part vii. ch. i. §3.

12 “Ce que les hommes ont nommé amitié n’est qu’une société, qu’un ménagement réciproque d’intérêts et qu’un échange de bons offices. Ce n’est enfin qu’un commerce où l’amour-propre se propose toujours quelque chose à gagner.”—La Rochefoucauld, _Max._ 83. See this idea developed at large in Helvétius.

13 “La science de la morale n’est autre chose que la science même de la législation.”—Helvétius _De l’Esprit_, ii. 17.

14 This doctrine is expounded at length in all the moral works of Hobbes and his school. The following passage is a fair specimen of their meaning:—“Moral philosophy is nothing else but the science of what is good and evil in the conversation and society of mankind. Good and evil are names that signify our appetites and aversions, which in different tempers, customs, and doctrines of men are different ... from whence arise disputes, controversies, and at last war. And therefore, so long as man is in this condition of mere nature (which is a condition of war), his private appetite is the measure of good and evil. And consequently all men agree in this, that peace is good, and therefore also that the ways or means of peace, (which, as I have showed before) are justice, gratitude, modesty, equity, mercy, and the rest of the laws of nature are good ... and their contrary vices evil.”—Hobbes’ _Leviathan_, part i. ch. xvi. See, too, a striking passage in Bentham’s _Deontology_, vol. ii. p. 132.

15 As an ingenious writer in the _Saturday Review_ (Aug. 10, 1867) expresses it: “Chastity is merely a social law created to encourage the alliances that most promote the permanent welfare of the race, and to maintain woman in a social position which it is thought advisable she should hold.” See, too, on this view, Hume’s _Inquiry concerning Morals_, § 4, and also _note_ x.: “To what other purpose do all the ideas of chastity and modesty serve? Nisi utile est quod facimus, frustra est gloria.”

16 “All pleasure is necessarily self-regarding, for it is impossible to have any feelings out of our own mind. But there are modes of delight that bring also satisfaction to others, from the round that they take in their course. Such are the pleasures of benevolence. Others imply no participation by any second party, as, for example, eating, drinking, bodily warmth, property, and power; while a third class are fed by the pains and privations of fellow-beings, as the delights of sport and tyranny. The condemnatory phrase, selfishness, applies with especial emphasis to the last-mentioned class, and, in a qualified degree, to the second group; while such terms as unselfishness, disinterestedness, self-devotion, are applied to the vicarious position wherein we seek our own satisfaction in that of others.”—Bain _On the Emotions and Will_, p. 113.

17 “Vice may be defined to be a miscalculation of chances, a mistake in estimating the value of pleasures and pains. It is false moral arithmetic.”—Bentham’s _Deontology_, vol. i. p. 131.

18 “La récompense, la punition, la gloire et l’infamie soumises à ses volontés sont quatre espèces de divinités avec lesquelles le législateur peut toujours opérer le bien public et créer des hommes illustres en tous les genres. Toute l’étude des moralistes consiste à déterminer l’usage qu’on doit faire de ces récompenses et de ces punitions et les secours qu’on peut tirer pour lier l’intérêt personnel à l’intérêt général.”—Helvétius _De l’Esprit_, ii. 22. “La justice de nos jugements et de nos actions n’est jamais que la rencontre heureuse de notre intérêt avec l’intérêt public.”—Ibid. ii. 7. “To prove that the immoral action is a miscalculation of self-interest, to show how erroneous an estimate the vicious man makes of pains and pleasures, is the purpose of the intelligent moralist. Unless he can do this he does nothing; for, as has been stated above, for a man not to pursue what he deems likely to produce to him the greatest sum of enjoyment, is, in the very nature of things, impossible.”—Bentham’s _Deontology_.

19 “If the effect of virtue were to prevent or destroy more pleasure than it produced, or to produce more pain than it prevented, its more appropriate name would be wickedness and folly; wickedness as it affected others, folly as respected him who practised it.”—Bentham’s _Deontology_, vol. i. p. 142. “Weigh pains, weigh pleasures, and as the balance stands will stand the question of right and wrong.”—Ibid. vol. i. p. 137. “Moralis philosophiæ caput est, Faustine fili, ut scias quibus ad beatam vitam perveniri rationibus possit.”—Apuleius, _Ad Doct. Platonis_, ii. “Atque ipsa utilitas, justi prope mater et æqui.”—Horace, _Sat._ I. iii. 98.

20 “We can be obliged to nothing but what we ourselves are to gain or lose something by; for nothing else can be ‘violent motive’ to us. As we should not be obliged to obey the laws or the magistrate unless rewards or punishments, pleasure or pain, somehow or other, depended upon our obedience; so neither should we, without the same reason, be obliged to do what is right, to practise virtue, or to obey the commands of God.”—Paley’s _Moral Philosophy_, book ii. ch. ii.

21 See Gassendi _Philosophiæ Epicuri Syntagma_. These four canons are a skilful condensation of the argument of Torquatus in Cicero, _De Fin._ i. 2. See, too, a very striking letter by Epicurus himself, given in his life by Diogenes Laërtius.

22 “Sanus igitur non est, qui nulla spe majore proposita, iis bonis quibus cæteri utuntur in vita, labores et cruciatus et miserias anteponat.... Non aliter his bonis præsentibus abstinendum est quam si sint aliqua majora, propter quæ tanti sit et voluptates omittere et mala omnia sustinere.”—Lactantius, _Div. Inst._ vi. 9. Macaulay, in some youthful essays against the Utilitarian theory (which he characteristically described as “Not much more laughable than phrenology, and immeasurably more humane than cock-fighting”), maintains the theological form of selfishness in very strong terms. “What proposition is there respecting human nature which is absolutely and universally true? We know of only one, and that is not only true but identical, that men always act from self-interest.”—Review of Mill’s _Essay on Government_. “Of this we may be sure, that the words ‘greatest happiness’ will never in any man’s mouth mean more than the greatest happiness of others, which is consistent with what he thinks his own.... This direction (Do as you would be done by) would be utterly unmeaning, as it actually is in Mr. Bentham’s philosophy, unless it were accompanied by a sanction. In the Christian scheme accordingly it is accompanied by a sanction of immense force. To a man whose greatest happiness in this world is inconsistent with the greatest happiness of the greatest number, is held out the prospect of an infinite happiness hereafter, from which he excludes himself by wronging his fellow-creatures here.”—_Answer to the Westminster Review’s Defence of Mill._

23 “All virtue and piety are thus resolvable into a principle of self-love. It is what Scripture itself resolves them into by founding them upon faith in God’s promises, and hope in things unseen. In this way it may be rightly said that there is no such thing as disinterested virtue. It is with reference to ourselves and for our own sakes that we love even God Himself.”—Waterland, _Third Sermon on Self-love_. “To risk the happiness of the whole duration of our being in any case whatever, were it possible, would be foolish.”—Robert Hall’s _Sermon on Modern Infidelity_. “In the moral system the means are virtuous practice; the end, happiness.”— Warburton’s _Divine Legation_, book ii. Appendix.

24 “There is always understood to be a difference between an act of prudence and an act of duty. Thus, if I distrusted a man who owed me a sum of money, I should reckon it an act of prudence to get another person bound with him; but I should hardly call it an act of duty.... Now in what, you will ask, does the difference consist, inasmuch as, according to our account of the matter, both in the one case and the other, in acts of duty as well as acts of prudence, we consider solely what we ourselves shall gain or lose by the act? The difference, and the only difference, is this: that in the one case we consider what we shall gain or lose in the present world; in the other case, we consider also what we shall gain or lose in the world to come.”—Paley’s _Moral Philosophy_, ii. 3.

25 “Hence we may see the weakness and mistake of those falsely religious ... who are scandalised at our being determined to the pursuit of virtue through any degree of regard to its happy consequences in this life.... For it is evident that the religious motive is precisely of the same kind, only stronger, as the happiness expected is greater and more lasting.”—Brown’s _Essays on the Characteristics_, p. 220.

26 “If a Christian, who has the view of happiness and misery in another life, be asked why a man must keep his word, he will give this as a reason, because God, who has the power of eternal life and death, requires it of us. But if an Hobbist be asked why, he will answer, because the public requires it, and the Leviathan will punish you if you do not. And if one of the old heathen philosophers had been asked, he would have answered, because it was dishonest, below the dignity of man, and opposite to virtue, the highest perfection of human nature, to do otherwise.”—Locke’s _Essay_, i. 3.

27 Thus Paley remarks that—“The Christian religion hath not ascertained the precise quantity of virtue necessary to salvation,” and he then proceeds to urge the probability of graduated scales of rewards and punishments. (_Moral Philosophy_, book i. ch. vii.)

28 This view was developed by Locke (_Essay on the Human Understanding_, book ii. ch. xxi.) Pascal, in a well-known passage, applied the same argument to Christianity, urging that the rewards and punishments it promises are so great, that it is the part of a wise man to embrace the creed, even though he believes it improbable, if there be but a possibility in its favour.

29 Cudworth, in his _Immutable Morals_, has collected the names of a number of the schoolmen who held this view. See, too, an interesting note in Miss Cobbe’s very learned _Essay on Intuitive Morals_, pp. 18, 19.

30 E.g. Soame Jenyns, Dr. Johnson, Crusius, Pascal, Paley, and Austin. Warburton is generally quoted in the list, but not I think quite fairly. See his theory, which is rather complicated (_Divine Legation_, i. 4). Waterland appears to have held this view, and also Condillac. See a very remarkable chapter on morals, in his _Traité des Animaux_, part ii. ch. vii. Closely connected with this doctrine is the notion that the morality of God is generically different from the morality of men, which having been held with more or less distinctness by many theologians (Archbishop King being perhaps the most prominent), has found in our own day an able defender in Dr. Mansel. Much information on the history of this doctrine will be found in Dr. Mansel’s _Second Letter_ to Professor Goldwin Smith (Oxford, 1862).

31 Leibnitz noticed the frequency with which Supralapsarian Calvinists adopt this doctrine. (_Théodicée_, part ii. § 176.) Archbishop Whately, who from his connection with the Irish Clergy had admirable opportunities of studying the tendencies of Calvinism, makes a similar remark as the result of his own experience. (_Whately’s Life_, vol. ii. p. 339.)

32 “God designs the happiness of all His sentient creatures.... Knowing the tendencies of our actions, and knowing His benevolent purpose, we know His tacit commands.”—Austin’s _Lectures on Jurisprudence_, vol. i. p. 31. “The commands which He has revealed we must gather from the terms wherein they are promulgated. The commands which He has not revealed we must construe by the principle of utility.”—Ibid. p. 96. So Paley’s _Moral Philosophy_, book ii. ch. iv. v.

33 Paley’s _Moral Philosophy_, book i. ch. vii. The question of the disinterestedness of the love we should bear to God was agitated in the Catholic Church, Bossuet taking the selfish, and Fénelon the unselfish side. The opinions of Fénelon and Molinos on the subject were authoritatively condemned. In England, the less dogmatic character of the national faith, and also the fact that the great anti-Christian writer, Hobbes, was the advocate of extreme selfishness in morals, had, I think, a favourable influence upon the ethics of the church. Hobbes gave the first great impulse to moral philosophy in England, and his opponents were naturally impelled to an unselfish theory. Bishop Cumberland led the way, resolving virtue (like Hutcheson) into benevolence. The majority of divines, however, till the present century, have, I think, been on the selfish side.

_ 34 Moral Philosophy_, ii. 3.

_ 35 Essay on the Human Understanding_, ii. 28.

_ 36 Principles of Morals and Legislation_, ch. iii. Mr. Mill observes that, “Bentham’s idea of the world is that of a collection of persons pursuing each his separate interest or pleasure, and the prevention of whom from jostling one another more than is unavoidable, may be attempted by hopes and fears derived from three sources—the law, religion, and public opinion. To these three powers, considered as binding human conduct, he gave the name of sanctions; the political sanction operating by the rewards and penalties of the law; the religious sanction by those expected from the ruler of the universe; and the popular, which he characteristically calls also the moral sanction, operating through the pains and pleasures arising from the favour or disfavour of our fellow-creatures.”—_Dissertations_, vol. i. pp. 362-363.

37 Hume on this, as on most other points, was emphatically opposed to the school of Hobbes, and even declared that no one could honestly and in good faith deny the reality of an unselfish element in man. Following in the steps of Butler, he explained it in the following passage:—“Hunger and thirst have eating and drinking for their end, and from the gratification of these primary appetites arises a pleasure which may become the object of another species of desire or inclination that is secondary and interested. In the same manner there are mental passions by which we are impelled immediately to seek particular objects, such as fame or power or vengeance, without any regard to interest, and when these objects are attained a pleasing enjoyment ensues.... Now where is the difficulty of conceiving that this may likewise be the case with benevolence and friendship, and that from the original frame of our temper we may feel a desire of another’s happiness or good, which by means of that affection becomes our own good, and is afterwards pursued, from the combined motives of benevolence and self-enjoyment?”—Hume’s _Enquiry concerning Morals_, Appendix II. Compare Butler, “If there be any appetite or any inward principle besides self-love, why may there not be an affection towards the good of our fellow-creatures, and delight from that affection’s being gratified and uneasiness from things going contrary to it?”—_Sermon on Compassion._

38 “By sympathetic sensibility is to be understood the propensity that a man has to derive pleasure from the happiness, and pain from the unhappiness, of other sensitive beings.”—Bentham’s _Principles of Morals and Legislation_, ch. vi. “The sense of sympathy is universal. Perhaps there never existed a human being who had reached full age without the experience of pleasure at another’s pleasure, of uneasiness at another’s pain.... Community of interests, similarity of opinion, are sources from whence it springs.”—_Deontology_, vol. i. pp. 169-170.

39 “The idea of the pain of another is naturally painful. The idea of the pleasure of another is naturally pleasurable.... In this, the unselfish part of our nature, lies a foundation, even independently of inculcation from without, for the generation of moral feelings”—Mill’s _Dissertations_, vol. i. p. 137. See, too, Bain’s _Emotions and the Will_, pp. 289, 313; and especially Austin’s _Lectures on Jurisprudence_. The first volume of this brilliant work contains, I think without exception, the best modern statement of the utilitarian theory in its most plausible form—a statement equally remarkable for its ability, its candour, and its uniform courtesy to opponents.

40 See a collection of passages from Aristotle, bearing on the subject, in Mackintosh’s _Dissertation_.

41 Cic. _De Finibus_, i. 5. This view is adopted in Tucker’s _Light of Nature_ (ed. 1842), vol. i. p. 167. See, too, Mill’s _Analysis of the Human Mind_, vol. ii. p. 174.

_ 42 Essay_, book ii. ch. xxxiii.

43 Hutcheson _On the Passions_, § 1. The “secondary desires” of Hutcheson are closely related to the “reflex affections” of Shaftesbury. “Not only the outward beings which offer themselves to the sense are the objects of the affection; but the very actions themselves, and the affections of pity, kindness, gratitude, and their contraries, being brought into the mind by reflection, become objects. So that by means of this reflected sense, there arises another kind of affection towards those very affections themselves.”—Shaftesbury’s _Enquiry concerning Virtue_, book i. part ii. § 3.

44 See the preface to Hartley _On Man_. Gay’s essay is prefixed to Law’s translation of Archbishop King _On the Origin of Evil_.

45 “The case is this. We first perceive or imagine some real good; i.e. fitness to promote our happiness in those things which we love or approve of.... Hence those things and pleasures are so tied together and associated in our minds, that one cannot present itself, but the other will also occur. And the association remains even after that which at first gave them the connection is quite forgotten, or perhaps does not exist, but the contrary.”—Gay’s _Essay_, p. lii. “All affections whatsoever are finally resolvable into reason, pointing out private happiness, and are conversant only about things apprehended to be means tending to this end; and whenever this end is not perceived, they are to be accounted for from the association of ideas, and may properly enough be called habits.”—Ibid. p. xxxi.

46 Principally by Mr. James Mill, whose chapter on association, in his _Analysis of the Human Mind_, may probably rank with Paley’s beautiful chapter on happiness, at the head of all modern writings on the utilitarian side,—either of them, I think, 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 attained), except a barbarous nomenclature 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. Paley states it with his usual admirable clearness. “Having experienced in some instances a particular conduct to be beneficial to ourselves, or observed that it would be so, a sentiment of approbation rises up in our minds, which sentiment afterwards accompanies the idea or mention of the same conduct, although the private advantage which first existed no longer exist.”—Paley, _Moral Philos_. i. 5. Paley, however, made less use of this doctrine than might have been expected from so enthusiastic an admirer of Tucker. In our own day it has been much used by Mr. J. S. Mill.

47 This illustration, which was first employed by Hutcheson, is very happily developed by Gay (p. lii.). It was then used by Hartley, and finally Tucker reproduced the whole theory with the usual illustration without any acknowledgment of the works of his predecessors, employing however, the term “translation” instead of “association” of ideas. See his curious chapter on the subject, _Light of Nature_, book i. ch. xviii.

48 “It is the nature of translation to throw desire from the end upon the means, which thenceforward become an end capable of exciting an appetite without prospect of the consequences whereto they lead. Our habits and most of the desires that occupy human life are of this translated kind.”—Tucker’s _Light of Nature_, vol. ii. (ed. 1842), p. 281.

49 Mill’s _Analysis of the Human Mind_. The desire for posthumous fame is usually cited by intuitive moralists as a proof of a naturally disinterested element in man.

50 Mill’s _Analysis_.

51 Hartley _On Man_, vol. i. pp. 474-475.

52 “Benevolence ... has also a high degree of honour and esteem annexed to it, procures us many advantages and returns of kindness, both from the person obliged and others, and is most closely connected with the hopes of reward in a future state, and of self-approbation or the moral sense; and the same things hold with respect to generosity in a much higher degree. It is easy therefore to see how such associations may be formed as to engage us to forego great pleasure, or endure great pain for the sake of others, how these associations may be attended with so great a degree of pleasure as to overrule the positive pain endured or the negative one from the foregoing of a pleasure, and yet how there may be no direct explicit expectation of reward either from God or man, by natural consequence or express appointment, not even of the concomitant pleasure that engages the agent to undertake the benevolent and generous action; and this I take to be a proof from the doctrine of association that there is and must be such a thing as pure disinterested benevolence; also a just account of the origin and nature of it.”—Hartley _On Man_, vol. i. pp. 473-474. See too Mill’s _Analysis_, vol. ii. p. 252.

53 Mill’s _Analysis_, vol. ii. pp. 244-247.

54 “With self-interest,” said Hartley, “man must begin; he may end in self-annihilation;” or as Coleridge happily puts it, “Legality precedes morality in every individual, even as the Jewish dispensation preceded the Christian in the world at large.”—_Notes Theological and Political_, p. 340. It might be retorted with much truth, that we begin by practising morality as a duty—we end by practising it as a pleasure, without any reference to duty. Coleridge, who expressed for the Benthamite theories a very cordial detestation, sometimes glided into them himself. “The happiness of man,” he says, “is the end of virtue, and truth is the knowledge of the means.” (_The Friend_, ed. 1850, vol. ii. p. 192.) “What can be the object of human virtue but the happiness of sentient, still more of moral beings?” (_Notes Theol. and Polit._ p. 351.) Leibnitz says, “Quand on aura appris à faire des actions louables par ambition, on les fera après par inclination.” (_Sur l’ Art de connaître les Hommes._)

55 E.g. Mackintosh and James Mill. Coleridge in his younger days was an enthusiastic admirer of Hartley; but chiefly, I believe, on account of his theory of vibrations. He named his son after him, and described him in one of his poems as:—

“He of mortal kind Wisest, the first who marked the ideal tribes Up the fine fibres through the sentient brain.”

_Religious Musings._

56 This position is elaborated in a passage too long for quotation by Mr. Austin. (_Lectures on Jurisprudence_, vol. i. p. 44.)

57 Hobbes defines conscience as “the opinion of evidence” (_On Human Nature_, ch. vi. §8). Locke as “our own opinion or judgment of the moral rectitude or pravity of our own actions” (_Essay_, book i. ch. iii. § 8). In Bentham there is very little on the subject; but in one place he informs us that “conscience is a thing of fictitious existence, supposed to occupy a seat in the mind” (_Deontology_, vol. i. p. 137); and in another he ranks “love of duty” (which he describes as an “impossible motive, in so far as duty is synonymous to obligation”) as a variety of the “love of power” (_Springs of Action_, ii.) Mr. Bain says, “conscience is an imitation within ourselves of the government without us.” (_Emotions and Will_, p. 313.)

58 “However much they [utilitarians] may believe (as they do) that actions and dispositions are only virtuous because they promote another end than virtue, yet this being granted ... they not only place virtue at the very head of the things which are good as means to the ultimate end, but they also recognise as a psychological fact the possibility of its being to the individual a good in itself.... Virtue, according to the utilitarian doctrine, is not naturally and originally part of the end, but it is capable of becoming so.... What was once desired as an instrument for the attainment of happiness has come to be desired ... as part of happiness.... Human nature is so constituted as to desire nothing which is not either a part of happiness or a means of happiness.”—J. S. Mill’s _Utilitarianism_, pp. 54, 55, 56, 58.

59 “A man is tempted to commit adultery with the wife of his friend. The composition of the motive is obvious. He does not obey the motive. Why? He obeys other motives which are stronger. Though pleasures are associated with the immoral act, pains are associated with it also—the pains of the injured husband, the pains of the wife, the moral indignation of mankind, the future reproaches of his own mind. Some men obey the first rather than the second motive. The reason is obvious. In these the association of the act with the pleasure is from habit unduly strong, the association of the act with pains is from want of habit unduly weak. This is the case of a bad education.... Among the different classes of motives, there are men who are more easily and strongly operated on by some, others by others. We have also seen that this is entirely owing to habits of association. This facility of being acted upon by motives of a particular description, is that which we call disposition.”—Mill’s _Analysis_, vol. ii. pp. 212, 213, &c. Adam Smith says, I think with much wisdom, that “the great secret of education is to direct vanity to proper objects.”—_Moral Sentiments_, part vi. § 3.

60 “Goodness in ourselves is the prospect of satisfaction annexed to the welfare of others, so that we please them for the pleasure we receive ourselves in so doing, or to avoid the uneasiness we should feel in omitting it. But God is completely happy in Himself, nor can His happiness receive increase or diminution from anything befalling His creatures; wherefore His goodness is pure, disinterested bounty, without any return of joy or satisfaction to Himself. Therefore it is no wonder we have imperfect notions of a quality whereof we have no experience in our own nature.”—Tucker’s _Light of Nature_, vol. i. p. 355. “It is the privilege of God alone to act upon pure, disinterested bounty, without the least addition thereby to His own enjoyment.”—Ibid. vol. ii. p. 279. On the other hand, Hutcheson asks, “If there be such disposition in the Deity, where is the impossibility of some small degree of this public love in His creatures, and why must they be supposed incapable of acting but from self-love?”—_Enquiry concerning Moral Good_, § 2.

61 “We gradually, through the influence of association, come to desire the means without thinking of the end; the action itself becomes an object of desire, and is performed without reference to any motive beyond itself. Thus far, it may still be objected that the action having, through association, become pleasurable, we are as much as before moved to act by the anticipation of pleasure, namely, the pleasure of the action itself. But granting this, the matter does not end here. As we proceed in the formation of habits, and become accustomed to will a particular act ... because it is pleasurable, we at last continue to will it without any reference to its being pleasurable.... In this manner it is that habits of hurtful excess continue to be practised, although they have ceased to be pleasurable, and in this manner also it is that the habit of willing to persevere in the course which he has chosen, does not desert the moral hero, even when the reward ... is anything but an equivalent for the suffering he undergoes, or the wishes he may have to renounce.”—Mill’s _Logic_ (4th edition), vol. ii. pp. 416, 417.

62 “In regard to interest in the most extended, which is the original and only strictly proper sense of the word disinterested, no human act has ever been or ever can be disinterested.... In the only sense in which disinterestedness can with truth be predicated of human actions, it is employed ... to denote, not the absence of all interest ... but only the absence of all interest of the self-regarding class. Not but that it is very frequently predicated of human action in cases in which divers interests, to no one of which the appellation of self-regarding can with propriety be denied, have been exercising their influence, and in particular fear of God, or hope from God, and fear of ill-repute, or hope of good repute. If what is above be correct, the most disinterested of men is not less under the dominion of interest than the most interested. The only cause of his being styled disinterested, is its not having been observed that the sort of motive (suppose it sympathy for an individual or class) has as truly a corresponding interest belonging to it as any other species of motive has. Of this contradiction between the truth of the case and the language employed in speaking of it, the cause is that in the one case men have not been in the habit of making—as in point of consistency they ought to have made—of the word interest that use which in the other case they have been in the habit of making of it.”—Bentham’s _Springs of Action_, ii. § 2.

63 Among others Bishop Butler, who draws some very subtle distinctions on the subject in his first sermon “on the love of our neighbour.” Dugald Stewart remarks that “although we apply the epithet selfish to avarice and to low and private sensuality, we never apply it to the desire of knowledge or to the pursuits of virtue, which are certainly sources of more exquisite pleasure than riches or sensuality can bestow.”—_Active and Moral Powers_, vol. i. p. 19.

64 Sir W. Hamilton.

65 Cic. _De Fin._ lib. ii.

66 “As there is not any sort of pleasure that is not itself a good, nor any sort of pain the exemption from which is not a good, and as nothing but the expectation of the eventual enjoyment of pleasure in some shape, or of exemption from pain in some shape, can operate in the character of a motive, a necessary consequence is that if by motive be meant _sort_ of motive, there is not any such thing as a bad motive.”—Bentham’s _Springs of Action_, ii. § 4. The first clauses of the following passage I have already quoted: “Pleasure is itself a good, nay, setting aside immunity from pain, the only good. Pain is in itself an evil, and indeed, without exception, the only evil, or else the words good and evil have no meaning. And this is alike true of every sort of pain, and of every sort of pleasure. It follows therefore immediately and incontestably that there is no such thing as any sort of motive that is in itself a bad one.”—_Principles of Morals and Legislation_, ch. ix. “The search after motive is one of the prominent causes of men’s bewilderment in the investigation of questions of morals.... But this is a pursuit in which every moment employed is a moment wasted. All motives are abstractedly good. No man has ever had, can, or could have a motive different from the pursuit of pleasure or of shunning pain.”—_Deontology_, vol. i. p. 126. Mr. Mill’s doctrine appears somewhat different from this, but the difference is I think only apparent. He says: “The motive has nothing to do with the morality of the action, though much with the worth of the agent,” and he afterwards explains this last statement by saying that the “motive makes a great difference in our moral estimation of the agent, especially if it indicates a good or a bad habitual disposition, a bent of character from which useful or from which hurtful actions are likely to arise.”—_Utilitarianism_, 2nd ed. pp. 26-27.

67 This truth has been admirably illustrated by Mr. Herbert Spencer (_Social Statics_, pp. 1-8).

68 “On évalue la grandeur de la vertu en comparant les biens obtenus aux maux au prix desquels on les achète: l’excédant en bien mesure la valeur de la vertu, comme l’excédant en mal mesure le degré de haine que doit inspirer le vice.”—Ch. Comte, _Traité de Législation_, liv. ii. ch. xii.

69 M. Dumont, the translator of Bentham, has elaborated in a rather famous passage the utilitarian notions about vengeance. “Toute espèce de satisfaction entraînant une peine pour le délinquant produit naturellement un plaisir de vengeance pour la partie lésée. Ce plaisir est un gain. Il rappelle la parabole de Samson. C’est le doux qui sort du terrible. C’est le miel recueilli dans la gueule du lion. Produit sans frais, résultat net d’une opération nécessaire à d’autres titres, c’est une jouissance à cultiver comme toute autre; car le plaisir de la vengeance considérée abstraitement n’est comme tout autre plaisir qu’un bien en lui-même.”—_Principes du Code pénal_, 2me partie, ch. xvi. According to a very acute living writer of this school, “The criminal law stands to the passion of revenge in much the same relation as marriage to the sexual appetite” (J. F. Stephen, _On the Criminal Law of England_, p. 99). Mr. Mill observes that, “In the golden rule of Jesus of Nazareth, we read the complete spirit of the ethics of utility” (_Utilitarianism_, p. 24). It is but fair to give a specimen of the opposite order of extravagance. “So well convinced was Father Claver of the eternal happiness of almost all whom he assisted,” says this saintly missionary’s biographer, “that speaking once of some persons who had delivered a criminal into the hands of justice, he said, God _forgive_ them; but they have secured the salvation of this man at _the probable risk of their own_.”—Newman’s _Anglican Difficulties_, p. 205.

_ 70 De Ordine_, ii. 4. The experiment has more than once been tried at Venice, Pisa, &c., and always with the results St. Augustine predicted.

71 The reader will here observe the very transparent sophistry of an assertion which is repeated ad nauseam by utilitarians. They tell us that a regard to the remote consequences of our actions would lead us to the conclusion that we should never perform an act which would not be conducive to human happiness if it were universally performed, or, as Mr. Austin expresses it, that “the question is if acts of this class were generally done or generally forborne or omitted, what would be the probable effect on the general happiness or good?” (_Lectures on Jurisprudence_, vol. i. p. 32.) The question is nothing of the kind. If I am convinced that utility alone constitutes virtue, and if I am meditating any particular act, the sole question of morality must be whether that act is on the whole useful, produces a net result of happiness. To determine this question I must consider both the immediate and the remote consequences of the act; but the latter are not ascertained by asking what would be the result if every one did as I do, but by asking how far, as a matter of fact, my act is likely to produce imitators, or affect the conduct and future acts of others. It may no doubt be convenient and useful to form classifications based on the general tendency of different courses to promote or diminish happiness, but such classifications cannot alter the morality of particular acts. It is quite clear that no act which produces on the whole more pleasure than pain can on utilitarian principles be vicious. It is, I think, equally clear that no one could act consistently on such a principle without being led to consequences which in the common judgment of mankind are grossly and scandalously immoral.

72 There are some very good remarks on the possibility of living a life of imagination wholly distinct from the life of action in Mr. Bain’s _Emotions and Will_, p. 246.

73 Bentham especially recurs to this subject frequently. See Sir J. Bowring’s edition of his works (Edinburgh, 1843), vol. i. pp. 142, 143, 562; vol. x. pp. 549-550.

74 “Granted that any practice causes more pain to animals than it gives pleasure to man; is that practice moral or immoral? And if exactly in proportion as human beings raise their heads out of the slough of selfishness they do not with one voice answer ‘immoral,’ let the morality of the principle of utility be for ever condemned.”—Mill’s _Dissert_. vol. ii. p. 485. “We deprive them [animals] of life, and this is justifiable—their pains do not equal our enjoyments. There is a balance of good.”—Bentham’s _Deontology_, vol. i. p. 14. Mr. Mill accordingly defines the principle of utility, without any special reference to man. “The creed which accepts as the foundation of morals, utility or the great happiness principle, holds that actions are right in proportion as they tend to promote happiness, wrong as they tend to produce the reverse of happiness.”—_Utilitarianism_, pp. 9-10.

75 The exception of course being domestic animals, which may be injured by ill treatment, but even this exception is a very partial one. No selfish reason could prevent any amount of cruelty to animals that were about to be killed, and even in the case of previous ill-usage the calculations of selfishness will depend greatly upon the price of the animal. I have been told that on some parts of the continent diligence horses are systematically under-fed, and worked to a speedy death, their cheapness rendering such a course the most economical.

76 Bentham, as we have seen, is of opinion that the gastronomic pleasure would produce the requisite excess of enjoyment. Hartley, who has some amiable and beautiful remarks on the duty of kindness to animals, without absolutely condemning, speaks with much aversion of the custom of eating “our brothers and sisters,” the animals. (_On Man_, vol. ii. pp. 222-223.) Paley, observing that it is quite possible for men to live without flesh-diet, concludes that the only sufficient justification for eating meat is an express divine revelation in the Book of Genesis. (_Moral Philos._ book ii. ch. 11.) Some reasoners evade the main issue by contending that they kill animals because they would otherwise overrun the earth; but this, as Windham said, “is an indifferent reason for killing fish.”

77 In commenting upon the French licentiousness of the eighteenth century, Hume says, in a passage which has excited a great deal of animadversion:—“Our neighbours, it seems, have resolved to sacrifice some of the domestic to the social pleasures; and to prefer ease, freedom, and an open commerce, to strict fidelity and constancy. These ends are both good, and are somewhat difficult to reconcile; nor must we be surprised if the customs of nations incline too much sometimes to the one side, and sometimes to the other.”—_Dialogue._

78 There are few things more pitiable than the blunders into which writers have fallen when trying to base the plain virtue of chastity on utilitarian calculations. Thus since the writings of Malthus it has been generally recognised that one of the very first conditions of all material prosperity is to check early marriages, to restrain the tendency of population to multiply more rapidly than the means of subsistence. Knowing this, what can be more deplorable than to find moralists making such arguments as these the very foundation of morals?—“The first and great mischief, and by consequence the guilt, of promiscuous concubinage consists in its tendency to diminish marriages.” (Paley’s _Moral Philosophy_, book iii. part iii. ch. ii.) “That is always the most happy condition of a nation, and that nation is most accurately obeying the laws of our constitution, in which the number of the human race is most rapidly increasing. Now it is certain that under the law of chastity, that is, when individuals are exclusively united to each other, the increase of population will be more rapid than under any other circumstances.” (Wayland’s _Elements of Moral Science_, p. 298, 11th ed., Boston, 1839.) I am sorry to bring such subjects before the reader, but it is impossible to write a history of morals without doing so.

79 See Luther’s _Table Talk_.

80 Tillemont, _Mém. pour servir à l’Hist. ecclésiastique_, tome x. p. 57.

81 Τό τε ἀληθεύειν καὶ τὸ εὐεργετεῖν. (Ælian, _Var. Hist._ xii. 59.) Longinus in like manner divides virtue into εὐεργεσία καὶ ἀλήθεια. (_De Sublim._ § 1.) The opposite view in England is continually expressed in the saying, “You should never pull down an opinion until you have something to put in its place,” which can only mean, if you are convinced that some religious or other hypothesis is false, you are morally bound to repress or conceal your conviction until you have discovered positive affirmations or explanations as unqualified and consolatory as those you have destroyed.

82 See this powerfully stated by Shaftesbury. (_Inquiry concerning Virtue_, book i. part iii.) The same objection applies to Dr. Mansel’s modification of the theological doctrine—viz. that the origin of morals is not the will but the nature of God.

83 “The one great and binding ground of the belief of God and a hereafter is the law of conscience.”—Coleridge, _Notes Theological and Political_, p. 367. That our moral faculty is our one reason for maintaining the supreme benevolence of the Deity was a favourite position of Kant.

84 “Nescio quomodo inhæret in mentibus quasi sæculorum quoddam augurium futurorum; idque in maximis ingeniis altissimisque animis et exsistit maxime et apparet facillime.”—Cic. _Tusc. Disp._ i. 14.

85 “It is a calumny to say that men are roused to heroic actions by ease, hope of pleasure, recompense—sugar-plums of any kind in this world or the next. In the meanest mortal there lies something nobler. The poor swearing soldier hired to be shot has his ‘honour of a soldier,’ different from drill, regulations, and the shilling a day. It is not to taste sweet things, but to do noble and true things, and vindicate himself under God’s heaven as a God-made man, that the poorest son of Adam dimly longs. Show him the way of doing that, the dullest day-drudge kindles into a hero. They wrong man greatly who say he is to be seduced by ease. Difficulty, abnegation, martyrdom, death, are the allurements that act on the heart of man. Kindle the inner genial life of him, you have a flame that burns up all lower considerations.”—Carlyle’s _Hero-worship_, p. 237 (ed. 1858).

86 “Clamat Epicurus, is quem vos nimis voluptatibus esse deditum dicitis, non posse jucunde vivi nisi sapienter, honeste, justeque vivatur, nec sapienter, honeste, juste nisi jucunde.”—Cicero, _De Fin._ i. 18.

87 “The virtues to be complete must have fixed their residence in the heart and become appetites impelling to actions without further thought than the gratification of them; so that after their expedience ceases they still continue to operate by the desire they raise.... I knew a mercer who having gotten a competency of fortune, thought to retire and enjoy himself in quiet; but finding he could not be easy without business was forced to return to the shop and assist his former partners gratis, in the nature of a journeyman. Why then should it be thought strange that a man long inured to the practice of moral duties should persevere in them out of liking, when they can yield him no further advantage?”—Tucker’s _Light of Nature_, vol. i. p. 269. Mr. J. S. Mill in his _Utilitarianism_ dwells much on the heroism which he thinks this view of morals may produce.

88 See Lactantius, _Inst. Div._ vi. 9. Montesquieu, in his _Décadence de l’Empire romain_, has shown in detail the manner in which the crimes of Roman politicians contributed to the greatness of their nation. Modern history furnishes only too many illustrations of the same truth.

89 “That quick sensibility which is the groundwork of all advances towards perfection increases the pungency of pains and vexations.”—Tucker’s _Light of Nature_, ii. 16, § 4.

90 This position is forcibly illustrated by Mr. Maurice in his fourth lecture _On Conscience_ (1868). It is manifest that a tradesman resisting a dishonest or illegal trade custom, an Irish peasant in a disturbed district revolting against the agrarian conspiracy of his class, or a soldier in many countries conscientiously refusing in obedience to the law to fight a duel, would incur the full force of social penalties, because he failed to do that which was illegal or criminal.

91 See Brown _On the Characteristics_, pp. 206-209.

92 “A toothache produces more violent convulsions of pain than a phthisis or a dropsy. A gloomy disposition ... may be found in very worthy characters, though it is sufficient alone to embitter life.... A selfish villain may possess a spring and alacrity of temper, which is indeed a good quality, but which is rewarded much beyond its merit, and when attended with good fortune will compensate for the uneasiness and remorse arising from all the other vices.”—Hume’s Essays: _The Sceptic_.

93 At the same time, the following passage contains, I think, a great deal of wisdom and of a kind peculiarly needed in England at the present day:—“The nature of the subject furnishes the strongest presumption that no better system will ever, for the future, be invented, in order to account for the origin of the benevolent from the selfish affections, and reduce all the various emotions of the human mind to a perfect simplicity. The case is not the same in this species of philosophy as in physics. Many an hypothesis in nature, contrary to first appearances, has been found, on more accurate scrutiny, solid and satisfactory.... But the presumption always lies on the other side in all enquiries concerning the origin of our passions, and of the internal operations of the human mind. The simplest and most obvious cause which can there be assigned for any phenomenon, is probably the true one.... The affections are not susceptible of any impression from the refinements of reason or imagination; and it is always found that a vigorous exertion of the latter faculties, necessarily, from the narrow capacity of the human mind, destroys all activity in the former.”—Hume’s _Enquiry Concerning Morals_, Append. II.

94 “The pleasing consciousness and self-approbation that rise up in the mind of a virtuous man, exclusively of any direct, explicit, consideration of advantage likely to accrue to himself from his possession of those good qualities” (Hartley _On Man_, vol. i. p. 493), form a theme upon which moralists of both schools are fond of dilating, in a strain that reminds one irresistibly of the self-complacency of a famous nursery hero, while reflecting upon his own merits over a Christmas-pie. Thus Adam Smith says, “The man who, not from frivolous fancy, but from proper motives, has performed a generous action, when he looks forward to those whom he has served, feels himself to be the natural object of their love and gratitude, and by sympathy with them, of the esteem and approbation of all mankind. And when he looks backward to the motive from which he acted, and surveys it in the light in which the indifferent spectator will survey it, he still continues to enter into it, and applauds himself by sympathy with the approbation of this supposed impartial judge. In both these points of view, his conduct appears to him every way agreeable.... Misery and wretchedness can never enter the breast in which dwells complete self-satisfaction.”—_Theory of Moral Sentiments_, part ii. ch. ii. § 2; part iii. ch. iii. I suspect that many moralists confuse the self-gratulation which they suppose a virtuous man to feel, with the delight a religious man experiences from the sense of the protection and favour of the Deity. But these two feelings are clearly distinct, and it will, I believe, be found that the latter is most strongly experienced by the very men who most sincerely disclaim all sense of merit. “Were the perfect man to exist,” said that good and great writer, Archer Butler, “he himself would be the last to know it; for the highest stage of advancement is the lowest descent in humility.” At all events, the reader will observe, that on utilitarian principles nothing could be more pernicious or criminal than that modest, humble, and diffident spirit, which diminishes the pleasure of self-gratulation, one of the highest utilitarian motives to virtue.

95 Hartley has tried in one place to evade this conclusion by an appeal to the doctrine of final causes. He says that the fact that conscience is not an original principle of our nature, but is formed mechanically in the manner I have described, does not invalidate the fact that it is intended for our guide, “for all the things which have evident final causes, are plainly brought about by mechanical means;” and he appeals to the milk in the breast, which is intended for the sustenance of the young, but which is nevertheless mechanically produced. (_On Man_, vol. ii. pp. 338-339.) But it is plain that this mode of reasoning would justify us in attributing an authoritative character to any habit—e.g. to that of avarice—which these writers assure us is in the manner of its formation an exact parallel to conscience. The later followers of Hartley certainly cannot be accused of any excessive predilection for the doctrine of final causes, yet we sometimes find them asking what great difference it can make whether (when conscience is admitted by both parties to be real) it is regarded as an original principle of our nature, or as a product of association? Simply this. If by the constitution of our nature we are subject to a law of duty which is different from and higher than our interest, a man who violates this law through interested motives, is deserving of reprobation. If on the other hand there is no natural law of duty, and if the pursuit of our interest is the one original principle of our being, no one can be censured who pursues it, and the first criterion of a wise man will be his determination to eradicate every habit (conscientious or otherwise) which impedes him in doing so.

_ 96 On Human Nature_, chap. ix. § 10.

_ 97 Enquiry concerning Good and Evil._

98 This theory is noticed by Hutcheson, and a writer in the _Spectator_ (No. 436) suggests that it may explain the attraction of prize-fights. The case of the pleasure derived from fictitious sorrow is a distinct question, and has been admirably treated in Lord Kames’ _Essays on Morality_. Bishop Butler notices (_Second Sermon on Compassion_), that it is possible for the very intensity of a feeling of compassion to divert men from charity by making them “industriously turn away from the miserable;” and it is well known that Goethe, on account of this very susceptibility, made it one of the rules of his life to avoid everything that could suggest painful ideas. Hobbes makes the following very characteristic comments on some famous lines of Lucretius: “From what passion proceedeth it that men take pleasure to behold from the shore the danger of those that are at sea in a tempest or in fight, or from a safe castle to behold two armies charge one another in the field? It is certainly in the whole sum joy, else men would never flock to such a spectacle. Nevertheless, there is both joy and grief, for as there is novelty and remembrance of our own security present, which is delight, so there is also pity, which is grief. But the delight is so far predominant that men usually are content in such a case to be spectators of the misery of their friends.” (_On Human Nature_, ch. ix. § 19.) Good Christians, according to some theologians, are expected to enjoy this pleasure in great perfection in heaven. “We may believe in the next world also the goodness as well as the happiness of the blest will be confirmed and advanced by reflections naturally arising from the view of the misery which some shall undergo, which seems to be a good reason for the creation of those beings who shall be finally miserable, and for the continuation of them in their miserable existence ... though in one respect the view of the misery which the damned undergo might seem to detract from the happiness of the blessed through pity and commiseration, yet under another, a nearer and much more affecting consideration, viz. that all this is the misery they themselves were often exposed to and in danger of incurring, why may not the sense of their own escape so far overcome the sense of another’s ruin as quite to extinguish the pain that usually attends the idea of it, and even render it productive of some real happiness? To this purpose, Lucretius’ _Suave mari_,” etc. (_Law’s notes to his Translation of King’s Origin of Evil_, pp. 477, 479.)

99 See e.g. _Reid’s Essays on the Active Powers_, essay iii. ch. v.

100 The error I have traced in this paragraph will be found running through a great part of what Mr. Buckle has written upon morals—I think the weakest portion of his great work. See, for example, an elaborate confusion on the subject, _History of Civilisation_, vol. ii. p. 429. Mr. Buckle maintains that all the philosophers of what is commonly called “the Scotch school” (a school founded by the Irishman Hutcheson, and to which Hume does not belong), were incapable of inductive reasoning, because they maintained the existence of a moral sense or faculty, or of first principles, incapable of resolution; and he enters into a learned enquiry into the causes which made it impossible for Scotch writers to pursue or appreciate the inductive method. It is curious to contrast this view with the language of one, who, whatever may be the value of his original speculations, is, I conceive, among the very ablest philosophical critics of the present century. “Les philosophes écossais adoptèrent les procédés que Bacon avait recommandé d’appliquer à l’étude du monde physique, et les transportèrent dans l’étude du monde moral. Ils firent voir que l’induction baconienne, c’est-à-dire, l’induction précédée d’une observation scrupuleuse des phénomènes, est en philosophie comme en physique la seule méthode légitime. C’est un de leurs titres les plus honorables d’avoir insisté sur cette démonstration, et d’avoir en même temps joint l’exemple au précepte.... Il est vrai que le zèle des philosophes écossais en faveur de la méthode d’observation leur a presque fait dépasser le but. Ils ont incliné à renfermer la psychologie dans la description minutieuse et continuelle de phénomènes de l’âme sans réfléchir assez que cette description doit faire place à l’induction et au raisonnement déductif, et qu’une philosophie qui se bornerait à l’observation serait aussi stérile que celle qui s’amuserait à construire des hypothèses sans avoir préalablement observé.”—Cousin, Hist. de la Philos. Morale au xviiime Siècle, Tome 4, p. 14-16. Dugald Stewart had said much the same thing, but he was a Scotchman, and therefore, according to Mr. Buckle (_Hist. of Civ._ ii. pp. 485-86), incapable of understanding what induction was. I may add that one of the principal objections M. Cousin makes against Locke is, that he investigated the origin of our ideas before analysing minutely their nature, and the propriety of this method is one of the points on which Mr. Mill (_Examination of Sir W. Hamilton_) is at issue with M. Cousin.

101 M. Ch. Comte, in his very learned _Traité de Législation_, liv. iii. ch. iv., has made an extremely curious collection of instances in which different nations have made their own distinctive peculiarities of colour and form the ideal of beauty.

102 “How particularly fine the hard theta is in our English terminations, as in that grand word death, for which the Germans gutturise a sound that _puts you in mind of nothing but a loathsome toad_.”—Coleridge’s _Table Talk_, p. 181.

103 Mackintosh, _Dissert._ p. 238.

104 Lord Kames’ _Essays on Morality_ (1st edition), pp. 55-56.

105 See Butler’s _Three Sermons on Human Nature_, and the preface.

106 Speaking of the animated statue which he regarded as a representative of man, Condillac says, “Le goût peut ordinairement contribuer plus que l’odorat à son bonheur et à son malheur.... Il y contribue même encore plus que les sons harmonieux, parce que le besoin de nourriture lui rend les saveurs plus nécessaires, et par conséquent les lui fait goûter avec plus de vivacité. La faim pourra la rendre malheureuse, mais dès qu’elle aura remarqué les sensations propres à l’apaiser, elle y déterminera davantage son attention, les désirera avec plus de violence et en jouira avec plus de délire.”—_Traité des Sensations_, 1re partie ch. x.

107 This is one of the favourite thoughts of Pascal, who, however, in his usual fashion dwells upon it in a somewhat morbid and exaggerated strain. “C’est une bien grande misère que de pouvoir prendre plaisir à des choses si basses et si méprisables ... l’homme est encore plus à plaindre de ce qu’il peut se divertir à ces choses si frivoles et si basses, que de ce qu’il s’afflige de ses misères effectives.... D’ou vient que cet homme, qui a perdu depuis peu son fils unique, et qui, accablé de procès et de querelles, était ce matin si troublé, n’y pense plus maintenant? Ne vous en étonnez pas; il est tout occupé à voir par où passera un cerf que ses chiens poursuivent.... C’est une joie de malade et de frénétique.”—_Pensées_ (Misère de l’homme).

108 “Quæ singula improvidam mortalitatem involvunt, solum ut inter ista certum sit, nihil esse certi, nec miserius quidquam homine, aut superbius. Cæteris quippe animantium sola victus cura est, in quo sponte naturæ benignitas sufficit: uno quidem vel præferenda cunctis bonis, quod de gloria, de pecunia, ambitione, superque de morte, non cogitant.”—Plin. _Hist. Nat._ ii. 5.

109 Paley, in his very ingenious, and in some respects admirable, chapter on happiness tries to prove the inferiority of animal pleasures, by showing the short time their enjoyment actually lasts, the extent to which they are dulled by repetition, and the cases in which they incapacitate men for other pleasures. But this calculation omits the influence of some animal enjoyments upon health and temperament. The fact, however, that health, which is a condition of body, is the chief source of happiness, Paley fully admits. “Health,” he says, “is the one thing needful ... when we are in perfect health and spirits, we feel in ourselves a happiness independent of any particular outward gratification.... This is an enjoyment which the Deity has annexed to life, and probably constitutes in a great measure the happiness of infants and brutes ... of oysters, periwinkles, and the like; for which I have sometimes been at a loss to find out amusement.” On the test of happiness he very fairly says, “All that can be said is that there remains a presumption in favour of those conditions of life in which men generally appear most cheerful and contented; for though the apparent happiness of mankind be not always a true measure of their real happiness, it is the best measure we have.”—_Moral Philosophy_, i. 6.

110 A writer who devoted a great part of his life to studying the deaths of men in different countries, classes, and churches, and to collecting from other physicians information on the subject, says: “À mesure qu’on s’éloigne des grands foyers de civilisation, qu’on se rapproche des plaines et des montagnes, le caractère de la mort prend de plus en plus l’aspect calme du ciel par un beau crépuscule du soir.... En général la mort s’accomplit d’une manière d’autant plus simple et naturelle qu’on est plus libre des innombrables liens de la civilisation.”—Lauvergne, _De l’agonie de la Mort_, tome i. pp. 131-132.

111 “I will omit much usual declamation upon the dignity and capacity of our nature, the superiority of the soul to the body, of the rational to the animal part of our constitution, upon the worthiness, refinement, and delicacy of some satisfactions, or the meanness, grossness, and sensuality of others; because I hold that pleasures differ in nothing but in continuance and intensity.”—Paley’s _Moral Philosophy_, book i. ch. vi. Bentham in like manner said, “Quantity of pleasure being equal, pushpin is as good as poetry,” and he maintained that the value of a pleasure depends on—its (1) intensity, (2) duration, (3) certainty, (4) propinquity, (5) purity, (6) fecundity, (7) extent (_Springs of Action_). The recognition of the “purity” of a pleasure might seem to imply the distinction for which I have contended in the text, but this is not so. The purity of a pleasure or pain, according to Bentham, is “the chance it has of not being followed by sensations of the opposite kind: that is pain if it be a pleasure, pleasure if it be a pain.”—_Morals and Legislation_, i. § 8. Mr. Buckle (_Hist. of Civilisation_, vol. ii. pp. 399-400) writes in a somewhat similar strain, but less unequivocally, for he admits that mental pleasures are “more ennobling” than physical ones. The older utilitarians, as far as I have observed, did not even advert to the question. This being the case, it must have been a matter of surprise as well as of gratification to most intuitive moralists to find Mr. Mill fully recognising the existence of different kinds of pleasure, and admitting that the superiority of the higher kinds does not spring from their being greater in amount.—_Utilitarianism_, pp. 11-12. If it be meant by this that we have the power of recognising some pleasures as superior to others in kind, irrespective of all consideration of their intensity, their cost, and their consequences, I submit that the admission is completely incompatible with the utilitarian theory, and that Mr. Mill has only succeeded in introducing Stoical elements into his system by loosening its very foundation. The impossibility of establishing an aristocracy of enjoyments in which, apart from all considerations of consequences, some which give less pleasure and are less widely diffused are regarded as intrinsically superior to others which give more pleasure and are more general, without admitting into our estimate a moral element, which on utilitarian principles is wholly illegitimate, has been powerfully shown since the first edition of this book by Professor Grote, in his _Examination of the Utilitarian Philosophy_, chap. iii.

112 Büchner, _Force et Matière_, pp. 163-164. There is a very curious collection of the speculations of the ancient philosophers on this subject in Plutarch’s treatise, _De Placitis Philos._

113 Aulus Gellius, _Noctes_, x. 23. The law is given by Dion. Halicarn. Valerius Maximus says, “Vini usus olim Romanis feminis ignotus fuit, ne scilicet in aliquod dedecus prolaberentur: quia proximus a Libero patre intemperantiæ gradus ad inconcessam Venerem esse consuevit” (Val. Max. ii. 1, § 5). This is also noticed by Pliny (_Hist. Nat._