptions or discoveries in some answering phrase.
The doctrine of utility must submit to this common
law of all human thought, no less than those which
MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTHAM. 125
Bentham ridicules and condemns. Why should we aim at
some distant pleasure, instead of following the impulse of
the present moment ? Why should we regard the pleasure
of others, as well as our own ? Why sacrifice our pleasure
to. theirs? Why calculate a maximum, and adopt the
result, instead of obeying the simpler call of selfish in-
stinct, or unselfish and generous love \ How can we rise
beyond a mere guess that what pleased us yesterday will
please to-morrow, or that sequences in past years will
determine sequences of actions wholly distinct, in years to
come ? The doctrine of utility, when it strives to elude
all reference to ultimate ideas, brings in a dozen questions
of this kind. And it can never solve them, or appear to
solve them, without some assumption or other of the same
kind with those which Bentham condemns.
The good sense of Paley here forms a bright contrast
to Bentham's extravagant ridicule, and to the superficial
defence of that ridicule, and attempt to convert it into a
claim of especial merit, on which Mr Mill has ventured.
He writes as follows :
"Why am I obliged to keep my word ? Because it is
right, says one. Because it is agreeable to the fitness of
things, says another. Because it is agreeable to reason
and nature, says a third. Because it is conformable to
truth, says a fourth. Because it promotes the public good,
says a fifth. Because it is required by the will of God,
concludes a sixth. Upon which different accounts it is
observable. First, that they all ultimately coincide. The
fitness of things means their fitness to produce happiness. -
The natureof things means that actual constitution of the
world, by which such and such actions produce happiness,
and others misery. Reason is the principle by which we
discover or judge of this constitution. Truth is this
126 MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTHAM'.
— ■»- 'I _
judgment, drawn out into propositions. So that what
promotes public happiness, or happiness on the whole, is
necessarily agreeable to the fitness of things, to nature,
reason, and truth ; and such is the Divine character that
what promotes the general happiness is required by the
will of God; and what has all the above properties must
needs be right. For right means no more than con-
formity to the rule we go by, whatever that rule may be.
This is the reason that moralists, from whatever different .
principles they set out, commonly meet in their conclu-
sions. That is, they enjoin the same conduct, prescribe
the same rules of duty, and with a few exceptions deliver
in dubious cases the same determinations."
These words of Paley throw light on the mistake into
which Bentham and Mill have both fallen, and which the
former has made doubly repulsive by ridiculing deeper
thinkers and better moralists than himself. They have
confounded various presentations of the primal idea, es-
sential to all moral science, with a deductive proof of its
existence and reality, or the means for applying it, in
detail, to the guidance of human life.
The alleged merit, then, of Bentham is really a grave
defect, shared by his apologist. But the claim proceeds
further. The application of a true inductive philosophy
to the problems of ethics was unknown, it is said, to the
Epicureans as well as all others. This is Bentham's own
prerogative. He has finally installed it in philosophy, and
made it henceforth imperative upon writers of every school.
And this is nothing less than a revolution in philosophy.
A very wide question is here started, and renewed
both in the later review and treatise, the place of induc-
tion, deduction, and intuition in moral science. I shall
hope to discuss it more fully in a separate lecture. For.
MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTHAM. 127
the present I make only one or two brief remarks. Mr
Mill errs equally, I think, in his use of the term, and in
his assertions that the title belongs to Bentham's method,
of its general adoption, and its superlative value. The
method may be piecemeal and fragmentary, but is deduc-
tive, not inductive. By his own admission, this deduction
is ■attempted with materials most defective in amount, and
in their very nature, from differences in kind, unmanage-
able for such a process of calculation. It could thus lead
to right conclusions only by a happy chance. In Ben-
tham's hands, by Mr Mill's own account, the chances have
proved unfavourable, and we have no proof that it has
been more successful in his own. In Ch. xvn. of Pro-
fessor Grote's Examination there is an able and convinc-
ing refutation of this claim, which Mr Mill here makes on
his master's behalf, of a Baconian revolution in moral
science. He writes as follows :
. "The moralists of last century, who spoke variously
of a moral sense, or a faculty which they supposed might,
be made matter of psychological observation, all supposed
that they were following Bacon and Locke, and setting
Moral Philosophy on an inductive basis, on principles,
namely, of observation, experience, a posteriori reason. In
foot if, setting aside the truth of one or the other system,
and comparing only the methods, we consider which falls
in most with the idea of going only by experience, 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 kindness, of fairness, of,
generosity, of moral approval of some things and condem-
nation of others, and that these different sorts of feelings
are in substance the same for all men, at least to the
game extent that happiness is the same for all men,
128 MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTHAM.
Against this fact of experience utilitarianism sets the
consideration, true perhaps, but 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 of
a principle like this and then of a course of deduction
from it, can be considered a morality of experience, as
against a morality resting immediately on the experience
of human feeling, is what I cannot understand."
"As regards the extent to which the one and the other
of these kinds of philosophy makes morality matter of
observation, and in this respect likely to grow and im-
prove, the former does so in reality much more than the
latter. Human feeling of pleasure and pain, what consti-
tutes human happiness, is matter of observation to both:
but in addition to this, human feeling of liking and repug-
nance, what it is that stirs sympathy, also an undoubted
fact of human nature, is matter of observation to the
former... so untrue is it that utilitarianism, as distin-
guished from other systems of morality, is the morality of
observation and experience. The reverse is the fact.
Utilitarianism confines or excludes observation, giving us
assumption instead." (pp. 263 — 266.)
Another merit ascribed to Bentham is his process of
exhaustion. "By rejecting all which is not the thing,
he works out a definition of what it is." The method,
indeed, is as old as philosophy itself. Plato owes every-
thing to it and does everything by it. Bentham was
probably not aware that Plato had anticipated him in the
process, to which he too declared that he owed every-
thing. "His speculations are thus eminently systematic
MILL'S REVIEW OF BEN Til AM.
129
and consistent. He has impressed an admirable quality
•on ' minds trained in his habits of thought, that they
digest new truths as fast as they reoeive them."
A method, which has slumbered for twenty-four cen-
turies, from Plato to Bentham, and led the- first to con-
clusions which the second calls mere nonsense and folly,
and the second to others which his own disciple and
admirer calls mainly erroneous, can claim a very limited
and dependent excellence at most. Its virtue must de-
pend wholly on the way in which it is used. In Plato's
hands it was often highly effective, and the handmaid
to "thoughts and truths of the noblest kind. But in
Bentham, from his unusual want of power to apprehend
such truths, it leads only to a kind of moral sand-waste, a
mapping out into rectangles and squares of a wide and
dreary expanse of marshes and lagoons of thought. Mi-
Mill seems to forget how much easier it is to arrange in
sets lifeless counters, than to arrange and classify, and
describe aright, the muscles, nerves, and vertebras of the
human body. Those great defects in Bentham s system,
of which he complains, make a process of exhaustion and
dissection, of course, far simpler. But they render it also
comparatively worthless.
The systematic nature of Bentham's writings has
doubtless had much to do with his influence as a leader of
thought. Writers, in whom this is absent, usually gain
no more than a fitful and transient power over the minds
of others. But its real worth must depend on two con-
ditions, the comprehensive materials of the system, and
the soundness and truth pf the first principles on which it
is based. The great defect in Bentham J s materials Mr
Mill has fully acknowledged. The fault in his principles
is equally real, and still more vital, however Mr Mill may
B. L. II. 9
130 MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTHAM.
strive to disguise an evil in which he shares largely. This
method, then, either in the hands of the master or his dis-
ciples, can give them no real claim to high places in
moral and political philosophy. A child may learn easily
to count the fingers or the toes, and to distinguish
the eyes, ears, nose, and mouth from each other. But he
does not thereby rise into the character of a learned
physician or skilful anatomist, well versed in the secret
powers, the mysterious faculties, and marvellous sym-
metries of man's bodily frame.
The last claim set up for Bentham, and the truest, is
that he is an eminent jurist, and a great reformer of
English law. In other respects Mr Mill has abated
largely from the homage paid to him by his warm and
zealous admirers. As moralist, philosopher, and meta-
physician, he deposes him to a secondary place. He
seems to feel it, then, like a debt of honour, to extol
highly his merits as a reformer even in philosophy, but
chiefly in law, his peculiar province. And here indeed
there is something like a consent of high authorities. -
Not only Mill and Austin, who share his ethical stand-
point, but Mackintosh, Whewell, and Blackie, who re-
nounce and disown it, offer a common tribute to his.
labours as a jurist. Dr Whewell writes of him as follows:
"He laboured assiduously to reduce jurisprudence to a
system. Such an attempt, if carried through with any
degree of consistency, could hardly fail to lead to valuable •
results. In a body of knowledge so wide and various, all
system-making must bring into view real connections and
relations of parts ; and even if the basis be wrong, those
connections will admit of being translated into the terms
of a truer philosophy. Truth emerges from error sooner
than from confusion. But his principle is really applica- ■;
MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTHAM. 131
ble to a great extent in legislation, and covers almost the
whole of the field with which the legislature is concerned.
In his mode of performing the task there are great merits
and great drawbacks. The merits are system, followed
out with great acuteness, illustrated with great liveliness,
and expressed in a neat, precise, and luminous style."
Sir J. Mackintosh and Professor Blackie, both opposed
to Bentham's ethical principles, praise him in his efforts
as a law reformer even in still higher terms. And Mr
Mill, as if to compensate for abandoning his defence as a
philosopher, rises here into a poetical fervour, unlike his
usual style. He has dealt a deathblow to reverence for
English law, which instead of the perfection was the shame
of human reason. He has been the Hercules of this hydra,
the St George of this dragon. He has opened its traps and
pitfalls, where the teeth of hyenas, of foxes, and all cunning
animals, were left imprinted on the curious remains of
antediluvian caves. The honour of the victory is all his
own. He found its philosophy a chaos, and he left it a
science. He found its practice an Augean stable, and
turned through it a river which is fast sweeping away all
its rubbish. He has thus become the first seminal mind
of his age, and one of the great intellectual benefactors of
mankind, one of the great teachers and masters of wis-
dom; and has enriched the human race with imperishable
gifts, which approach to, though they may not, as some
still more zealous admirers have thought, equal or even
transcend "all Greek, all Roman fame."
It may seem rash and invidious to dispute the justice
of these encomiums, and not to rest satisfied with the
kind of compromise between deep dislike and blind
idolatry, which Mr Mill has proposed, and striven to
impose as a moral obligation on all educated men. I can
9—2
132 MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTHAM.
pretend to no wide acquaintance with English law, c
perusal of the whole series of Bentham's works. On
grand fault, also, of his moral system, its pure external
ism, does not apply, or very slightly, to his legal labour!
since human laws are external in their very nature, bein
formed and executed by those who cannot read the hear)
It is thus quite possible and natural that Bentham shoulJ
have greater merit, and approach nearer to the truth, il
questions of jurisprudence than in ethical science. Still
the union of the two subjects is so intimate and vital
that these lofty encomiums on his exploits, even ii
this field, can hardly be received without betraying th<
cause of sound morality and of Christian truth. This
at least, is my own deep and settled conviction. A writer
who does not even recognize, as Mr Mill admits, the exis-
tence, of conscience, whose allusions to religious faith anc
doctrine are chiefly marked by contemptuous indifference^
and in whose works there is hardly a trace of any high
instinct or lofty aspiration, can never be enthroned as
the Solon of present and future legislation without dis-
astrous results to the moral welfare and true happiness^
of mankind.
And first, these high claims and pregnant admissions
can only be reconciled by setting aside Bentham's own
authority. He professed to base all his legal reforms'
on his improved ethics, and rejects the idea with scorn,
that he might rank low as a moralist, and still as a legist
be extolled to the skies. " Those," he says, "who are will-
ing to distinguish between politics and morals, to assign
utility as the foundation of the one, and justice of the
other, announce nothing but confused ideas. The -only
difference is that one directs the operations of govern-
ment, the other the actions of individuals. But their
MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTHAM. 133
'(jbject is common ; it is happiness. That which is politi-
cally bad cannot be morally good, unless we suppose that
the rules of arithmetic, true for large numbers, are false
for small ones."
Such, then, in Bentham's own judgment, is the rela-
tion between his moral dicta and his conclusions in the
field of legal reform. Both are cases of arithmetic, one
applied to individuals, the other to large numbers of men.
In the simpler case, according to Mr Mill, the arithmetic
is faulty, and the results "for the most part" erroneous,
because the materials used were far too limited, and the
faculty for using a wider experience was almost wholly
absent. With this failure in the simpler problem, which,
applies to one person only, we are to believe in prodigious!
and unexampled success, when the like arithmetic is used
to determine the laws, the institutions, the happiness, and
future destiny, of whole nations. Such a contrast in the
double result 'is incredible, however Mr Mill may impose
its acceptance, as a clear moral duty, on every cultivated
mind.
But let us compare this high claim and these candid
admissions in themselves, and see how they can agree.
Here, first, we have a school of thought, which nowhere
recognizes the existence of conscience, or regards self-
culture as a duty, or men as capable of aiming at moral
perfection ; which treats existing dogmas in religion with
habitual neglect, and religion itself as a variable product
of opinion, a supplement to law, and an aid to police;
which is so modest, that it charges Socrates and Plato
with talking only nonsense, and so self-satisfied that
it despises, as vague generalities, " the whole unanalyzed
experience of the human race." I may add to Mr Mill's
own description, with equal truth, so cold and heartless,
134 MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTHAM.
that it never offers a glimpse of lofty and heroic inspi-
ration; so earthly, that it leaves wholly out of sight
the precepts and promises of the gospel, man's, immor-
tality, the doctrine of a coming judgment, and the hopes
of the life to come. How can such a school of thought
produce a sound philosophy, able to reform and recast,
and mould anew into higher and more perfect shape,
the laws and customs of a Christian people? No stream
can rise above its fountain. No theory of jurisprudence,
based on the doctrine that man's highest aim in life is
to work out certain sums in arithmetic, very hard to
work aright, on totals of attainable pleasure, and which
further ranks the pleasures of adultery and malevolence
side by side with those of heroic virtue or seraphic de-
votion, can fail, whether applied to individuals or nations,
to prove itself a most deceptive and dangerous guide.
No doubt, as a great " subversive thinker," to adopt
Mr Mill's own phrase, Bentham may have rendered effec-
tive service to the cause of legal improvement. So dyna-
mite has been found very useful for blasting hard rocks,
that would resist feebler agents, and has turned them
into materials with which human skill may construct
afterward some noble breakwater, where a thousand ships
find refuge and shelter in the storm. But no build-
ing, whether pier or breakwater, private home or stately
palace, can be reared by such explosive mixtures alone.
And nothing firm or lasting, nothing noble or generous,
no scheme of laws and institutions worthy a great nation
like our own, can possibly be reared on the basis of such
principles as Bentham has laid down in his works. The
structures he would substitute for those he maligns and
strives to destroy have no pledge for their stability. They
are built, not on the rock, but on the quagmire. They
MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTHAM. 135
have no roots in the deepest, truest, and noblest instincts
of the human heart. They resemble rather those card
castles, inscribed with ingenious pictures or geometrical
diagrams, which children set up for their own amusement.
One touch of military violence, one breath of popular
caprice, will prove enough for their overthrow.
Let us compare the two sides of the account, even as
Mr Mill has placed them before us, with a few helps from
Bentham's works. The legal abuse which first awoke his
indignation, we may assume, has disappeared, and three
attendances in Chancery are no longer charged, when only
one is given. Codification has been proved, in theory, to
be attainable, and commissions have Sat upon it, though
it is still far from being attained, Some branches of law
have been simplified, though new ones have arisen out
of later wants and inventions, and leave the total, per-
haps, as complex as before. The method of procedure, in
books, has been brought near to perfection ; while still
in practice a civil suit, and a criminal, have proved
more interminable than was ever known before. Various
teethrnarks of foxes and hyenas in the ancient caves of
British legislation may perhaps have been effaced and
done away.
Such are the gains alleged. What are the losses or
dangers ? The great body of the people, for whose re-
straint or guidance English laws are designed, have been
diligently and zealously trained in such lessons as these.
First, that the laws under which their fathers lived and
died, and their country grew into honour and greatness, are
a hydra, of which the heads need to be cut off ; a dragon,
which the new patron saint of utilitarianism has had to
conquer and slay; a heap of ordure, through which sub-
versive thinkers have done well to turn a river, that is
136 MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTHAM.
fast sweeping it away. Next, that their rulers have suf-
fered the nation to be preyed upon by swarms of useless
placemen, and this not from negligence and imbecility
alone, but from a settled plan of oppressing and plunder-
ing the people; and that no thanks are due to the laws, if
they have escaped from being the victims of every heart-
less oppressor. They have been further trained in the
new theory of government, that its main object should be
to make the numerical majority supreme, to give " the
greatest number" absolute power, and then to keep this
power in their hands, whoever the nominal rulers, their
humble and passive delegates, may be. They have been
taught, by the example of the new Solon, to be sternly
and fiercely abusive of the imagined faults of their supe-
riors, and blind and insensible to their own. They learn,
from his parting voice, to regard as idle talkers of non-
sense all who venture to speak to them of their duties,
and to account it a proof of their own good sense to care for
their interests alone. They have been told, further, that
the difference between the purest religious faith and the
foulest superstition is verbal only; that religion has not
been powerful enough to do good, but that its power of
doing evil has always been great ; and that it is religion
which made Philip the Second, Mary of England, and
Charles of France, the scourge, the tyrant, and the
butcher, of the countries over which they ruled.
Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles?
When this question of the Great Teacher of true wisdom
receives an affirmative answer, then may a subversive
thinker, whose teaching I have just described from his
own writings, claim justly a high place among the masters
of wisdom, the intellectual lights and guides of the human
race. Such lights are no stars in God's firmament.
MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTHAM. 137
They can only be passing meteors, that " lead to bewilder,
and dazzle to blind." They may draw out their cata-
logues of springs of action. But in these the true main-
springs of all right Christian action, the fear of God and
the love of Christ, will find no place. They may invent
panopticons for state prisoners. But they will have helped
to banish from the thoughts and policy of nations the
true Panopticon, daily faith in the Supreme Judge, and
the presence of His allseeing eye. They may mend the
details of human laws, may square the trunk by rule
and compass, cut off useless twigs or decayed branches,
and thus give an air of greater symmetry to the whole.
But their pains will be worse than useless, if through
their teaching the life has perished, and the spirit of
loyalty, and all habits of respect for law and authority,
have wholly passed away.
The writings of Bentham have had wider acceptance
among the so-called men of progress in France and on the
continent than in his own country. And those who look
below the surface, and have not cultivated themselves
into contempt alike for Christianity and the nobler forms
of heathen philosophy, may see there plain signs of the
tendency and issue of such instruction, when widely
received. What are the moral features conspicuous in
France and Spain at this hour, and which threaten to
invade our own shores, and disturb society from its foun-
dations? Laws despised, authority enfeebled, liberty
degenerating into violent self-will; uneasy, feverish oscil-
lation, from irreligion to blind superstition, and back to
fcreligion and mockery again; a social state where nothing
is fixed or stable, and new constitutions grow up, like
mushrooms, in a night, and perish almost as soon as they
are born. If fixed principles cease to be found in states-
138 MILL'S REVIEW OF BENTHAM.
men, or habitual probity in merchants, or purity and peace
in the hearths of domestic life, and multitudes sport on in
the eager pursuit of idle amusements or sensual pleasures,
while the earth still rocks and trembles under their feet,
to what shall we ascribe these threatening symptoms of
political confusion and moral decay ? May we not trace
them, at least in part, to the influence of a teacher, who
claims to regenerate society by a new moral arithmetic ;
but who never owns the reality of conscience, alludes to
religious faith only with open contempt or secret dis-
paragement, indulges in violent abuse of the ministers of
law and the teachers of religion, and still is held up by
Mr Mill to admiration and reverence, as one of the greatest
ornaments and benefactors of mankind ?
So long, I believe, as such principles are widely cur-
rent, and their advocates held in especial honour as leaders
and guides of public thought, a dark and troubled future
must be in store for the nations where they prevail. The
foundations will have been destroyed. The floodgates of
selfishness and passion, of popular self-will and impatience,
will have been opened wide, and the torrent sweep over
the land. The fixed institutions of social life, and the
guiding lights of Christian faith and piety, will be veiled
and disappear. Unless the evil be arrested and reversed
by the spread of a truer, deeper, and loftier morality,
based on the authority of conscience, God's deputy hi
the heart, and the voices of revealed and eternal truth,
the results must be deplorable. Soon or late the stars in
their silent courses will fight against guilty nations, where
conscience is denied, God is forgotten, pleasure alone is
worshipped, and the maxim of the old sensualists is en-
throned supreme in the hearts of men, " Let us eat and
drinkjjor to-morrow we die."
LECTUEE V.
BENTHAM AND THE ASCETIC PRINCIPLE.
Theee elements enter into the complete conception of
Moral Science. The first is a law or ideal standard of
right and wrong, which goes before and prepares the way
for all right and worthy action. The second is that con-
stitution and moral capacity of the agent, whereby the
ideal is more or less distinctly perceived, and awakens
moral emotions, the subjects of personal and inward
experience. The third consists in the results or later con-
sequences of right or wrong action. The systems in which
these are respectively prominent are the objective or
ideal, the subjective or emotional, and the utilitarian,
apobatic, or external. The only just and complete view
is one into which all these elements enter, but each in
its due order. Whenever isolated, they must tend to
produce three varieties of error, the idols of the clouds,
the marketplace, or the cave.
The first and highest aspect of morals is that which
contemplates an ideal standard of humanity, an image of
the Divine perfection, conceived as prior to the actual
conditions of human life, and including laws of goodness
and righteousness, settled for ever in heaven. But these
will take a special form from those facts of experience,
which are reechoed and confirmed by the witness of
Divine revelation. The doctrine of the fall, transferred
140 BENTHAM AND THE
from theology to practical life, reveals itself in the con-
flict between the flesh and the spirit. It teaches that
man has a lower and a higher nature, a worse and a truer
self, instincts of mere animal pleasure, and a higher and
nobler law of conscience, which strive for the mastery;
and that he is prone by nature to follow the downward
rather than the upward path. Experience proves the
fatal proneness of mankind to embrute the soul, and,
quench the light of conscience, and neglect all high aspi-
rations after moral excellence, and the spiritual perfec-
tion of their being.
The moral ideal, then, in man's actual state, involve^
a doctrine and law of ceaseless conflict. It enjoins on
him a constant effort that the flesh, the lower and cor-
rupt nature, may be subdued to the spirit. It bids him*
cultivate, at whatever cost of present sacrifice, those in-
stincts, habits, and desires, which constitute inward holi-
ness, and whereby his merely animal life may be raised
and transformed into one spiritual, heavenly, and Divine.
Such is the definition of Christian Asceticism in its
best and purest form. It finds its basis in that saying of
the Apostle, the only place where the root occurs in the
New Testament, — " Herein do I exercise myself, to have
a conscience void of offence towards God and towards
men." And it has its further illustration in the spiritual
gymnastics he imposed on himself, and recommended to
his son in the faith;— "I so run, not as uncertainly; so
fight I, not as one that beateth the air, but I keep
under my body, and bring it into subjection." " Exercise
thyself unto godliness ; for bodily exercise profiteth little;
but godliness is profitable for all things." The lesson it
enforces has deep roots in the conscience, and has always
appealed to the best and highest instincts of the noblest
ASCETIC PRINCIPLE. 141
natures, and been the fruitful parent of heroic deeds.
But in proportion to its truth and excellence is the risk
of great perversion and abuse, when some form of pride
or gloomy superstition replaces genuine wisdom and
Christian love as the secret mainspring of outward acts of
self-denial. The pattern of the true ascetic is the great
Apostle, from whose words to Felix the name is borrowed,
and who dedicated all his powers, with noble self-sacrifice,
to the glory of God and the highest welfare of mankind.
The false ascetic has his type in the Indian fakir, or a
Simeon Stylites, condemning himself on his pillar to filth
and solitude, in order to gain the admiration of the
vulgar, or to purchase for himself freedom from Divine
anger, and a stock of fancied merit in the sight of heaven.
It seems a true instinct, then, which has led Bentham
to place the ascetic principle first in order in a threefold
distinction of moral systems, since it embodies really the
special form of ideal morality suited to a fallen world ; and
to place next to it, under the name of " a principle of
sympathy and antipathy," the subjective, internal, or
emotional aspect of ethics ; while the third and last is the
apohatic or utilitarian, which traces the moral nature of
actions in their outward effects and consequences alone.
Since, however, his object is not to reconcile these three
views, and assign their nature and limits, but to explode
the first and second, and enthrone the third in exclusive
supremacy, the natural effect follows from this delusion of
a narrow mind. He replaces the true description of ascetic
and subjective morals by a ridiculous travesty. He deals
with the moral teachers he dislikes as the Inquisition
dealt often with its victims, and clothes them with a suit
of motley, to make them ridiculous, before consigning
them to the flames. It is not surprising that great nar-
142 BENTHAM AND THE
rowness of vision, joined with singular self-conceit, should
lead to such controversial caricature. But it is rather
surprising, when the fault has been temperately pointed
out and condemned, that Mr Mill should undertake its
defence, and become the champion, in Bentham, of that
misrepresentation of rival teachers, from which he himself
is usually free. The statement, which has given rise to
such opposite comments, is in these words.
" This principle (the ascetic) is the antagonist of that
which we have just been examining. Those who follow
it have a horror of pleasures. Everything which gratifies
the senses, in their view, is vicious and criminal. They
found morality on privation, and virtue on the renounce-
ment of one's self. In one word, the reverse of the
partisans of utility, they approve of everything that tends
to diminish enjoyment, they blame everything which
tends to augment it.''
"This principle has been more or less followed by two
classes of men, who in other respects have scarce any
resemblance, and even affect a mutual contempt. The
one class are philosophers, the other devotees. The
ascetic philosophers, animated by the hope of applause,
flattered themselves with the idea of seeming to rise
above humanity by despising vulgar pleasures. They
expect to be paid in reputation and glory for all the
sacrifices which they seem to make to the severity of
their maxims. The ascetic devotees are foolish people,
tormented by vain terrors. Man, in their eyes, is but a
degenerate being, who ought to punish himself without
ceasing for the crime of being born, and never to turn off
his thoughts from that gulf of eternal misery which is
ready to open beneath his feet. Still, the martyrs to
these absurd opinions have, like all others, a fund of hope.
ASCETIC PRINCIPLE. 143
Independent of the worldly pleasures attached to the
Teputation of sanctity, these atrabilious pietists flatter
themselves that every moment of voluntary pain here
below will procure them an age of happiness in another
life. Thus even the ascetic principle reposes upon some
false idea of utility. It acquired its ascendancy only
through mistake. This mistake consists in representing
the Deity, in words, as a Being of infinite benevolence,
yet ascribing to Him prohibitions and threats which are
the attributes of an implacable being, who uses his power
only to satisfy his malevolence. We might ask these
ascetic theologians, what life is good for if not for the
pleasures it procures us, and what pledge have we for the
■goodness of God in another life, if He has forbidden the
enjoyment of this ?"
" The devotees have carried the ascetic principle much
farther than the philosophers. These confined themselves
to censuring pleasures, the religious sects have turned the
infliction of pain into a duty. The Stoics said that pain
was not an evil, the Jansenists maintained that it was
actually a good. The philosophical party never reproved
pleasures in the mass, but only those which it called gross
and sensual, while it exalted the pleasures of sentiment
and the understanding. Always despised and disparaged
under its true name, pleasure was received and applauded,
when it took the titles of honour, glory, reputation, de-
corum, or self-esteem."
On this passage, and one which follows, describing the
principle of sympathy and antipathy, Dr Whewell has
observed that they are not true descriptions of any views
ever held by moralists, and are almost too extravagant to
he accepted even as good caricatures. Mr Mill under-
takes their advocacy. In his review of Bentham he claims
144 BENTHAM AND THE
for him in his account of " sympathy and antipathy " the
eminent merit of first pointing out that the phrases he
ridicules " contain no argument." In the review of Dr
Whewell he goes further, and justifies the previous de-
scription in these words : —
" Undoubtedly no one has set up, in opposition to the
'greatest happiness' principle, a 'greatest unhappiness'
principle as the standard of virtue. But it was Ben-
tham's business not merely to discuss the avowed prin-
ciples of his opponents, but to draw out those which,
without being professed as principles, were implied in
detail, or were essential to support the judgments passed
in particular cases. His own doctrine being that the
increase of pleasure and prevention of pain were the
proper end of all moral rules, he had for his opponents all
who contended that pleasure could ever be an evil, or pain
a good, in itself apart from its consequences. Now this,
whatever Dr Whewell may say, the religious ascetics did.
They held that self-mortification or even self-torture,
practised for its own sake, and not for the sake of any
useful end, was meritorious. It matters not that they
may have expected to be rewarded for these merits by
consideration in this world, or by the favour of an in-
visible tyrant in the world to come. So far as this life
was concerned, their doctrine required it to be supposed
that pain was a thing to be sought, and pleasure to be
avoided. Bentham generalised this into a maxim, which
he called the principle of asceticism. The Stoics did not
go so far, they stopped halfway. They did not say that
pain was a good, and pleasure an evil. But they said,
and boasted of saying, that pain is no evil, and pleasure
no good, and this is all and more than all that Bentham
imputes to them, as may be seen by any one who reads
ASCETIC PRINCIPLE. 145
that chapter of his work. This, however, was enough to
place them, equally with the ascetics, in direct oppo-
sition to Bentham, since they denied his supreme end to
be an end at all."
This defence of Bentham and rebuke of Dr Whewell,
as coming from a professed logician, is very strange.
It assumes that Bentham is blamed for treating those as
opponents, who did not really differ from his views in
any degree. But that is not the real charge. It is that
he assigned to these opponents, because they differed
from him, a principle the exact antithesis of his own,
which no one but a lunatic could ever hold. In plain
words, to give point to his strictures, and simplify his
polemic, he commits a controversial falsehood. No one,
it is owned, had ever set up a "greatest unhappiness'* prin-
ciple. Yet this is exactly what Bentham says the ascetic
moralists had done. And this statement clearly deserves
moral censure. Even ascetics, however despised by him-
self or his followers, . come certainly within the shelter
of the Divine precept, "Thou shalt not bear false witness
against thy neighbour."
The reasoning of Mr Mill is of this singular kind. It
is wrong to charge Bentham with ascribing to his oppo-
nents an absurd doctrine they never held, because, in spite
of Dr Whewell's complaint, they really held a doctrine
quite distinct from that of Bentham himself, as well as
from that he ascribed to them.
There is surely a wide difference between teaching that
all pleasure is evil, and all pain good, or that the true aim
of right action is to diminish enjoyment, and a simple
averment that the pleasant and the good are not the same,
and that habitual self-denial in this life may be the true
preparation for the fullest enjoyment in a life to come.
B. L. 11. 10
146 BENTHAM AND THE
But the excuse goes further. It was the business of
Bentham, his apologist says, not merely to discuss the
professed principles of his opponents, but to draw out
those which were implied without being expressed, and
which were essential to support their practical judgments.
This duty, however, if it be a duty at all, is subject to one
plain condition. A clear distinction ought always to be
made between doctrines really held by those from whom
we differ, and our own opinions or inferences as to the
principles they imply, or the results to which they lead.
Herein consists the whole difference between honest
and searching controversy and calumnious falsehood. Dr
Whewell made no charge against Bentham for having
attempted, by a logical process, to show that the doctrine
of the Stoics, or the practice of devotees, must involve the
paradoxical conclusion that the right end of all moral
action is to diminish enjoyment. The charge really
brought against him was that no such attempt was made,
being plainly impracticable, and that he substitutes ridi-
cule for reasoning, by imputing to them a most absurd
principle they never held. The complaint is perfectly
true. The imputation and the ridicule are themselves
ridiculous, and Mr Mill's attempt, by a process of reason-
ing, to disprove Dr Whewell's charge, is only a fuller con-
firmation of its justice and truth.
But the steps of Mr Mill's argument are as faulty as
the statement he would vindicate is untrue. The religious
ascetics, it is said, contended that pleasure is sometimes
an evil and pain a good, apart from their consequences,
and therefore Bentham counted them rightly among his
opponents. Be it so. This Dr Whewell never denied, as
Mr Mill affirms him to have done. It is one thing, how-
ever, to deny that all pleasures are good, and quite anor
ASCETIC PRINCIPLE.
147
ther, to affirm that all pleasure is evil. It is strange for a
logician to confound these things together. And next, the
notion that these ascetics viewed actions or sufferings
wholly apart from their consequences is abandoned as soon
as it has ..been affirmed. No attempt is made to prove their
more limited denial of Bentham's doctrine, that the plea-
sant and the good are the same, to be an error. In his
later work Mr Mill himself accepts the view that pleasures
differ in kind and excellence as well as in quantity. By
this concession he thus approaches more than half way to-
wards the doctrine, which, as held by the Christian ascetics,
ne has before condemned.
A second description of their principle is then given,
that self-mortification and even self-torture, practised for
its. own sake, is meritorious. This is not the same with
the first. A new Pharisaic element of human merit has
been introduced. In the very next sentence, however,
this, Proteus of the ascetic theory takes a third form.
Instead of practising austerities for their own sake,
and for no worthy end, a very opposite description
is now given. They " expected to be rewarded by repu-
tation in the world, or the favour of an invisible tyrant in
the life to come." Here Mr Mill cannot admit a plain
fact, without colouring and distorting it by his own preju-
dices. For these ascetics, as a class, certainly did not be-
lieve that the God of the Bible was a tyrant, but a Being
of infinite wisdom and goodness. But even on his own
view of their opinions, they were very far indeed from
practising austerities for their own sake. They merely
took into account a far wider range of expected conse-
quences than secular utilitarians, from their want of re-
ligious faith and hope, are able to do.
The. argument now reaches a fourth stage. This
10—2
148 BENTHAM AND THE
expectation of theirs, it is said, "matters not." Not cer-
tainly as to the wisdom of their condixct, if this opinion of
theirs was only a superstitious fancy. But as to the moral
principle or law by which they were guided, clearly it
matters everything. If this last description of them he
true, it settles at once the true nature of their moral
theory. They could then be no patrons of a rival system
but one special class of the genus, utilitarians. They
would have chosen Bentham's own revised maxim, of aim-
ing at " the greatest happiness on the whole," long before
he was born. And they would differ only by introducing
into their own method of moral calculation elements of
the most important kind, which he passes by in silence,
or rejects as visionary and unreal.
From this fruitless attempt of Mr Mill to repel Dr
Whewell's charge, I return to the passage of Bentham, on
which the discussion has arisen. At every step some im-
portant moral question is overlooked, and passed in silence,
on which a right view of the whole subject must really
depend.
First, it is said, the ascetics " have a horror of plea-
sures. Everything which gratifies the senses, in then-
view, is odious and criminal." Here, at the first step,
the confusion of thought begins. Pleasure is used in an
ambiguous sense. In the statement itself it is restricted
to sensible or animal pleasures, for it is clearly untrue that
the ascetics had a horror for the pleasures of piety, or
speaking generally, for those of reputation and self-esteem.
But in the exposition of utilitarianism the word is taken
in its widest sense, and includes the highest as well as the
lowest, enjoyment of whatever kind. The sharp contrast
alleged is thus a mere verbal illusion. It is possible to
renounce, and even to abhor, all sensible pleasures, and still
ASCETIC PRINCIPLE. 149
to abide by tbe principle of seeking, on the whole, the
greatest, truest, and highest enjoyment. It is possible to
condemn a large class of pleasures for reasons wholly un-
sound, and still, instead of setting up a rival maxim to
that of " the greatest happiness," to be guided in reality
by that principle alone.
A second description follows. The ascetics "founded
morality on privation, and virtue on the renouncement of
one's self." This merely places them among disciples of the
Great Teacher who said, " If any man will be my disciple,
let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and fol-
low me. He that findeth his life shall lose it, but he that
loseth his life for my sake shall find it." To reject the
principle wholly, as Bentham seems here to do, must in-
volve a claim to be a wiser and better moralist than Christ
himself. To found a scheme of morals on pure self-indul-
gence, as Bentham has striven to do, is at least as hard a
task as to found it simply on self-denial. But in either
case this is the crucial question: What is the self to be
indulged or gratified, and what the self to be denied ?
Many or most ascetics may have erred greatly in the ap-
plication of their principle. It is a very imperfect half-
truth, when it stands alone. But as a class, they had a
truer conception of the hard moral problem which grows
out of a joint presence in man of a worse and a -better
self, of a lower and a higher nature, than Bentham and his
disciples or admirers have ever attained.
Next, these ascetics " approve everything which tends
to diminish enjoyment, and blame everything which tends
to augment it.' ; Here the untruth is of the most plain
and palpable kind. It would imply that these Christian
ascetics, as a class, did all in their power to empty hea-
ven, and people hell ; and instead of aiming earnestly at
I jO BENTHAM AND THE
eternal happiness, laboured of set purpose to make them
selves and others miserable for ever.
The ascetic philosophers, we are next informed, ex
pected to be paid in reputation and glory for their seven
maxims. They never reproved pleasures in the mass, bu
degraded those of sense compared with those of sentimen
and the understanding. It was rather a preference fo:
one class than a total exclusion of the other. How ridicu
lous, then, to make them one of two classes, who hell
an ascetic principle, that the true end of right action i
to diminish, not to increase enjoyment ! From Bentham'
own admission it is plain that they held no such maxim
but rather the direct reverse. Their real doctrine, tha
pleasures differ in kind as to their goodness, is far true
and sounder than his own. Even Mr Mill, who labour
here to excuse this caricature of their opinions, adopts i
-as the only sound and reasonable view in his later work.
But a further question must arise. If the view of thesi
philosophers were merely absurd, why should they expec
to be paid for their sacrifices in reputation and glory
How can we explain that such a hope should be enter
tained, and even largely fulfilled ? Nature, Bentham says
has placed man under the absolute empire of pleasure an<
pain. And no doubt it is natural to shrink from all pain
and to choose and pursue whatever pleases the senses
Yet it seems that those who resist this impulse, and foreg<
pleasure and endure pain for some worthy object, and whi
learn, in Milton's words,
To scorn delights, and live laborious days,
are so highly esteemed by their fellows, that the glor
thus achieved may even form a compensation for the sacri
fices they have made. There must thus be a widespreac
ASCETIC PRINCIPLE. 1 5 1
feeling, even among those who yield to these powerful in-
fluences, that it is nobler and more honourable to refuse
and reject their absolute dominion. The love of sensible
pleasure, and the avoidance of sensible pain, do not then
comprise or constitute the whole nature of man. There
must be some higher faculty, which judges when pleasures
are to be sought or foregone, when pain is simply to be
avoided, or boldly encountered and patiently endured.
Heroic virtue itself may be rare. But some conviction of
its excellence and beauty must be deep-seated in the
heart of man, or else the expectations of these philosophers
could never have been fulfilled. They would have been
despised as mere fools, rather than held in special honour
by the general voice of their fellow-men.
The religious ascetics, however, come in for the largest
share of Bentham's displeasure and scorn. Yet no sooner
has he defamed them as holding a doctrine purely ab-
surd, than he convicts his own charge of utter falsehood.
" These atrabilious pietists," he says, " flatter themselves
that every instant of voluntary pain here below will pro-
cure them an age of happiness in the life to come." If
such was their motive, plainly they were utilitarians,
though of a species widely different from his own. A dif-
ferent estimate of the best means for securing the greatest
amount of happiness is foolishly confounded with some-
thing wholly different, the mental lunacy of a so-called
ascetic principle, consisting in the deliberate rejection of
all enjoyment, and the choice of pain and misery.
The oscillation of thought, in these paragraphs of
Bentham, is provoking and incessant. His ascetic de-
votees, first of all, are senseless anti-utilitarians. Next,
they are far-looking, but deceived utilitarians, who ex»
pected ages of happiness for each moment of self-torture
152 BENTHAM AND THE
or self-denial. Thirdly, they are anti-utilitarians once
more, who went beyond the Stoics, and held pain in itself
to be a good. And lastly, they were both at once ; for they
accepted the principle of all sound morals and good laws,
that pleasures are to be avoided, when they lead to greater
pain or loss, and inferred from it that all pleasure alike is
evil, and, with a few indulgences for human weakness, should
be the object of universal prohibition ! And this charge
against them is deduced from the premise, that they for-
bade pleasures which, in their view, would involve some
immensely greater loss in the life to come. It is this
wonderful series of contradictions of which Mr Mill under-
takes the especial patronage. It forms the porch to the
new philosophy which is to constitute its author the
Bacon of moral science, and ensure him one of the highest
places among the intellectual benefactors of mankind !
Let us now endeavour to gain some insight into the
real question, which Bentham by his caricature, and Mr
Mill by his apqlogy, have done their utmost to involve in
mist and darkness. There is a great truth wrapped up
in utilitarianism. There is another truth, and one still
deeper, inwrought into the texture of Christian asceticism,
and the school which has some affinities with it, heathen
Stoicism. How may we trace the connection between
them, and find a bridge of transition from the lower and
more superficial to the higher and more mysterious truth?
Let us begin from Bentham's own starting-point.
Pleasure is good, and pain is evil. It is natural and instinc-
tive to choose one, and avoid the other. Nature has
placed us under the double empire of their attractive and
repulsive powers. Hence arises a first law of action,
which is not moral, but purely instinctive, to pursue
pleasure and avoid pain. "Rejoice, O young man, in
ASCETIC PRINCIPLE. I 53
thy youth, and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of
thy youth; and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in
the sight of thine eyes." Here this first maxim pauses,
and goes no higher. And sometimes, instead of com-
pleting the sacred text, it passes into an opposite and
more comprehensive direction: "Let us eat and drink, for
to-morrow we die."
But utilitarianism, from Epicurus down to Bentham,
cannot rest in this first and lowest stage of Hedonics, in
which present impulses are the supreme law, and the
direct empire of pleasure and pain, from moment to
moment, is absolute and supreme. This despotism needs
to be changed into a limited and constitutional monarchy.
The lessons of experience come in. All pleasures are not
to be indulged, because some of them have bad effects.
All pains are not to be avoided ; some of them are found
to be medicinal, and have good consequences. And thus,
out of the vast sea of Hedonics, where each rippling of
the waves is a momentary pleasure, that sparkles for an
instant and disappears for ever, the virtue of Prudence,
like a sea-born Venus,
Far fleeted by the purple island sides,
rises slowly to preside over this ocean of perpetual change,
and receives a kind of worship as the supreme guide of
human action, the tutelary divinity of a new moral world.
/-■ This is the utilitarian stage of Ethics. Its main con-
ception is simple. All the pleasures or pains which result
from every act or course of action are to be summed into
one total ; and the character of this total, as the pleasures
or pains are in excess, and in excess to a less or greater
amount, decides the question of right or wrong, of moral
good or moral evil.
154 BENTHAM AND THE
But here further and deeper questions intrude them-
selvesj Of these three are the most important. How
far ought out view to travel onward in foresight of those
consequences, on which this moral decision must depend?
What rule or principle must guide us in our estimate of
those pleasures or pains, of which the total is composed ?
What deeper lessons are taught and implied by this
strange fact, on which prudent utilitarianism is based,
that pleasure may be the cause of greater pain, and pain
of greater pleasure ? When these three questions have
received a right and true answer, a sacred fire will have
been kindled, by which gross and vulgar utilitarianism
will be consumed and destroyed. There will arise phoenix-
like from its ashes a nobler vision of self-denying, ascetic
virtue ; or of that highest and Christ-like form of moral
excellence, which aims, by wise and willing self-sacrifice^
at glory, honour and immortality, the garland of the
hero, or the martyr's crown.
And first, how far ought our wise foresight of conse-
quences to extend ? Here there comes at once into view
the broad contrast between Bentham and Paley, or a
religious and a non-religious form of the utilitarian theory.
Is there, or is there not, a life to come, that will endure
for ever? Have we, or have we not, any means of know-
ing, either by natural reason, or supernatural revelation,
the connection between a present course of conduct in
this life, and results, joyful or sorrowful, in such a life to
come ? If such a life has been revealed, or may be in-
ferred by human reason, and any light exists on its con-
nection with present things, every theory of moral conse-
quences, which looks only to results in the present life,
must be senseless and irrational. The remark of Paley
is here most true : "While the infidel mocks at the super-
ASCETIC PRINCIPLE. 155
stitions of the vulgar, and insults over their credulous
fears, their childish errors, or fantastic rites, it does not
occur to him to observe that the most preposterous device
by which the weakest devotee ever believed that he was
securing the happiness of a future life is more rational
than unconcern about it. On this subject nothing is so
absurd as indifference, no folly so contemptible as thought-
lessness and levity."
Secular utilitarianism can be justified only by one of
these three assumptions: that there is no future life, that
its happiness is wholly independent of, and unaffected by,
our present conduct, or else that the connection, however
real it may be, is wholly unrevealed and unknown. Now
each of these alternatives is an equal denial of the
Christian faith. All calculations, like those of Bentham,
in which the doctrine of a life to come, and the promises
and warnings of the gospel, are kept wholly out of sight,
are little better than a kind of solemn trifling, which
must tend rapidly to sink and degenerate into mis-
chievous folly. They would be completely worthless, if
it were not for another great truth, taught alike by reason
and Scripture, that the consequences of actions, even here,
though liable to many causes of strong disturbance, de-
pend mainly on those true laws of moral sequence or
retribution, which will find their perfect, undisturbed
^development in the life to come. "Whatsoever a man
'soweth, that shall he also reap." And this reaping,
though at present in part only, begins even here. Our
earthly life is a kind of seed-bed or nursery, where those
plants first begin to bloom, which are to blossom out
more fully and clearly in the Paradise of God.
The ascetic devotee, who renounced all sensible plea-
sures, or practised hard and painful austerities, would not
I 56 BENTHAM AND THE
thereby contradict in' the least the doctrine of utility, or
the so-called " greatest happiness principle," when taken
in its simplest and most proper meaning. He would
merely avoid one grand fault of the secular utilitarians,
though he often at the same time introduced another in
its stead. He would escape the great and evident folly
of reckoning the very transient results of right and
wrong deeds, in this short and fleeting life, as far more
important than their eternal issues. The error introduced,
which tends to neutralize the gain, is a superstitious
view of the laws of duty prescribed and enforced in the
gospel. The great disease of asceticism is when Stoical
pride or Pharisaic self-righteousness replaces the lessons
of Christian humility and love, and a painful discipline is
invented, of suffering or self-torture, to render the soul
acceptable to God ; instead of accepting the discipline He
has himself appointed, and seeking to tread in the foot-
steps of the Great Pattern of self-denying love.
But whether our view is bounded by the grave, or
extends to the life to come, a second question remains.
What principle is to guide us in our relative estimate
of pains and pleasures ? The old Epicurean doctrine here
diverges from the Stoics and the Academy, and the
same separation and contrast is renewed in modern times.
Bentham and Paley, whose views on the last subject are
in entire contrast, here agree together, and range them-
selves on the side of Epicurus. Pleasures, in their scheme,
do not differ in kind, but in quantity, nearness, or in-
tensity alone. Mr Mill, in his later treatise, forsakes
Bentham on this point, and ranges himself on the opposite
side, along with the old disciples of the Academy, or
modern advocates of the morality of intuition. The
pleasure of a sugarplum, and of witnessing or performing
ASCETIC PRINCIPLE. 157
a noble action, cannot, in their view, be reduced to a
common unit, or summed up in a total, -which admits of
numerical calculation. Some pleasures are higher, others
lower in kind. "It is better," says Mr Mill, "to be a
human being dissatisfied than a pig satisfied, a Socrates
dissatisfied than a fool satisfied." " Neither pleasures nor
pains are homogeneous, and pain is always heterogeneous
with pleasure." But by this one admission, the whole of
Bentham's ethics, as a practical system, is undermined.
Its very foundation is overthrown. The new moral arith-
metic becomes impossible in its own nature. For it
strives to sum up elements diverse and heterogeneous,
and then to frame totals out of them, on the amount of
which the moral character of every action is wholly to
depend.
. The admission involves a further result, which Mr
Mill fails to notice. If pleasures are owned to differ in
kind as well as quantity, so that some are of a higher
class, and others of a lower, these differences may include
.moral as well as intellectual elements. These pleasures
may not only differ in their rank and dignity, but by
features of moral contrast. Is a thing always really good,
because some one or other is pleased with it ? Is a person
good, or is he enjoying a real good, because he is pleased
with something or other, whatever it may be? Here com-
mon sense gives a plain answer. Men may sometimes be
greatly pleased, and still be pleased amiss.
He ceased, for both seemed highly pleased, and Death
Grinned horrible a ghastly smile.
The pleasures of bad men may be their shame, not from
the fact of their being pleased at all, but from the nature
of that which pleases them. That which delights the
158 BENTHAM AND THE
gross, the base, the licentious and the impure, may cause
intense pain and disgust to the pure, the upright, and the
noble, in mind and heart. When the drunkards, of whom
the Psalmist prophesies, made songs upon the Son of God,
no doubt they had a pleasure in their drunken and wicked
ribaldry. Pleasures are good, not because they are plea-
sures, but because those who experience them are pleased
aright. And this lesson of plain common sense is con-
firmed and reechoed by the clear testimony of Holy
Scripture. For pleasure there includes the widest moral
extremes. It speaks of pleasures eagerly to be desired,
and highly praised, and of others to be condemned and
abhorred. Thus it is written of the blessedness of the
risen Saviour, "In Thy presence is fulness of joy; at Thy
right hand there are pleasures for evermore." On the
other hand, the worst and lowest forms of human guilt
are marked by the double character of evil men, that
"their soul delighteth in their abominations," and that
they not only commit wicked acts themselves, but take a
sympathizing pleasure in them that do them.
Here, then, we pass on to a second stage in that
change by which the arithmetic of Bentham's utilitarian-
ism has to be elevated and transformed, before we can
attain a genuine morality. It is not simply true that we
need to include, in the range of consequences, the lessons
of Christian faith, and the doctrine of a future judgment,
and the life to come. "We need also to distinguish the
various kinds of pleasures, and not only their degrees of
dignity and worth, but their contrasts of health and
disease, of reality and illusion, of moral good or moral evil.
The doctrine, which Bentham ascribes without reason to
the ascetics, that all pleasures are evil, is simply foolish
and absurd. Its converse, which he maintains, that all
ASCETIC PRINCIPLE. I 59
pleasures alike are good in themselves, apart from their
consequences, is corrupt and immoral. For it makes the
mere fact of being pleased a sufficient proof of being
pleased aright, and promotes the disgusting orgies of sen-
sual vice or unblushing profligacy to rank, in their own
nature, side by side with the delights of heroic virtue, or
the joys of pure and spotless spirits in the presence of
God.
But a further question still demands an answer. How
is it that pain can lead to pleasure, or pleasure be the
cause of pain? Utilitarianism can escape from the charge
of justifying a sensual life, and the indulgence of every
instinct of man's animal nature, only by laying stress on
the future consequences of actions, and on the fact, which
experience proves, that some pleasures, like those of in-
temperance, lead to evils and sorrows which far outweigh
their immediate gain. Now surely a true philosophy
should look deeper, and ask how it is that this comes to pass.
If pleasure be the only good, and pain the only evil, how
can the good of this moment cause the evil of the next, or
evil now done or suffered become the source of future and
larger good ? Like produces like throughout the whole
range of animal and vegetable life. The offspring ever
resembles the parent. Is this law reversed in the world
of morals ? Can that which is the only good be parent of
that which is the only evil; or the only evil, in its turn,
become parent of the only good? And can this strange
paradox be carried so far, that the qualities of the parent
are annulled and reversed by the opposite character of
the many children, so that many pleasures have to be
.renounced, because they generate greater pain, and some
pains to be chosen, because they produce and bring forth
greater pleasures? How is it that the maxim "nocet
160 BENTHAM AND THE
empta dolore voluptas," which emhodies this fact of
experience, has hecome a moral aphorism of the most
familiar kind ?
This cardinal ohjection to Bentham has been enforced
by Dr Calderwood in his Handbook, as by many earlier
writers. " That the painful may lead to the pleasurable,"
he says, "is proof that pleasure and pain are not ends in
themselves, but simply attendants on personal action. Of
contraries, one cannot produce the other."
This great fact, which utilitarian writers have to make
prominent, in order to free themselves from the reproach
of teaching a doctrine of sensuality, implies the truth of
one out of two alternatives. It must result, either from
the actual constitution of the world, capable of reversal
by the will of the Supreme Creator, or else it must be
viewed as a necessary adjunct, inherent in the very nature
and objects of the pleasures and pains themselves.
The former view is one which arises spontaneously in
the minds of the selfish, the profligate, and the licentious.
It gives birth, in secret, to ten thousand hard and dis-
contented thoughts, and blasphemies against the Divine
goodness. Men follow blindly the craving for immediate
pleasure. They seek to gratify it, even when it assumes
the lowesb and most degrading forms. And when these
pleasures, which they have sought so eagerly, prove like
apples of Sodom, and turn to ashes in their mouth, they
complain of the cruel fate, which robs them of happiness,
when a better constitution of things, or a kinder and more
benevolent Providence, might still have secured it to them.
The words of the wisest of men are then fulfilled, "The
foolishness of man perverteth his way, and his heart
fretteth against the Lord."
The working of this common illusion is conspicuous in
ASCETIC PRINCIPLE. l6l
Benthams foot-note, where he points out what he con-
ceives to be the folly of the ascetic devotees. It consists,
he says, in ascribing to the Deity prohibitions and threats,
which are the attributes of an implacable Being, who
uses his power only to satisfy his malevolence. We may
ask these ascetic theologians, what life is good for, if not
for the pleasures it procures us ? What pledge have we
for the goodness of God in another life, if He has for-
bidden the enjoyment of this ?"
Here it is plainly assumed that the connection of pain
with sequent pleasure, or pleasure with sequent pain, so
far as the ascetics are concerned, is wholly of an arbitrary
and reversible kind. In this case the argument, assuming
the doctrine to be that all pleasures are forbidden, will be
simple and decisive. Universal malevolence in this life
can never be the pledge or sign of universal benevolence
in some other life to come. But then, the objection, on
the same hypothesis, lies almost with equal force against
Bentham's own view. How can it consist with perfect
benevolence, to make pain, in a large class of cases, the
constant sequel of certain pleasures, and in another as
large, the needful condition for securing them, if the rela-
tion is purely a capricious and arbitrary thing 1 Thus the
whole constitution of life, on which the " greatest happi-
ness" philosophers base their lessons of prudence, and
reason against the rash indulgence of mere animal plea-
sures, lies open to the very same charge which has been
made against the folly of religious devotees. They can
only escape from the same guilt of imputing malevolence
to the Divinity, either by shutting their eyes to the facts,
and refusing all exercise of reason on the principle to
which they make their constant appeal, or by looking
below the surface, and tracing it to a deeper truth, which,
B. L. II, 11
1 62 BENTHAM AND THE
once discovered and seen clearly, must prove fatal to then-
whole theory.
Unless we would justify, then, the foolish complaints of
the sensual, the indolent, the immoral and impure, against
the constitution of Providence, as a capricious and ma-
levolent source of all their troubles, we must accept the
other alternative. The connection between some pleasures
and sequent pains, between certain pains and sequent
pleasures, is no capricious and arbitrary thing, no result of
partial or entire malevolence in the Supreme Will. It
depends rather upon an essential contrast in the pleasures
or pains, out of which opposite results, though obscured
for a time by the manifold complications of human life,
inevitably flow. There are pleasures which, in themselves,
are good and right. There are others which in them-
selves, and before the consequences are born, are impure
and evil. And the fruit resembles the seed. The children
bear the image of their parent. The evil which seems to
be good, and pleases because of that illusive semblance,
begets consequences only according to its true nature, and
not according to that illusive semblance which must soon
disappear. The pain endured in the cause of right, in a
world where evil still prevails, and fights against the right,
though it may be inseparable from the present conflict,
yields fruit according to its true character, disguised for
a time in that evil world; and must issue, in due season,
in triumphant happiness and moral victory. Christian
asceticism became corrupt and injurious, just so far as it
construed Divine cautions, and prohibitions of sensual vice,
into capricious restraints on human enjoyment. In these
cases it sought proudly to lay up a stock of merit in a
future life, by serving God as a hard and severe task-
master, and reversed the great maxim of the Apostle, that
ASCETIC PRINCIPLE. 1 63
He giveth all things richly to enjoy. But all its wiser
disciples recognized, in the great law of self-denial, en-
forced by the example of the Incarnate Son of God, a
fundamental truth of morals, not created by the fiat of
arbitrary power, but revealed by Divine wisdom and good-
ness, to guide the steps of His children, amidst snares and
pitfalls, into a narrow and upward pathway of life and
peace, issuing in eternal glory. In this, its truest and
noblest form, it embodies a truth far higher, nobler, and
more excellent, than Bentham or those who admire and
prize his teaching can ever possibly have attained. It is
to such ascetics, in the best sense of the word, and the
true spirit of the Gospel, and not to those most busily
employed in grinding out duty from the husks of pleasure,
that the striking words of Milton in Comus most fitly
apply.
Yet some there be that by due steps aspire
To lay their just hand on the golden key
That opes the palace of eternity.
To such mine errand is, and but for such
I would not soil these bright ambrosial weeds
With the rank vapours of a sin-worn, world.
11—2
LECTUEE VI.
THE PKINCIPLE OF SYMPATHY AND
ANTIPATHY.
The second rival, according to Bentham, of the doctrine
of utility, is the Principle of Sympathy and Antipathy.
He styles it also Ipsedixitism, the Arbitrary Principle, or
the Principle of Caprice. It consists, he says, in appealing
to sentiment, and giving no other reason for a moral
decision than the decision itself. Several pages are given
to a description of its various forms, which Dr Whewell con-
demns as extravagant ridicule. Mr Mill undertakes his
defence, and quotes the passage at length in two reviews.
In one case he joins it with an apology, but in the other
he ascribes to it some eminent merit. It represents, in his
opinion, the cause of progressive morality, in contrast to
the blmd deification of habit and opinion. The main
portion of the statement is as follows :
" What one expects to find in a principle is something
that points out some external consideration, as a means of
warranting and guiding the internal sentiments of appro-
bation and disapprobation. The expectation is but ill
fulfilled by a proposition which does neither more nor
less than hold up each of these sentiments as a ground or
standard for itself."
SYMPATHY AND ANTIPATHY. 165
" In looking over the catalogue of human actions, says
a partisan of this principle, to determine which of them
are to be marked with the seal of disapprobation, you need
but take counsel of your own feelings. Whatever you
find in yourself a propensity to condemn is wrong for that
very reason. For the same reason it is also meet for
punishment. In what proportion it is adverse to utility,
or whether it be adverse to utility at all, makes no differ-
ence. In that same proportion also it is meet for punish-
ment. If you hate much, punish much; if you hate little,
punish little: punish as you hate. If you hate not at all,
punish not at all: the feelings of the soul are not to be
overborne and tyrannized by the harsh and rugged dic-
tates of political utility."
" The various systems that have been formed concern-
ing the standard of right and wrong may all be reduced to
the principle of sympathy and antipathy. One account
may serve for all of them. They consist in so many con-
trivances for avoiding the obligation of appealing to any
external standard, and for prevailing on the reader to
accept of the author's sentiment or opinion as a reason
for itself. The phrase is different, but the principle is the
same. It is curious enough to observe the variety of
inventions men have hit upon, and the variety of phrases
they have brought forward, in order to conceal from the
world, and if possible from themselves, this very general
and very pardonable self-sufficiency."
"One man says, he has a thing made on purpose to tell
him what is right, and what is wrong, and that it is
called a moral sense; and then he goes to work at his
will, and says, such a thing is right, and such a thing is
wrong, — why? 'Because my moral sense tells me it is.'"
"Another man comes and alters the phrase, leaving out
1 66 THE PRINCIPLE OF
moral, and putting common in the room of it. He then
tells you, that his common sense teaches him what is right
and wrong, as much as the other's moral sense did;
meaning by common sense a sense of some kind or other,
which, he says, is possessed by all mankind; the sense of
those, whose sense is not the same as the author's, being
struck out of the account as not worth taking. This
contrivance does better than the other; for a moral sense
being a new thing, a man may feel about him a good
while, without being able to find it; but common sense
is as old as the creation, and there is no man who would
not be ashamed to be thought not to have as much of
it. as his neighbours. It has another great advantage.
By appearing to share power, it lessens envy; for when a
man gets up on this ground, in order to anathematize
those who differ from him, it is not by a sic volo, sic jubeo,
but by a velitis, jubeatis."
"Another man comes and says, that as to a moral sense
indeed, he cannot find that he has any such thing; but
however he has an understanding, which will do quite as
well. This understanding, he says, is the standard of
right and wrong, it tells him so and so. All good and
wise men understand as he does. If other men's under-
standings differ in any point from his, so much the worse
for them; it is a sure sign that they are either defective
or corrupt."
'Another man says that there is an eternal and im-
mutable rule of right; that that rule of right dictates so
and so; and then he begins giving you his sentiments
upon anything that comes uppermost, and these senti-
ments, you are to take for granted, are so many branches
of the eternal rule of right."
"Another man, or perhaps the same man, it's no matter,
SYMPATHY AND ANTIPATHY. 167
says that there are certain practices conformable, and
others repugnant, to the fitness of things; and then
he tells you at his leisure what practices are conformable
and what repugnant, just as he happens to like a practice
or dislike it."
"A great multitude of people are continually talking
of the Law of Nature, and then they go on giving you
their sentiments about what is right and wrong; and
these sentiments, you are to understand, are so many
chapters and sections of the law of nature."
"We have- one philosopher, who says there is no
harm in anything in the world but telling a lie; and
that if, for example, you were to murder your own father,
this would be only a particular way of saying he was
not your father. Of course, when this philosopher sees
anything he does not like, he says it is a particular
way of telling a lie. It is saying that the act ought to
be done, or may be done, when in truth it ought not to be
done.''
" The fairest and openest of them all is that sort of man
who speaks out, and says, I am of the number of the
elect; now God himself takes care to inform the elect
what is right; and that with so good effect that, let them
strive ever so, they cannot help not only knowing it, but
practising it. If therefore a man wants to know what is
right and what is wrong, he has nothing to do but to
come to me."
Here, first of all, the subject is obscured by a very de-
fective arrangement of moral creeds or systems. The true
distinction is not twofold, but threefold. The basis of
moral science may be viewed as objective, subjective, or
external. The first of these insists on a fundamental
contrast of right and wrong, derived from the perfection
1 68 THE PRINCIPLE OF
of the Divine nature, and the primary conception of a
moral agent, as endued with the power of choice, and
exempt from physical compulsion, and thereby made sub-
ject to a higher and nobler law of moral obligation.
When this doctrine is combined with those lessons of
human infirmity and corruption, which are taught alike
by Scripture and experience, it leads at once to the best
and truest forms of Christian asceticism. For then it
reminds us that there is a high and pure standard of
moral perfection, which we should strive earnestly to
attain ; that there is a lower nature, which is ever tempt-
ing us, and dragging us downward; and that patient self-
denial is needful, in order to realize the just claims of
the Divine law, and the true spirit of the Gospel, and to
walk in that narrow and upward path, which leads to
peace, life, and immortality. Such is the true and noble
asceticism, which St Paul has described, 1 Cor. ix. 24 — 27,
and enforced by his own bright example. And it is liable
to a double counterfeit, on the right hand, and on the
left. This genuine hunger and thirst of Divine righteous-
ness may be then replaced, either by the terrors and
fevered anxiety of a guilty conscience, or the false and
diseased excitement of spiritual pride. Penances may
then be self-imposed, and severe and painful tortures
endured, either to banish and silence, if possible, the fear
of future punishment, or else to purchase, by a stock of
fancied merit, the joys of heaven.
This objective morality, when dissevered from the
Christian doctrine of human guilt and corruption, may
assume various intellectual forms. Three of these are
included in Bentham's enumeration, along with a fourth,
of a more theological kind, presented in a brief caricature.
Moral Duty may be viewed, with Plato and Cudworth, as
SYMPATHY AND ANTIPATHY. 1 69
something immutable and eternal; or with Clarke, as
resulting from the reason and fitness of things; or with
Wollaston, as derived from the essential truth of their
real nature. Again, it may he viewed as a Divine land-
scape, like the good land of promise, which exists before
we see it, and abides the same, though we were smitten
with moral blindness; a landscape which needs Divine
illumination, that we may gaze on it aright, and discover
all its wonderful beauty.
These four types of moral thought and speculation
are included, by Bentham, as varieties of his Principle of
Caprice. But they are really as wide apart from it as the
north pole from the south. It is their common axiom
that in moral science there is nothing capricious, or de-
pendent on subjective fancies alone, but that it is fixed
and firm in its own nature, like the laws of number and
of space.
• Three other varieties remain, the doctrine of a moral
sense, of common sense, and of a moral understanding.
These dwell mainly on the subjective aspect of moral
truths, or the faculties by which they are perceived, and
the emotions of approval or disapproval, of praise and
blame, which they awaken in the human heart.
The censures of Bentham, so far as they are aimed
against the objective moralists, betray entire forgetfulness
of the first conditions of all genuine science. "We must
believe that there is a God, a Moral Governor of the
universe, before we can enter upon the science of Theo-
logy. We must believe in space-relations, fixed and
definite in their kind, before we can begin the study of
Geometry. We must recognize laws of animal structure,
with definite uses and aims of particular organs, before
there can grow up a science of Physiology. So also the
170
THE PRINCIPLE OF
conception of definite, fixed and abiding moral relations,-
and of things which ought and ought not to be done, is the ■
first condition and needful postulate of all moral science.
Those who insist on this truth merely fulfil the first neces-
sity of all sound and clear ethical reasoning. To charge
them on this ground alone with the perverse design to give
currency, without examination, to some private fancies of
their own on the details of moral duty, is a calumny as
groundless as it is offensive. Now this is what Bentham
has here done, and it forms the main substance of the
passage which Mr Mill unwisely seeks to justify. The
paragraph, for instance, which speaks of "an eternal and
immutable rule of right " alludes evidently to Cudworth's
well-known and learned work. But the remark which
follows, that "he retails to you his own particular senti-
ments, which you are obliged to receive as so many
branches of the eternal rule of right," has no shadow of
real foundation. One main defect of his work is that he
stops short with an unfinished exposition of his main
principle, that morality is based on the very nature of
things, and no mere result of arbitrary will, and does not
enter at all into the development of its actual laws, or the
wide variety of personal, social, and religious duties, which
alone constitute Ethics a practical science.
The strictures of Bentham have more appearance of
truth, when confined to the advocates of a moral sense,
of common sense, and of conscience or the moral under-
standing, as constituting the supreme law of right and
wrong. To this general type of thought, Hutcheson,
Butler, Beid, Adam Smith, Dr Thomas Brown, and many
others, may be referred. This subjective principle, if
carried to its extreme, is too narrow to form a proper basis
for connected reasoning. So long as the reference is
SYMPATHY AND ANTIPATHY. 171
excluded to fixed moral relations, and truths which come
.earlier, or lie deeper, than individual experience, and also
to later results, which flow onward, almost without limit,
from every form of moral activity, the doctrine must con-
tract itself into a mere registration of those emotions of
liking or disliking, of praise or blame, which may succes-
sively arise in each human conscience and heart. It will
thus have no power to distinguish between the most mis-
chievous illusions, and the purest and noblest sentiments
of a purified intelligence, and must wholly fail to supply
the* materials for a genuine science. To fulfil its main
object, it must borrow more or less largely from the ex-
tremes which enclose it on either side. The emotions, from
which it would construct its ethical creed or system, must
involve a reference, more or less distinct, either to laws
and principles of duty that go before, and awaken them,
or else to results that follow after. The starting-point
may be personal experience, and the actual record of
moral emotions of the heart. But before the principle can
rise into the amplitude and dignity of a science, it must
expand and enlarge, till it comes to gaze on a firmament
of moral truth that rises above us, and speaks of a higher
world, or on a wide landscape of moral consequences,
that are spread out around and beneath on every side.
The subjective moralists would be justly condemned,
if they were to propound the direct study and registry of
the moral emotions as the sole basis and main work of
ethical science. The error would be much the same as an
attempt to replace, by the mere study of the human eye,
and its delicate mechanism of vision, the wide range of
geometrical truth, with all the vast superstructure of
SGience which is reared on this foundation. But their
views are just and sound, so far as they assume a careful
172 • THE PRINCIPLE OF
observation of the feelings of the heart, and its emotions
of approval and disapproval, when certain kinds of action
are set before it, to be the proper and needful starting-
point of the whole inquiry. Are these feelings the same
with those of simple hope and fear, or the prospect of
personal gain or loss? Or do they include a higher
element, which no true analysis can resolve into the in-
stinctive desire for pleasure, or prudential reckoning of
gain ? In this case the pretended analysis, which arrives
at such a result, only proves that the knife has done its ■
work too thoroughly, that a corpse has been submitted to
scientific dissection, but that the life is gone. Moral
inquirers do well to be inductive so far, that they must
begin with the question, what is the actual constitution
and experience of the human mind as to moral feelings
and truths. But if their progress is arrested at this point,
it will soon be found impossible to build up what is really
and essentially an ideal science by the mere observation
of actual occurrences alone.
The Morality of Common Sense has its weak and
its strong side. Its weakness consists in the want of
unity, simplicity, symmetry, and ideal grandeur. It
cleaves to what is real and actual, in a science which must
cease to exist, as soon as the contrast between the actual
and the ideal has disappeared from view. In this respect it
bears some resemblance to those early navigators, who
sailed close by headland, islet, and promontory, and feared
to entrust themselves to the wide and trackless ocean by
the help of the compass and the stars alone. For those
stars are often blotted out and hidden by storms and
clouds; and the compass might lead to fatal shipwrecks,
being a strange, ill-understood mystery, and subject to
many unknown causes of variation;
SYMPATHY AND ANTIPATHY. 173
The strength of the doctrine resides in its inductive
character, its tone of modesty and caution. It seeks to
tread on firm ground. It distrusts abstract theories, and
hasty generalizations. It begins by observing the actual
sentiments of mankind, and their usual decisions on all
the great questions of morals, and then seeks to eliminate
from these the more patent causes of error and mutual
divergence. It rests content with secondary moral axioms,
confirmed by the general verdict and assent of men not
wholly ignorant, or enslaved by passion and lust, even
when it fails to trace them, upward and outward, into
some wider and more comprehensive truth. A due re-
gard to the importance of secondary axioms is a mark of
the spirit of genuine induction, and its practical worth
has been proved in every branch of physical inquiry.
But morals are an ideal science. And hence the applica-
tion of the principle needs here especial caution, and can
only be limited and partial in its extent. We should else
he in danger of abandoning the true ideal and standard of
moral excellence, and of exalting the customs, opinions,
and prejudices of each particular class of men, among
whom our lot is cast, into the absolute and proper test of
duty and virtue.
The objective moralists have been wrongly grouped
byBentham, along with the subjective or sentimental,
under his principle of caprice, and thus a charge has
been brought against them, from which, so far as their
main doctrine is concerned, they are wholly free. Mr
Mill commits an error of the opposite kind. He groups
the moralists of emotion and internal feeling, along with
those who appeal to reason and eternal truth, under a
Qommon complaint that they forsake induction, the
method of true and sound philosophy, for mere intuition.
I 7 4 THE PRINCIPLE OF
But the sentimental moralists, in principle, are further
removed from this fault than utilitarians themselves.
Their real danger is rather of an opposite kind. Pro-
fessor Grote, in Ch. XVII. of his " Examination," has made
the following just remarks on this representation of their
views.
"Under the notion of intuitive moral systems, Mr
Mill seems to confuse two entirely different lines of
thought. Of these the sentimental or emotional satisfies
itself with attributing great importance to the subjective
feeling. The other, the school of duty, variously named
according to its various forms, 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. 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 recog-
nizable 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
that which is in accordance with our feelings of kindness,
fairness, and generosity, we enunciate a principle which
is as capable as the utilitarian of being put to the test of
observation "...
" The moralists of last century, who spoke variously
of a moral sense, or a faculty which might be made
matter of psychological observation, all supposed that in
doing this they were following Bacon and Locke, and
setting moral philosophy on an inductive basis, on prin-
ciples of observation, experience and d posteriori reason.
In fact, if setting aside the truth of one or the other-
SYMPATHY AND ANTIPATHY. 175
system, we consider which of the two falls in most with
the idea of going only by experience, I think the advan-
tage lies with the emotional system. No fact of ex-
perience can be more clear, than that man, whenever he
has feelings at all, has feelings of kindness, fairness and
generosity, of moral approval of some things, and con-
demnation of others; and that these feelings, though
endlessly various in the particulars, are in substance the
same for all men, at least to the same extent that happi-
ness is the same for all. Against this fact utilitarianism
sets the consideration, true perhaps, but as compared
with the other, possessing something of an & priori charac-
ter, that people may feel wrongly, and that whatever their
feelings, it is 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 of a principle like this, and then of
deduction from it, can be considered a morality of expe-
rience or observation, as against a morality resting im-
mediately on the experience of human feeling, is what I
cannot understand."
. Mr Mill justifies the strictures of Bentham on the sub-
jective moralists by the following plea. "He did not mean
that people ever asserted that they approved or con-
demned actions only because they felt disposed to do so.
He meant that they do it without asserting it ; that they
find certain feelings in themselves, take for granted that
these feelings are the right ones, and when called on to
say anything in justification produce phrases which mean
nothing but the fact of the approbation and disapproba-
tion itself. A great part of all the ethical reasoning in
books and in the world is of this sort. A feeling is not
proved to be right, and exempted from the necessity of
I 76 THE PRINCIPLE OF
justifying itself because the writer or speaker is not only
conscious of it in himself, but expects to find it in other
people. The most senseless and pernicious feelings can as
easily be raised to the utmost intensity by inculcation, as
hemlock and thistles can be raised to luxuriant growth by
sowing them instead of wheat. Bentham, therefore, did
not judge too severely a kind of ethics, whereby any
implanted sentiment, which is tolerably general, may be
erected into a moral law, binding under penalties on all
mankind... The contest between the morality which ap-
peals to an external standard, and that which grounds
itself on internal conviction, is the contest of progressive
morality against stationary, of reason and argument
against the deification of mere opinion and habit. The
doctrine that the existing order of things is the natural
order is as vicious in morals as in physics, society, and
government."
To justify, then, the strictures of Bentham on the
subjective moralists, a double charge is brought against
them. They are intuitivists, and desert that inductive
method, to which physical science owes all its signal
triumphs. And again, they are prone to adopt and
register the actual moral feelings of mankind, without
submitting them to some higher test, and requiring them
to give account of themselves, and prove their agreement
with the calculations of utility, and the principle that
the greatest collective amount of human happiness is the
only proper aim for each individual of mankind.
Now so far as Moral Science is purely inductive, it
must simply inquire which actions, or classes of actions,
are found by experience to awaken sentiments of moral
approval or blame. It would' be consistent in refusing to
go further, and enter on the later inquiry whether all
SYMPATHY AND ANTIPATHY.
177
the acts so commended by the conscience, do really produce
a maximum of human felicity. Utilitarianism, again, is
so far inductive, that it refers to experience to decide
what things are pleasant or painful, and also in what
cases, or to what extent, pleasure may lead to pain, or
pain to pleasure. But in its main and fundamental
principle, that the Tightness or wrongness of actions is to,
be determined by their tendency to the greatest sum of
pleasures, diminished by the smallest amount of pain,
and' by that alone, it is plainly intuitive first, and then
deductive, and deserts the path of induction altogether.
A moral feeling, Mr Mill remarks, "is not exempted
from the necessity of justifying itself." The doctrine is
true, and; of deep importance. It implies a fundamental
conception, of moral lightness, which partakes of the
character of necessity, and lies deeper than all the indi-
vidual convictions that men may form as to the details of
moral duty. But for this very reason it subverts his
whole defence of Bentham's strictures on the moralists of
Conscience, the Moral Sense, or Common Sense. Their
true fault is not that for which he really condemns them,
their recognition of a final and ultimate principle in
morals, of an intuitive kind. It is that they exalt the
imperfect decisions of individual conscience too high, and
stretch the province of experience and observation beyond
its just limit in an ideal science. For the great question in
morals is not what men do feel, but what they ought to feel.
In its details it must depend largely on materials borrowed
from the actual experiences of human life. But it de-
stroys itself, when it accepts the maxim "whatever is,
is right," or undertakes to canonize and consecrate, as
Divine utterances, all the conflicting views of duty, the
jarring and discordant voices, claiming to be voice of
p. L. 11, 12
I78 THE PRINCIPLE OF SYMPATHY, &e.
conscience, which prevail amongst the multitudes of man-
kind. It may seek to attain tests of right action and
of moral goodness, either from great truths rising ahove
the details of momentary feeling, like stars of the firma-
ment, or from results that flow out, in ever-widenin^
circles, from every action and every agent, like waves
on the surface of a troubled sea. But without some
first principles, no science can possibly be reared. Subjec-
tive moralists, in their dread of abstract theory, and their
greater trust in the instinctive whispers of conscience than
in artificial processes of laborious calculation of results,
may have shrunk too much from those wider generaliza-
tions which are almost essential for scientific progress. But
the charges which Bentham has aimed against them are
due mainly to the superficial and mechanical view which
he has taken of the whole subject of morals. If he had
paused in his sarcastic depreciation of his rivals to look
below the surface, he must have seen that the same
objection really lies against his own theory, that it throws
us back on the inquiry, why we ought to pursue the
maxim of seeking the greatest amount of collective hap-
piness, and that a seeming tautology or repetition, in the
view of careless readers, must be involved in the defi-
nitions and axioms of every genuine science.
LECTUKE VII.
ON MORAL INQUIRY AND CHRISTIAN FAITH.
The relation between honest, inquiry into the foun-
dations, principles, and main outlines of moral truth, and
deep and settled religious convictions, is a subject plainly
of the highest practical importance. Mr Mill maintains
that the two ideas are incompatible, and writes upon- it,
in his review of Dr Whewell's Elements of Morality, in
these words.
"Inasmuch as mental activity of any kind is better
than torpidity, and bad solutions of the great questions of
philosophy are preferable to a lazy ignoring of their exist-
ence, whoever has taken so active a part as Dr Whewell
in this movement may lay claim to considerable merit.
" Unfortunately it is not in the nature of bodies con-
stituted like the English Universities, even when stirred
up into something like mental activity, to send forth
thought of any but one description. There have been
universities which brought together into a body the
most vigorous thinkers and ablest teachers, whatever the
conclusions to which their thinking led them. But in
the English Universities no thought can find place except
that which can reconcile itself with orthodoxy. They
are ecclesiastical institutions; and it is the essence of
12—2
1 80 ON MORAL INQ UIR Y
all churches to vow adherence to a set of opinions made ■
up and prescribed, it matters little whether, three or
thirteen centuries ago. Men will some day. open their
eyes, and perceive how fatal a thing it is that . the in-
struction of those who are intended to be the guides and,
governors of mankind should be confided to persons thus
pledged. If the opinions they were pledged . to were
every one as true as any fact in physical science, and
had been adopted, not as they almost always are, on,
trust and authority, but as the result of the most diligent
examination of which the mind of the recipient is ca-
pable ; even then the engagement under penalties always
to adhere to the opinions once assented to, would de-
bilitate and lame the mind, and unfit it for progress,
still more for assisting the progress of others. The person
who has to think more of what an opinion leads to, than
of what is the evidence of it, cannot be a philosopher, or
a teacher of philosophers. Of what value is the opinion
on any subject, of a man of whom every one knows that
by his profession he must hold that opinion ? And how
can intellectual vigour be fostered by the teaching of
those, who, even as a matter of duty, would rather that
their pupils were weak and orthodox, than stroDg with
freedom of thought ? Whoever thinks that persons thus
tried are fitting depositories of the trust of educating
a people must think that the proper object of intellectual
education is not to strengthen and cultivate the intellect,
but to make sure of its adopting certain conclusions; that,
in short, in the exercise of the thinking faculty, there is
something, either religion, or conservatism, or peace, more
important than truth. When persons, bound by the
vows of an established clergy, enter into the paths of
higher speculation, and endeavour to make a philosophy,
AND CHRISTIAN FAITH. i8r
_i_ . — _ __ , . ,
either purpose or instinct will direct them to the kind of
philosophy best fitted to prop; up th& doctrines to which
they are pledged. And when those doctrines are so : pro-
digiously in arrear of the general progress of thought as
the doctrines of the Church of England now are, the
philosophy, resulting will have a tendency, not to promote,
but to .arrest progress."
The assertions here made, so far as they involve
questions of simple fact, are strangely charged and loaded
with the prejudices of the critic, and depart < widely from
the real truth. The English Universities cannot, without
a wild license in the abuse of terms, be affirmed, to-have
sent forth, on moral subjects, thought of one ■ description
alone. To speak of Cambridge only, there can scarcely
he a wider diversity than between Bacon, Milton, Clarke,
More, Cudworth, Hartley, Eutherford, Waterland, Paley,
Coleridge, Whewell, Grote and Maurice. It may also
well be doubted whether any university, English or
foieign, was ever based on the principle of entire indif-
ference to the creed and teaching of its various professors,
or can have accepted a vague reputation for intellectual
vigour as a higher qualification than the adoption of any
definite faith whatever, either in science or theology. It
is a libel as odious as comprehensive, to say that the
acceptance of the Christian creeds, or at least of the
thirty-nine Articles, is, almost in every instance, the
result of blind trust in authority, and scarcely ever, the
sequel of thoughtful, honest, and sober inquiry. And
this charge comes with the very worst grace from a
Writer, whose early training, according to his own de-
scription, was a carefully devised experiment how a
"youthful mind might be hermetically sealed, as in an
exhausted receiver, against the slightest intrusion of
I§2 ON MORAL INQUIRY
religious truth. Scarcely one Christian student in a
thousand has had orthodoxy imposed on him -with such
jealous care and relentless rigour, as was employed, in
this ease, to shut out all access to religious teaching of any
kind whatever.
It is a further misstatement that religious subscriptions
involve an engagement, under severe penalties, never to
change an opinion once professed. No honest person,
indeed, will consent to be paid for teaching doctrines he
does not believe. So far, then, as endowments are left
for the purpose of securing teachers of a definite system
of religious doctrine, a sacrifice must be involved in such
a change of convictions as unfits for the fulfilment of a
specific trust. If the objection has any weight, it is not
confined to religious endowments, but must extend im-
.partially to trusts and uses of every description. No
provision must be made for transmitting the acquired
knowledge and wisdom of mankind to the coming gene-
ration, lest a selfish interest should be enlisted on the
side of what is already believed. Such a principle, impar-
tially applied, must be fatal alike to nearly all the settled
institutions of society.
Again, the active use of moral faculties is clearly a
duty binding on those who have received them, and are
responsible for their exercise. But whether this activity
is a gain or loss must plainly depend on the direction
it takes, and the forms it may assume. A nation aban-
doned to sloth and moral indolence is no doubt a humbling
and pitiable sight. But it is less odious, and certainly
less dangerous, than a pandemonium of malicious fiends.
Imperfect solutions of moral questions, where truth is
mingled with obscurity and partial error, may be prefer-
able to careless neglect, and a total blank of thought on
AND CHRISTIAN FAITH. 183
the noblest subjects which can occupy the minds of rea-
sonable men. But falsehoods must be mischievous, in
exact proportion to the importance of the subjects in which
those falsehoods are believed. Nothing can be more
opposite to the true lessons of moral science, than to
glorify and extol mental activity, however erroneous in
the principles from which it starts, and the conclusions to
which it leads. An immoral philosophy, and for the
same reason a false philosophy in morals, must be hurtful
and dangerous ; and the danger is only aggravated and
increased by the energy, zeal, and ability, with which it
may be propagated and maintained.
A second question of vital importance lies at the root
of Mr Mill's complaint against the English ^Universities.
Until all religious tests were abolished, he judges them
incapable, by their very constitution, of any genuine cul-
ture of ethical philosophy. To sit wholly loose to every
form of religious faith, and to be willing to cast off every
fixed creed, like worn-out garments, at the shortest
notice, seems to be viewed by him as the first and main con-
dition of moral progress, or of the honest investigation and
■effectual discovery of ethical truth. A startling and pro-
digious assertion, though propounded with a quiet assur-
ance, almost sublime in its audacity, as if it were a nearly
self-evident truth. A doctrine exactly opposite, that the
silent neglect, or open rejection, of religious faith, is the
most fatal of all hindrances to genuine moral progress,
has been the constant and settled creed of all thoughtful
men, who believe in the authority of the Gospel of Christ
as a message divinely revealed. Which of these two
opinions is more agreeable to sound reason and the lessons
of experience ?
The ground of Mr Mill's statement appears to be,-that
1 84 ON MORAL INQUIRY
the first requisite of moral research, in order to be real and
effective, is freedom from prejudice of every kind. The
inquirer must start fair, -with no preconceived opinions or
acquired convictions, in his voyage of moral discovery
His mind should be like a sheet of white paper, prepared
to receive and retain, with equal readiness, whatever im-
pressions may result from its own original and unbiassed
investigations. The answer is very simple. Such a
state of mind is impossible and Utopian. Even if desir-
able, it could not be really attained, and it can
never be proved that it is even desirable. No one
old enough to investigate moral questions at all ever
entered on his task in such a state of absolute equi-
librium between creeds and anti-creeds of every con-
ceivable diversity. The ideal state of strict neutrality is
unattainable. It must involve an absolute suspension of the
thinking faculty, and of all the influences of education,
until the moment when the aspiring neophyte is to enter
on his impartial and profound inquiries. The Auto-
biography shows that few have ever been further removed
than Mr Mill himself from starting in this neutral and
carefully balanced condition. He was trained in his boy-
hood with a discipline almost Spartan in its rigour, under
a father, who exacted a stern monopoly of mental in-
fluence over his son, and whose master passion seems to
have been a rooted aversion to every current form of
religious faith. It is not surprising, then, that a like
aversion to creeds and dogmas of every kind should have
-been inwrought into the texture of his mind, and become
to him a sort of second nature, before the time when his
■ original researches in moral and general philosophy first
began.
All truths of every kind are really helpful to each
AND CHRISTIAN FAITH. 185
other; and false views on any one subject, so far as they
extend, must hinder the growth of true knowledge in
every other field of thought, And this must be emi-
nently true of subjects so conterminous and closely allied
as morality and religious faith. This conclusion results
from the very nature of these fields of thought, and is
wholly independent of a right decision, in detail, either on
the doctrines of religion, or the precepts and lessons of
moral science. Assume that Christianity is untrue, and
even that faith in a personal God is a dream of super-
stition, and it may be freely conceded that early prejudice
in favour of Theism or Christianity must be a hindrance to
sound moral progress, if the idea of such progress be at all
conceivable in a scheme of blind fatalism, in a self-deve-
loped and godless universe. But on the other hand, if
these doctrines are true, they must lie at the root of all
just and clear conceptions with regard to the laws and
principles of moral science. In this case every step of
moral progress must be of two kinds. It must either lead
us nearer and nearer to the Fountain of all goodness, the
Source of all being, and the Standard of all conceivable
perfection, or farther and farther away from that august
Presence ; till the spirit loses itself in an outer darkness,
where the human conscience, amidst countless tokens of
the Divine power and wisdom, is wholly blind to them,
and seeks to banish the living God from the universe
He has made. The question, whether the prevalence of
Christian faitb in our Universities is a help or hindrance
to the pursuit of moral truth, resolves itself plainly into
the earlier and deeper inquiry, Is the Christian creed a
superstitious fiction or a Divine message ? If we assume
the former alternative, the conclusion that it is injurious
to moral inquiry may be admitted by the most devout
1 86 ON MORAL -INQ UIR Y '
Christian to follow naturally from the postulate which has
been assumed. But if the Gospel of Christ be a Divine
message, then to affirm that a public acceptance and pro-
fession of the Christian faith unfits an university for
taking part in moral inquiries with any hope of success, is
worse than an intellectual paradox. It is an affront to the
Divine Author of the message, and a direct aspersion on
His goodness and wisdom. On this view His creatures
ask for bread, and He has given them a stone. They ask
for food, and He gives a serpent. That message, of which
the professed aim and purpose is to aid them in the great
work of moral recovery and progress, is pronounced, by
this dictum of sceptical philosophy, to be a hindrance and
barrier to all progress which really deserves the name.
The objection is presented in another form. No
thought can find place in a Christian University, unless
it contrives first to reconcile itself to orthodoxy. Such an
argument, if we do not assume the falsehood of the re-
ligious faith professed, involves a fallacy of the plainest
kind. For all deep truth is and must be serf-consistent
and harmonious. The genuine acceptance of truth of one
kind must help, and not hinder, the attainment of all
kindred truth. A right faith in God, and a true belief in
the mission of the Son of God, unless there be intestine
war in the kingdom of truth itself, must be the main-
spring and fountainhead of true moral progress. No tree
can grow, unless it "reconciles itself" with the root on
which all its vitality depends. Once let it be proved that
Christianity is a fable and a dream, and it will follow at
once that its acceptance and profession, like that of every
grosser superstition, must be a clog and hindrance to
genuine research and sound philosophy. A mind, weighted
with falsehoods in any one direction, is less fitted for the
AND CHRISTIAN FAITH. 187
discernment of truth in all the rest. So far as a super-
stitious element intrudes into any scheme of doctrine, or
code of belief, the influence on scientific progress must
■be injurious and hurtful. But experience only confirms
the view of all sober Christians, that clear discernment of
■the great laws of moral duty, and the attainment of high
degrees of moral excellence, is a natural fruit of the
growth of religious faith, and of a hearty acceptance of the
great and central truths of the Christian revelation.
Mr Mill, however, carries his advocacy of his principle
Still further, and ventures to state it in the most extreme
■form. Even if the doctrines professed, he says, were
every one as true as any fact in physical science, and
adopted as the result of the most diligent investigation,
still the engagement under penalties always to adhere to
opinions once professed would debilitate and lame the
mind, and unfit it for progress, and still more for assisting
■the progress of others. Of what value on any subject is
the opinion of any man of whom every one knows that by
his profession he must hold that opinion ?
On this view the first requisite for an efficient teacher
in any branch of knowledge is to hold his opinions like a
suit of clothes, which he may change at a moment's
notice, wearing them to-day, and casting them aside to-
morrow. Surely the exact converse is much nearer the
truth. Where everything is held movable and. uncertain,
'there may be room for indefinite loquacity, and the loud
clamour of conflicting sects and parties, either in religion
or philosophy ; but teachers and learners must be on the
same level of real ignorance, and all genuine science,
moral or theological, is still unborn.
When direct penalties have been imposed on the pro-
fession of opinions, supposed to be dangerous or heretical.
•l88 ON MORAL INQUIRY
and they have been treated by religious bigotry as social
crimes, the effect has usually been hurtful, not only to the
cause of honest inquiry, but of true religion. The same
censure is here applied to every case, in which endow-
ments are left for specific objects, and public trusts, fof
purposes of education, are created or accepted under con-
ditions of a religious kind. The objection assumes that
forfeiture of a trust, when a person becomes unable,
through some change of views, conscientiously to fulfil its
known conditions, is really to be looked upon in the same
light, and visits honest conviction with a penalty as a
public crime. But such a view fights against the u»i*
versal laws of Providence, and the very constitution of
human life. Opinions on weighty questions of moral
duty or religious faith can never be free from secondary
consequences, nor exempt from the possibility, either of
temporal benefit, or of a call to heroic self-sacrifice. It
propounds a condition for impartial inquiry, wholly im- 1
possible to be realized, that we shall neither be better nor
worse, in wealth, reputation, comfort, ease, or social
influence, whatever the result of our inquiries may be.
Such a requirement is unreasonable, by whomsoever it
may be made. But it is most strangely inconsistent in
the lips of a leading champion of the utilitarian theory,
For this affirms that moral right and wrong are consti-
tuted by the results of actions, and by these alone. On
this view the moral rightness of true opinions, and the
moral duty of seeking to attain them, depends wholly on
the good .consequences to which they lead. If the forma-
tion of a creed, or the acceptance of a doctrine, be a moral
act at all, it must plainly come under the grand maxim
which forms the basis of the whole theory. How strange,
then, that a champion of utilitarianism, in the outset
AND CHRISTIAN FAITH. l8g
of a laboured defence of the system, should begin by
making entire immunity from temporal benefit or loss
the necessary and inseparable condition of moral progress.
; Truth should be sought first and chiefly for its own
sake. It is the proper food and aliment of the soul of
man. Falsehoods are like poison received into the system,
a shame and degradation to him who believes them. The
outward benefits, which the attainment of truth may
■ bring with it, ought always to have a very secondary
place in the motives that stimulate to research. Such,
in contrast to that simpler utilitarian creed, which makes
right and wrong depend on external and measurable
results alone, is the lesson of sound and true morality.
Mysticism is an opposite extreme. It places the essence
and distinctive mark of virtue in entire self-abnegation,
so that an act is vicious and corrupt, when the agent
is influenced at all by the hope of a personal gain or
benefit. And Mr Mill begins his defence of utilitarianism
by imposing this mysticism, substituted for every religious
doctrine, as a kind of new moral test for our Universities,
and lays it down for the fundamental law of their constitu-
tion, if they are to be really helpful in the progress of
sound, philosophy and ethical science. Truth, he seems
to maintain, cannot be sought sincerely, unless all motives
of a> temporal kind are entirely excluded from the mind
of. the student. A' teacher's opinions are worthless and
\. have no value, unless he is perfectly free to cast them
aside any moment, and still to forfeit no trust, resign
no privilege, and • suffer no social loss whatever by the
change. Utilitarianism, in short, is the only sound and
consistent form of moral philosophy. It is the morality
of progress, while other schools of thought are only
stationary or even retrograde in their character. But
I go ON MORAL INQUIRY
still the first requisite, that a university and its teachers,
may drink in the rays from this bright orb of genuine:
science, is a careful and strict exclusion of every, motive of.
an external or utilitarian kind. Mr Mill seems here to
carry philosophical inconsistency to its farthest extreme.
The acceptance, by teachers, of a public trust, under
weighty and important conditions as to the character and
main substance of their teaching, can have no tendency
whatever in itself to lame and debilitate the mind. Such
conditions are a reasonable and natural pledge for the
care and deliberation with which their convictions have,
been formed, and the social worth and importance of
scientific, moral, or religious truth. "Who can be expected
to bequeath funds, merely that some one or other may
teach something or other, he knows not what, to future
generations 1 Chairs would never have been founded for
teaching a science of astronomy, if the sky had neither
fixed stars, nor planets of settled orbit, and supplied
no materials but meteors of momentary brilliance, that
shoot into light for a moment, and as suddenly disappear.,
These censures of Mr Mill on our English Universities'
for including in their original constitution a definite accept-
ance of Christian faith and doctrine suggest an inquiry
of high importance. Is it the test of perfection, in such
an institution, merely to set a number of persons to
teach, with no pledge and assurance at all as to the
general character of their teaching, and with the sole
condition that they claim for themselves to be able and
vigorous thinkers, or that this claim is made by a circle
of admirers on their behalf? Is it wise and right to
set aside all faith in God, Christ, and immortality, as
mere superfluities in higher education, and to replace
them by faith in some undefined aristocracy of geniuSj
AND CHRISTIAN FAITH.
IQI
and in the superior wisdom of the latest novelties in
science, morality, and religion, compared with all the
thinkers and students of earlier days ? It is possible to
abrogate ,alL religious tests, and to introduce others in
their stead, far inferior in their worth, and practically
ptill more stringent and exclusive. The passive acceptance
of the latest philosophical novelty, and of some vague
theories of human perfectibility and cosmical development,
may then be erected into the main requisite for the
occupation of trusts, which were founded for a very
different and far nobler object by the faith and piety of
.Christian men.
• Again, have weakness and orthodoxy, strength and
heterodoxy, any natural connection? So Mr Mill appears
to assume. The fault he condemns is that of teachers,
who prefer that their students should be weak, but
orthodox, rather than strong with freedom of thought.
Now it is very natural and lawful to insist on the plain
truth, that a claim to the right faith cannot in itself
prove its real possession. The name,, orthodoxy, it is
evident, may often have been widely severed from the
reality, and many opinions may have passed current under
the title in particular times or places, which imply mental
weakness, because the claim has no basis in truth, and is
due to personal self-conceit, or blind trust in human
authority alone. Common sense will teach us that a
confident denunciation of the supposed errors or heresies
of others is no pledge that we ourselves are basking in
the clear sunlight of perfect truth. But Mr Mill has
debarred himself from the use of this distinction and
contrast, however vital and important. To simplify his
indictment, he is content to assume, for the sake of
his argument, that what calls itself orthodoxy has a
ig 2 ON MORAL INQUIRY
just right to the name, and that its doctrines are all
" as true as any fact in physical science." He supposes
further that they have not heen blindly taken on trust,
but received after careful inquiry, and with intelligent
conviction. So the maxim reduces itself to a paradox
of this startling kind, that the acceptance of vital and
important truths on religious subjects disqualifies and
unfits for moral progress, as soon as any outward ad-
vantage is linked with their reception, and that the
adoption of falsehoods in their place, if zealously and
earnestly received, is a better pledge for ability to assist
in the great work of education. Truth in religion, it
would seem, is naturally allied with moral and intellectual
weakness, while error has some strange affinity with moral
progress and intellectual strength. The mind is lamed
and debilitated, if it arrives at the most important truths
after due inquiry and with full conviction, the moment
any public institution gives them a preference over the
opposite falsehoods as qualifications for the teachers whom
it employs, or any public funds are devoted to their
diffusion and propagation. And again, right and wrong
have no existence in themselves ; they are created by
the benefit or loss which flows from any kind of action,
and depend on this alone. But still, to link the reception
of any opinions, by law, with a certain measure of
external privilege, poisons free inquiry at its fountain-
head ; because, in the formation of opinions, it is a
fundamental condition of moral progress, that no social
consequences whatever shall be attached to a right or
wrong judgment. In other words, the good consequences
of actions are what constitute them morally right actions,
but the society which gives any preference to the teaching
of truths over that of the opposite falsehoods, and links
AND CHRISTIAN FAITH.
193
them with the least social gain, renders moral progress
impossible, since entire freedom from the temptation of
associating external advantage with one opinion above
another is the first condition of honest research after
moral truth.
The true relation between religious faith and freedom
of thought is very different. It is only when man ceases
to look on himself as a mere animal, and recognizes that'
Spiritual nature, which makes him capable of worship
and reverence to an unseen Creator, that the moral
elements of his being can obtain their just and full
development. He needs to blossom upwards towards
■the light. And the light which quickens his spiritual
life can proceed only from above.
He is the freeman whom the truth makes free,
And all are slaves beside.
#
That freedom of thought, which consists in turning reso-
lutely away from the Divine presence, and pronouncing
all religious faith to be the dream of ignorant superstition,
will prove, itself, soon or late, to be slavery disguised.
The lower elements of man's nature will prevail over
the higher, the grosser over the purer, when these
have been severed from the secret source and fountain
on which they depend. Sensuality, disguised at first
under philosophical theories, will make destructive in-
roads on the domain of genuine morality; and the pro-
gress which refuses any alliance with Divine revelation
and heavenly truth, will swiftly land its disciples in a
doctrine of blind, dark, and gloomy fatalism. Instead
of the •liberty of Christian holiness, and triumphant faith
in. immortality, their mental home will he "a land of
darkness and the shadow of death, and where the light
Iself is darkness."
B. L. 11. 13
LECTUEE VIIL
MR MILL'S PROOF OF UTILITARIANISM.
Mr Mill begins his attempt to establish and confirm
the Utilitarian view of morals by remarking that, in the
ordinary and popular meaning of the term, proof is im-
possible. " Questions of ultimate ends are not amenable
to direct proof. Whatever can be proved to be good
must be so by being shown to be a means to something
admitted to be good without proof... If, then, it is asserted
that there is a comprehensive formula, including all
things which are in themselves good, and that whatever
else is a good is not so as an end but as a mean, the
formula may be accepted or rejected, but is not a subject
of what is commonly understood by proof." Still, he
remarks, "the subject is within the cognizance of the
rational faculty, and neither does that faculty deal with
it solely in the way of intuition. Considerations may be
presented, capable of determining the intellect either to
give or withhold its assent to the doctrine ; and this is
equivalent to proof."
These remarks, I believe, are substantially true. But
they suggest a natural question, whether there can be
any kind of proof, which belongs neither to demonstration
from principles first assumed, nor to intuition of the first
principles themselves. The true answer seems to be that
intuition is not so simple and spontaneous a process as is
MR MILL'S PROOF OF UTILITARIANISM. 195
often supposed. The mind may need culture and training,
to see first principles clearly, even when they are not
inferences from more fundamental truths. The self"
evidence of which they are the proper subject may be
for exact thought and carefully prepared faculties alone.
Without this preparation, leading to clear definition and
distinct mental vision, these principles are no less liable
to doubt and ambiguity than the consequences which
flow from them when once received. The statement, •
then, seems to need this correction, that the rational
faculty in these cases deals with the subject, not in the
■way of demonstration, nor of spontaneous and immediate
intuition, but of an intuition, for which careful thought,
definition, and meditation must prepare the way.
In the fourth chapter Mr Mill proceeds to give the
proof of the Utilitarian theory, so far as he conceives
proof to be possible, in these words :
"Questions about ends are questions what things are
desirable. 1 The Utilitarian Hbctnn e~ is~that~happiness is
desirable, anaTThe^onlyThing desirable, as an end; all
otherTETfigs" being" only fegrraMs~as" rneana to that end.
What~ought to be requirecT~6f'T;his doctrine7To~maEe
good its claim to be believed ?"
" 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 ; and so of
the other sources of our experience. In like manner, the
gole_jevidejQC_e_.it is possi ble to pr oduce that anything i s
desirable is that people do actually desire it. If the end
whichThe "Utilitarian doctrine proposes~were not, in
theory and in practice, acknowledged to be an end,
nothing could ever convince a person that it was so.
No reason can be given why the gener al happiness ia
13—2
I9 6 MM MILL'S PROOF
desirable, except that each person, so far as he believes it
to be attainableTd eiires his own happiness. TbisTfowever
being a fact, we have not only all the proof which the
pase admits of, but all which it is possible to require, that
h appiness is a good ; th at eac h person's happin ess is. a
good to that person, and the general happiness, lEefefore,
a good to the aggregate of .person's. "HappmessTias made
out its "title as one of"tBe~end'S™oT"conduct and consequently
one of the criteria of morality,"^
/ But the doctrine requires, it may be said, not only
that people should desire happiness, but never desire any-
thing else; while the desire of virtue, though not as
•universal, is as authentic a fact as the desire of happiness,
and still is distinguished from it. To this Mr Mill replies
as follows :
" But does the Utilitarian doctrine deny that people
desire virtue, or maintain that virtue is not a thing to be
desired ? The very reverse. It maintains not only that
virtue is to be desired, but that it is to ImF desired
(bsm_tereste3^,]Tdr Itself. However 'sucE~moralists may
believe that actions and dispositions are only virtuous
because they promote a'nother end than virtue, yet this
being granted, and it having been decided what is
virtuous, they not only place virtue at the very head of
things which are good as means to the ultimate «nd, but
they recognize the possibility of its being, to the in-
dividual, a good in itself, withorit looking to any end
beyond it ; and hold that the mind is not in a right state,
not in the state most conducive to the general happiness,
unless it does love virtue as a thing desirable in itself,
even although in the individual instance it should not
produce those other desirable consequences which it tends
^o produce, and on account of which it is held to be virtue,
OF UTILITARIANISM. 197
This is not in the slightest degree a departure from the
happiness principle. Th e ingredients of happiness are
ver y various, an d each of them is desirable in itself, and
not merely when con sidered as swelling an aggregate.
■Virtue, according to the doctrine, is not naturally and
originally part of the end, but it is capable of becoming so ;
and in those who love it disinterestedly it has become so,
and is desired and cherished not as a means but as a
part of their happiness."
To see clearly the points at issue in this controversy,
we must refer to first principles, or the fundamental con-
ceptions of moral agency, once more. All right action
may be viewed in three distinct, closely related aspects,
its source or fountain , its course, progress, and method,,
and its later, issues. Hence arise three fundamental ideas,
of Virtue, Duty, and Fruitfulness or Utility. Right action,
/considered as Virtue, implies a right, sound, and healthy
condition of the moral agent, the source of the action.
When viewed as Duty, it implies and requires conformity
to fixed and settled conditions of Divine or human law,
and to the voice of conscience within. When viewed in
reference to its consequences, or the issue to which it
leads, it involves some attendant conception of a personal
or social benefit secured, or the fulfilment of some part
of a Divine plan of providence, which has for its wider
aim the good of the intelligent and moral universe. A
just theory of Moral Science requires all these aspects of.
right action to be duly recognized, and seen alike in their
distinctness and their mutual harmony. None of them
can be overlooked, or merged in the others, without re-
sulting in a maimed, one-sided, and imperfect view of the
whole subject.
. The first and main defect of a rigid Utilitarianism is
198 MB MILL'S PROOF
that it dwells, almost exclusively on the third aspect of
moral action alone. The place it assigns to the others is
quite secondary and dependent. But by this partiality it
cuts the ground from under its feet, and imperils the very
existence of a science of morals. If actions have no moral
chara cter at all in themselves, bu t only by an experi-
mental .and observed connecti on with certain benefits or
evils, to which they are see n actually to le ad, then they
stand on the same footing with mere acciden ts, in which
a mora Lcharacter is _ gdmllv absent. The result, on this
view of their nature, must be a certain amount of physical
change, but nothing more. The prolific moral virtue is
gone. A kind action, when divorced from all perception
of kind and benevolent feeling in the agent, can have no
power to awaken gratitude, and call forth kind action in
return. It becomes a source of pleasure, only like that of
the showers of spring or the bright sunshine, when faith-
in Providence is lost, and the course of nature is ascribed
to mere chance or blind fatality alone.
But this main defect of the system is increased by
another of a secondary kind, but also of no slight practical
moment. For Utilitarianism, by the natural force of the
term, suggests a different conception from Eudaimonism,
or the principle which bases morals on the pursuit of
happiness, when the latter assumes its purest form. Phi-
losophers, by artificial definitions, can seldom succeed in
stripping words of their familiar and habitual associations.
Now the general law of thought, in most languages, is that
things are of use, and of use to persons. Objects are use-
ful, when they are means, employed by one who is higher
than the means be employs, and for some end which rises
in dignity above them. Whenever an action is said to be
useful, both the agent and the action are looked upon as
OF UTILITARIANISM. 1 99
subordinated to some further and higher purpose. Thus
a tool is useful to a skilled workman, or food is useful to
satisfy the hunger of a starving man.
Now when virtue i s basedwholly_qn utility, and hap-
piness is also reduced into a mere summation of succes-
sive and momentary pleasures, a plain consequence fol-
lows. Virtue is made the handmaid, subordinate in
; rdignity and honour to pleasures of every kind, being only
another name for those actions and modes of thought,
which are found by experience to avail most in the pro-
duction of pleasure. The picture drawn by the old Epi-
curean philosopher, quoted by Cicero, is thus completely
Verified. Pleasure sits as a queen on her royal throne,
and the Virtues, her docile handmaidens, are grouped in ■
homage around her feet. But if the highest and noblest
kind of pleasure ranks above virtue, as being its object and
.aim, the lower kinds rank far beneath it. The phrase,
utility, then, when adopted for the main definition of right
action, distorts and inverts the true proportion of things.
It tends to foster a habit of thought, in which health of
mind, virtue, holiness, and the noblest emotions of the
redeemed and purified spirit of man, are looked upon as
secondary and subordinate, when compared with bodily
comfort, ease, and pleasure.
But waiving this objection, let us examine Mr Mill's/
proof as one of Eudaimonism, or the d octrine that happi
ness is the end, and the sole end, of all right action. It is
very simple, andif the controversy ot ages can be settled
in this way, we are led to wonder how it could ever have
arisen. The proof that an object is visible is that peopk
actually see it, or that a sound is audible, that people
hear it. So the proof that happiness is desirable is thai
people actually desire it. This is a fact proved by ex-
200 MB MILL'S PROOF
perience. Each person desires his own happiness. There-
fore each person's happiness is the thing desirable for
himself, and the general happiness is desirable, or the
chief good, to the aggregate of all persons.
But here, first, there is an evident fallacy. The de-
sired and the desirable.are not the same . Visible things
are what can be seen, audible sounds what can be heard.
But thin gs dfiskaMe mean evidently, not what can be or
are desir ed, but such as it is either right or wise to desire.
The interval, strangely overlooked in this proof of the
first ground of morals, is nothing less than that wide con-
trast and gulf between the actual and the ideal, what is
and what ought to be, on which the very conception of
morality depends. Professor Grote has noticed this grand
defect in the argument with his usual acumen and sagacity.
"Surely Mr Mill cannot mean," he says, "that the pro-
blem of the summum bonum is solved by laying down, as a
fact of observation, that what men really desire is what is
pleasant to them ...I f by the desirable we mean the ideally
desirable, t hat which is good for man, or makes his weir
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."
That happiness, in the utilitarian sense of the word, is
actually desired, is not, as Mr Mill assumes, a fact proved
by wide experience. It is rather a pure verbal definition.
For the term, in Bentham's theories, simply denotes the
sum total of pleasures, or things actually desired, di-
minished by the attendant pains, or the sensations dis-
liked and avoided. . But such a verbal definition can
never solve the deep and hard problems of ethical science.
The (question must at once arise,— Cannot men be pleased
OF UTILITARIANISM. 201
.1 — . — ■ — —
amiss ? Are there no "vain deluding joys," no pleasures
which have their source in ignorance and folly, and their
issue in bitter disappointment ? Are there here no apples
of Sodom, which attract the eye, but prove only, on ex-
perience of their character and effects, to be bitter ashes ?
jMoral Science would be almost a superfluous study,
except for the sad fact, proved by long and oft-repeated
experience, that men may be pleased with the idlest
follies, or even with the free indulgence of base and hate-
ful passions. A theory of morals, which excludes every
attempt to discern the Tightness and wrongness of plea-
sures, and takes for its basis and mainspring the mere
sensation of being pleased, it matters not why or how, is
like a scheme for building a solid and stately pyramid
• upon loose and floating quicksands.
• There is another fault, no less" vital, in the foundation;
Mr Mill has here laid for the utilitarian theory. A
transition is stealthily made from personal to collective or
general happiness, but in such a way as to vitiate the
whole argument. If the desirable for each one ..is. h is
own happiness, and this _is_ eithexjthjL.dfiiinition -of tha
-teravorelse a fact of universal experience, then another's
Jiappi ness, as such, can be the desirable for no one. And
thus that collective well-being is the true summum
lonum, instead of being established, will rather be dis-
proved. , In replacing individual or personal pleasure by
a far wider conception, the general or collective welfare of
mankind^ we pass from a mere verbal definition of the
desirable, or the experience of what actually is desired,
to an ideal of what we ought to aim at, what it is
humane, or noble, or godlike, to desire. And this is
plainly a distinct and far higher question.
A°ain, Mr Mill admits and affirms that " the mind is
202 MR MILL'S PROOF
not in a right state, unless it loves virtue as a thing desir-
able initself." -But_fcqm this admissio n it resu lts at once
that happiness is notjbhe sole ehTof_alljTghjb_actionr' U
it were so in some conceivable world, yet in a world where
this admission is true the case must be different. There
is owned to be another end rightly pursued for its own
sake, as well as happiness. Mr Mill seeks here to escape
from the low marshes of a pure and naked utilitarianism,
and to rise into higher ground. But he can succeed only
by a kind of logical suicide. The mind, on this view, is
only in a right state, when it forgets the creed of utility,
and fancies something to be desirable for its own sake,
which a more profound philosophy would teach to be pro-
perly desirable only for certain good and pleasant results
to which it leads. The question of Professor Grote is here
appropriate and forcible, — " Is dot 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, on which the initiated may act, while the
ordinary world will best be left to the old delusion of
regard to, and value for, virtue ?"
The paradox, indeed, grows directly out of the first
principle of Bentham's more strict and rigid theory. His
doctrine is that the bare fact or existence of a pleasure,
wholly irrespective of its character, makes it one coequal
factor or element in a sum of pure arithmetic, on the right
computation of which all true morality depends, and that
virtue is defined by the greatest balance and excess of
pleasures over pains, when this summation has been pro-
perly made. "In this matter," he says, "we want no
refinement, no metaphysics. It is not necessary to consult
Plato or Aristotle. Pain and pleasure are what every one
feels to be such, the peasant and the prince, the unlearned
OF UTILITARIANISM. 203
as well as the philosopher." Thus all pleasures of what-
ever kind, if only felt at the moment to be pleasing, must
enter equally and on the same level into the calculation.
And yet they are to enter most unequally, and some of
them are right and others wrong, because it is a more
useful state of mind to be pleased with virtuous than with
vicious actions. For the process of calculation, each mo-
ment of pleasant or painful sensation has to be viewed as
a separate whole, and there is to be a rigid exclusion
of every thought of a deeper kind, beyond the simple fact
that we are either pleased or pained. But experience
and reason, to say nothing of religious faith, throw us back
continually from phenomena to laws, from effects to causes,
from the simple fact of being pleased or displeased to the
inquiry whether the pleasure be wise or foolish, good
or evil, and flows from a sweet or bitter fountain in
the heart.
Mr Mill further explains his theory, and seeks to jus-
tify and confirm it, by what he deems a parallel case.
"What shall we say," he asks, "of the love of money?
There is nothing originally more desirable about money
than any heap of glittering pebbles. Its worth is
Solely that of the things it will buy, or desires for other
things, which it is a means of gratifying. Yet the love of
money is/ not only one of the strongest moving forces
of human life, but in many cases money is desired in and
for itself The desire to possess it is often stronger than
the desire to use it, and goes on increasing, when all the
desires for ends to be compassed by it are falling off. It
may then be said truly that money is desired, not for the
sake of an end, but as a part of the end. From being
a means to happiness, it has come to be a principal ingre-
dient in the conception of happiness. The same may be
204 MR MILL'S PROOF
said of a majority of the great objects of human life;
power for example, or force, except that to these there is a
certain amount of im mediate ple asure attached, which has
the semblance of being naturally inherent in them. In
these cases the means have become a part ofjhe end, and
a more important part than any of the things which they
are means to. What we once desired as an instrument for
attaining happiness ha s come t o be desired for- its-own
sake. In being desired for its own sake, it is however de-
sired as a part of happiness. Virtue, according to the
utilitarian conception, is a good of this description."
It is very strange to lay such stress on an argument,
which is really a decisive refutation of the doctrine it is
meant to prove. Let us allow, in these two cases, their
close resemblance, so far as we deal with psychology and
mental experience alone. Money, fi rst desired for the sake
of what it can procure, may i n course of time be covete d-
for it § own s ake r _when the disposition to make use of it
is wholly gone. Such avarice\may become one of the'
strongest and most deep-roote d/ habits of the mind. The'
miser may then gloat in secret over hoards of unused, and
to him useless treasure. In the same way, according to
Mr Mill's explanation, virtue, first desired for the sake of-
the outward pleasures it buys, may come to be desired for
its own sake. But what shall we say of the moral features-
in the two cases ? Is there resemblance or contrast ? No'
mind, he says, is in a right state, which does not thus-
desire virtue for its own sake. Is it, then, a right state of
mind in the miser to covet the gold for its own sake,'
which he neyer cares to spend, and even dreads the thought
of spending \ Does the Psalmist intend to describe a state
of wisdom or folly, when he says of the worldly man, "He
heapeth up riches, and cannot tell who -shall gather
OF UTILITARIANISM. , 205
them"? Do we not feel at once t hat this love of money ,
as money, when wholly divorc ed from the wish to u se-it,
is a base a nd mischievq us_sup erstitiq n ? In its extreme
form is it not one of the worst delusions, which satirists,
both heathen and Christian, have assailed with keenest
ridicule, and against which divines and moralists have
inveighed in the severest terms of censure and indigna-
tion ? But if the utilitarian creed be correct, why should
jiot the acquired love of Virtue for its own sake, however
conceivable as a fact, be equally worthy of blame, as an
unphilosophical, delusive, and mischievous folly? If the
process be alike in both cases, and they depend on a com-
mon principle, with no moral or fundamental difference,
■yre must either exalt avarice into a sign of moral progress,
pr else denounce the love of Virtue, for its own sake, as a
descent from the heights of calm and wise philosophy
jnto a region of error and sentimental dreams.
But if the two cases are a moral contrast, wide apart,
■on what does the contrast depend ? On the principles of
utilitarian philosophy, pure and simple, as expounded in
Bentham's works, it admits of no explanation. The men-
tal process may be clearly stated, and the outward resem-
blance be real and important. But the inference will be
that the d isintere sj&Liffl re of virtu e, and the passion of
avarice, in the eyes of enlightened philosophy, are two
kindred foilies, though one may repel us with the ugly
features of a fiend, and the other have all the seeming
attractiveness and beauty of an angel of light.
The supposed proof of the utilitarian ground of all
morality is carried further, and stated in another form, at
the close of the chapter, in these words :
: 'y^*%i is by associating the doing right with pleasure, or
Hhe doing wrong with pain, or by eliciting and bringing
I*
206 MR MILL'S PROOF
home to the person's experience the pleasure naturally in-
volved in the one, or the pain in the other, that it is pos-
sible to call forth that will to be virtuous, which, when
confirmed, acts without any thought either of pleasure or
pain. Will is the child of desire , and passes out of the
dominion of. its parent, only to come under th at of habit .
That which is the result of habit affords no presumption of
being intrinsically good, and there would be no reason for
wishing that the purpose of virtue should become inde-
pendent of pleasure and pain, were it not that the influ-
ence of the pleasurable and painful associations which
prompt to virtue is not sufficiently to be depended upon
for unerring constancy of action, until it has acquired the
support of habit. Both in habit and in ro^rl net, habit is the
only thing wWh inipfytiR ^prtaiTiiy, and it is because of
the importance to others of being able to rely absolutely
on one's feelings and conduct, and to oneself of being able
to rely on one's own, that the will jto ^Qjr^ghtjught to be
cultivated into this habit ancTTJidependence. In other
words, this state_o f the will is a means to go od, notjntrin*
sically a good ; and does not contradict the doctrine that
nothing is a good to human beings, but in so far as it is
either itself pleasurable, or a fneaUs of attaining pleasure, or
averting pain. But if this doctrine be true, the principle
of utility is proved."
It is not easy, in this passage, to see the exact drift
of the argument, or what form of the doctrine of utility
Mr Mill endeavours to prove, and thinks that he has
proved. That happiness, in the popular sense, denotes
the sum of all things conceived as desirable or pleasant,
so far as these are attainable, and disturbed as little as
possible, by things unpleasant or painful, is rather a
truism or verbal definition, than the badge of any special
OF UTILITARIANISM. 207
school in morals. The doctrine of utility, unless words
axe to be warped from their natural sense, means that
actions, h ave no inherent goodness or_ba dness, for w hich'
it is right and just to be ple ased or displeased with theraf
buTarTrhoJally right or wrong because of the excesyof
pleasure or pain in the results to which they lead^ It
is an abuse of terms to include in our view a pleasure
pr delight inherent in the action itself, when felt to be
good and right, and still to affirm that actions are good,
purely and exclusively, because of their usefulness, or the
pleasant results that follow. How, then, can this doctrine
be reconciled with a theory which admits the Tightness
and excellence of disinterested virtue ? The steps of
, transition are these. First, the pleasures by which moral
virtue and vice are defined are conceived as being
those outward or later consequences alone, which are
capable of being foreseen by resemblance to past actions
of which there has already been experience. In this way
certain classes of action, by a kind of first approximation,
may be reckoned good or evil. Hexi, since this good
or evil character depends on collective, not on personal
pleasure, men need to have their wills trained, so as to
take delight in doing virtuous acts, and thus to form the
habit of virtue. Thirdly, this habit may be so formed,
by proper culture, as that men come to delight in acts
conceived to be good and virtuous, with no actual reference
in their thoughts to the pleasant consequences likely to
flow from them, either to themselves or others. It is even
desirable that this habit of forgetfulness should be formed,
^because it is a more powerful and steady principle of
action than any series of calculations of probable results
could be. And this neglect of consequences in the growth
Jof virtuous habits is a right state of mind, because it
208 MR MILL'S PROOF
leads to good consequences which could hardly be ex-
pected, if doing right depended, on each occasion, on a
momentary impulse of kindness alone. The pleasure of
doing .right, in this case becomes one part of human
happiness, and is rightly included in "fne utilitarian pro-
cess of calculation.
This view, when we look into it closely, will be found
to involve two fundamental contradictions. In the first
stage of thought the_ sequent__ pleasu r£ s. and pains are
treated as all-important, so that the subjectisE^fjgelings
of the agea-t, may bff^ntirelvneglected, andjicjions classed
as good or evil, better or worse, by a due consideration of
the benefit or injury th^y_wiUkad_to^or maybe-expected
to lead to, in the "case of society at large. Not only
these sequent pleasures and pains" are viewed as fixed,
certain, and measurable, but it is made a duty to mould
the personal feelings into habitual agreement with the
conclusions to which a due and correct estimate of them
must lead. But when the last stage of the process is
reached, we are then taught that these pleasures of
habitual virtue are one main part of the happiness which
is the basis of the whole theory. So that men are to
be trained to be pleased with what is right, but the
definition of right is to be drawn from the corrected sum
total of sequent and inherent pleasures, including these
results of highly important previous training. Virtue is
thus made, by a kind of paradox, to sit on its own knees,
and to be a child of those pleasures, of which one part,
and not the leas^ important, is the pleasure of doing what
is right for its own sake.
And here is a second contradiction, no less vital than
the first, and fatal to the argument. The definition of
vbtuous>ctiens, by the doctrine of utility, is the overplus
OF UTILITARIANISM. 209
or excess of pleasures in the results to -which they lead.
Yet Mr Mill says that it is quite consistent with this
.doctrine, to hold that men may learn by habit to be
pleased_wit h doing rig ht, -without any thought of conse-
quencesTand that it is highly useful that such a state of
mind should be attained. But this is really to grasp at a
shadow, and lose the substance. If the p .ssF-nn.A nf virtue,
in theCajJLsons ists in its p l easurable resu lts, then the
essence of habitual virtue, in the ^gerTj;, must consist in the
constant and intelligent aim at such results; and wher-
ever this aim is wanting, there can be no virtue, but a
shadowy counterfeit alone. To do acts which are followed
by pleasant and good results is not virtuous, when the
connection is casual, not moral, and there was no wish;
aim, or purpose that these results 'should follow. The
habits, then, described by Mr Mill, if we accept his first
principle, are no more to be called virtuous than the
passion of the miser, when he learns to prize money for
itself, and has forgotten to value it for its uses alone.
Once admit the exclusive truth and sufficiency of the
utilitarian creed, and the formation of such habits must
involve the decay and extinction of that which alone
deserves the name of virtue. It will substitute in its
place the empire of some morally worthless routine of
, action, like rivers that lose themselves in desert sands,
and wholly disappear.
js^On the other hand, if actions are not good merely
■because of their consequences, but good consequences
follow on them because they are good and right in them-
: selveS, as children that resemble their parents, and are
known by the likeness, then the process Mr Mill describes
and commends may be a real moral ascent and upward
progress. Men may then become more virtuous, when
I B.L. II. 14
2IO MR MILL'S PROOF OF UTILITARIANISM.
they learn to think less of those outward results, which
alone they can measure or anticipate from their limited
experience of the past, and see more and more, in all
right action, something desirable, mainly and in the first
place, for its own sake, and only in the second place for
those outward results which are reasonably expected to
follow, which bear the impress of its character, and reflect
its image. The mind may begin by dwelling first in
thought on these rivulets. But it rises in moral dignity,
when it turns from these to the fountain-head, out of
which they flow. It thus becomes virtuous, in the best
and highest sense, when it sees its chief good in the attain-
ment of moral excellence as man's noblest possession, and
aims directly and earnestly at the fulfilment of that
Divine precept of the Gospel, — '• Be ye perfect, as your
Father in heaven is perfect."
LECTUEE IX.
THE TEUE DEFINITION OF UTILITARIANISM.
The supposed proof of Utilitarianism, in Mr Mill's fourth
chapter, has three great defects. It confounds the actually
desired with the desirable, or the proper and reasonable
object of human desire, a contrast which lies at the root
of all theoretical and practical morality. It mistakes a
verbal definition of happiness for a, lab orious product a nd
conclusion of numan experience. And it strives to re-
. concile with the ut'ilitarian principle a doctrine to which
-it forms an essential contrast ; that is, the merit and
excellence of disinterested virtue, when noble acts are
done for their own sake, or by force of habit, without
any regard whatever to the pleasurable consequences that
may usually follow.
The definition of the doctrine, "what utilitarianism is,"
in the second chapter, scarcely answers to its title. It is
merely a reply to objections, very opposite in character,
which have been often urged against it, and as Mr Mill
conceives, without reason, from an imperfect knowledge
of the theory opposed. He seems to imagine that they
are all aimed, and some of them -with signal inconsistency,
against the modified theory which he defends. But in
reality they apply to distinct, and by no means harmonious
varieties of the same general doctrine. And the defence is
Carried on by renouncing the main features of the Deon-
14—2
212 THE TRUE DEFINITION
tology, and adopting an eclectic theory, called by Professor
Grote, Neo-Utilitarianism, but to which it may be doubted
whether the title, Utilitarianism, in any true and proper
sense belongs. It consists mainly in these statements or
admissions; that Epicureanism is faulty and imperfect, and
needs the introduction of Stoic and Christian elements;
that pleasures differ in quality no less than quantity, and
are ' of a lower and a higher kind ; that the happiness,
which is the proper standard of right action, is not selfish
or personal, but the general and collective welfare of man-
kind ; that, on the hypothesis of the Divine benevolence,
this ethical theory is not godless, but more profoundly
religious than any other ; and that, instead of resting on
new calculations to be made from hour to hour, it properly
includes and utilizes all the secondary axioms of morals,
current in society, which only embody and condense the
lessons of experience through long ages of mankind.
Mr Mill's definition is in these words. "The creed
which accepts as the foundation of Morals, Utility, or the
Greatest jjappxaess Principle, holds that actions are right
in proportion as they tend to promote happiness, wrong
as they tend to produce the reverse of happiness. By
happiness is intended pleasure, and the absence of pain;
by unhappiness, pain, and the prevention of pleasure...
Supplementary explanations do. not affect the theory of
life, on which this theory of morality is grounded, that
pleasure, and freedom from pain, are the only things
desirable as ends ; and that all desirable things are
desirable, either for the pleasure inherent in themselves,
or as means to the promotion of pleasure and the pre-
vention of pain."
Here the three terms, Utility, Pleasure, Happiness,
in their common relation to the theory of morals, are
OF UTILITARIANISM. 213
assumed to be equivalent, or various modes of expressing
one and the s ame princ iple. But this I believe to be an
error, tending to mental confusion. The morality of
c onsequences , which might be conveniently styled, Apo-
batic Morality, has three varieties, distinct, though nearly
allied, as Utility, Pleasure, or Happiness, is made the key-
note or ■watch-word of the system. The first gives birth
to Utilitarianism proper, of which Bentham is perhaps
the most exact representative. The second leads to
Hedonics, or the old Epicureanism, and ite modern
varieties. The third is Eudaimonics, the doctrine of
Aristotle, at least in one part of his Ethics, and which
only needs due explanation and limitation, to become
one main element in a true and comprehensive theory
of moral feeling and action. >
The experience of Bentham himself, with regard to
the impression made by the leading phrase he assumed,
is very instructive. For many years he continued to
use the word, utility, as the definition of his main
theory. But he found afterwards, as we are told in
the Deontology, that the effect, even on some persons
of highly educated mind, was to create a prejudice wholly
unfounded, as if his doctrine excluded pleasure and en-
joyment, and thought of definite uses alone. From that
time he almost discontinued the phrase, utility, and re-
placed it by Dr Priestley's formula, "the greatest happiness
of the greatest number." Even this, at a still later period,
seemed to him ambiguous, and open to misconstruction,
as if a minority were to be overlooked, and respect paid
to the welfare of the major part alone. He then intro-
duced finally, as the defining phrase of his system, "the
greatest happiness on the whole.''
Let us now enter on the double inquiry, what is the
214 THE TRUE DEFINITION
proper and distinctive meaning of Utilitarianism in morals,
and how far the modified scheme of Mr Mill's treatise has
a rjisfclaim to the title which he still chooses to retain.
>/ No action can be morally good and right which is
wholly aimless. And the aim, in every act of a reason-
able moral agent, .must be the attainment of some .end,
conceived, either rightly or wrongly, to be good and
desirable by him who seeks to attain it. Every theory
of morals must include a reference to consequences to
this extent. Exclude wholly the notion of aiming at
something that is good in some sense or other, and
pleases in some way or other, and the conception of
reasonable action disappears. Apobatic Morality, then,
in contrast to rival systems, cannot be defined by in^
eluding merely some reference to results, desired or ex^
pected to follow, in its estimate of right and wrong
action. Its essence is the denial of any moral contrast
in the actions themselves, apart from actual experience,
in similar cases, of pleasant or painful results that have
followed, and may thus be expected under like conditions.
Its main feature is to transfer our thoughts . from the
inward character of the will,, aim, or desire, in the agent
himself, from the state of the heart, or moral disposition,
and to fasten them on the outward benefits or injuries, to
which the action may lead, in those who are the patients
or objects of the activity, and on which alone its Tightness
or wrongness is supposed to depend.
The doctrine, in proper and genuine Utilitarianism,
must take this form, that utility is fhe sole parent, test,
and standard of all virtue. \ /Actions are good and right,
because they are useful. They are wrong, because they
are useless or mischievous. And here we are bound to
take the word, useful, as. Bentham enjoins in the case
OF UTILITARIANISM. 215
of pleasure, in its popular and usual sense. The state-
ment that actions are useful has not the same meaning
as to say that they are pleasa nt, or that they ar e kind ^
and hejievQl£n±r — -Each phrase conveys a different idea.
In the first case, our thoughts are fixed on some out-
ward results, more lasting than momentary sensations of
pleasure, whether of the agent, or the objects of his
action. In the second, they rest on the sensations of
delight and pleasure, usually transient, which either ac-
company the action, as one inherent element, or follow
after. In the third, our thoughts are turned to the in-
ward feelings and motives of the benevolent person. And
again, when happiness is taken for the watch-word, instead
of transient, momentary pleasure, we think rather of
those settled sources of comfort and felicity, which de-
pend in part on acquired habits of body and mind, but
also on the arrangements of providence, and all the out-
ward and variable conditions of human life.
Utilitarianism, when the term retains its proper sense,
has one main defect, which it shares with the other
.forms of Apobatic Morals. It dwells on the third as-
pect of moral action, the results to which it leads, to
the exclusion of two others, equally essential, and more
fundamental, the fountain from which it must proceed,
and the channel through which it must flow. There is
a standard of Divine perfection and essential right, which
must go before. There is a standard of conscience, and
internal subjective harmony with the condition and powers
of the morai agent, which must accompany and guide the
action ; and there is a standard of providential guidance,
by which the action, in its results, is carried into and
absorbed in, a grand, mysterious scheme of the destinies
of the universe. ■ And it is the fault of the morality of
2l6 THE TRUE DEFINITION
consequences, in all its varieties, that it dwells on the last
of these, and usually on a very limited view of it, to the
exclusion of the others, which are equally essential to a
just and comprehensive view of the whole subject.
But besides this defect, common to the three varieties .
of the main doctrine, Utilitarianism has two others peculiar
to itself. And first, it excludes from our view the pleasure,
inherent in right and healthy activity, or the direct en*
joyment of the moral agent in the action itself. We
do not say that exercise is useful, because it is pleasant
to a child to walk or to run, or that a landscape is
useful, because there is a delight to the eyes in gazing
on a lovely prospect, or that a kind action is useful,
because a benevolent mind has keen delight in relieving
distress, and exercising kindness. When utility is as-
sumed for the master principle of all morality, one of
two alternatives must be chosen. "We must either omit
and set siside from our theory all respect to the pleasure
which inheres in every kind of right and healthy activity,
the free, spontaneous life of the soul, or else include it
by a plain abuse of terms ; which will infallibly lead .
to confusion of thought, awakening natural prejudice in
opponents, who assume words to be used in their proper
sense; and to artificial and laboured defences, when
phrases are expounded in an esoteric sense, to save the
credit of the system when assailed, and rebound to their
natural meaning, as soon as the pressure is removed.
In the next place, the consequences to which the
term utility properly applies are extraneous and external,
not intrinsic, essential, and inherent. They mean usually
those which are induced by some foreign cause, or the
conspiring result of several such causes, and not the
simple product of the action, taken alone. An apple-tree,
OF UTILITARIANISM. 217
or a vine is fruitful, because of the apples or grapes which
are found on its branches, the produce of its life, the
fruit it directly yields. It is useful, because these fruits
may be afterward applied to some beneficial purpose by
the purchaser or the owner. The apples may be manu-
factured into cider, or used for desserts, and the grapes
be used as raisins, or turned into wine. An estate is
beautiful because of its trees and flowers, its hills and
valleys, and all that is adapted to please the eye and
charm the senses of the beholder. It is useful, because
of the rent it provides for its owner, or the produce which
it yields for the markets of the land.
Again, utility, from the natural force of the term,
views the action and the agent as alike subordinate to
the outward results that follow. A thing is used, pas-
sively, by some power or person, higher than itself. The
clay is useful in the hands of the potter, the gold in
the hands of the goldsmith, the simples and drugs of
the apothecary, when applied under the instructions of
a skilled physician. And when we extend the term
from things to persons, this idea of subordination still
remains. Thus a clerk is useful in a house of business,
a servant in a domestic household, and policemen in
a time of a public procession or festivity. We do not
usually apply the term to the philanthropist, the man
of science, the statesman, the general of an army, or
the princes and rulers of a powerful state. And when
we speak of one person as using another for some object
of his own, there is commonly implied some degree of
moral anomaly and degradation. Or again, we may
speak of the eloquence of a statesman as a gift very
useful to him in his office; but we should shock the
.general conscience, if we were to speak of honesty and
2 1 8 THE TR UE DEFINITION
uprightness as a very useful quality to the rulers of the
land.
These clear facts with regard to the natural and
proper sense of the term, useful, explain, and partly
justify, the first objection to which Mr Mill alludes, and
which he dismisses with great contempt. He speaks of
the "ignorant blunder" of supposing that those who stand
up for utility as the test of right and wrong use the
term "in that restricted and colloquial sense, in which
utility is opposed to pleasure." Philosophers, however,
cannot break down the old landmarks of human speech,
and wholly change the significance of words, which are
in constant and familiar use, by arbitrary and esoteric
changes of their meaning. It is not in loose talk alone,
but in strictness of speech, and by the laws of etymology,
which link it with a large class of kindred words, and
which prevail alike in most languages, that utility is
distinguished from pleasure, and stands to it in partial
opposition. The words of Horace
Omne tulit punctum, qui miscuit utile dulci,
show how marked and definite the antithesis was felt
to be, long ages ago. Hedonics, or the theory which
enthrones pleasure, and Utilitarianism, the doctrine which
bases the right wholly on the useful, may be variously
combined, and overlap each other. But alike in concep-
tion and in phrase they are naturally distinct. Pleasure
relates directly to the present, utility to an expected
future. One deals more with emotion and feeling, the
other with calculation. One has its source and spring
in present instinct and appetite, the other includes a wider
range of collateral and external results, that may form
the subject of foresight and prudential calculation. The
OF UTILITARIANISM, 219
two complaints, then, are not inconsistent, as Mr Mill
conceives, when referred to their proper and respective
objects. A theory of morals, based wholly on the con-
sideration of what is pleasant, may be "too practically
voluptuous," and one which rests strictly and solely on
utility, may be censured, with equal truth and entire
consistency, as " impracticably dry."
The scheme of Bentham, though he uses all the three
phrases in turn, is still predominantly utilitarian. His
pleasures enter only as the data in a problem of calcula-
tion. His main object is "to find the processes of a
moral arithmetic by which uniform results may be arrived
at." A pleasure, as a pleasure, is a momentary and
transient thing. ' It exists only in the moment of en-
joyment. But the pleasures of Bentham's theory are
the counters in a vast sum of addition. The leading
inquiry in his whole system is not, Does an action please \
but to what results does it lead, to what future uses can
it be applied? And against such a scheme of morals,
which attempts in theory to resolve the morality of all
actions into the solution of so many sums of addition,
the complaint that it is hard, cold, mechanical, and in-
practicably dry, seems to apply with perfect truth.
Mr Mill struggles to escape from these defects of the-
master whom he admires, but whose incomplete thinking
and limited experience he is quite willing to allow. His
theory of morals is more elastic and comprehensive. But/
can it with truth be styled utilitarian ? In reality he
reverses and sets aside all those three features, on which
the suitableness of the name depends.
And first, the delight which inheres in actions them-
selves is never included, when we speak of them as useful.
It is pleasant to see, to hear, to converse, to exercise the
2 26 THE TRUE DEFINITION
various gifts of a healthy body and a well instructed mind.
But we do not refer to this pleasure at all, when such and
such actions are pronounced useful. The term relates to
later consequences alone. Those who desire virtue for its
own sake, Mr Mill observes, " desire it either because the
consciousness of it is a pleasure, or because the conscious-
ness of being without it is a pain, or for both reasons
united." To such pleasure, however, involved in right
action itself as approved by the conscience, the name 1
of utility does not apply. It belongs only to those out-
ward and secondary results of a desirable and pleasant
nature, which usually follow, soon or late, on upright
and virtuous conduct. In his view of the true principles
of morals, Mr Mill includes direct and inherent, no less
than sequent pleasures, and thereby departs from the
correct and proper sense of the phrase, that virtue depends
on utility alone.
Again, the results, to which the name of utility be-
longs, are always of a secondary and external kind. A
key is useful because it opens a door, or unlocks a cabinet ;
a horse, because it is used in farm labour, or in drawing
a carriage ; and a servant, because he performs certain
offices that are for the comfort of the household. But we
should never say that a key is useful, because it is a
pleasure to discern the skill and beauty of the workman-
ship ; or the horse, because it is a worthy study for the
naturalist, and fills up the harmonious system of animal
life ; or a servant, because we have pleasure in his dili-
gence, or admire his docility, uprightness, intelligence, and
fidelity to his trust. Mr Mill however, assigns a chief
place in his system to pleasures of this higher kind. He
recognizes a difference of quality no less than quantity,
and those which he places highest in the scale are of a
OF UTILITARIANISM. 221
class to which the description of being "useful results" can
| hardly apply without extreme violence. "In estimating
the consequences of actions," he says^" there are always
two sets of considerations involved ; the consequences to
the outward interests of the parties, and the consequences
to the characters of the same persons, and their outward
interests as dependent on their characters. In the esti-
mation of the first there is not in general much difficulty.
But it often happens that an essential part of the morality
or immorality of an action or rule of action consists in its
influence upon the agent's own mind." Now effects of
this kind do not usually or naturally come under the
title, which is the basis of the system. When we say that
the gift of alms to some one in distress is useful, we refer
to the outward want, the need of food, or clothing, or
fire, which it meets and supplies, and not to the higher
object, that it awakens feelings of gratitude, or helps to
form a habit of kindness and benevolence. This inclusion
of higher results, which belong to the moral features of
right action, and not to its physical aspect, is a further
desertion of the proper sense of the doctrine, which bases
_ moral s onjisefulness alone.
Some reference, then, to good results aimed at, if not
attained, desired and sought, if not actually realized, is
essential to the idea of moral activity, and must enter, in
one form or other, into every moral system, that seeks
honestly to define and solve the great problems of ethical
science. But a doctrine of pure utility, to deserve and
justify the name, must define the goodness of actions
neither by their conformity to a fixed standard of right,
nor by the joy and dignity which springs from that
| harmony, when perceived, nor by agreement with the
" inward voice of conscience, nor the pleasure of self-
222 THE TRUE DEFINITION, &c.
approval, nor by consequences strictly moral, which grow
out of a prior perception of moral features in the agent,
whereby he acts on the character of those around him
for good or evil. It must define it by the outward
benefits which follow the act, distinct alike from the joy
of life, the pleasure of healthy action for its own sake, and
from the higher moral results, wherein like produces like,
vice breeds vice, and kindness and affection produce kind-
ness and gratitude in return. But all these contrasts and
limitations have either disappeared, or seem ready to
disappear, in Mr Mill's modified form of the utilitarian
theory. The social element of the Stoics, the philan-
thropy, though not the piety, of the New Testament,
are so far ingrafted on the stock of the old Epicurean or
the modern Benthamite morality, as to change the aspect
and form of the whole system. The hard, rigid, cold and
mechanical features of the doctrine of utility, when the
term is employed in its strict and proper sense, are
seen no longer. Instead of a scheme attractive by its
logical simplicity, but repulsive as a skeleton without life
or feeling, we have an imperfect junction of discordant
elements. The modified Utilitarianism, which Mr Mill
would substitute for the incomplete thinking of his master
represents only the unfinished journey of a Lapland philo-
sopher, born amidst Arctic frost and snow, and travelling
southward unawares, towards warmer and more sunny
regions, where fields are green, and skies are bright, and
nature rejoices in light, warmth, and sunshine once more.
LECTUKE X.
PLEASURE, HAPPINESS, AND WELL-BEING.
Utility, Pleasure, and Happiness, are treated by Mr Mill
as equivalent terms, or the common basis of a Theory
of Morals, based solely on the consequences of actions,
and styled Utilitarian. The doctrine of Utility is said to
be the Greatest Happiness principle, and Happiness is
defined by t he total of attainable p l easure, with ft-p.p-
dom^jis far as po ssible, fro m attpnrl a.nt..p ajn. Yet these
words, it cannot be doubted, are in some respects logical
opposites, and awaken in our minds very distinct ideas.
The charge, for instance, of being "practically volup-
tuous" would never be brought against pure utilitari-
anism : nor that of being " impracticably dry," or " hard,
cold and mechanical," against the Epicurean view of life,
in which Pleasure is the queen, and the virtues only the
maidens which do her homage. Happiness, again, and
still more the Greek evSai/xovia, introduces a third class of
associations ; more various and comprehensive, more sub-
jective and internal than those of Utility, more permanent
than those of simple Pleasure, and which include some
.reference to man's dependence on external accidents, or on
the secret arrangements of some divine power, higher than
the human will.
The doctrine which bases morality upon pleasure, the
.creed of Epicurus and his followers, is defended by Mr
Mill, side by side with an admission of its defectiveness in
certain details, in these words :
224 PLEASURE, HAPPINESS,
" The comparison of the Epicurean life with that of
beasts is felt as degrading, precisely because a beast's plea-
sures do not satisfy a human being's conception of happi-
ness. Human beings nave faculties more elevated than
the animal appetites, and "when once made conscious of
them, do not regard any thing as happiness which does
not include their gratification There is no known Epi-
curean theory of life which does not assign to the pleasures
of the intellect, of the feelings and imagination, and of the
moral sentiments, a much higher value as pleasures than
to those of mere sensation. It must be owned, however,
that utilitarian writers in general have placed the supe-
riority of mental over bodily pleasures chiefly in the
greater permanency, safety, uncostliness of the former, in
their circumstantial advantages rather than in their in-
trinsic nature. And in all these points they have fully
proved their case ; but they migbt have taken the other,
and as it may be called, the bigher ground, with perfect
consistency. It is quite compatible with the principle of
utility, to recognize the fact that some kinds of pleasures
are more desirable and valuable than others."
The doctrine of utility, as held by Bentham, consists
mainly in the introduction of a new moral arithmetic, de-
pending on a correct addition of pleasures. To such a
process it is essential that the pleasures be conceived as
being alike in kind, and differing in quantity and in
continuance alone. When this view of them is abandoned,
as Mr Mill has done, the arithmetic becomes impracticable,
and the system founded upon it must come to an end.
Is the defence more successful with regard to Epicurus
than Bentham? It consists in exposing what Mr Mill
considers a careless misconception of the Epicurean philo-:
sophy. Now Cicero had certainly tenfold opportunity,
AND WELL-BEING. 225
compared with Mr Mill, of knowing the system, which he
heard expounded at Athens by the ablest living philoso-
phers of that school, and of which his friend Atticus was
an adherent. Yet he mentions (Be Finibus, 1. 7) the view
expounded by Mr Mill, as a frequent and popular miscon^
ception of the Epicurean philosophy, and even as a mis-
conception into which no one who had really learned and
•'studied it could possibly fall. He writes on it as follows :
:,,; ■ " Quid tibi, Torquate ? quid huic Triario literae, quid
l-Mstoriae cognitioque rerum, quid poetarum evolutio, quid
tanta tot versuum memoria voluptatis adfert ? Nee mihi
illud dixeris, — Haec enim ipsa mihi sunt voluptati, et erant
ista Torquatis. Nunquam hoc ita defendit Epicurus ; ne-
que vero tu, Triari, aut quisquam eorum, qui aut saperet
aliquid, aut ista didicisset. Et, quod quaeritur saepe, cur
tarn multi sint Epicurei; sunt aliae quoque causae, sed
imultitudinem. hoc maxime allicit, quod ita putat dici ab
illo, recta et honesta quae sint, ea facere per se laetitiam,
id est, voluptatem. Homines optimi non intelligunt,
totam rationem everti, si ita se res habeat ; nam si eoncede-
retur, etiam si ad corpus nihil referatur, ista sua sponte
et per se esse jucunda, per se esset virtus et cognitio
rerum, quod minime ille vult, expetenda."
The Greek word, ^Sovij, and the Latin, voluptas, seem
to correspond strictly to each other. They refer alike to
■ the sensation of sweetness, or outward and animal enjoy-
ment, though they are capable of extension, by analogy
and resemblance, to pleasures of a higher kind. But it was
the doctrine of Epicurus that these animal pleasures were
> the only original and fundamental objects of desire, that
"the direct pleasure, thus accessible, was increased by the
*" memory of the past and expectation of the future ; and
that virtue, justice, friendship, were simply means by
B.L. II. 15
226 PLEASURE, HAPPINESS,
■which the wise and prudent might increase the amount of
these sensible pleasures, or at least might, obtain an
equivalent, by freeing themselves from the pain of unsatis-
fied desires. Herein consists the force and emphasis of the
picture, which Cleanthes, the Epicurean philosopher, was
accustomed to give to his disciples. "He instructed his
audience to imagine to themselves- Pleasure, as portrayed
in some picture, with beautiful robes, and royal ornaments,
seated on a throne ; and before her the Virtues, as little
maidens, who should do nothing else, and claim no other
office than waiting on Pleasure, and only whisper in her
ear, if that could be shewn in painting, to do nothing
rashly, which might offend the minds of men, and out
of which any pain might arise. For we Virtues are born
to do thee service, and we have no other office than this
alone."
The word pleasure, in English, is less limited in mean-
ing. It applies almost equally to mind or body, and gives
prominence to subjective feeling, whatever its source or
object may be. It includes what might be expressed in
Greek by three distinct terms, rjSovr), ir66o<;, and evBoicla,
passive sensations as of sweetness or pleasant food, the
pleasure in the forthgoing of active desire after any object,
and complacent rest and satisfaction in good contemplated
or attained. The pleasure, on which the system of Epi-
curus was founded, was of the first kind alone. The others
are more cognate to the Stoic philosophy, although our
language may include these also under the name of plea-
sure. In this sense every healthy form of activity and
contemplation is accompanied with pleasure. The athlete
may delight in the exercise of his bodily strength, the
philosopher in the contemplation of truth, the virtuous
man in kind actions and feelings of benevolence.
AND WELL-BEING. 2 2 f
;;• Happiness, again, with its Greek counterpart, evSai-
fiovia, brings before us a different set of associations. It
means, by its derivation, what happens or falls out, only
to be understood in a favourable sense. Thus it directs
our thoughts instinctively to the outward circumstances
of human life rather than to inward feelings alone. The
eonception it suggests is of some combination of good
things, not wholly within our own power, nor purely de-
pendent on our moral state and character, but involving
what seem, to the popular and superficial view, the casu-
alties of life. The Greek term has the same general sense,
hut includes more plainly a religious element. It views
this happy lot as due to the favour of some Divine power
concurring with human efforts, and without which those
efforts would be of little avail; in the spirit of Shakspere's
sentiment,
There's a divinity that shapes our ends,
Bough hew them as we will.
The term Well-being seems really better suited than
any of these to express correctly the aspect of morals which
deals with the true and right aim of all intelligent action.
It avoids the external, secondary, and merely instrumental
view of the action and the agent, which is implied in
Utility, the transiency and capricious subjectivity of Plea-
sure, and the prominence given to the external sources of
comfort or pain, independent of the human will, which
the word Happiness naturally suggests. It agrees more
nearly "with the Stoic doctrine, that the true aim and
'wisdom of man is to live according to nature. It implies
a natural standard of good, prior to our apprehensions of
it, and independent of the disease or parallax of the per-
cipient faculty, a healthy and good state of body and mind,
on the real pursuit of which for ourselves; and the pro-
15—2
228 PLEASURE, HAPPINESS,
motion of its attainment by others, all right and healthy
moral action depends. So far as the morality of conse-*
quences is true and sound, it may thus be embodied in
the doctrine, that all right moral action includes the desire
and aim to promote either our own or the general welk
being.
The Greatest Happiness principle, "when happiness is
defined simply by a summation of momentary pleasures,
diminished by momentary pains, involves a fourfold de-
parture from the true standard and real basis of Moral
Science.
And first, it involves a confusion of pleasures, different
in kind, and even diametrically opposed. Bentham has
given a list of fifteen kinds or varieties of pleasurable sen-
sation, to which he attaches a high importance. But in
this list he overlooks or sets aside the most important
distinctions, ,on which a right classification of pleasure
must depend. For these are of three kinds, diverse in
dignity, animal or physical, intellectual, and moral. And
of these three varieties each admits and requires a twofold
division. There are the pleasures of knowledge or health,
and those of illusion or disease. And hence there arise six
main varieties, of which three alone have a positive value,
but are of most unequal dignity; while three are negative
in their real character. These call for the correction and
restoration of the diseased faculty, or the instruction of
the deceived spirit, and not for efforts to propagate the
disease. It is no business of the true moralist to set up
our own follies and vices, or those of others, for objects to
be included in the aim of right moral action, because the
foolish take pleasure in folly, and the vicious and impure
may delight themselves greatly in their acts of profligacy
and corruption.
AND WELL-BEING. 229
The first fault, then, in the proposed basis, is the con-
fusion of disparate and even opposite kinds of pleasure, so
as by their imaginary sum to attain a first principle and
correct guide of right action. The starting-point is thus
moral confusion and blindness, and the issue to which it
leads is likely to be a relaxed and impure code, in which
holy aversion from evil is wholly absent and unknown.
What can we expect from a theory, which ranks the plea-
sures of lust and malevolence, because they actually please
selfish profligates, side by side with all the highest and
holiest joys that can dignify and ennoble ransomed spirits,
and prepare them for the society of heaven ?
The second defect consists in the momentariness of the
pleasures, which it is attempted to sum together, so as to
form the basis of the scheme. These pleasures, as plea-
sures, do not and cannot co-exist. The pleasure of this
hour expires, and ceases to exist, before the pleasure of
the next can be born. By what right, then, can we collect
them into one whole, and place this total for the founda-
tion of a scheme of morals ? In mathematics, the kind is
altered by the process of integration. We rise one degree
in the scale of thought each time that we pass through the
infinite. The integral of a moving point is a line, of a
moving line, a surface, of a moving surface, a solid. So
also, if we are to sum up a series of pleasures, which never
did, and never can coexist, each being hemmed in by the
narrow bounds of its own ephemeral and momentary
occurrence, we must pass from the conception of pleasures
-to that of a cause out of which they flow, a state of health,
which gives birth to the pleasures of healthy life, a state
of moral well-being, which gives birth to successive, mo-
mentary sensations of self-approval, peace of conscience, or
quiet assurance of the Divine favour and blessing. The
r230 PLEASURE, HAPPINESS,
.summation, if it be of a finite sequence, is wholly inade-
quate. If it be infinite, there is a transition in kind. We
deal no longer with a floating, perishable series of pleasant
sensations, but with that health or goodness of body or
mind, on which they depend, and out of which they flow.
A third defect, when the sum of pleasures is made the
foundation of morals, consists in the feebleness and diver-
. sity of men's capacities for being pleased. The cry of con-
tending moralists is like that of Archimedes, — Ao? ttov