Chapter 94

UTILITY.

It is a proper question with regard to a supposed moral standard,--What is its sanction? what is the source of its obligation? wherein lies its binding force? The customary morality is consecrated by education and opinion, and seems to be obligatory _in itself_; but to present, as the source of obligation, some general principle, not surrounded by the halo of consecration, seems a paradox; the superstructure seems to stand better without such a foundation. This difficulty belongs to every attempt to reduce morality to first principles, unless it should happen that the principle chosen has as much sacredness as any of its applications.

Utility has, or might have, all the sanctions attaching to any other system of morals. Those sanctions are either External or Internal. The External are the hope of favour and the fear of displeasure (1) from our fellow-creatures, or (2) from the Ruler of the Universe, along with any sympathy or affection for them, or love and awe of Him, inclining us apart from selfish motives. There is no reason why these motives should not attach themselves to utilitarian morality.

The Internal Sanction, under every standard of duty, is of one uniform character--a feeling in our own mind; a pain, more or less intense, attendant on violation of duty, which in properly cultivated moral natures rises, in the more serious cases, into shrinking from it as an impossibility. This feeling, when disinterested, and connecting itself with the pure idea of duty, is _the essence of Conscience_; a complex phenomenon, involving associations from sympathy, from love, and still more from fear; from the recollections of childhood, and of all our past life; from self-esteem, desire of the esteem of others, and occasionally even self-abasement. This extreme complication is an obstacle to our supposing that it can attach to other objects than what are found at present to excite it. The binding force, however, is _the mass of feeling to be broken through_ in order to violate our standard of right, and which, if we do violate that standard, will have to be afterwards encountered as remorse.

Thus, apart from external sanctions, the ultimate sanction, under Utility, is the same as for other standards, namely, the conscientious feelings of mankind. If there be anything innate in conscience, there is nothing more likely than that it should be a regard to the pleasures and pains of others. If so, the intuitive ethics would be the same as the utilitarian; and it is admitted on all hands that a _large_ portion of morality turns upon what is due to the interests of fellow-creatures.

On the other hand, if, as the author believes, the moral feelings are not innate, they are not for that reason less natural. It is natural to man to speak, to reason, to cultivate the ground, to build cities, though these are acquired faculties. So the moral faculty, if not a part of our nature, is a natural outgrowth of it; capable, in a certain small degree, of springing up spontaneously, and of being brought to a high pitch by means of cultivation. It is also susceptible, by the use of the external sanctions and the force of early impressions, of being cultivated in almost any direction, and of being perverted to absurdity and mischief.

The basis of natural sentiment capable of supporting the utilitarian morality is to be found in the _social feelings of mankind_. The social state is so natural, so necessary, and so habitual to man, that he can hardly conceive himself otherwise than as a member of society; and as civilization advances, this association becomes more firmly riveted. All strengthening of social ties, and all healthy growth of society, give to each individual a stronger personal interest in consulting the welfare of others. Each comes, as though instinctively, to be conscious of himself as a being that _of course_ pays regard to others. There is the strongest motive in each person to manifest this sentiment, and, even if he should not feel it strongly himself, to cherish it in everybody else. The smallest germs of the feeling are thus laid hold of, and nourished by the contagion of sympathy and the influences of education; and by the powerful agency of the external sanctions there is woven around it a complete web of corroborative association. In an improving state of society, the influences are on the increase that generate in each individual a feeling of unity with all the rest; which, if perfect, would make him never think of anything for self, if they also were not included. Suppose, now, that this feeling of unity were taught as a religion, and that the whole force of education, of institutions, and of opinion, were directed to make every person grow up surrounded with the profession and the practice of it; can there be any doubt as to the sufficiency of the ultimate sanction for the Happiness morality?

Even in our present low state of advancement, the deeply-rooted conception that each individual has of himself as a social being tends to make him wish to be in harmony with his fellow-creatures. The feeling may be, in most persons, inferior in strength to the selfish feelings, and may be altogether wanting; but to such as possess it, it has all the characters of a natural feeling, and one that they would not desire to be without.