o
=10
IS
A SUPPLEMENT
TO THE SECOND EDITION
OP THE
METHODS OF ETHICS
A SUPPLEMENT
TO THE SECOND EDITION
OF THE
METHODS OF ETHICS
BY
HENRY SIDGWICK, Lrra.D.
KNIGHTBRIDGE PROFESSOR OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF
CAMBRIDGE.
CONTAINING ALL THE IMPORTANT ADDITIONS AND
ALTERATIONS IN THE THIRD EDITION.
MACMILLAN AND CO,
1884
[The Right of Translation is reserved.]
CDamfcrttgc :
PRINTED BY C. J. CLAY, M.A. AND SON,
AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS.
PEEFACE.
IN this third edition I have again made extensive
alterations, and introduced a considerable amount of
new matter. Some of these changes and additions are
due to modifications of my own ethical or psychological
views; but I do not think that any of these are of
great importance in relation to the main subject of the
treatise. And by far the largest part of the new
matter introduced has been written either (l) to re
move obscurities, ambiguities, and minor inconsistencies
in the exposition of my views which the criticisms1 of
others or my own reflection have enabled me to dis
cover; or (2) to treat as fully as seemed desirable
certain parts or aspects of the subject which I had
either passed over altogether or discussed too slightly
in my previous editions, and on which it now appears
to me important to explain my opinions, either for the
greater completeness of my treatise, — according to my
own view of the subject, — or for its better adaptation
to the present state of ethical thought in England.
The most important changes of the first kind have been
made in chaps, i. and ix. of Book I., chaps, i. — iii. of
Book n. and chaps, i., xiii. and xiv. of Book in. : under
1 I must here acknowledge the advantage that I have received from the
remarks and questions of my pupils, and from criticisms privately communicated
to me by others ; among these latter I ought especially to mention an instructive
examination of my fundamental doctrines by the Rev. Hastings Eashdall.
vi PREFACE.
the second head I may mention the discussions of the
relation of intellect to moral action in Book i. chap, iii.,
of volition in Book i. chap, v., of the causes of pleasure
and pain in Book n. chap, vi., of the notion of virtue
in the morality of Common Sense in Book in. chap. ii.
and of evolutional ethics in Book iv. chap. iv. (chiefly).
In conclusion, I ought to explain that the matter
contained in this supplement is only in part new : as
in many cases I have thought it more convenient to
include portions of the old text, in order to make the
new matter more readily intelligible ; indeed in some
of the passages here given the alterations that have
been made are in extent slight, though always in effect
not unimportant, according to my judgment.
At the commencement of each passage I have
always noted the line of the page in the second edition
at which the passage is to be inserted : but it did not
occur to me, until the first seven sheets of this sup
plement had been printed off, that the reader might
sometimes have trouble in finding the place at which
he was to return to the text of the second edition at
the conclusion of a new insertion. In the remainder
of the supplement I have noted the point of return to
the old text, as well as the point of departure from it,
in the case of all the passages long enough to cause
any difficulty ; and in order to remedy as far as
possible the absence of this indication in the first
seven sheets, I have subjoined an exact account of all
the longer passages of the second edition which the
reader is understood to omit, in introducing the pas
sages given in the first portion of this supplement — i.e.
to the end of Book in. ch. ii.
PREFACE Vll
BOOK I.
Chapter i. p. 1, 1. 13— p. 2, 1. 28 ; p. 3, 1. 9—29 ; p. 5, 1. 14—29 ; p. 7,
1. 27— p. 8, 1. 33 ; p. 9, 1. 1—29 ; p. 13, 1. 11—18.
Chap. ii. p. 15, 1. 31—38; p. 18, 1. 1— p. 19, L 34; p. 20, 1. 27—37;
p. 21, 1. 8—17.
Chap. iii. p. 24, 1. 1—4 ; p. 24, 1. 13— p. 25, 1. 24 ; p. 26, 1. 6—8 ; p. 27,
1. 31— p. 29, 1. 1 ; p. 29, 1. 20— p. 30, 1. 29 ; the whole of § 4.
Chap. iv. p. 35, 1. 9— p. 36, 1. 11; p. 36, last line to end of p. 37;
p. 38, 1. 28— p. 39, 1. 23 ; p. 40, 1. 13—35.
Chap. v. § 1 and § 2 to p. 51, 1. 25; p. 52, 1. 18—20 and 1. 29—38;
p. 54, 1. 13—28 ; p. 55, 1. 10—23 ; p. 57, 1. 29— p. 58, 1. 6 ; p. 59, 1. 16—21 ;
p. 60, 1. 15—33 ; p. 61, 1. 27—35.
Chap, vi. p. 63, 1. 1—10 ; p. 64, 1. 12— p. 66, 1. 8 ; p. 66, 1. 23—28; p. 67,
1. 1—13; p. 70, 1. 35— p. 71, 1. 18; p. 73, 1. 9-34; p. 75, 1. 12—27.
Chap. vii. p. 81, 1. 5— p. 82, 1. 14.
Chap. viii. p. 85, 1. 1—16 ; p. 86, 1. 6— p. 87, 1. 13 ; p. 88, 1. 21— p. 89,
1. 4 ; p. 91, 1. 2—14.
Chap. ix. p. 94, 1. 1—24 ; p. 96, 1. 6— p. 98, 1. 13 (the reader should take
note that the matter in § 2 is rearranged) ; § 3, except p. 100, 1. 10 — 33,
which now stand as a note to § 2 ; § 4 to p. 101, 1. 34 ; p. 103, 1. 18 to end
of chapter.
BOOK II.
Chapter i. p. 109, 1. 4—11 ; 1. 24—34 ; p. 110, 1. 32—39.
Chap. ii. p. Ill, 1. 1—21 ; p. 112, 1. 4—15 ; § 2 to p. 114, 1. 7 ; p. 114,
1. 23—31 ; p. 115, 1. 8— p. 116, 1. 9.
Chap. iii. (The reader should note the changed arrangement of the
matter in uus cnapter.) p. 118, 1. 37— p. 119, 1. 14; p. 120, 1. *20— 28; p.
121, 1. 9—16; 1. 30—33; p. 122, 1. 26—35; p. 124, 1. 28— p. 126, 1. 18; p.
129, 1. 17— p. 130, 1. 5 ; p. 131, 1. 10— p. 132, 1. 20 ; p. 132, 1. 30—35.
Vlll PREFACE.
Chap. iv. p. 136, 1. 1—19 ; p. 136, 1. 28— p. 137, 1. 2; p. 137, 1. 26—29 ;
1. 35—39 ; p. 138, L 23—38 ; p. 141, 1. 33— p. 142, 1. 7.
Chap. v. p. 146, 1. 1—10 ; p. 147, 1. 17—32; p. 147, 1. 36— p. 148, 1. 4;
p. 148, L 31— p. 149, 1. 7; p. 149, 1. 36— p. 150, 1. 17; p. 150, 1. 29—34;
p. 151, 1. 9—21 ; p. 152, 1. 1—14; p. 153, 1. 16—30; p. 154, 1. 29— p. 155,
1. 16; p. 155, 1. 31— p. 156, 1. 5; p. 156, 1. 16—22 ; 1. 25—35; p. 159, 1. 8— p.
160, 1. 21.
Chap. vi. pp. 162, 163 and 166 are omitted, and the matter rearranged
in the manner explained below.
BOOK III.
Chapter i. p. 176, 1. 20— p. 181, 1. 13 ; p. 183, 1. 6— p. 185, 1. 26 (except
p. 184, 1. 16—33 which are placed earlier in § 2) ; p. 186, 1. 13—32.
Chap. ii. p. 191, 1. 3—18 ; p. 191, 1. 39— p. 195, 1. 4.
EKEATA IN SUPPLEMENT.
p. 13, 1. 37, for "But" read "p. 26, 1. 8. The'
p. 36, 1. 11, insert "p. 64, 1. 12"
p. 37, 1. 11, insert " p. 67, 1. 1 "
p. 38, 1. 25, before "Butler" insert "p. 75, 1. 12"
p. 40, 1. 1, for "p. 87, 1. 4" read "p. 84, 1. 5"
p. 74, L 1, for "p. 143, 1. 19" read "p. 143, 1. 21"
THE METHODS OF ETHICS.
BOOK I.
CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTION.
§ 1 (p. 1, 1. 13). ... An objection is sometimes taken to the
application of the term 'Science' to such studies as these. It is
said that a Science must necessarily have some department of
actual existence for its subject-matter : and there is no doubt
that the term Ethical Science might, according to usage, denote
studies that deal with the actually existent: viz. either the
department of Psychology that deals with pleasures and pains,
desires and volitions, moral sentiments and judgments, as actual
phenomena of individual human minds ; or the department of
Sociology dealing with similar phenomena, as exhibited by the
larger organizations of which individual human beings are ele
ments. We observe, however, that comparatively few persons
pursue these studies from pure curiosity, in order merely to
ascertain what actually exists, has existed, or will exist in time.
Most men wish not only to understand human action, but also to
regulate it ; they apply the ideas ' good ' and * bad,' ' right ' and
'wrong,' to the conduct or institutions which they describe;
and thus pass, as I should say, from the point of view of
Psychology or Sociology to the point of view of Ethics or
Politics. It is true that the mutual implication of the two
kinds of study is, on any theory, very close and complete,
though the precise nature and extent of their connexion is
s. 1
2 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK I.
very differently conceived in different systems, as will hereafter
appear. But, on any theory, our view of what ought to be,
must be largely derived, in details, from our apprehension of
what is; the means of realizing our ideal can only be thoroughly
learnt by a careful study of actual phenomena; and to any
individual asking himself ' What ought I to do or aim at ? '
it is important to examine the answers which his fellow-men
have actually given to similar questions. Still it seems clear
that an attempt to ascertain the general laws or uniformities
by which the varieties of human conduct, and of men's senti
ments and judgments respecting conduct, may be explained, is
essentially different from an attempt to determine which
among these varieties of conduct is right and which of these
divergent judgments valid. It is, then, the systematic con
sideration of these latter questions which coDstitutes the special
and distinct aim of Ethics and Politics : and it is merely a
verbal question whether we shall apply the name ' science'
to such systematic studies ; though it is, of course, important
that we should not confound them with the positive inquiries
to which they bear respectively so close a relation.
§ 2 (p. 3, 1. 9). ... On the other hand, the conception of Ethics
as essentially an investigation of the Summum Bonum of Man
and the means of attaining it is not generally applicable, with-,
out straining, to the view of Morality which we may conveniently
distinguish as the Intuitional view ; according to which conduct
is held to be right when conformed to certain precepts or prin
ciples of Duty, intuitively known to be unconditionally binding.
In this case we can only regard the conception of Ultimate Good
as fundamentally important in the determination of Right con
duct if we identify the two notions and say that Right conduct
is itself the sole Ultimate Good for man. But this identifica
tion would not, I conceive, accord with the moral common sense
of modern Christian communities; nor would it be ordinarily
made by those who, in such communities have held the Intu
itional view of Ethics. The majority of such persons would
consider that the notion of human Good or Well-being must
include the attainment of Happiness as well as the performance
of Duty; even while denying that it is reasonable for men to
make their performance of Duty conditional on their knowledge
CHAP. I.] INTRODUCTION. 3
of its couducivcness to Happiness. Or, to put it otherwise,
they would hold that what men ought to take as the practically
ultimate end of their action is not identical with what we may
call its really ultimate or Divine End ; the former being often
entirely realised in the action itself, while the latter includes
ulterior consequences : so that, in such cases, though some con
ception of these consequences may be indispensable to the
completeness of an ethical system, it cannot be important for
the methodical determination of Right conduct.
§ 3 (p. 4, 1. 29). ...It is therefore interesting to inquire why
this is not the case in Ethics ; why we do not similarly start
with certain premises as to what ought to be done or sought
without considering the faculty by which we apprehend their
truth.
(p. 5, 1. 14). ...One explanation that may be offered is that,
since we are moved to action not by Reason alone but also by
desires and inclinations that operate independently of reason,
the answer which we really want to the question ' why ' is one
which does not merely prove a certain action to be right, but
also is accompanied by a predominant inclination to do it.
That this explanation is true for some minds in some moods
I would not deny. Still I cannot but think that when a man
asks 'why he should do' anything, he commonly assumes in
himself a determination to pursue whatever conduct may be
shown to be reasonable, even though it be very different
from that to which his non-rational inclinations may prompt.
And we are generally agreed that reasonable conduct in any
case has to be determined on principles, in applying which
the agent's inclination — as it exists apart from such deter
mination — is only one element among several that have to be
considered, and commonly not the most important element....
(p. 7, 1. 27). Similarly, many Utilitarians hold all the rules of ,
conduct which men prescribe to one another as moral rules, to be \
partly consciously and partly unconsciously prescribed as means j
to the end of the happiness of the community. But here again
it would seem to be the common view that while the rules are
relative, the end is unconditionally prescribed. Indeed it seems
more obviously held that we ought to seek the happiness of the
community than that we ' ought ' to seek our own ; for in the
1—2
4 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK I.
case of a man's own happiness it may be said with a semblance
of truth that the idea of ' ought ' is inapplicable to that which,
according to a psychological law that has no exceptions, is always
the end and aim of his voluntary actions1. But it is not simi
larly thought that all men, by a universal law of their nature,
are always aiming at the general happiness.
At the same time, it is not necessary, in the methodical in
vestigation of right conduct, considered relatively to the end
either of private or of general happiness, to assume that the end
itself is determined or prescribed by reason : we only require to
assume, in reasoning to cogent practical conclusions, that it is
generally or widely adopted as ultimate and paramount. For if
a man accepts any end as ultimate and paramount, he accepts
implicitly as his " method of ethics " whatever process of reason
ing enables us to determine the conduct most conducive to this
end. Since, however, to every difference in the end accepted at
least some difference in method will generally correspond : if all
the ends which men have practically adopted as ultimate, sub
ordinating everything else to the attainment of them (under the
influence of 'ruling passions'), were taken as principles for which
the student of ethics is called upon to construct rational methods,
his task would be very complex and extensive. But if we
confine ourselves to such ends as the common sense of mankind
appears to accept as reasonable ultimate ends, the task is reduced,
I think, within manageable limits; since this criterion will
exclude at least many of the objects which men practically seem
to regard as paramount. Thus many men sacrifice health,
fortune, happiness, to Fame ; but no one, so far as I know, has
deliberately maintained that Fame is an object which it is
reasonable for men to seek for its own sake : it only commends
itself to reflective persons either (1) on account of the Happiness
derived from it, or (2) because it attests Excellence of some kind
already attained by the famous person, and at the same time
stimulates him to the attainment of further excellence in the
future. Whether there are any ends besides these two, which it
is reasonable to regard as ultimate, it will hereafter be an im
portant part of our business to investigate : but we may perhaps
1 In a subsequent chapter (iii.) I shall try to shew that this objection has
really no practical force.
CHAP. L] INTRODUCTION. 5
say that primd facie the only two ends which clearly claim to
be rational ends, are the two just mentioned, Happiness and
Perfection or Excellence of human nature ; identifying with per
fect or excellent existence the vaguer . terms Wellbeing or
Welfare, so far as they are interpreted as meaning something
distinct from Happiness. And we must observe that the adop
tion of the former of these ends leads us to two primd facie
distinct methods, according as it is sought to be realized
universally, or by each inclividual for himself alone....
(p. 9, 1. 1). The case seems to be otherwise with Perfection.
At first sight, indeed, the same alternatives present themselves1:
it seems that the Perfection aimed at may be taken either in
dividually or universally ; and circumstances are conceivable in
which a man is not unlikely to think that he could best promote
the Perfection of others by sacrificing his own. But no moralist has
ever approved of such sacrifice, at least so far as Moral Perfection
is concerned ; no one has ever directed an individual to promote
the virtue of others except in so far as this promotion is com
patible with, or rather involved in, the complete realization of
I Virtue in himself2. So far, then, there is no primd facie need of
I separating the method of determining right conduct which takes
I the Perfection of the individual as the ultimate end from that
' which aims at the Perfection of the human community. And
since Virtue is commonly conceived as the most valuable element
of human Perfection or Excellence ; while again the realization
of Virtue is commonly thought (by those who reject Utilita
rianism) to consist mainly in the complete observance of certain
absolute rules of Duty, intuitively known ; any method which
takes Perfection or Excellence of human nature as ultimate End
will primd facie coincide to a great extent with that which
1 It may be said that even more divergent views of the reasonable end are
possible here than in the case of happiness : for we are not necessarily limited (as
in that case) to the consideration of sentient beings : inanimate things also seem
to have a perfection and excellence of their own and to be capable of being made
better or worse in their kind ; and this perfection, or one species of it, appears
to be the end of the Fine Arts. But reflection I think shews that neither beauty
nor any other quality of inanimate objects can be regarded as good or desirable
in itself, out of relation to the perfection or happiness of sentient beings. Cf.
2>ost, c. ix.
2 Kant roundly denies that it can be my duty to take the Perfection of others
for my end : but his argument is not, I think, valid. Cf. post, B. in., c. iv. § 1.
6 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK I.
systematizes and developes what I have before called the
Intuitional view : and I have accordingly treated it as a special
form of this latter.
§5 (p. 10,1. 28)...
The impulses or principles from which the different methods
take their rise, the different claims of different ends to be
rational, are admitted, to some extent, by all minds.
(p. 11, 1. 37)...
I have refrained from attempting any such complete and
final solution of the chief ethical difficulties and controversies
as would convert this exposition of various methods into the
development of a harmonious system.
(p. 13, 1. 11...) My object, then, in the present work, is to
expound as clearly and as fully as my limits will allow, the
different methods of Ethics that I find implicit in our common
moral reasoning ; to point out their mutual relations ; and
where they seem to conflict, to define the issue as much as
possible. In the course of this endeavour I am led to discuss
the considerations which should, in my opinion, be decisive in
determining the adoption of ethical first principles: but it is
not my primary aim to establish such principles ; nor, again, is
it my primary aim to supply a set of rules for conduct.
CHAPTEE II.
THE RELATION OF ETHICS TO POLITICS.
§1 (p. 15,1. 31).
. . . Let us assume, then, that Ideal Law is to be framed on
Utilitarian principles, and consider what its relation will be to
Morality similarly constructed. It is evident, in the first place,
that the question, what rules of conduct and modes of distri
buting objects of desire should be legally fixed and enforced, will
be determined by the same kind of forecast of consequences as
will be used in settling all moral questions : we shall endeavour
to estimate and balance against each other the effects of such
enforcement on the aggregate pleasures and pains of indi
viduals....
(p. 18, 1. 1). I have treated this subject first from the utili
tarian point of view, because Utilitarianism — at least of a loose
and popular sort — seems to be now~commonly accepted in Politics
to a much greater extent than it is in the sphere of private
conduct : many who recognize absolute rules of private duty,
to be obeyed without regard to consequences, still hold that it is
a question of expediency what actions and abstinences morally
right or allowable should be made compulsory under legal
penalties ; and similarly that the right form of government
for any society is to be determined on grounds of expediency
only. At the same time, we still find in current political
thought — even in England — an Intuitional method of Politics,
which lays down a priori certain absolute rights, which it
should be the primary end of civil law in any community
8 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BooKl.
to maintain ; just as Intuitional Ethics lays down absolute
duties for private individuals. And further, since among these
' natural rights ' is reckoned the Right to Freedom, limited
only by the equal freedom of others — indeed by many (as
Kant) the Right to Freedom is held to include all truly
natural rights — it is inferred by the same method that no
man is originally and ' naturally' bound to obey any other :
and thus we get as the fundamental principle of a true con
stitutional code, that the Right of Government to exist and
operate must be derived from the consent of its subjects to
a limitation of their natural rights. On this view, the main
questions to be asked, in considering the legitimacy of any
form of government, are, firstly, how far these natural rights
are alienable, and secondly how the consent of the members
of any society to their partial alienation may be inferred ; we
must observe, however, that in more or less distinct oppo
sition to this last view it was once held, and the doctrine
still lingers, that the natural right of government in any
society is vested, as a kind of heritable though not trans
ferable property, in the persons belonging to a particular line
of descent.
But both the theory of hereditary rights of monarchs, and the
theory of a Law of Nature by which all persons have rights prior
to the social compact that binds them into a community, are re
garded as more or less antiquated by most educated Englishmen
(at the present day. The political views now chiefly opposed
to Utilitarianism are those which take the Perfection of
Society — or Social Welfare or Wellbeing interpreted other
wise than hedonistically — as the ultimate end in Politics as
v well as in Ethics. According to any such view, the connexion
between Politics and Ethics is naturally very close ; since on
the one hand the Duty or Virtue of any individual is held
to consist essentially in the performance of his function as
a member of a 'social organism' in such a manner as to
realise or effectively promote the Wellbeing of the whole
organism ; while on the other hand a certain kind of political
order is generally held to be an indispensable condition or
constituent of such Wellbeing. The degree, however, of separa
tion between the two studies, and their mutual relations of
CHAP. II.] THE RELATION OF ETHICS TO POLITICS. 9
dependence or priority, can hardly be determined without a
clearer conception than I can here attempt to give of that
Wellbeing or Welfare which is not Happiness1.
§ 2. There are, however, thinkers who regard Ethics as
dependent on Politics in a manner quite different from any
that has yet been discussed : viz. as being an % investigation
not of what ought to be done here and now, but of what ought
to be the rules of behaviour in an ideal society. So that the
subject-matter of our science would be doubly ideal : as it
would not only prescribe what ought to be done as distinct
from what is, but what ought to be done in a society that
itself is not, but only ought to be. Those who take this view2
adduce the analogy of Geometry to shew that Ethics ought
to deal with ideally perfect human relations, just as Geometry
treats of ideally straight lines and perfect circles. But the
irregular lines which we meet with in experience have spatial
relations which Geometry does not ignore altogether ; . it can and
does ascertain them with a sufficient degree of accuracy for
1 Some further discussion of this question will be found in Book in.,
chap. xiv.
2 In writing this section I had primarily in view the doctrine set forth in
Mr Spencer's Social Statics. As Mr Spencer has restated his view and replied to
my arguments in his Data of Ethics, it is necessary for me to point out that the
first paragraph of this section is not directed against such a view of ' Absolute '
and 'Kelative' Ethics as is given in the later treatise — which seems to me to
differ materially from the doctrine of Social Statics. In Social Statics it is main
tained not merely — as in the Data of Ethics — that Absolute Ethics which
"formulates normal conduct in an ideal society" ought to "take precedence
of Relative Ethics" ; but that Absolute Ethics is the only kind of Ethics with
which a philosophical moralist can possibly concern himself. To quote Mr
Spencer's words:— " Any proposed system of morals which recognizes existing
defects, and countenances acts made needful by them, stands self-condemned...
Moral law... requires as its postulate that human beings be perfect. The philo
sophical moralist treats solely of the straight man... shews in what relationship
he stands to other straight men... a problem in which a crooked man forms one of
the elements, is insoluble by him". Social Statics (c. i.). Still more definitely is
llelative Ethics excluded in the following passage of the concluding chapter of
the same treatise (the italics are mine): — "It will very likely be urged that,
whereas the perfect moral code is confessedly beyond the fulfilment of imper
fect men, some other code is needful for our present guidance... to say that the
imperfect man requires a moral code which recognizes his imperfection and
allows for it, seems at first sight reasonable. But it is not really so... a system of
morals which shall recognize man's present imperfections and allow for them
cannot be devised; and would be useless if it could be devised."
10 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK I.
practical purposes : though of course they are more complex
than those of perfectly straight lines.
(p. 20, 1. 27)... It is generally held by Intuitionists that
true morality prescribes absolutely what is in itself right, under
all social conditions ; at least as far as determinate duties are
concerned : as (e.g.} that * Truth should always be spoken' and
' Justice be done, though the sky should fall.' And so far as
this is held it would seem that there can be no fundamental
distinction drawn, in the determination of duty, between the
actual and an ideal state of society : at any rate the general
definition of (e.g.) Justice will be the same for both, no less
than its absolute stringency — though I suppose even an ex
treme Intuitionist would admit that the details of this and
other duties will vary with social institutions.
(p. 21, 1. 8). For as in ordinary deliberation we have to
consider what is best under certain conditions of human life,
internal or external, so we must do this in contemplating the
ideal society. We require to contemplate not so much the end
supposed to be attained — which is simply the most pleasant
consciousness conceivable, lasting as long and as uninterruptedly
as possible — but rather some method of realizing it, pursued by
human beings ; and these, again, must be conceived as existing
under conditions not too remote from our own, so that we can
at least endeavour to imitate them.
(p. 22, 1. 13)... In the one case the ideal involves a great
extension and systematization of the arbitrary and casual alms
giving that now goes on : in the other case, its extinction.
^CHAPTER III.
REASON AND FEELING.
§ 1. IN the first chapter I spoke of actions that we judge
to be right and what ought to be done as being "reasonable," or
"rational," and similarly of ultimate ends as "prescribed by
Reason " : and I contrasted the motive to action supplied by
the recognition of such reasonableness with " non-rational " de
sires and inclinations.... On the other hand it is widely main
tained that, as Hume says, "Reason, meaning the judgment
of truth and falsehood, can never of itself be any motive to the
Will" — the motive to action being in all cases some feeling
similar to what I have characterized as Non-rational Desire.
It seems desirable to examine with some care the grounds of
this contention, before we proceed any further.
Let us begin by defining the issue raised, as clearly as
possible. Every one, I suppose, has had experience of what is
meant by the conflict of non-rational or irrational desires with
reason^ most of us (e. g.) occasionally feel bodily appetite
prompting us to indulgences which we judge to be imprudent,
and anger prompting us to acts of which we disapprove as unjust
or unkind. It is when this conflict occurs that the desires are
said to be irrational, as impelling us to volitions opposed to our
deliberate judgments : sometimes we yield to such seductive
impulses, and sometimes not : and it is perhaps when we do not
yield, that the impulsive force of such irrational desires is most
definitely felt, as we have to exert in resisting them a voluntary
effort somewhat analogous to that involved in any muscular ex
ertion. Often, again, — since we are not always thinking either
of our duty or of our interest, — desires of this kind take effect in
12 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK I.
voluntary actions without our having judged such actions to be
either right or wrong, either prudent or imprudent ; as (e. g.)
when an ordinary eupeptic person ea,ts his dinner. In such
cases it seems most appropriate to call the desires " non-rational "
rather than " irrational." Neither term is intended to imply
that the desires spoken of — or at least the more important of
them — are not normally accompanied by rational or intellectual
processes. It is true that some impulses to action seem to take ef
fect " instinctively/' as we say, without any definite consciousness
either of the end at which the action is aimed, or of the means by
which the end is to be attained : but this, I conceive, is only the
case with impulses that do not occupy consciousness for an ap
preciable time, and do not require any but very familiar and
habitual actions for the attainment of their proximate ends. In
all other cases — that is, in the case of all the actions with which
we are chiefly concerned in ethical discussion — the result aimed
at, and usually some part at least of the means by which it is to
be realized, are more or less distinctly represented in conscious
ness, previous to the volition that initiates the movements tend
ing to its realization. Hence the resultant forces of what I call
"non-rational" desires, and the volitions to which they prompt,
are continually modified by intellectual processes in two distinct
ways ; first by new perceptions or representations of means con
ducive to the desired ends, and secondly by new presentations
or representations of facts — either as actually existing, or as
more or less probable consequences of contemplated actions —
which rouse new impulses of desire and aversion.
The question, then, is whether this account of the influence
of reason on desire and volition is not exhaustive ; and whether
the experience which is commonly described as a " conflict of
desire with reason " is not more properly conceived as a conflict
among desires and aversions ; the sole function of reason being
to bring before the mind ideas of actual or possible facts, which
modify in the manner above described the resultant force of our
various impulses.
I hold that this is not the case ; that the ordinary moral
or prudential judgments which, intKe case of all or most minds
have a certain — though too often not a predominant — influence
on volition, cannot legitimately be interpreted as judgments
CHAP. III.] REASON AND FEELING. 13
respecting the present or future existence of human feelings
or other facts of experience ; the notion " ought " or " right,"
which in some form or other such judgments contain, being
essentially different from all notions representing empirical
I facts. The question is one on which appeal must ultimately be
made to the reflection of individuals on their practical judgments
and reasonings: and in making this appeal it seems most conve
nient to begin by shewing the inadequacy of all attempts to
explain the practical judgments or propositions in which the
notion " ought " is introduced, without recognizing its unique
character as above negatively defined. There is an element of
truth in such explanations, in so far as they bring into view
feelings which undoubtedly accompany moral or prudential
judgments, and which ordinarily have more or less effect in
determining the will to actions judged to be right ; but so far
as they profess to be interpretations of what such judgments
mean, they appear to me to fail altogether.
In considering this question it will, I think, conduce to
clearness to take separately the two species of judgments which
I have distinguished as " moral " and " prudential " respectively ;
since though it is widely held that the ultimate obligation of
all rules of duty must be rested on the self-interest of the
individual to whom they are addressed — so that all valid moral
rules have ultimately a prudential basis — it seems clear that in
I ordinary thought cognitions or judgments of duty present
I themselves as primd facie distinct from cognitions or judgments
I as to what conduces to self-interest.
To begin then with the former, i. e. with moral judgments in
the narrower sense : it is maintained by some that the judg
ments or propositions which we commonly call moral really
affirm no more than the existence of a specific emotion in the
mind of the person who utters them : that when I say ' Truth
ought to be spoken' or ' Truthspeaking is right/ I mean no
more than that the idea of truthspeaking excites in my mind a
feeling of approbation. And probably some degree of such
emotion, commonly distinguished as ' moral sentiment,' always
. or ordinarily accompanies moral judgment. But the peculiar
I emotion of moral approbation is, in my experience, inseparably
J bound up with the conviction, implicit or explicit, that the
14 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK I.
conduct approved is ' objectively ' right — i.e. that it cannot,
without error, be disapproved by any other mind.
§ 2 (p. 27, 1. 31). ... In the case of positive law the con
nexion of ' obligation ' and ' punishment ' seems indissoluble : a
law cannot be properly said to be actually established in a
society if it is habitually violated with impunity. But a more
careful reflection on the relation of Law to Morality, as ordi
narily conceived, seems to shew that it really affords no argu
ment for the interpretation of ought' that I am now discussing.
For the ideal distinction taken in common thought between
legal and merely moral rules seems to lie in just this con
nexion of the former with punishment : we think that there
are some things which a man ought to be compelled to do,
or forbear, and others which he ought to do or forbear without
compulsion, and that the former alone fall properly within the
sphere of law. And it is otherwise evident that what we mean
when we say that a man is " morally though not legally bound"
to do a thing is not merely that he " will be punished by public
opinion if he does not" : for we often join the two statements,
clearly distinguishing their import : and further (since public
opinion is known to be eminently fallible) there are many
things which we judge men 'ought' to do, while perfectly
aware that they will incur no serious social penalties for omit
ting them. In such cases, indeed, it would be commonly said
that social disapprobation 'ought* to follow on immoral con
duct; and in this very assertion it is clear that the term
'ought' cannot mean that social penalties • are to be feared by
those who do not disapprove. Again, all or most men in whom
the moral consciousness is strongly developed find themselves
from time to time in conflict with the commonly received
morality of the society to which they belong: and thus — as
was before said — have a crucial experience proving that duty
does not mean to them what other men will disapprove of them
for not doing.
At the same time I admit, as indeed I have already sug
gested in § 3 of chap. I., that we not unfrequently pass judg
ments resembling moral judgments in form, and not distin
guished from them in ordinary thought, in cases where the
obligation affirmed is found, on reflection, to depend on the
CHAP/IH.] REASON AND FEELING. 15
existence of current opinions and sentiments as such. The
members of modern civilised societies are under the sway of a
code of Public Opinion, enforced by social penalties, which no
reflective person obeying it identifies with the moral code, or
regards as unconditionally binding : indeed the code is mani
festly fluctuating and variable, different at the same time in
different classes, professions, social circles, of the same political
community. Such a code always supports to a considerable
extent the commonly received code of morality: and most
reflective persons think it generally reasonable to conform to
the dictates of public opinion — to the Code of Honour, we may
say, in graver matters, or the Code of Politeness or Good Breed
ing in lighter matters — wherever they do not positively conflict
with morality ; either on grounds of private interest, or because
they think it conducive to general happiness or wellbeing to
keep as much as possible in harmony with their fellow-men....
(p. 29, after 1. 19). There is, however, another way of
interpreting ' ought ' as connoting penalties, which is some
what less easy to meet by a crucial psychological experiment.
I The moral imperative may be taken to be a law of God,
* to the breach of which Divine penalties are annexed ; and
these, no doubt, in a Christian society, are commonly con
ceived to be adequate and universally applicable. Still, it
can hardly be said that this belief is shared by all the
persons whose conduct is influenced by independent moral con
victions, occasionally unsupported either by the law or the
public opinion of their community. And even in the case
of many of those who believe fully in the moral government
of the world, the judgment " I ought to do this " cannot be
identified with the judgment " God will punish me if I do
not"; since the conviction that the former proposition is true
is distinctly recognized as an important part of the grounds for
believing the latter. Again, when Christians speak — as they
commonly do — of the 'justice' (or other moral attributes) of
God, as exhibited in punishing sinners and rewarding the
righteous, they obviously imply not merely that God will thus
punish and reward, but that it is 'right'1 for Him to do so:
1 ' Ought ' is here inapplicable, for a reason presently explained.
16 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK I.
which, of course, cannot be taken to mean that He is ' bound
under penalties.'
§ 3. It seems then that the notion of ' ought ' or ' moral
obligation ' as used in our common moral judgments, does not
merely import (1) that there exists in the mind of the person
judging a specific emotion (whether complicated or not by
sympathetic representation of similar emotions in other minds) ;
i nor (2) that certain rules of conduct are supported by penalties
which will follow on their violation (whether such penalties
result from the general liking or aversion felt for the conduct
j prescribed or forbidden, or from some other source). What
' then, it may be asked, does it import ? What definition can
we give of ' ought,' ' right,' and other terms expressing the same
x fundamental notion? To this it may be answered that the
notion is too elementary to admit of any formal definition ; it
can only be made clearer by determining its relation to other
notions with which it is connected in ordinary thought, espe
cially to those with which it is liable to be confounded. If
however it appears that what the questioner wants is really
a complete account of the relation of Morality to other objects
of knowledge, we must add that it does not belong to Ethics
to furnish this, but to some more comprehensive science : at
any rate this task is not undertaken in the present treatise,
j which only attempts to methodize oar practical judgments and
reasonings, in which this fundamental notion must, I conceive,
\ be taken as ultimate and unanalysable, r r~
We have, however, to distinguish two different implications
with wrhich the term is used ; according as the result which we
judge ' ought to be ' is or is not thought capable of being brought
about by the volition of any individual, in the circumstances to
which the judgment applies. The former alternative is, I con
ceive, implied by the strictly ethical ' ought :' in the narrowest
| ethical sense I cannot conceive that I ' ought ' to do anything
which at the same time I judge that I cannot do. In a wider
sense, however, — which cannot conveniently be discarded in
ordinary discourse — I sometimes judge that I 'ought' to know
what a wiser man would know, or feel as a better man would
feel, in my place, though I may know that I could not directly
produce in myself such knowledge or feeling by any effort of
CHAP. III.] REASON AND FEELING. 17
will. In this case the word merely implies an ideal or pattern
which I ' ought ' — in the stricter sense — to seek to imitate as
far as possible. And this wider sense seems to be that in which
the word is normally used in the precepts of Art generally, and
in political judgments : when I judge that the laws and consti
tution of my country ' ought to be ' other than they are, I do
not of course imply that my own or any other individual's single
volition can directly bring about the change *. In either case,
however, I imply — as has been before said — that the judgment
is objective2 : i. e. that what I judge " right " or " what ought to
be " must, unless I am in error, be thought to be so by all
rational beings who judge truly of the matter.
I In referring such judgments to the ' Reason,' I mean to
imply no more than just this 'objectivity.' I do not mean to
imply that valid moral judgments can only be attained by a
process of reasoning from universal principles, and not by direct
intuition of the particular duties of individuals. At the same
time it must be admitted that this latter implication would natu
rally be suggested by the use of the term ' Reason ' in other
departments of thought. We do not commonly say that par
ticular physical facts are apprehended by the Reason : we con
sider this faculty to be conversant in its discursive operation
. with the relation of judgments or propositions : and the intuitive
j reason (which is here rather in question) we restrict to the
• apprehension of universal truths, such as the axioms of Logic
i and Mathematics. Now, as I shall presently observe, it is not
uncommonly held that the moral faculty deals primarily with
individual cases, applying directly to these the general notion
of duty, and deciding intuitively what ought to be done by this
person in these particular circumstances. On this view the
apprehension of moral truth is more analogous to Sense-percep-
1 I do not even imply that any combination of individuals could completely
realize the state of political relations which I conceive ' ought to ' exist. My
conception would be futile if it had no relation to practice : but it may merely
delineate a pattern to which no more than an approximation is practically
possible.
2 There are certain difficulties or ambiguities involved in the application of
the term "objective" to right conduct, which I shall discuss later (Book in.
chap. i. § 3). But these do not, in my opinion, necessitate any modification of
the simple account of the meaning of the term which I have given in the text.
S. 2
1 8 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK I.
tion than to Rational Intuition (as commonly understood) : and
hence the term Moral Sense might seem more appropriate. But
the term sense suggests a capacity for feelings which may vary
from A to B without either being in error, rather than a faculty
of objective cognition 1 : hence it has seemed to me better
to use the term Reason as above explained, to denote merely
such a faculty, without restricting it to universal cognitions 2.
Further, when I speak of the cognition or judgment that
/* X ought to be done ' — in the stricter ethical sense of the term
ought 3 — as a ' dictate ' or ' precept ' of reason to the persons to
whom it relates ; I imply that in rational beings as such this
cognition gives an impulse or motive to action : though in
human beings, of course, this is only one motive among others
which are liable to conflict with it, and is not always — perhaps
not usually — a predominant motive....
§ 4. I am aware that some persons will be disposed to
answer all the preceding argument by a simple denial that
they can find in their consciousness any such absolute impera
tive as I have been trying to exhibit. If this is really the
final result of self-examination in any case, there is no more
to be said. I, at least, do not know how to impart the notion of
moral obligation to any one who is entirely devoid of it. I
think, however, that many of those who give this denial only
mean to deny that they have any consciousness of moral obliga
tion to actions per se without reference to their consequences ;
and would not deny that they recognize some universal end or
ends: — whether it be the general happiness, or well-being other
wise understood — as that at which it is ultimately reasonable to
aim, subordinating the gratification of personal desires to its
attainment. But in this view, as I have before said, it appears
to me that the unconditional imperative really comes in as re
gards the end ; it is implicitly recognized as an end at which all
1 By cognition I always mean what some would rather call " apparent cogni
tion," that is, I do not mean to affirm the validity of the cognition, but only its
existence as a psychical fact.
2 A further justification for this extended use of the term Reason will be
suggested in a subsequent chapter (ch. viii. § 3).
3 This is the sense in which the term will always be used in the present
treatise, except where the context makes it quite clear that only the wider mean
ing—that of the political « ought '—is applicable.
CHAP. III.] REASON AND FEELING. 19
men ' ought ' to aim ; and it can hardly be denied that the re
cognition of an end as ultimately reasonable involves the recog
nition of an obligation to do such acts as most conduce to the
end. The obligation is not indeed " unconditional," but it does
not depend on the existence of any non-rational desires or aver
sions. And nothing that has been said in the preceding section
is intended as an argument in favour of Intuitionism, as against
Utilitarianism or any other method that treats moral rules as
relative to General Good or Well-being. For instance, nothing
that I have said is inconsistent with the view that Truthspeaking
is only valuable as a means to the preservation of society: only if it
be admitted that it is valuable on this ground I should say that it
is implied that the preservation of society — or some further end
to which this preservation, again, is a means — must be valuable
per se, and therefore something at which a rational being, as such,
ought to aim. If it be granted that we need not look beyond
the preservation of society, the primary ' dictate of reason/ in this
case would be ' that society ought to be preserved :' but reason
would also dictate truthspeaking, so far as truthspeaking is
recognized as the indispensable or fittest means to this end.
So again, even those who hold that moral rules are only
obligatory because it is the individual's interest to conform to
them — thus regarding them as a particular species of prudential
rules — do not thereby get rid of the ' dictate of reason/ so far as
they recognize private interest or happiness as an end at which
it is ultimately reasonable to aim. The conflict of Practical
Reason with irrational desire remains an indubitable fact of our
conscious experience, even if practical reason is interpreted to
mean merely self-regarding Prudence. It is, indeed, maintained
by Kant and others that it cannot properly be said to be a
man's duty to promote his own happiness ; since " what every
one inevitably wills cannot be brought under the notion of
duty." But even granting1 it to be in some sense true that a
man's volition is always directed to the attainment of his own
happiness : it does not follow that a man always does what he
believes will be conducive to his own greatest happiness, or
his 'good on the whole.' As Butler urges, it is a matter of
1 As will be seen from the next chapter, I do not grant this.
9 9
20 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK I.
common experience that men indulge appetite or passion even
when, in their own view, the indulgence is as clearly opposed to
what they conceive to be their interest as it is to what they
conceive to be their duty. " Video meliora proboque, deteribra
sequor" is as applicable to the Epicurean as it is to any one
(else : and in recognizing that he ' chooses the worse/ a man
implicitly, if not explicitly, recognizes that he ought to choose
something else.
Even, finally, if we discard the belief, that any end of action
is unconditionally or " categorically " prescribed by reason, the
notion 'ought' as above explained is not thereby eliminated
from our practical reasonings : it still remains in the " hypo
thetical imperative " which prescribes the fittest means to any
end that we may have determined to aim at. When (e.g.) a
physician says, " If you wish to be healthy you ought to rise
early," this is not the same thing as saying " early rising is an
indispensable condition of the attainment of health." This
latter proposition expresses the relation of physiological facts on
which the former is founded ; but it is not merely this relation
of facts that the word " ought " imports : it also implies the
unreasonableness of adopting an end and refusing to adopt the
means indispensable to its attainment. It may perhaps be
argued that this is not only unreasonable but impossible : since
adoption of an end means the preponderance of a desire for it,
and if aversion to the indispensable means causes them not to
be adopted although recognized as indispensable, the desire for
the end is not preponderant and it ceases to be adopted. But
this view is due, in my opinion, to a defective psychological
analyses. According to my observation of consciousness, the
adoption of an end as paramount — either absolutely or within
certain limits — is quite a distinct psychical phenomenon from
desire : it is to be classed with volitions, though it is, of course,
specifically different from a volition initiating a particular im
mediate action. As a species intermediate between the two,
we may place resolutions to act in a certain way at some future
time : we continually make such resolutions, and sometimes
when the time comes for carrying them out, we do in fact act
otherwise under the influence of passion or mere habit, without
consciously cancelling our previous resolve : in this case the act
.CHAP. III.] REASON AND FEELING. 21
is, I conceive, clearly irrational as inconsistent with a resolution
that still persists in thought. Similarly the adoption of an end
logically implies a resolution to take whatever means we may
see to be indispensable to its attainment : and if when the time
comes we do not take them while yet we do not consciously
retract our adoption of the end, it must surely be admitted that
we ' ought ' in consistency to act otherwise than we do. That
Reason dictates the avoidance of a contradiction will be allowed
even by those who deny that it dictates anything else : and it
will hardly be maintained that such a contradiction as I have
described, between a general resolution and a particular volition,
is not a matter of common experience.
[§ 4 of the 2nd Edition is omitted, a part of it being transferred
to the discussion of " Good" in cli. ix.]
CHAPTER IV.
PLEASURE AND DESIRE.
§ 1 (p. 35, 1. 9)... There is, however, one view of the
feelings which prompt to voluntary action, which is sometimes
thought to involve a particular theory of the principles on which
such action ought to be regulated, and so to cut short all contro
versy on the fundamental question of ethical method. I mean
the view that volition is always determined by pleasures or
pains actual or prospective. This doctrine — Avhich I may dis
tinguish as Psychological Hedonism — is often connected and
not seldom confounded with the method of Ethics which I
have called Egoistic Hedonism ; and no doubt it is plausible to
infer that if one end of action — my own pleasure or absence of
pain — is definitely determined for me by unvarying psycholo
gical laws, another conflicting end cannot be prescribed for me
by Reason.
Reflection however shews that this inference involves the
unwarranted assumption that my view of my own pleasure is
determined independently of any question as to Rightness or
Reasonableness of Conduct : whereas it is manifestly possible
that our prospect of pleasure resulting from any course of con
duct may largely depend on our conception of it as right or
otherwise : and in fact this must be normally the case with the
conduct of conscientious persons, who habitually act in ac
cordance with their moral convictions, if the psychological
theory above-mentioned is sound. Indeed on looking closer it
rather appears that the adoption of psychological Hedonism in
its extreme quantitative form, is so far from leading logically to
Egoistic Hedonism as an ethical doctrine that it is really in
compatible with it. If it were true, as Bentham1 affirms (with
1 Constitutional Code, Introduction, § 2.
CHAP. IV.] PLEASURE AND DESIRE. 23
the verbose precision of his later style) that "on the occasion of
every act he exercises, every human being is led to pursue
that line of conduct which, according to his view of the case,
taken by him at the moment, will be in the highest degree
contributory to his own greatest happiness1"; the proposition
that a man ' ought' to pursue such conduct is incapable of being
affirmed with any significance. For a psychological law in
variably realized in my conduct does not admit of being con
ceived as a 'precept' or 'dictate' of reason : this latter must be
a rule from which I am conscious of being able to deviate. But
I do not think that the proposition quoted from Bentham
would be affirmed without qualification by any of the writers
who now maintain psychological Hedonism....
(p. 36, last line). And in any case this psychological doc
trine conflicts with the ethical proposition widely held by
persons whose moral consciousness is highly developed : viz.
that an act in the highest sense virtuous must be done for
its own sake and not for the sake of the attendant pleasure,
even if that be the pleasure of the moral sense: and that if I
do an act from the sole desire of obtaining the glow of moral
self-approbation which I believe will attend its performance, the
act will not be truly virtuous. It is clear that if psychological
Hedonism were true this opinion would have to be abandoned.
It seems therefore important to subject this generalization,
even in its more indefinite form, to a careful examination.
§ 2. It will be well to begin by defining more precisely the
terms used and the question at issue. First, there is no doubt
that pleasure is a kind of feeling which stimulates the will to
actions tending to sustain or produce it, — to sustain it, if actually
present, and to produce it, if it be only represented in idea — ; and
similarly pain is a kind of feeling which stimulates as to actions
tending to remove or avert it. These statements, in fact, may
be given as adequate 2 definitions of Pleasure and Pain. It seems
1 I here, as in chap, i., adopt the exact Hedonistic interpretation of 'happi
ness ' which Bentham has made current. This seems to me the most suitable
use of the term ; hut I afterwards (ch. vii. § 1) take note of other uses.
2 Adequate, that is, for the purpose of distinction — whether they are adequate
for the measurement that Ethical Hedonism requires is a question that we shall
have subsequently to consider. Cf. post, Book n. ch. ii. § 2.
24 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK I.
convenient to call the volitional stimulus in the two cases
s respectively Degire and Aversion ; though it should be ob
served that the former term is ordinarily restricted to the
impulse felt when pleasure is not actually present, but only
represented in idea. The question at issue, then, is not
whether pleasure, present or represented, is normally accom
panied by desire for itself, and pain by aversion : but whether
there are no desires and aversions which have not pleasures
and pains for their objects — no conscious impulses to produce
or avert results other than the agent's own feelings. In the
treatise to which I have referred, Mill explains that " desiring
a thing, and finding it pleasant, are, in the strictness of lan
guage, two modes of naming the same psychological fact." If
this be the case, it is hard to see how the proposition we are
discussing requires to be determined by " practised self-con
sciousness and self-observation;" as the denial of it would
involve a contradiction in terms. The truth is that there is
• an ambiguity in the word Pleasure, which has always tended
seriously to confuse the discussion of this question1. When
we speak of a man doing something at his own " pleasure/'
or as he " pleases," we usually signify the mere fact of choice
or preference ; the mere determination of the will in a certain
direction. Now, if by "pleasant" we mean that which in
fluences choice, exercises a certain attractive force on the will,
it is an assertion incontrovertible because tautological, to say
that we desire what is pleasant — or even that we desire a
thing in proportion as it appears pleasant. But if we take
"pleasure" to denote the kind of feelings above defined, it
then becomes a really debateable question whether our desires
are always consciously directed towards the attainment by
ourselves of such feelings. And this is what we must un
derstand Mr Mill to consider " so obvious, that it will hardly
be disputed."...
(p. 38, 1. 28). I will begin by taking an illustration of this
from the impulses commonly placed lowest in the scale. Hunger,
so far as I can observe, is a direct impulse to the eating of food.
1 The confusion occurs in the most singular form in Hobbes, who actually
identifies Pleasure and Appetite, "this motion in which consisteth pleasure, is
a solicitation to draw near to the thing that pleaseth."
CHAP. IV.] PLEASURE AND DESIRE. 25
Such eating is no doubt commonly attended with an agree
able feeling of more or less intensity : but it cannot, I think,
be strictly said that this agreeable feeling is the object of
hunger, and that it is the representation of this pleasure which
stimulates the will of the hungry man as such. Of course
hunger, is frequently and naturally accompanied with anticipa
tion of the pleasure of eating : but careful introspection seems
to shew that the two are by no means inseparable. And even
when they occur together the pleasure seems properly the object
not of the primary appetite, but of a secondary desire which
can be distinguished from the former; since the gourmand, in
whom this secondary desire is strong, is often prompted by it to
actions designed to stimulate hunger, and often, again, is led to
control the primary impulse, in order to prolong and vary the
process of satisfying it.
Indeed it is so obvious that hunger is something different
, from the desire for anticipated pleasure, that some writers have
I regarded its volitional stimulus (and that of appetite generally)
/ as a case of aversion from present pain. This, however, seems
(to me a distinct mistake in psychological classification. In my
ordinary experience, the feeling of hunger is usually what Mr
Bain distinguishes as a neutral excitement; it only becomes
definitely painful in the case of exceptionally prolonged absti
nence from food. No doubt hunger, and desire generally, is a
state of consciousness so far similar to pain, that in both we feel
a stimulus prompting us to pass from the present state into a
different one. But aversion from pain is an impulse to get out
of the present state and pass into some other state which is only
> negatively represented as different from the present: whereas
in desire as such, the primary impulse is towards the realization
/of some positive future result — the desire itself being often not
distinctly either pleasurable or painful, even when it reaches a
high degree of intensity, but rather tending to assume either
quality according to the nature of its concomitants. When a
strong desire is, for any reason, baulked of its effect in causing
action, it is generally painful in some degree
(p. 40, 1. 13). Take, for example, the case of any game which
involves — as most games do — a contest for victory. No or
dinary player before entering on such a contest, has any desire
26 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK I.
for victory in it : indeed he often finds it difficult to imagine
himself deriving gratification from such victory, before he has
actually engaged in the competition. What he deliberately,
before the game begins, desires is not victory, but the pleasant
excitement of the struggle for it; only for the full development
of this pleasure a transient desire to win the game is generally
indispensable. This desire, which does not exist at first, is
stimulated to considerable intensity by the competition itself:
and in proportion as it is thus stimulated both the mere contest
becomes more pleasurable, and the victory, which was originally
indifferent, comes to afford a keen enjoyment.
The same phenomenon is exhibited in the case of more im
portant kinds of pursuit. Thus it often happens that a man,
feeling his life languid and devoid of interests, begins to occupy
himself in the prosecution of some scientific or socially useful
work, for the sake not of the end but of the occupation. At
first, very likely, the occupation is irksome: but soon, as he
foresaw, his sustained exercise of voluntary effort in one direc
tion reacts on his involuntary emotions; so that his pursuit
becoming eager becomes also a source of pleasure....
(p. 45, 1. 4). So far, then, from our conscious active im
pulses being always directed towards the attainment of pleasure
or avoidance of pain for ourselves, it would seem that we find
everywhere in consciousness extra-regarding impulses, directed
towards something that is not pleasure, nor relief from pain....
(p. 46, 1. 8). But again, it is sometimes said that whatever
be the case with our present adult consciousness, our original
impulses were all directed towards pleasure1 or from pain,
and that any impulses otherwise directed are derived from
these by " association of ideas."
1 I must ask the reader to distinguish carefully the question discussed in
this chapter, which relates to the objects of desires and aversions, from the
different question whether the causes of these impulses are always to be found
in antecedent experiences of pleasure and pain. The bearing of this latter ques
tion on Ethics, though not unimportant, is manifestly more indirect than that
of the question here dealt with : and it will be convenient to postpone it till
a later stage of the discussion. Cf. post, Book n. ch. vi. § 2 and Book iv. ch. iv. § 1.
CHAPTEE V.
FREE WILL.
§ 1. IN the preceding chapters I have treated first of
rational, and secondly of disinterested action, without intro
ducing the vexed question of the Freedom of the Will. The
metaphysical difficulties connected with this question have been
proved by long dialectical experience to be so great, that I am
anxious to confine them within as strict limits as I can, and
keep as much of my subject as possible free from their per
turbing influence. And it appears to me that the identification
which Kant and others after him have sought to establish
between (1) Disinterested and Rational and (2) Rational and
Free action, is in the former case opposed to psychological
experience, while in the latter case it is at least misleading, and
tends to obscure the real issue raised in the Free Will con
troversy. In the last chapter I have tried to shew that action
strictly disinterested, that is, disregarded of foreseen balance of
pleasure to ourselves, is found in the most instinctive as well as
in the most deliberate and self-conscious region of our volitional
experience : nay, it appears to have a place (as far as any phe
nomenon known to us only by introspective observation may
reasonably be thought to have a place) in the life of the lower
animals. We have at any rate just as much ground for saying
that a faithful dog acts disinterestedly, as we have for saying
that he acts interestedly. .Again, the conception of acting
rationally, as explained in the last chapter but one, is certainly
not bound up with the notion of acting ' freely,' as maintained
by Libertarians generally against Determinists : rational action,
as I conceive it, remains rational, however complete may be the
28 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK I.
triumph of Determinism. I say " Libertarians generally," be
cause in the statements made by disciples of Kant as to the
connexion of Freedom and Rationality, there appears to me to
be a confusion between two meanings of the term Freedom,
which require to be carefully distinguished in any discussion of
Free Will. When a disciple of Kant says that a man " is a free
agent in so far as he acts under the guidance of reason," the
statement easily wins assent from ordinary readers ; since it is
no doubt true, as Whewell says, that we ordinarily " consider
our Reason as being ourselves rather than our desires and
affections. We speak of Desire, Love, Anger, as mastering us,
or of ourselves as controlling them. If we decide to prefer some
remote and abstract good to immediate pleasures, or to conform
to a rule which brings us present pain, (which decision implies
exercise of Reason,) we more particularly consider such acts as
our own acts1." I cannot, therefore, object on the score of
usage to this application of the term " free " to denote volun
tary actions in which the seductive solicitations of appetite or
passion are successfully resisted : and I am sensible of the gain
in effectiveness of moral persuasion which is obtained by thus
enlisting the powerful sentiment of Liberty on the side of
Reason and Morality. But it is clear that if we say that a man
is " a free agent in so far as he acts rationally," we cannot also
say — in the same sense — that it is by his own "free" choice
that he acts irrationally, when he does so act ; and it is this
latter proposition which Libertarians generally have been con
cerned to maintain. They have thought it of fundamental im
portance to shew the ' Freedom ' of the moral agent, on account
of the connexion that they have held to exist between Freedom
and Moral Responsibility : and it is obvious that the Freedom
thus connected with Responsibility is not the Freedom that is
only manifested in rational action, but the Freedom to choose
between right and wrong which is manifested equally in either
choice. Now it is I suppose an undoubted fact — to which the
Christian consciousness of "wilful sin" bears testimony — that
men do deliberately and with complete self-consciousness choose
to act irrationally. They do not merely prefer self-interest to
duty (for here is rather a conflict of claims to rationality than
1 Elements of Morality, Bk. i. c. ii.
CHAP. V.] FREE WILL. 29
clear irrationality): but (e.g.) sensual indulgence to health,
revenge to reputation, &c., though they know that such pre
ference is opposed to their true interests1. Hence it does not
really correspond to our experience as a whole to represent the
conflict between Reason and passion as a conflict between ' our
selves' on the one hand and a force of nature on the other.
We may say, if we like, that when we yield to passion, we
become 'the slaves of our desires and appetites' : but we must
at the same time admit that our slavery is self-chosen. Can
we say, then, of the wilful wrongdoer that his wrong choice
was ' free ' ; meaning that he might have chosen rightly, not
merely if the antecedents of his volition, external and internal,
had been different, but supposing these antecedents unchanged ?
This, I conceive, is the substantial issue raised in the Free Will
controversy; which I now propose briefly to consider. As
I shall presently explain, I do not think that a solution of this
metaphysical problem is really important for the general regu
lation of human conduct, whatever method be adopted for
framing such regulation : it will appear, however, that the
question has a special connexion with one department of mora
lity, according to the common sense view of it, which hereafter
in examining the Intuitional Method we shall attempt to make
as precise as possible.
§ 2. We may conveniently begin by defining more exactly
the notion of Voluntary action, to which, according to all
methods of Ethics alike, the predicates ' right ' and ' what ought
to be done' — in the strictest ethical sense — are exclusively
applicable. In the first place, Voluntary action is distinguished
as ' conscious ' from actions or movements of the human organ
ism which are ' unconscious ' or ' mechanical.' The person whose
1 The difficulty which Socrates and the Socratic schools had in conceiving
a man to choose deliberately what he knows to be bad for him— a difficulty
which drives Aristotle into real Determinism in his account of purposed action,
even while he is expressly maintaining the " voluntariness " and "responsi
bility" of vice— seems hardly to exist for the modern mind. This is at least
partly due to the fact that we have separated the notion of ' one's own good '
into the two primd facie distinct notions of ' interest ' and ' duty ' : thus, being
familiar with the conception of deliberate choice, consciously opposed either
to interest or to duty, we can without difficulty conceive of such choice in con
scious opposition to both.
30 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK I.
organism performs such movements only becomes aware of
them, if at all, after they have been performed ; accordingly
they are not imputed to him as a person, or judged to be
morally wrong or imprudent ; though they may sometimes be
judged to be good or bad in respect of their consequences, with
the implication that they ought to be encouraged or checked so
far as this can be done indirectly by conscious effort.
So again, in the case of conscious actions, the agent is not
regarded as morally responsible, except in an indirect way, for
effects which he did not foresee at the moment of volition. No
doubt when a man's action has caused some unforeseen harm,
the popular moral judgment often blames him for carelessness ;
but it would be generally admitted by reflective persons that in
such cases strictly moral blame only attaches to the agent in an
indirect way, in so far as his carelessness is the result of some
wilful neglect of duty. Thus the proper immediate objects of
moral approval or disapproval would seem to be always the
results of a man's volitions so far as they were intended — i.e.
represented in thought as certain or probable1 consequences of
such volitions — : or, more strictly, the volitions themselves in
which they were so intended, since we do not consider that
a man is relieved from moral blame because his wrong intention
remains unrealized owing to external causes.
This view seems at first sight to differ from the common
opinion that the morality of acts depends on their ' motives' ;
if by motives are understood the desires that we feel for some
of the foreseen consequences of our acts. But I do not think
that those who hold this opinion would deny that we are
blameworthy for any prohibited result included in our inten
tion, whether it was the object of desire or not. And though
it is certainly held that acts, similar as regards their foreseen
results, may be ' better' or ' worse2' through the presence of
certain desires or aversions; still probably all who hold this
1 I need not here raise the question how far we are responsible for all the
foreseen consequences of our actions, or only, in the case of definite uncon
ditional moral rules, for their results within a certain range — a question which
will have to be considered when we come to examine the Intuitional Method.
2 In a subsequent chapter (c. ix.) I shall examine more fully the relation of
the antithesis 'right' and 'wrong' to the vaguer and wider antithesis 'good' and
'bad,' in our practical reasonings.
CHAP. V.] FREE WILL. 31
would admit on reflection that so far as these feelings are
not directly under the control of the will the judgment of
'right' and 'wrong' does not strictly apply to them : but rather
to the exertion or omission of voluntary effort to check bad
motives and CD courage good ones, or to the conscious adoption
of an object of desire as an end to be aimed at — which, as I
have before said, is a species of volition.
We may conclude then that judgments of right and wrong
relate properly to volitions accompanied with intention —
whether the intended consequences be external, or some effects
produced on the agent's own feelings or character. This
excludes from the scope of such judgments those conscious
actions which are not intentional, strictly speaking ; as when
sudden strong feelings of pleasure and pain cause movements
which we are aware of making, but which are not anteceded
by any representation in idea either of the movements them
selves or of their effects. For such actions, which we may dis
tinguish as ' instinctive,' we are only held to be responsible
indirectly so far as any bad consequences of them might have
been prevented by voluntary efforts to form habits of more com
plete self-control.
We have to observe further that our common moral judg
ments recognize an important distinction between impulsive
and deliberate wrongdoing, condemning the latter more strongly
than the former. The line between the two cannot be sharply
drawn : but we may define ' impulsive' actions as those where
the connexion between the feeling that prompts and the action
prompted is so simple and immediate that, though intention
is distinctly present, the consciousness of personal choice of the
intended result is evanescent. In deliberate volitions there is
always a conscious selection of the result as one of two or
more practical alternatives.
- In the case, then, of volitions which are preeminently the
objects of moral condemnation and approbation, the psychical
fact ' volition' seems to be a somewhat complex phenomenon ;
including besides what I may call the mere sensation of
(psychical) action1 intention or representation of the results of
1 By this phrase I mean to denote the psychical fact of volition in its most
elementary form, as it exists even in instinctive actions. It might perhaps
32 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK I.
action and also the consciousness of self as choosing, resolving,
determining these results. And the question which I under
stand to be at issue in the Free Will controversy may be stated
thus : Is the self to which I refer my deliberate volitions a
self of strictly determinate moral qualities, a definite character
partly inherited, partly formed by my past actions and feelings,
and by any physical influences that it may have unconsciously
received ; so that my voluntary action, for good or for evil, is at
any moment completely caused by the determinate qualities of
this character, together with my circumstances, or the external
influences acting on me at the moment — including under this
latter term my present bodily conditions ? or is there always
a possibility of my choosing to act in the manner that I now
judge to be reasonable and right, whatever my previous actions
and experiences may have been ?
I have avoided using terms which imply materialistic as
sumptions, because, though a materialist — in modern times —
is pretty sure to be a determinist, a determinist is not always
a materialist. In the above questions a materialist would
substitute 'brain and nervous system' for 'character,' and
thereby obtain certainly a clearer notion ; but I have taken the
view of common sense, or Natural Dualism, which distinguishes
the agent from his body, For the present purpose the differ
ence is unimportant. The substantial dispute relates to the
completeness of the causal dependence of any volition upon the
state of things at the preceding instant, whether we specify these
as 'character and circumstances,' or 'brain and environing forces1.'
be described as feeling of the kind which when intense we call effort. This
feeling accompanies the initiation of muscular actions in our organism, except
where these are unconscious or mechanical ; but it must be distinguished from
the sense of expended muscular energy : for we experience it when by an effort
of self-control we resist a strong impulse to muscular action of any kind and
remain passive.
1 It is not uncommon to conceive of each volition as connected by uniform
laws with our past states of consciousness. But any uniformities we might trace
among a man's past consciousnesses, even if we knew them all, would yet give us
very imperfect guidance as to his future action : as there would be left out of
account
(1) all inborn tendencies and susceptibilities, as yet latent or incompletely
exhibited ;
(2) all past physical influences, of which the effects had not been perfectly
represented in consciousness.
CHAP. V.] FREE WILL. 33
(p. 52, 1. 18). Again, when we fix our attention on human
action, we observe that the portion of it which is originated
unconsciously is admittedly determined by physical causes....
Again, when we look closely at our conscious acts, we find that
in respect of such of them as I have characterized as 'impulsive,'
— acts done suddenly under the stimulus of a momentary sensa
tion or emotion — our consciousness can hardly be said to sug
gest that they are not completely determined by the strength of
the stimulus and the state of our previously determined tem
perament and character at the time of its operation : and here
again, as was before observed, it is difficult to draw a line
clearly separating these from the actions in which the apparent
consciousness of 'free choice' becomes distinct....
(p. 54, 1. 13). It is said, however, that the conception of the
Freedom of the Will, alien as it may be to speculative science,
both generally and in the special department of human action,
is yet indispensable to Ethics and Jurisprudence : that, as Kant
says, our recognition of the moral law is ratio cognoscendi of the
Freedom of the Will; since in judging that I "ought" to do
anything I imply that I "can" do it, and similarly in praising
or blaming the actions of others I imply that they "could"
have acted otherwise. If a man's actions are mere links in a
chain of causation which, as we trace it back, ultimately carries
us to events anterior to his personal existence, he cannot, it is
said, really have either merit or demerit : and thus the reason
ableness of the criminal law depends on the same assumption
of Free Will ; since if he has not merit or demerit, it is repug
nant to the moral reason and sentiments of mankind to reward
or punish him.
(p. 55, 1. 10)... True, the meaning of punishment is altered :
it can no longer be regarded as strictly retributory, but rather as
reformatory and deterrent : but it may be fairly said that this
is the more practical view, and the one towards which civiliza
tion — quite apart from the Free-will controversy — seems on
the whole to tend. In fact so far as the preventive view of
punishment diverges in practice from the retributive view,
it may largely claim the support of the common sense of
mankind, as exhibited in actual legislation and administration
of justice. Thus (e.g.) we commonly think it right to punish
negligence when it causes death, without requiring proof that
s. 3
34 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK I.
the negligence was the result, directly or indirectly, of wilful
disregard of duty; and we do not punish such pernicious acts
as rebellion or assassination less, because we know that they
were done from a sincere desire to serve God or to benefit
mankind: although we certainly consider the illdesert of such
acts to be less in this case. If, again, the Libertarian urges
that our moral feelings and judgments involve the concep
tion of 'free' agency, since it is unreasonable to resent volun
tary harm any more than involuntary, if both are equally
resultant effects of complex natural forces; the Determinist
answers that the reasonableness depends on the effect of the
resentment, which obviously tends to prevent the one kind of
action and not the other : nay, he retorts, indignation is only
reasonable on the assumption that men's actions are determined
by motives, among which the fear of others' indignation may be
reckoned.
§ 3 (p. 56, 11. 21—23). ...There seems to be so far no
practical necessity for any reflective person considering what
it is reasonable for him to do, to determine the metaphysical
validity of his consciousness of freedom to choose what he may
conclude to be reasonable.
§ 4. It is, however, of obvious practical importance to as
certain precisely how far the power of the will (whether meta
physically free or not) actually extends : for this defines the
range within which ethical judgments are in the strictest sense
applicable. This inquiry is quite independent of the question
of metaphysical freedom ; we might state it in Determinist
terms as an inquiry into the range of effects which it would be
possible to cause by human volition, provided that adequate
motive were not wanting. These effects seem to be of three
kinds : first, changes in the external world consequent upon
muscular contractions : secondly, changes in the train of ideas
and feelings that constitutes our conscious life : and thirdly,
changes in the tendencies to act hereafter in certain ways under
certain circumstances....
(p. 59, 1. 16). III. The effect of volition, however, to which
I especially wish to direct the reader's attention is the alteration
in men's tendencies to future action which must be assumed to
be a consequence of general resolutions as to future conduct, so
far as they are effective. Even a resolution to do a particular
CHAP. V.] FREE WILL. 35
act — if it is worth while to make it, as experience shews it to
be — must be supposed to produce a change of this kind in the
person who makes it : it must somehow modify his present ten
dencies to act in a certain way on a foreseen future occasion....
(p. 60, 1. 15).... At the same time it can hardly be denied
that such resolves sometimes succeed in breaking old habits :
und even when they fail to do this, they often substitute a
painful struggle for smooth and easy indulgence. Hence it is
reasonable to suppose that they always produce some effect in
this direction ; whether they operate by causing new motives to
present themselves on the side of reason, when the time of
inner conflict arrives; or whether they directly weaken the
impulsive force of habit in the same manner as an actual
breach of custom does, though in an inferior degree \
(p. 61, 1. 6). ...By any effort of resolution at the present
moment we can only produce a certain limited effect upon our
tendencies to action at some future time.
§ 5. But though I hold, on the grounds above argued, that
it is of no practical importance for a man to decide, with a view
to the general regulation of his conduct, whether he is or is
not a ' free agent ' (in the metaphysical sense) ; there is a
special department of his behaviour to others, in dealing with
which it appears to make some practical difference whether or
not he is to regard those others as having been free agents — I
mean in the determination of what Justice requires him to do
to them. For Justice as commonly understood implies the due
requital of good and ill Desert, and the common notion of
Desert, when closely scrutinized, seems (as I have already said)
to involve free choice of good or evil : so that the denial of such
free choice, dissipating our primitive notion of Desert, leaves us
the problem of determining Justice on some different principle.
1 It should be observed that the same kind of change is sometimes brought
about, without volition, by a powerful emotional shock, due to extraneous
causes : and hence it might be inferred that in all cases it is a powerful impres
sion of an emotional kind that produces the effect : and that the will is only
concerned in concentrating our attention on the benefits to be gained or evils to
be avoided by the change of habit, and so intensifying the impression of these.
But though this kind of voluntary contemplation is a useful auxiliary to good
resolutions, it does not seem to be this effort of will that constitutes the resolu
tion : we can clearly distinguish the two. Hence this third effect of volition
cannot be resolved into the second, but must be stated separately.
3—2
CHAPTER VI.
ETHICAL PRINCIPLES AND METHODS.
§ 1. THE results of the three preceding chapters may be
briefly stated as follows.
The aim of Ethics is to render scientific — i.e. true, and as
far as possible systematic — the apparent cognitions that most
men have of the Tightness or reasonableness of conduct, whether
the conduct be considered as right in itself, or as the means to
some end conceived as ultimately reasonable1. These cognitions
are normally accompanied by emotions of various kinds, known
as " moral sentiments :" but an ethical judgment cannot be ex
plained as affirming merely the existence of such a sentiment....
What then do we commonly regard as valid ultimate
reasons for acting or abstaining ? This, as was said, is the start
ing point for the discussions of the present treatise : which is
not primarily concerned with proving or disproving the validity
of any such reasons, but rather with the critical exposition
of the different 'methods' — or rational procedures for deter
mining right conduct in any particular case — which are
logically connected with the different ultimate reasons widely
accepted. In the first chapter we found that such reasons were
supplied by the notions of Happiness, Perfection (including
Virtue or Moral Perfection as a prominent element), regarded
as ultimate ends, and Duty as prescribed by unconditional rules.
It may seem, however, that these notions by no means ex
haust the list of reasons which are widely accepted as ulti-
1 As I have before said, the applicability of a method for determining right
conduct relatively to an ultimate end — whether Happiness or Perfection — does
not necessarily depend on the acceptance of the end as prescribed by reason : it
only requires that it should be in some way adopted as ultimate and paramount.
I have, however, confined my attention in this treatise to ends which are widely
accepted as reasonable: and I shall afterwards endeavour to exhibit the self-evi
dent practical axioms which appear to me to be implied in this acceptance. Cf.
post, Book in. c. 13.
CHAP. VI.] ETHICAL PRINCIPLES AND METHODS. 37
mate grounds of action. Many religious persons think that the
highest reason for doing anything is that it is God's Will:
while to others ' Self-realization ' or ' Self-development,' and to
others, again, 'Life according to nature' appear the really
ultimate ends (p. 66, 1. 23)... When, on the other hand, we
confine our attention to the strictly practical import of each
notion, we find that, in so far as it is ascertainable by reasoning
and reflection, it is always found to be identical with one or
other of the principles previously distinguished.
To begin with the theological conception of 'God's Will.'
If an external Revelation is proposed as the standard, we
are obviously carried beyond the range of our science: on
the other hand, when we try to ascertain by reason the
Divine Will, the practical result seems always to lead us
back, directly or indirectly, into one or other of the methods
already marked out ; since we cannot know anything to be the
Divine Will, which we do not also, by the same exercise of
thought, know to be reasonable.
§ 2 (p. 69, 1. 22). ... We can infer from our nutritive system
that we are intended to take food, and similarly that we are
to exercise our various muscles in some way or other, and our
brain and organs of sense.
§3 (p. 70, 1. 35). ...These and other difficulties in our
classification will be seen more clearly as our investigation
proceeds. In the meantime the list of first principles already
given seems to me to omit none that has a valid claim to
independent consideration; and it corresponds to what seem
the most fundamental distinctions that we apply to human
existence ; the distinction between the conscious being and
the stream of conscious experience, and the distinction (within
this latter) of Action and Feeling. For Perfection is thought
to be the goal of the development of a human being, con
sidered as a permanent entity ; while by Duty, we mean
the kind of Action that we think ought to be done; and
similarly by Happiness or Pleasure we mean an ultimately
desired or desirable kind of Feeling. At the same time I
do not profess to prove a priori that there are these practi
cal first principles and no more ; nor, again, that my state
ment of methods gives an exhaustive analysis of all possible
38 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BooK I.
modes of determining right conduct. My results have been
reached merely empirically, by reflection on the moral reason
ing of myself and other men, whether professed moralists or not :
and though it seems to me improbable that I have overlooked
any important phase of method, it is always possible that I may
have done so.
On the other hand my primary threefold division of methods
may by some readers be blamed for excess rather than defect....
(p. 73, 1. 9)... And such a reason is found in the theory of
human action held by Benj^am (and generally speaking by his
disciples), which has been discussed in a previous chapter — the
doctrine, I mean, that every human being always does aim at his
own greatest apparent happiness : and that, consequently, it is
useless to point out to a man the conduct that would conduce
to the general happiness, unless you convince him at the same
time that it would conduce to his own. On this view, egoistic
/and universalistic considerations must necessarily be combined
in any practical treatment of morality : and this being so, it was
perhaps to be expected that Bentham1 or his disciples would go
further, and attempt to base on the Egoism which they accept
as inevitable the Universalistic Hedonism which they approve
and inculcate. ... (p. 74, 1. 14)... But that they believed that such
observance by any individual tended naturally to promote
general happiness, and that the rules had been implanted by
Nature or revealed by God to this end.... Butler, I think,
was the first writer who dwelt on the discrepancies between
Virtue as commonly understood and " conduct likeliest to pro
duce an overbalance of happiness"2. When Hume presented
Utilitarianism as a mode of explaining current morality, it was
seen or suspected to have a partially destructive tendency. But
it was not till the time of Paley and Bentham that it was
offered as a method for determining conduct, which was to
1 See note at the end of the chapter.
2 See Dissertation n. Of the Nature of Virtue appended to the Analogy. It
may be interesting to notice a gradual change in Butler's view on this im
portant point. In the first of his Sermons on Human Nature published some
years ago before the Analogy he does not notice, any more than Shaftesbury
and Hutcheson, any possible want of harmony between Conscience and Bene
volence. A note to Sermon xn., however, seems to indicate a stage of transition
between the view of the first Sermon and the view of the Dissertation.
CHAP. VI.] ETHICAL PRINCIPLES AND METHODS. 39
overrule all traditional precepts and supersede all existing moral
sentiments. And even this complete and final antagonism re
lates rather to theory and method than to practical results :
indeed the discrepancy in results between Utilitarianism and
Common Sense has been rather extenuated than exaggerated
by most utilitarians. The practical conflict, in ordinary human
minds, is so palpably between Self-interest and Social Duty,
however determined, that the sense of this continually tends
to draw together Utilitarianism and Intuitionism into their
old alliance.
NOTE (at the end of Ch. vi.). — I have called the ethical doctrine
that takes universal happiness as the ultimate end and standard of
right conduct by the name of BentLam, because the thinkers who
have chiefly taught this doctrine in England during the present
century have referred it to Beiitham as their master. And it cer
tainly seems to me -clear— though Mr Bain (cf. Mind, January, 1883,
p. 48) appears to doubt it — that Bentham adopted this doctrine ex
plicitly, in its most comprehensive scope, at the earliest stage in the
formation of his opinions ; nor do I think that he ever consciously
abandoned or qualified it. We find him writing in his common
place book, in 1773 — 4 (cf. Works, Bowring's edition, vol. x. p. 70),
that Helvetius had "established a standard of rectitude for actions";
— the standard being that "a sort of action is a right one, when
the tendency of it is to augment the mass of happiness in the com
munity." And we find him writing fifty years later (cf. Works,
vol. x. p. 79) the following account of his earliest view, in a passage
which contains no hint of later dissent from it. "By an early
pamphlet of Priestley's... light was added to the warmth. In the
phrase 'the greatest happiness of the greatest number,' I then saw
delineated, for the first time, a plain as well as a true standard for
whatever is right or wrong... in human conduct whether in the field of
morals or of politics"
At the same time I must admit that in other passages Bentham
seems no less explicitly to adopt Egoistic Hedonism as the method of
* private Ethics ' as distinct from Legislation : and in his posthumous
' Deontology' the two principles appear to be reconciled by the doc
trine, that it is always the individual's true interest, even from a
purely mundane point of view, to act in the manner most conducive
to the general happiness. This latter proposition — which I regard
as erroneous — is not, I think, definitely put forward in any of the
treatises published by Bentham in his life-time, or completely pre
pared by him for publication : but I must confess that after carefully
studying these treatises — especially the " Principles of Morals and
Legislation " — I am unable to elicit from them a clear and definite
view as to the relations of Egoistic and Universalistic Hedonism, in
the field of private morality.
CHAPTER VII.
EGOISM AND SELF-LOVE.
§ 1 (p. 87, 1. 4). Even the English term Happiness is
not free from a similar ambiguity. It seems, indeed, to be
commonly used in Bentham's way as convertible with Pleasure,
— or rather as denoting that of which the elements are plea
sures — ; and it is in this sense that I think it most convenient
to use it. Sometimes, however, in ordinary discourse, the
term is rather employed to denote a particular kind of agree
able consciousness, which is distinguished from and even con
trasted with definite specific pleasures — such as the gratifica
tions of sensual appetite or other keen and vehement desires
— as being at once calmer and more indefinite : we may
characterize it as the feeling which accompanies the normal
activity of a "healthy mind in a healthy body," and of which
specific pleasures seem to be rather stimulants than elements.
Sometimes, again — though, I think, with a more manifest
divergence from common usage — " happiness " or " true happi
ness" is understood in a definitely non-hedonistic sense, as
denoting results other than agreeable feelings of any kind1.
§ 2. To be clear, then, we must particularize as the object
of self-love, and End of the method which I have distinguished
1 Thus Green (Prolegomena to Ethics, Book m. ch. iv. § 228) says, "it is the
realisation of those objects in which we are mainly interested, not the succession
of enjoyments which we shall experience in realising them, that forms the definite
content of our idea of true happiness, so far as it has such content at all." Cf.
also § 238.
CHAP. VII.] EGOISM AND SELF-LOVE. 41
as Egoistic Hedonism, the kind of feeling which we call
Pleasure1, taken in its widest sense, as including every species
of "delight," "enjoyment," or "satisfaction;" except so far as
any particular species may be excluded by its incompatibility
with some greater pleasures, or as necessarily involving con-
i comitant or subsequent pains. It is obvious that Hedonism,
I strictly understood, should be a method that aims at pleasure
I as pleasure and nothing else ; and so at pleasure generally, not
any particular kind of pleasure. And Self-love, as understood
by Butler and other English moralists after him, is similarly a
desire of one's own pleasure generally, and of the greatest
amount of it obtainable, from whatever source it may be
obtained... »
(p. 84, 1. 3). There remains then Pure or Quantitative
Egoistic Hedonism, which, as a method essentially distinct from
all others and widely maintained to be rational, seems to de-
I serve a detailed examination. According to this the rational
I agent regards quantity of consequent pleasure and pain to
himself as alone important in choosing between alternatives
' of action ; and seeks always the greatest attainable surplus of
pleasure over pain — which, without violation of usage, we may
designate as his ' greatest happiness.' It seems to be this view
and attitude of mind which is commonly intended by the vaguer
terms 'egoism,' 'egoistic :' and therefore I shall allow myself to
use these terms in this more precise signification.
NOTE. — The terms " Interest " and " Happiness " are generally
used by Butler and his followers, no less than by Bentham and the
utilitarians, to denote the total or aggregate of agreeable feeling at
which "Self-love" or "Self-regard" is conceived to aim, and of which
the elements are variously spoken of as "pleasures," "delights,"
("enjoyments," "satisfactions." Of these terms I have selected
'pleasure' as that best adapted to denote generally the kind of feeling
which we desire to sustain or produce in our conscious experience ;
as " delight," and perhaps " enjoyment," seems only appropriate to
designate such feelings when they reach a certain degree of intensity ;
and " satisfaction," again, is most properly applied to the pleasures
that attend upon the attainment of a desired object. I observe,
however, that in Green's Prolegomena to Ethics the term " satisfac
tion" is used in a peculiar sense in which it is expressly distinguished
from pleasure ; since the author, while holding as I do that pleasure
1 See the note at the end of the chapter.
42 THE METHODS OF ETHICS, [BOOK I.
is not the sole object of desire or conscious pursuit, still maintains
that "in all willing" or "all enacted desire" there is " self-satisfac-
I tion sought" (pp. 163, 5). Green's statements do not appear to me
to give explicitly any definite positive notion of this self-satisfaction ;
but since it is explained to be "a certain possible state" of the agent
" which in the gratification of his desire he seeks to reach," and yet
1 is not pleasure, I infer that it is the cognitive or intellectual element
of the consciousness of attainment, as distinguished from the
emotional or sensational element. To this view there appear to me
to be two decisive objections : (1) many men often desire and aim afc
other objects besides their own conscious states — (e.g.) materialists
aim at the welfare of remote posterity : and (2) the mere thought or
cognition of fulfilled desire — as distinguished on the one hand from
the fact of fulfilment or the existence of the desired object, and on
the other hand from the agreeable feeling included in the conscious
ness of fulfilment — is not desired or judged desirable by me ; nor, as
I believe, by others.
CHAPTER VIII.
INTUITIONISM.
§ 1. I HAVE used the term 'Intuitional' to denote the
view of ethics which regards as the practically ultimate end of
moral actions their conformity to certain rules of Duty uncondi-
; tionally prescribed. There is, however, considerable ambiguity
as to the exact antithesis implied by the terms ' intuition/
' intuitive,' and 'their congeners, as currently used in ethical
discussion, which we must now endeavour to remove. Some
times, as I before noticed, ' intuitive knowledge ' of the rightness
of actions is understood to imply that this rightness is ascer-
j tained by simply " looking at " the actions themselves, without
' considering their ulterior consequences. This view, indeed, can
hardly be extended to the whole range of duty; since no morality
ever existed which did not consider ulterior consequences to
some extent. Prudence or Forethought has always been reck
oned a virtue: and all modern lists of Virtues have included
Rational Benevolence, which aims at the happiness of other
human beings generally, and therefore necessarily takes into
consideration even remote effects of actions. It must be ob
served, too, that it is difficult to draw the line between an act
and its consequences : as the effects which follow each of our
volitions form a continuous series stretching to infinity, and we
seem to be conscious of causing all these effects, so far as at the
I moment of volition we foresee them to be probable — We
' must understand then that the disregard of consequences, which
44 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK I.
the Intuitional view, according to this interpretation of it, is
taken to imply, only relates to certain determinate classes of
actions (such as Truth-speaking) where the general notions of
the acts indicate clearly enough what events are to be included,
and what excluded.
But again; we have to observe that the antithesis between
Intuitionism and Hedonism is sometimes inadvertently stated in
such a way as to imply that the only consequences of actions
which can possibly be of ethical importance are pleasures and
pains. It can hardly, however, be denied that men may and do
judge remote as well as immediate results to be in themselves
desirable, without considering them in relation to the feelings of
sentient beings. I have already assumed this to be the view of
those who adopt the general Perfection, as distinct from the
Happiness, of human society as their ultimate end ; and it
would seem to be the view of many who concentrate their efforts
on some more particular results, other than morality, such as the
promotion of Art or Knowledge. Such a view, if expressly dis
tinguished from Hedonism, would probably be classed by many
as Intuitional; but if so the antithesis implied by the term
would be a different one to that denned in the preceding para
graph : it would be meant that these ultimate ends are judged
to be good immediately, and not by ' induction from experience'
of the pleasures which they produce. And it would seem to be
frequently this latter antithesis that is in the minds of those
who contrast 'intuitive' or ' a priori* with 'inductive' or 'a
posteriori ' morality. But such a contrast seems to indicate a
certain confusion of thought. For what the ' inductive' moralist
professes to know a posteriori, by induction from experience, is
commonly not the same thing as what the intuitive moralist
professes to know by intuition. In the former case it is the
conduciveness to pleasure of certain kinds of action that is
methodically ascertained : in the latter case, their Tightness :
there is therefore no proper opposition. If Hedonism claims to
give authoritative guidance, this can only be in virtue of the
principle that pleasure is the only reasonable ultimate end of
human action : and this principle cannot be known by induction
from experience. Experience can at most tell us that all men
always do seek pleasure as their ultimate end (that it does not
CHAP, VIIL] INTUITION1SM. 45
support this conclusion I have already tried to shew) : it cannot
tell us that any one ought so to seek it. If this latter proposi
tion is legitimately affirmed in respect either of private or of
general happiness, it must either be immediately known to be
true, — and therefore, we may say, a moral intuition — or be
inferred ultimately from premises which include at least one
such moral intuition ; hence either species of Hedonism, re
garded from the point of view taken in this treatise, might be
legitimately said to be in a certain sense 'intuitional.7 It
seems, however, to be the prevailing opinion of ordinary moral
persons, and of most of the writers who have maintained the
existence of moral intuitions, that certain kinds of actions are
unconditionally prescribed without regard to ulterior conse
quences: and I have accordingly treated this doctrine as a
distinguishing characteristic of the Intuitional method, during
the main part of the detailed examination of that method
which I attempt in Book ill.
§ 2. But further; the common antithesis between ' intui
tive ' and ' inductive ' morality is misleading in another way :
/ since a moralist may hold the Tightness of actions to be cog-
! nizable apart from the pleasure produced by them...
(p. 88, 1. 21). The view above described may be called, in
a sense, 'ultra^intuitional,' since, in its most extreme^jorm, it
recognizes simple immediate intuitions alone and discards as
superfluous all modes of reasoning to moral conclusions : and
we may find in it one phase or variety of the Intuitional
method, — if we may extend the term 'method' to include a
procedure that is completed in a single judgment.
§ 3. But though probably all moral agents have experience
of such particular intuitions, and though they constitute a great
part of the moral phenomena of most minds, comparatively few
are so thoroughly satisfied with them, as not to demand some
more certain moral knowledge, even for practical purposes. And
I conceive that in the case, at least, of reflective persons, even
j when the decision of the moral faculty relates primarily to some
j particular action, there is commonly at least a latent belief that
its Tightness or wrongness must be dependent upon certain
general characteristics of the action, agent, and circumstances :
and accordingly that the moral truth apprehended must be
46 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK I.
intrinsically universal, though particular in our first apprehen
sion of it1.
(p. 89, 1. 32)... And this is not unfrequently the case with
the conscientious reasoning of ordinary persons when any dis
pute or difficulty forces them to reason : they have a genuine
impulse to conform to the right rules of conduct, but they are
not^conscious, in difficult or doubtful cases, of seeing for them
selves what these are : they have to inquire that of their priest,
or their sacred books, or perhaps the common opinion of the
society to which they belong....
(p. 91, 1. 2)... From this demand springs a third species
or phase of Intuitionism, which, while accepting the morality
of common sense as in the main sound, still attempts to find
for it a philoso]Dhic_Jbasis which it does not itself offer : to get
one or more principles more absolutely and undeniably true and
evident, from which the current rules might be deduced, either
just as they are commonly received or with slight modifica
tions and rectifications2.
§ 4. The three phases of Intuitionism just described may
be treated as three stages in the scientific development of
Intuitive Morality: we may term them respectively Per
ceptional, Dogmatic, and Philosophical. The last-mentioned I
have only defined in the vaguest way.
. 1 This belief affords a kind of justification for the use of the term Moral
Keason for the faculty of apprehending moral truth, even as exercised in par
ticular cases.
2 It should be observed that such principles will not necessarily be "intui
tional " in the narrower sense that excludes consequences ; but only in the
wider sense as being self-evident principles relating to 'what ought to be.'
CHAPTER IX.
GOOD.
§ 1. WE have hitherto spoken of the quality of conduct
discerned by our moral faculty as ' Tightness/ which is the
term commonly used by English moralists. We have regarded
this term, and its equivalents in ordinary use, as implying
the existence of a dictate or imperative of reason, which, accord
ing to the Intuitional view, prescribes certain actions uncon
ditionally, without reference to ulterior consequences.
It is, however, possible to take a view of duty in which,
though the validity of moral intuitions is not disputed, this
notion of rule or dictate is at any rate only latent or implicit,
the moral ideal being presented as attractive rather than
imperative. That is, we may consider the action to which we
are morally prompted as 'good' in itself — not merely as a
means to some ulterior Good, but as a part1 of what is con
ceived as the agent's Ultimate Good....
(p. 96, 1. 6)... And though Plato felt the conflict between
Virtuejand Pleasure far more intensely, so that in one phase
of his mental development he repudiated the latter as an object
of rational pursuit : still his general tendency — no less than
that of Aristotle — is to regard the two as inseparable. The
Good which he investigated persistently arid profoundly we
must conceive as something of which the manifestation in con
crete human life involves the attainment of the greatest real
pleasure of which human nature is capable, as well as the
1 As I have before said, the doctrine that Eight conduct is the sole Good of
the agent does not commend itself to the common sense of a modern Christian
community : it rather tends to be regarded as a Stoical paradox.
48 THE METHODS OF ETHJCS. [BOOK I.
realization of Virtue. It is not until the posir-Aristotelian
period that the antithesis presents itself as an absolute^ an
tagonism ; and that the main influence of philosophy upon
mankind is divided between the two schools which present
Virtue and Pleasure as competing interpretations of the pro
blematical notion of Ultimate Good.
This, then, is the first difference to be noticed between the
\ two forms of the intuitive judgment. In the recognition of
conduct as * right ' is involved an authoritative prescription to
do it : but when we have judged conduct to be good, it is not
yet clear that we ought to prefer this kind of good to all other
I good things. In short, the notion of ' rightness ' is essentially
positive, and that of ' goodness ' admits of degrees; so that some
standard for estimating the relative values of different 'goods'
has still to be sought : and, as a preliminary to such a search, we
require to examine the import of the notion ' Good ' in the
whole range of its application.
§ 2. We may begin by observing that — as it is for the
constituents of ultimate good that we require a standard of
measurement — we are not primarily concerned with things that
are only thought to be good as means to the attainment of
ulterior ends. If, indeed, we had only this case to consider,
we might perhaps interpret ' good ' without reference to human
desire or choice, as meaning merely 'fit' or 'adapted' for the
production of certain effects — a good horse for riding, a good
gun for shooting, &c. But having also the notion of things as
good independently of ulterior ends, we must, as the word
itself does not seem to have different significations in the two
cases, find a meaning for it which will cover both applications.
There is, however, a simple interpretation of the term — which
is widely maintained to be the true one — according to which
1 everything which we judge to be good is implicitly conceived
' as a means to the end of pleasure, even when we do not make
in our judgment any explicit reference to this or any other
ulterior end. On this view, any comparison of things in respect
of their 'goodness' is necessarily a more or less unconscious
comparison of them as sources of pleasure ; so that any attempt
to systematize our intuitions of goodness, whether in conduct
and character or in other things, must reasonably lead us
CHAP. IX.] GOOD. 40
straight to Hedonism. And no doubt, if we consider the appli
cation of the term, outside the sphere of character and conduct
to things that are not definitely regarded as means to the
attainment of some ulterior object of desire, we find a close
correspondence between our apprehension of pleasure derived
from an object, and our recognition that the object is in itself
'good.' The good things of life are things which give pleasure,
whether sensual or emotional : as good wines, good landscapes,
pictures, music : and this gives a primd facie support to the
interpretation of ' good ' as equivalent to * pleasant.' I think,
however, that further reflection on the application of the term
to the cases most analogous to that of conduct — i.e. to what we
may call ' objects of taste ' — will shew that this interpretation of
it has not really the support of common sense....
As regards aesthetic pleasures, and the sources of such
pleasures that we commonly judge to be good, it is the
received opinion that some persons have more and others
less 'good taste:' and it is only the judgment of persons of
good taste that we recognize as valid in respect of the real
(goodness of the things enjoyed. We think that of his own
pleasure each individual is the final judge, and there is no
/ appeal from his decision ; but the affirmation of goodness in any
I object involves the assumption of a universally valid standard,
I which, as we believe, the judgment of persons to whom we
' attribute good taste approximately represents. And it seems
clear that the term ' good ' as applied to ' taste ' does not mean
'pleasant' ; it merely imports the conformity of the aesthetic judg
ment so characterized to the supposed ideal, deviation from
which implies error and defect.
§ 3. When we pass from the adjective to the substantive
1 good,' it is at once evident that this latter cannot be understood
as equivalent to ' pleasure ' or ' happiness ' by any persons who
affirm— as a significant proposition and not as a mere tautology
— that the Pleasure or Happiness of human beings is their
Good or Ultimate Good. Such affirmation, which would, I think,
be ordinarily made by Hedonists, obviously implies that the
meaning of the two terms is different however closely their
denotation may coincide. And it does not seem that any funda- /
mental difference of meaning is implied by the grammatical
variation from adjective to substantive.
s. 4
50 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK L
What then, it may be asked, can we state as the general
meaning of the term 'good ' ? I should answer that the notion
it represents does not admit — any more than that expressed
by the words 'right/ 'ought,' &c. — of being analysed into more
elementary notions. We can only make it clearer by determin
ing its relations ; we can (as above) distinguish Good from
Pleasure and the Pleasant ; and we can indicate its relation to
desire and choice by giving as its equivalent the term ' desir-
^ able'. What I recognize as 'desirable' for me I conceive as
j something which I either do desire (if absent) or should desire
I if my impulses were in harmony with reason : we may say that
I 'ought to desire it/ but — since irrational desires cannot always
be dismissed at once by voluntary effort — we can only say this
in the wider sense1 of ' ought' ; in which it merely connotes an
ideal or standard, divergence from which it is our duty to avoid
as far as possible, though, even when it is distinctly recognized,
we may not always be able to avoid it at will.
The distinction, however, that is thus drawn between what
is ' desirable ' and what is actually desired would not be uni
versally accepted. Some who would admit ' desirable ' as an
interpretation or equivalent o£ 'good/ would maintain that by
either term no more is signified than the object of actual desire,
whatever that may be. They would admit that we all recognize
some desires to be bad, and directed to what is not really good
for us : but they would explain this by saying that such desires
prompt to actions for the consequences of which, when they
arrive, we feel, on the whole, aversion more intense than the
former desire. On this view, then, my ' good on the whole '
may be taken to mean what I should actually desire and
seek if all the future aversions and desires which would be
roused in me by the consequences of seeking it could be fully
realized by me at the time of making my choice.
There is much in this view that seems to me true and
| important. I hold myself that the satisfaction of any desire is
\ pro tanto good ; and that an equal regard for all the moments of
our conscious experience — so far, at least, as the mere difference
of their position in time is concerned — is an essential charac
teristic of rational conduct. I cannot, however, admit the fact,
1 Cf. ante, cb. iii. § 3.
CHAP. IX.] GOOD. 51
that a man does not afterwards feel for the consequences of an
action aversion strong enough to cause him to regret it, to be a
complete proof that he has acted for his ' good on the whole.'
Nor do I think that this is in accordance with common sense :
for we commonly reckon it among the worst consequences of
some kinds of conduct that they alter men's tendencies to
desire, and make them desire their lesser good more than their
greater : and we think it all the worse for a man — even in this
world — if he is never roused out of such a condition and lives
till death the life of a contented pig, when he might have been
something better. To avoid this objection, it would have to
be said that a man's "true good" is what he would desire on
the whole if all the consequences of all the different lines of
conduct open to him were actually exercising on him an im
pulsive force proportioned to the desires or aversions which they
would excite if actually experienced. So far as I can conceive
this hypothetical object of desire, I am not prepared to deny
that it would be ' desirable ' in the sense which I give to the
term : .but such a hypothetical composition of impulsive forces
involves so elaborate and difficult a conception, that it is surely
paradoxical to say that this is what we mean when we talk of a
man's ( good on the whole.'
Dirferentjneanings, again, are given to the term ' good ' by
writers who speak of the object — not of Desire generally but —
either (1) of the desire that prevails in an act of deliberate pur
pose, or (2) of any desire that takes effect in conscious action
whether impulsive or deliberate, as the 'apj^axejat^good' of the
agent1. The adoption, however, of either of these interpreta
tions implies a denial of the psychological proposition main
tained by me in previous chapters2; viz. that men not only
impulsively but even deliberately yield to appetite or passion
in conscious opposition to reason, and choose to act in a way
which they believe while choosing will be ' worse ' for them on
the whole. And this statement seems to me to be borne out
by the common experience of reflective moral persons, in modern
Christian societies.
1 The latter of these statements gives what I understand to be the view of
Green (Prolegomena to Ethics, Book n. Ch. ii.).
- Cf. Ch. iv. § 1 and Ch. v. § 1.
4—2
52 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK I.
I cannot, then, define the ultimately good or desirable other
wise than by saying that it is that of which we should desire
the existence if our desires were in harmony with reason, or (to
put it otherwise) with an ideal standard from which our actual
desires are found more or less to diverge. Let us turn now to
the special application of the term to conduct in which, accord
ing to the Intuitional view, conduct is judged to be good, or
desirable in itself independently of its consequences. This
judgment differs, as I have said, from the judgment that
such conduct is 'right/ in so far as it does not involve a
definite precept to perform it; since it still leaves it an open
question whether this good is the greatest good that we can
under the circumstances obtain. It differs further, as we
may now observe, in so far as good or excellent actions are
not implied to be in our power in the same strict sense as
* right ' actions — any more than any other good things : and in
fact there are many excellences of behaviour which we cannot
attain by any effort of will, at least directly and at the moment :
hence we often feel that the recognition of goodness in the
conduct of others does not carry with it a clear precept to do
likewise, but rather
the vague desire
That stirs an imitative will.
In so far as this is the case, Goodness of Conduct becomes an
ulterior end, the attainment of which lies outside and beyond
the range of immediate volition.
§ 4. It remains to consider by what standard the value of
conduct, thus intuitively judged to be good in itself, is to be
coordinated and compared with that of other good things. I
shall not now attempt to establish such a standard ; but a little
reflection may enable us to limit considerably the range of
objects for which it is required. At first sight, indeed, it may
seem that there are many other things regarded as intrinsically
desirable ; and even that the notion of Ultimate Good is more
ordinarily applied to a variety of comparatively permanent
.results, material or otherwise, than it is to virtuous actions
or pleasant feelings. If, however, we consider carefully such
permanent results as are commonly judged to be good, other
than qualities of human beings, mental or bodily, we find nothing
CHAP. IX.] GOOD. 53
that, on reflection, appears to possess this quality of goodness
out of relation to human beings, or at least to some conscious
ness or feeling.
(End of chapter.) We may conclude then, that if there be
any ultimate permanent Good to be sought by man it can only
be the Goodness, Perfection, or Excellence of Human Existence.
How far this notion includes more than Virtue, what its precise
relation to Pleasure is, and to what method we shall be logically
led if we accept it as fundamental, are questions which we shall
more conveniently discuss after the detailed examination of
these two other notions, in which we shall be engaged in the
two following Books.
NOTE. In this chapter I have refrained from discussing the
distinction and relation between 'Good' taken absolutely or uni
versally, and the Good of this or that individual; since this discus
sion, in my view, is more conveniently placed in chap. xiii. of
Book in. ('Philosophical Intuit ionism').
BOOK II.
CHAPTER L
THE PRINCIPLE AND METHOD OF EGOISM.
§ 1. THE object of the present Book is to examine the
method of determining reasonable conduct which has been
already defined in outline under the name of Egoism. It is,
perhaps, a sufficient reason for considering this first of the three
methods with which this treatise is principally concerned, that
there seems to be more tendency to agreement among reflective
persons as to the reasonableness of its fundamental principle,
than exists in the case either of Intuitionism or of that Univer-
salistic Hedonism to which I propose to restrict the name of
Utilitarianism.
...(p. 109,1. 4.) By Egoism we mean Egoistic Hedonism,
a system that fixes as the reasonable ultimate end of each
individual's action his own greatest possible Happiness : and
by ' greatest Happiness/ again, we must definitely understand
the greatest possible amount of pleasure1; or more strictly,
as pains have to be balanced against pleasures, the greatest
possible surplus of pleasure over pain — the two terms being
vised, with equally comprehensive meanings, to include respec
tively all kinds of agreeable and disagreeable feelings.... We
must therefore understand by an Egoist a man who when two
or more courses of action are open to him, represents to himself
as accurately as he can the amounts of pleasure and pain that
1 This is manifestly the interpretation implicitly given to the term by Butler
and Clarke— and, I believe, by all English writers on Morals until very recently.
50 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK II.
are likely to result from each, and chooses the one which he
thinks will yield him the greatest surplus of pleasure over pain.
§ 2. It must however be pointed out that the adoption of
the fundamental principle of Egoism, as just explained, by no
means necessarily implies the ordinary empirical method of
seeking one's own pleasure or happiness... but since it is
generally admitted that pleasures and pains are facts of ordinary
experience, of which the quantity and quality are only directly
known, by reflection or introspection, to the individual who
experiences them ; it would seem that — at any rate — the
obvious method of Egoistic Hedonism is that which we may
call Empirical -reflective : and it is this I conceive that is
commonly used in egoistic deliberation.
CHAPTER II.
EMPIRICAL HEDONISM.
§ 1. THE first and most fundamental assumption, involved
not only in the empirical method of Egoistic Hedonism, but
in the very conception of ' Greatest Happiness ' as an end of
action, is the commensurability of Pleasures and Pains. By
this I mean that we must assume the pleasures sought and the
pains shunned to have determinate quantitative relations to
each other ; for otherwise they cannot be conceived as possible
elements of a total of which we are to seek the maximum.
It is not absolutely necessary to exclude the supposition that
there are some kinds of pleasure so much more pleasant than
others, that the smallest conceivable amount of the former
would outweigh the greatest conceivable amount of the latter ;
since, if this were ascertained to be the case, the only result
would be that any hedonistic calculation involving pleasures of
the former class might be simplified by treating those of the
latter class as practically non-existent. And we find it sometimes
asserted by persons of enthusiastic and passionate temperament,
that there are feelings so exquisitely delightful, that one moment
of their rapture is preferable to an eternity of agreeable con
sciousness of an. inferior kind. These assertions, however, are
perhaps consciously hyperbolical, and not intended to be taken
as scientific statements : but in the case of pain, it has been
deliberately maintained by a thoughtful and subtle writer1, with
a view to important practical conclusions, that " torture " so
extreme as to be " incommensurable with moderate pain" is an
1 Mr E. Gurney, in the Fortnightly Reiieic for December 1881.
58 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK II.
actual fact of experience. This doctrine, however, does not cor
respond to my own experience ; nor does it appear to me to be
supported by the common sense of mankind : — at least I do not
find, in the practical forethought of persons noted for caution,
any recognition of the danger of agony such that, in order to
avoid the smallest extra risk of it, the greatest conceivable
amount of moderate pain should reasonably be incurred. I
think that in all ordinary prudential reasoning, at any rate,
the assumption is implicitly made that all the pleasures and
pains that man can experience bear a finite ratio to each other
in respect of pleasantness....
If pleasures, then, can be arranged in a scale, as greater
or less in some finite degree ; we are naturally led to the as
sumption of a hedonistic zero, or perfectly neutral feeling, as
a point from which the positive quantity of pleasures may be
measured. And this latter assumption emerges still more
clearly when we consider the comparison and balancing of
pleasures with pains, which Hedonism necessarily involves.
For pain must be reckoned as the negative quantity of pleasure,
to be balanced against and subtracted from the positive in
estimating happiness on the whole; we must therefore con
ceive, as at least ideally possible, a point of transition in con
sciousness at which we pass from the positive to the negative.
...(p. 113, 1. 6.) So long as health is retained, and pain and
irksome toil banished, the mere sense of living and performing
the ordinary habitual functions of life is a continual source of
moderate pleasures.
§ 2. This last observation will have shewn the desirability
of getting a more precise notion of pleasure and pain than we
have yet attained. To avoid prolixity, I shall for the future, in
hedonistic discussions, speak usually of pleasure only, assuming
that pain may be regarded as the negative quantity of pleasure,
and that accordingly any statements made with respect to the
former may be at once applied, mutatis mutandis, to the latter.
IThe equivalent phrase for Pleasure, according to Mr
Spencer1, is "a feeling which we seek to bring into conscious-
] ness and retain there;" and I have already (ch. iv. § 2) ac-
1 Principles of Psycliolociy, ch. ix. § 125.
CHAP. II.] EMPIRICAL HEDONISM. 59
cepted this definition as adequate for purposes of distinction.
But it is not therefore clear that it is exactly appropriate for
purposes of quantitative comparison of pleasures ; and that we
can say universally that pleasures are greater and less exactly
in proportion as they exercise more or less influence in stimu
lating the will to actions tending to sustain or produce them.
It would be admitted, indeed, by all that the ideas of absent
pleasures do not stimulate us to aim at their realization in
strict proportion to their intensity when actually felt : but it
may still be thought that, as Mr Bain says, " pleasure and pain,
in the actual or real experience, are to be held as identical
with motive power." By this Mr Bain does not, of course,
mean that all pleasures when actually felt actually stimulate
to exertion of some kind ; since this is obviously not true of the
pleasures of repose, a warm bath, &c. The stimulus must in
such cases be understood to be latent and potential ; only be
coming actual when action is required to prevent the cessation
or diminution of the pleasure. But even when thus qualified,
Mr Bain's statement does not appear to me to be altogether in
accordance with experience. He himself contrasts the " dis
proportionate strain of active powers in one direction," to
which " any sudden and great delight may give rise," with the
"proper frame of mind under delight," which is "to inspire no
endeavours except what the charm of the moment justifies1."
And he elsewhere explains that "our pleasurable emotions
are all liable to detain the mind unduly," through the "at
mosphere of excitement" with which they are surrounded,
carrying the mind "beyond the estimate of pleasure and pain,
to the state named ' passion,' " in which a man is not " moved
solely by the strict value of the pleasure," but also by "the
engrossing power of the excitement2." It is true that in all
such cases3 Mr Bain seems to hold that the stimulus of the
1 The Emotions and the Will, 3rd Edition, p. 392.
2 Mental and Moral Science, Book iv. ch. iv. § 4.
3 It ought to be observed, however, that in another work (The Senses and the
Intellect, Book i. § 12) Mr Bain distinguishes certain kinds of pleasure as
" unvolitional " or " serene " in contrast with those that he terms " volitional "„
But as this passage does not appear in subsequent editions, I am not sure that
it represents his present view.
60 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK 11.
"mere excitement" — which he identifies with the " tendency
of a fixed idea to act itself out," — does not operate1 when the
pleasure is actually felt, but only when it is represented in idea
as an object to be aimed at. I do not, however, find in my
own experience any support for this latter view : it seems to
me that exciting pleasures are liable to exercise, even when
actually felt, a volitional stimulus out of proportion to their
intensity as pleasures2. If this be so, it is obviously to a
certain extent inexact to define pleasure, for purposes of
measurement, as the kind of feeling that we seek to retain in
consciousness. Shall we then say that there is a measurable
quality of feeling expressed by the word " pleasure", which is
independent of its relation to volition, and strictly undefinable
from its simplicity ? — like the quality of feeling expressed by
"sweet", of which also we are conscious in varying degrees of
intensity. This seems to be the view of some writers : but, for
my own part, when the term is used in the more extended
sense which I have adopted, to include the most refined and
subtle intellectual and emotional gratifications, no less than the
coarser and more definite sensual enjoyments, I can find no
common quality in the feelings so designated except some
relation to desire or volition. Hence, if it be admitted that we
cannot define Pleasure, when we are considering its "strict
value " for purposes of quantitative comparison, as the kind of
feeling which we actually desire and aim at, it only remains to
define it as that which, when experienced by intelligent beings,
is implicitly apprehended as desirable or preferable. We thus
recognize that the exact equation which is often assumed to
exist between volitional stimulus and intensity of pleasure is
merely a normal or typical relation, from which the actual
relation between the two psychical facts is liable more or less
to diverge.
1 He does not, however, say more than that " the disturbances and ano-
" malies of the will scarcely begin to tell in the actual feeling." Mental and
Moral Science, Book iv. ch. v. § 4.
2 Mr Bain himself seems to recognize this in a passage where he says
(Mental and Moral Science, Book in. ch. i. § 8) that " acute pleasures and pains
stimulate the will perhaps more strongly than an equivalent stimulation of the
massive kind."
CHAP. II.] EMPIRICAL HEDONISM. f,l
(p. 114, 1. 23.)
This contradiction may, I think, be avoided as follows. As
I have already said, it will be generally admitted that the
pleasantness of a feeling is only directly cognizable by the in
dividual who feels it at the time of feeling it. Thus, though
others may know (on general grounds) that by preferring this
gratification to some other which he might hereafter enjoy he
will obtain less happiness on the whole, and so far may rightly
pronounce his choice mistaken ; and though (as I shall pre
sently argue), in so far as any estimate of pleasantness involves
comparison with feelings only represented in idea, it is liable
to be erroneous through imperfections in the representation ;
still, no one is in a position to controvert the preference of the
sentient individual, so far as the quality of the present feeling
alone is concerned certainly if we in thought distinguish any
feeling from all its circumstances and conditions (and also from
all its effects on the subsequent feelings of the same individual
or of others) and contemplate it merely as the transient feeling
of a single subject; it seems impossible to find in it any other
preferable quality than that which we call its pleasantness, the
degree of which is only cognizable directly by the sentient
individual1.
It should be observed that if this definition of pleasure be
accepted, the fundamental proposition of ethical Hedonism has
1 In his more recent Prolegomena to Ethics, Green again says that "pleasure
(in distinction from the facts conditioning it) is not an object of the understand
ing." To which it seems sufficient to answer that in several parts of this very
treatise, arguments respecting pleasure are carried on which are only intelligible
if this distinction between pleasure and the facts conditioning it is thoroughly
grasped and steadily contemplated by the understanding : and we may add that
the distinction is carried by Green to a degree of subtlety far beyond that which
ordinary Hedonism requires — as (e.g.] when 'pleasure' is distinguished from the
'satisfaction' involved in the consciousness of attainment (p. 166). Nor are
these arguments merely critical and negative in respect of the possibility of
measuring pleasure : we find for instance that Green has no doubt that certain
measures " needed in order to supply conditions favourable to good character,
tend also to make life -more pleasant on the whole " (p. 365) ; and again that "it
is easy to show that an overbalance of pain would on the whole result to those
capable of being affected by it" from the neglect of certain duties. In these
cases it would seem that pleasure and pain, in distinction from the facts condi
tioning' them, being conceived capable — in whatever degree — of quantitative
measurement, cannot but be " objects of the understanding."
62 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK II.
chiefly a negative significance ; for, it being assumed in the
definition of pleasure that it is * desirable/ the statement that
'Pleasure is the ultimate Good' is only important so far as it
affirms that nothing is ultimately desirable except desirable
feeling. For the same reason it may be made an objection to
the definition that it could not be accepted by a moralist of
stoical turn, who while recognizing pleasure as a fact refused
to recognize it as in any degree ultimately desirable. I do
not however think that such a moralist need deny that an
implied judgment that a feeling is per se desirable is insepa
rably connected with its recognition as pleasure ; though he
might hold that sound philosophy shews the illusoriness of such
judgments. This, in fact, seems to have been substantially
the view of the Stoic school \
However this may be, I conceive that the preference which
pure Hedonism regards as ultimately rational, should be de
fined as the preference of feeling valued merely as feeling,
according to the estimate implicitly or explicitly made by the
sentient individual at the time of feeling it; without any regard
to the conditions and relations under which it arises. Ac
cordingly we may state as the fundamental assumption of what
I have called Quantitative Hedonism, — implied in the adoption
of "greatest surplus of pleasure over pain" as the ultimate end
— that all pleasure and pains, estimated merely as feelings,
have definite degrees of desirability, positive or negative ; ob
serving further, that the empirical method of Hedonism can
1 A further objection may perhaps be taken to the definition, on the score of
its inconsistency with statements made in the preceding book. It may be said
that since the term desirable was there explained to mean that which ' ought ' to
be desired or aimed at, a proposition affirming desirability must come within
the class of ethical judgments which has before been said to be ' objective ' : yet
how, it may be asked, can a judgment be objective when it relates to what is
only directly cognizable by a single subject ? I admit that the application of
the term "objective" to such judgments would be somewhat confusing, and I
have therefore avoided it ; but in applying the term to ethical propositions in
general I was careful to explain it as importing only that such propositions
could not be contradicted without error on one side or the other : and this
remains true of propositions respecting the desirability of feelings, even if the
judgment of the sentient individual be taken as incontrovertible. Some further
discussion of the terms ' subjective ' and ' objective ', in their ethical application
will be found in the following book (ch. i. and ch. xiv.).
CHAP. II.] EMPIRICAL HEDONISM. 63
only be applied so far as we assume that these degrees of
desirability are definitely given in our experience of pleasure
and pain.
NOTE. — It is sometimes thought to be a necessary assumption of
Hedonists that a surplus of pleasure over pain is actually attainable
by human beings : a proposition which an extreme pessimist would
deny. But the conclusion that life is always on the whole painful
would not prove it to be unreasonable for a man to aim ultimately at
minimizing pain, if this is still admitted to be possible ; though it
would, no doubt, drive a rational egoist to immediate suicide.
CHAPTER III.
EMPIRICAL HEDONISM CONTINUED.
The order of exposition in this chapter has been considerably altered. The
main part of what was § 5 in the 2nd edition has become the latter part of
§ 2 of this edition ; what was § 4 — substantially — now stands as § 3 ; the old
§ 2 is now divided into § 4 and § 5, and the old § 3, with some transposition
of paragraphs, into § 6 and § 7.
§ 1 (p. 118, 1. 37). If then we confine our attention, for
the present, to the objections tending to shew the intrinsic
impracticability of Hedonism as a rational method, we find
ourselves, in the first place, met by a criticism which, if valid
at al], must be admitted to be decisive. It has been main
tained, by one of the leading writers of a school which appears
to have not a few adherents at the present time, that the
phrase "greatest possible sum of pleasures" is "intrinsically
" unmeaning " and " nonsense " because " pleasant feelings are
"not quantities to be added1." By this assertion, however, it
is not "intended to deny that there may be in fact such
" a thing as a desire for a sum or contemplated series of
"pleasures, or that a man may be so affected by it as to
"judge that some particular desire should not be gratified;"
but merely, as I understand, that a sum of pleasures cannot
be possessed or enjoyed as a sum; that is, all at once. Each
1 The writer to whom I refer is the late Professor T. H. Green, from whose
posthumous Prolegomena to Ethics I have already more than once quoted.
The school which he represents has been on various occasions designated by
different critics (including myself) as ' Hegelian ', ' Transcendentalist ', and
' Neokantian ' ; but no one of these terms appears to be altogether satisfactory to
the persons to whom it is applied.
CHAP. III.] EMPIRICAL HEDONISM. 65
pleasure, we are told, "is over before the other is enjoyed:"
a man " cannot accumulate pleasures ; if he experiences a
"pleasure every hour for the next 50 years, he will have
"no more in possession, and will be in no better state, than
"if he is pleased the next minute and then comes to an
''end1." But unless the transiency of pleasure diminishes its
pleasantness — which the writer from whom I am quoting does
not expressly maintain — I cannot see that the possibility of
realizing the hedonistic end is at all affected by the necessity of
realizing it in successive parts. The argument seems to assume
that by an "end" must be meant a goal or consummation,
which, after gradually drawing nearer to it, we reach all at
once: but this is not, I conceive, the sense in which the word is
ordinarily understood by ethical writers : and certainly all that
I_mean_by it is an object of rational aim — whether attained in
successive parts or not — which is not sought as a means to the
attainment of any ulterior object, but foj-jtself. And so long
as any one's prospective balance of pleasure over pain admits of
being made greater or less by immediate action in one way or
another, there seems no reason why ' Maximum Happiness '
should not provide as serviceable a criterion of conduct as any
' chief good ' capable of being possessed all at once, or in some
way independently of the condition of time.
§ 2. If, however, it be maintained, that the consciousness
of the transiency of pleasure either makes it less pleasant at the
time or causes a subsequent pain, and that the deliberate and sys
tematic pursuit of pleasure tends to intensify this consciousness ;
the proposition, if borne out by experience, would certainly con
stitute a relevant objection to the method of Egoistic Hedonism.
And this view would seem to be in the mind of the writer above
quoted (though it is nowhere clearly put forward) : since he affirms
that it is "impossible that self-satisfaction should be found in any
" succession of pleasures 2"; as self-satisfaction being "satisfaction
"for a self that abides and contemplates itself as abiding" must
be at least "relatively permanent3:" and it is, I suppose, implied
1 Cf. Prolegomena to Ethics, Book iv. ch. iv. p. 401 ; and Mind, No. vi. pp.
267 — 9 ; also the Introduction to Hume's Treatise on Human Nature, § 7,
2 Prolegomena to Ethics, p. 183.
3 1. c. p. 248.
S. 5
66 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK IT.
that the disappointment of the Hedonist, who fails to find self-
satisfaction where he seeks for it, is attended with pain or loss of
pleasure1. If this be so, and if the self-satisfaction thus missed
can be obtained by the resolute adoption of some other principle
of action, it would certainly seem that the systematic pursuit of
pleasure is in some danger of defeating itself: it is therefore
important to consider carefully how far this is really the case.
So far as my own experience goes, it does not appear to me
that the mere transiency of pleasures is a serious source of dis
content, so long as one has a fair prospect of having as much
pleasure in the future as in the past — or even so long as the
life before one has any substantial amount of pleasure to offer.
But I do not doubt that an important element of happiness, for
all or most men, is derived from the consciousness of possessing
"relatively permanent" sources of pleasure — whether external,
as wealth, status, family, friends; or internal, as knowledge, cul
ture, self-control, and lively interest in the wellbeing of fairly
prosperous persons or institutions. This, however, does not, in
my opinion, constitute an objection to Hedonism : it rather
seems obvious, from the hedonistic point of view, that "as soon
" as intelligence discovers that there are fixed objects, permanent
"sources of pleasure, and large groups of enduring interests,
"which yield a variety of recurring enjoyments, the rational
" will, preferring the greater to the less, will unfailingly devote
" its energies to the pursuit of these2." It may be replied that
if these permanent sources of pleasure are sought merely as a
means to the hedonistic end, they will not afford the happiness
for which they are sought. With this I to a great extent agree ;
but I think that if the normal complexity of our impulses be
duly taken into account, this statement will be found not to
militate against the adoption of Hedonism, but merely to signa
lize a danger against which the Hedonist has to guard. In a
previous chapter3 I have, after Butler, laid stress on the differ
ence between impulses that are, strictly speaking, directed
1 I cannot state this positively, because Green expressly distinguishes self-
satisfaction from pleasure, and does not expressly affirm that its absence is
attended by pain.
2 Sully, Pessimism, ch. xi. p. 282.
3 Book i. ch. iv.
CHAP. III.] EMPIRICAL HEDONISM. 67
towards pleasure, and * extra-regarding ' impulses which do not
aim at pleasure, though much, perhaps most, of our pleasure
consists in the gratification of these latter, and therefore depends
upon their existence. I there argued that in many cases the two
kinds of impulse are so far incompatible that they do not easily
coexist in the same moment of consciousness. I added, however,
that in the ordinary condition of our activity the incompatibility
is only momentary, and does not prevent a real harmony from
being attained by a sort of alternating rhythm of the two
impulses in consciousness. Still it seems undeniable that this
harmony is liable to be disturbed ; and that while on the one
hand individuals may and do sacrifice their greatest apparent
happiness to the gratification of some imperious particular desire ;
so on the other hand, self-love is liable to engross the mind
to a degree incompatible with a healthy and vigorous outflow
of those "disinterested" impulses towards particular objects, the
pre-existence of which is necessary to the attainment, in any
high degree, of the happiness at which self-love aims. I should
not, however, infer from this that the pursuit of pleasure is
necessarily self-defeating and futile; but merely that the
principle of Egoistic Hedonism when applied with a due
knowledge of the laws of human nature, is practically self-
limiting ; i. e. that a rational method of attaining the end at
which it aims requires that we should to some extent put it out
of sight and not directly aim at it. I have before spoken of this
conclusion as the ' Fundamental Paradox of Egoistic Hedonism ' ;
but though it presents itself as a paradox, there does not seem to
be any difficulty in its practical realization, when once the danger
indicated is clearly seen....
It is true that, as our desires cannot ordinarily be produced
by an effort of will — though they can to some extent be re
pressed by it — if we started with no impulse except the desire of
pleasure, it might seem difficult to execute the practical paradox
of attaining pleasure by aiming at something else. (The rest
substantially as in § 5 of Ed. II.)
§ 3. There is, however, another way in which the habit of
mind necessarily resulting from the continual practice of hedo
nistic comparison is sometimes thought to be unfavourable to
the attainment of the hedonistic end : from a supposed incom-
68 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK II.
patibility between the habit of reflectively observing and exam
ining pleasure, and the capacity for experiencing pleasure in
normal fulness and intensity. And it certainly seems import
ant to consider what effect the continual attention to our plea
sures, in order to observe their different degrees, is likely to have
on these feelings themselves. (The rest substantially as in § 4
of Ed. II. till the last paragraph.)
I conclude, then, that there is a real danger of diminishing
pleasure by the attempt to observe and estimate it. But the
danger seems only to arise in the case of very intense pleasures,
and only if the attempt is made at the moment of actual enjoy
ment ; and since the most delightful periods of life have fre
quently recurring intervals of nearly neutral feeling, in which
the pleasures immediately past may be compared and estimated
without any such detriment, I do not regard the objection
founded on this danger as particularly important.
§ 4. More serious, in my opinion, are the objections urged
against the possibility of performing, with definite and trust
worthy results, the comprehensive and methodical comparison
of pleasures and pains which the adoption of the Hedonistic
criterion involves. It is not, of course, denied that it is natural
and habitual to all or most men to compare pleasures and pains
in respect of their intensity : that (e. g.) when we pass from
one state of consciousness to another, or when in any way we are
led to recall a state long past, we often pronounce unhesitatingly
that the present state is more or less pleasant than the past :
that we declare some pleasant experiences to have been " worth,"
and others " not worth," the trouble it took to obtain them, or
the pain that followed them; and so forth. (The rest sub
stantially as in § 2 of Ed. II.)
(p. 120, 1. 20.) This imagination, so far as it involves
conscious inference, seems to be chiefly determined by our own
experience of past pleasures, which are usually recalled generi-
cally, or in large aggregates, though sometimes particular in
stances of important single pleasures occur to us as definitely
remembered : but partly, too, we are influenced by the ex
perience of others sympathetically appropriated.
(p. 121, 1. 9.) We have then to consider whether a pro
cess of this kind can be satisfactorily developed ; a question
CHAP. III.] EMPIRICAL HEDONISM. 69
which seems to resolve itself into the three following; First,
how far can each of us estimate accurately his own past experi
ence of pleasures and pains ? secondly, how far can this know
ledge of the past enable him to forecast, with any certainty,
the greatest happiness within his reach in the future ? thirdly,
how far can he appropriate, for the purposes of such forecasts,
the past experience of others ?
. . .Now for my own part, when I reflect on my pleasures and
pains, and endeavour to compare them in respect of intensity,
it seems to me that the comparative judgments which I pass
are by no means clear and definite, even taking each separately
in its simplest form : — whether the comparison is made at the
moment of experiencing one of the pleasures, or between two
states of consciousness recalled in imagination.... And perhaps
it is still more difficult to compare pure pleasures with pure
pains, and to say how much of the one kind of feeling we
consider to be exactly balanced by a given amount of the
other when they do not occur simultaneously : while an estimate
of simultaneous feelings is, as we have seen, generally unsatis
factory from the mutual interference of their respective causes.
§ 5. But again if these judgments are not clear and definite,
still less are they consistent. I do not now mean that one
man's estimate of the value of any kind of pleasures differs
from another's: for we have assumed each sentient individual
to be the final judge of the pleasantness and painfulness of his
own feelings.
(p. 123, 1. 11.) For example, I find it at this moment
much more easy to recall the discomfort of expectancy which
preceded sea-sickness than the pain of the actual nausea : al
though I infer — from the recollection of judgments passed at
the time — that the former pain was trifling compared with the
latter.
...(p. 124, 1. 2.) But most persons are liable to be thrown
by the prospect of certain pains into the state of passionate
aversion which we call fear ; and thereby led to estimate such
pains as worse than they would be judged to be in a calmer
mood....
§ 6. These considerations place in a clearer light the extent
of the fundamental assumption of Empirical Quantitative
70 THE METHODS OF ETHICS.' [BOOK II.
Hedonism as stated in the preceding chapter : viz. (1) that our
pleasures and pains, considered merely as feelings, have each a
definite degree of desirability or undesirability : and (2) that
this degree is empirically cognizable. In the first place, if we
admit, as was said, that pleasure only exists as it is felt, it is
hard to see how the degree of any pleasure can be proved to
have any real existence. For the pleasure only has the degree
as compared with other feelings, of the same or some different
kind ; but, generally speaking, since this comparison can only
be made in imagination, it can only yield the hypothetical
result that if certain feelings could be felt together, precisely
as they have been felt separately, one would be found more or
less desirable than the other in some definite ratio. What
adequate ground, then, have we for regarding this imaginary
result as a valid representation of reality ? We can only answer
that the general belief in its validity seems to be irresistibly
suggested in reflection on experience, and — though not, strictly
speaking, proved — remains at any rate uncontradicted by ex
perience.
But secondly, granting that each of our pleasures and
pains has really a definite degree of pleasantness and painful-
ness ; the question still remains whether we have actually any
means of accurately knowing these degrees. Is there any
reason to suppose that the mind is ever in such a state as to be
a perfectly neutral and colourless medium for imagining all
kinds of pleasures ? Experience certainly shews us the frequent
occurrence of moods in which we have an apparent bias for or
against a particular kind of feeling. Is it not probable that
there is always some bias of this kind ? that we are always
more in tune for some pleasures, more sensitive to some pains,
than we are to others? Here again it must, I think, be ad
mitted that the exact cognition of the place of each of our
feelings in a scale of desirability, measured positively and
negatively from a zero of perfect indifference, is at best an
ideal to which we can never tell how closely we approximate.
But in the variations of our judgment and the disappointment
of our expectations we have experience of errors of which we
can trace the causes, and allow for them, at least roughly ; cor
recting in thought the defects of imagination. And since what
CHAP. III.] EMPIRICAL HEDONISM. 71
we require for practical guidance is to estimate not individual
past experiences, but the value of a kind of pleasure or pain,
as obtained under certain circumstances or conditions; we can
to some extent diminish the chance of error in this estimate by
making a number of observations and imaginative comparisons,
at different times and in different moods. In so far as these
agree we may legitimately feel an increased confidence in the
result : and in so far as they differ, we can at least reduce our
possible error by striking an average between the different
estimates. It will be evident, however, after all that has
been said, that such a method as this cannot be expected to
yield more than a rough approximation to the supposed truth.
[Here the first paragraph from p. 128 is placed in the new
edition : after which comes the following.]
It may be said, however, that no one, in making such a
forecast, can or does rely entirely on his own experience : when
endeavouring to estimate the probable effect upon his happiness
of new circumstances and influences, untried rules of conduct
and fashions of life, he inevitably argues from the experience of
others. And it is no doubt true that the most important and
anxious deliberations in a man's life, and those in which he
most strongly feels the need of making the hedonistic calcula
tion as complete and exact as possible, generally concern
changes of conduct recommended solely or chiefly by an infer
ence from the advantages that other men have derived from
similar changes. But a new source of error is thus introduced ;
for this inference proceeds on the assumption of a similarity of
nature among human beings
CHAPTER IV.
OBJECTIVE HEDONISM AND COMMON SENSE.
§ 1. BEFORE we examine those methods of seeking one's
own happiness which are more remote from the empirical, inas
much as they change fundamentally the direction of rational aim,
and depend on assumptions which carry us into different lines
of thought ;. it will be well to consider how far we can avoid
the difficulties and uncertainties of the method of reflective
comparison, by relying on the current opinions and accepted
estimates of the value of different objects commonly sought as
sources of pleasure. It certainly seems more natural to men,
at least in the main plan and ordering of their lives, to seek
Jand consciously estimate the objective conditions and sources of
p happiness, rather than happiness itself : and it may plausibly
be said that by relying on such estimates of objects we avoid
the difficulties that beset the introspective method of com
paring feelings : and that the common opinions as to the value
of diflfcrpflf. hfMlffififa of i pleasure express the net result of the
combined experience of mankind from generation to generation ;
in which the divergences due to the limitations of each indi
vidual's experience, and to the differently tinged moods in which
different estimates have been taken, have balanced and neutral
ized each other and so disappeared.
And no doubt many persons are guided more by such
current opinions in the direction of their egoistic aims than
by any hedonistic calculations of their own....
(p. 136 last line but one...) In any case, therefore, each
person will have to correct the estimate of common opinion by
the results of his own experience in order to obtain from it
CHAP. IV.] OBJECTIVE HEDONISM AND COMMON SENSE. 73
trustworthy guidance for his own conduct: and this process
of correction, it would seem, must be involved in all the diffi
culties from which we are trying to escape.
(p. 137, 1. 26). But whether or not they have originally
sprung altogether from experiences of pleasure, they are cer
tainly not at any period of our life exactly in harmony with
the results of such experiences... men are apt to think de
sirable what they strongly desire, whether or not they have
found it conducive to happiness on the whole : and so the
common opinion will tend to represent a compromise between
the average force of desires and the average experience of the
consequences of gratifying them....
§ 2. But, even if we had no doubt on general grounds that
Common Sense would prove our best guide in the pursuit of
happiness, we should still be perplexed by finding its utterances
on this topic very deficient in clearness and consistency. I do
not merely mean that they are different in different ages and
countries : — that we might explain as due to variations in the
general conditions of human life — but that serious conflicts and
ambiguities are found if we consider only the current common
sense of our own age and country. We may perhaps make a
list of sources of happiness apparently recommended by an over
whelming consensus of current opinion : as health, wealth, fame
and social position, power, the enjoyment of society, especially
family society, congenial occupation and amusement, including
the gratification, in some form, of curiosity, and of those more
refined, partly sensual, partly emotional, susceptibilities which
we call aasthetic1....
(p. 141, last line but one)... Certainly whenever any part of
civilized society is in such a state that men can freely indulge
these passions and at the same time avoid the burden of a
family, without any serious fear of social disapprobation, celi
bacy tends to become common : it has even become so common
as to excite the grave anxiety of legislators. And though
such conduct has always been disapproved by common sense,
it seems to have been rather condemned as anti-social than
as imprudent.
1 The consideration of the importance of Morality as a source of happiness
is reserved for the next chapter.
74 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK II.
(p. 143, 1. 19). Catholically authoritative beliefs respecting
the conditions of happiness.
(Additional concluding paragraph.) The question then
remains, whether any general theory can be attained of the
causes of pleasure and pain so certain and practically ap
plicable that we may by its aid rise above the ambiguities
and inconsistencies of common or sectarian opinion, no less
than the shortcomings of the empirical-reflective method, and
establish the Hedonistic art of life on a thoroughly scientific
basis. To the consideration of this question I shall proceed
in the next chapter but one : but before entering upon it, I
wish to examine carefully a common belief as to the means
of attaining happiness which — though it hardly claims to
rest upon a scientific basis — is yet generally conceived by
those who hold it to have a higher degree of certainty than
ordinary current opinions. This is the belief that a man will
attain the greatest happiness open to him by the performance
of his Duty as commonly recognized and prescribed — except so
far as he may deviate from this standard in obedience to a truer
conception of the conduct by which universal good is to be
realized or promoted1. The special importance of this opinion
to a writer on Morals renders it desirable to reserve our dis
cussion of it for a separate chapter.
1 In the following chapter I have not entered into any particular consideration
of the case in which the individual's conscience is definitely in conflict with the
general moral consciousness of his age and country : because, though it is
commonly held to be a man's duty always to obey the dictates of his own con
science, even at the risk of error, it can hardly be said to be a current opinion
that he will always attain the greatest happiness open to him by conforming
to the dictates of his conscience even when it conflicts with received morality.
CHAPTER V.
HAPPINESS AND DUTY.
§ 1. THE belief in the connexion of happiness with Duty
is one to which we find a general tendency among civilized
men, at least after a certain stage in civilisation has been
reached. But it is doubtful whether it would be affirmed,
among ourselves, as a generalization from experience....
(p. 147, 1. 19)... It appears therefore desirable to sub
ject this opinion to a careful and impartial examination.
In conducting this examination, at the present stage of our
enquiry, we shall have to use the received notions of Duty
without further definition or analysis : but it is commonly
assumed by those whose view we are to examine that these
conceptions — as they are found in the moral consciousness of
ordinary well-meaning persons — are at least approximately
valid and trustworthy; and the preceding chapters will have fully
shewn that the generalizations of Hedonism must be esta
blished, if at all, by large considerations and decisive preponder
ances, and that it would be idle in considering a question of
this kind to take account of slight differences, and to pretend
to weigh in our mental scales comparatively small portions of
happiness.
§ 2. Accepting, then, the common division1 of duties into
self-regarding and social,... We may -therefore confine our at
tention to the social department of Duty, and consider whether
by observing the moral rules that prescribe certain modes of
1 Whatever modifications of this division may afterwards appear to be neces
sary (cf. Bk. in. c. 2) will not, I think, tend to invalidate the conclusions of
the present chapter.
76 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK II.
"behaviour towards others we shall always tend to secure the
greatest balance of happiness to ourselves.
(p. 148, 1. 31).... This classification is important, not
merely from the intrinsic differences of the sanctions them
selves but also because the systems of rules to which they
are respectively attached may be mutually conflicting. The
Positive Morality of any community — as no Intuitionist would
deny — undergoes development, and is thus subject to changes
which affect the consciences of the few before they are accepted
by the many ; so that the rules at any time sustained by the
strongest social sanctions, may not only fall short of, but even
clash with, the intuitions of those members of the community
who have most moral insight. For similar reasons Law and
Positive Morality may be at variance, in details. For though
a law could not long exist, which it was universally thought
wrong to obey; there may easily be laws commanding conduct
that is considered immoral by some more or less enlightened
minority of the community, some sect or party that has a
public opinion of its own....
(p. 149, 1. 36)... But even if we put these cases out of
sight, it still seems clear that the external sanctions of morality
alone are not always sufficient to render immoral conduct also
imprudent. I hardly need occupy time in showing that this is
the case with legal sanctions, considered by themselves. We
must indeed admit that in an even tolerably well-ordered
society, i.e. in an ordinary civilized community in its normal
condition, all serious open violation of law is contrary to pru
dence, unless it is an incident in a successful process of violent
revolution : and further, that violent revolutions would very
rarely — perhaps never — be made by a combination of persons,
perfectly under the control of enlightened self-love ; on account
of the general and widespread destruction of security and of
other means of happiness which such disturbances inevitably
involve. Still, so long as actual human beings are not all
rational egoists, such times of disorder will be liable to occur :
and we cannot say that under existing circumstances it is a
clear universal precept of Rational Self-love that a man should
"seek peace and ensue it."... In short, though we may admit
that a society composed entirely of rational egoists would, when
CHAP. V.] HAPPINESS AND DUTY. 77
once organized, be in a stable and orderly condition, it does
not follow that the adoption of rational egoism by a minority
of thoughtful persons would tend to bring about this result
in any existing community.
§ 3. Let us proceed, then, to consider how far the social
sanction in such cases supplies the defects of the legal. No
doubt the hope of praise and liking and services from one's
fellow-men, and the fear of forfeiting these and incurring instead
blame, aversion, refusal of aid, and social exclusion, are considera
tions often important enough to determine the rational egoist to
law-observance, even in default of adequate legal penalties.
Still these sanctions are liable to fail just where the legal
penalties are defective ; social no less than legal penalties are
evaded by secret crimes ; and even in cases of the most clearly
criminal revolutionary violence, the efficacy of the social sanc
tion is apt to be seriously impaired by the party spirit enlisted
on the side of the criminal.... Disesteem is only expressed by
a portion of the community : and its utterance is often drowned
in the loud-voiced applause of the multitude whose admiration
is largely independent of moral considerations.
It seems, then, impossible to affirm, without admitting
important exceptions, that the external sanctions of men's legal
duties will always be sufficient to identify them with their
interests. And a corresponding assertion would be still more
unwarranted in respect of that part of Positive Morality which
extends beyond the sphere of Law. In saying this, I am fully
sensible of the force of what may be called the Principle of Reci
procity.... (p. 153, 1. 13)... On the principle of Reciprocity.. .
while we may reasonably omit our duties to the poor and
feeble, if we find a material advantage in so doing, unless they
are able to excite the sympathy of persons who can harm us.
Moreover, some vices, (as for example, many kinds of sensuality
and extravagant luxury) do not inflict any immediate or obvious
injury on any individual, though they tend in the long run
to impair the general happiness : hence few persons find them
selves strongly moved to check or punish this kind of mis
chief.
It may perhaps be said that in the last-mentioned cases the
mere disrepute inevitably attaching to open immorality is suffi-
78 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BooK II.
cient to render it always really imprudent. But I do not think
that this will be seriously maintained by any one who has duly
considered the variety of coexisting codes, which we everywhere
find when we examine the actual condition of those bodies — or
rather streams — of social opinion upon which the good or
ill repute of individuals mainly depends.... More generally, we
may almost say that in most civilized societies there are two
different degrees of positive morality, both maintained in some
sort by common consent; a stricter code being publicly taught
and avowed, while a laxer set of rules is privately admitted as
the only code which can be supported by social sanctions of any
great force. By refusing to conform to the stricter code a man
is often not liable to incur exclusion from social intercourse, or
any material hindrance to professional advancement, or even
serious dislike on the part of any of the persons whose society
he will most naturally seek ; and under such circumstances the
mere loss of a certain amount of reputation is not likely to be
felt as a very grave evil, except by persons peculiarly sensitive
to the pleasures and pains of reputations. I admit the difficulty
of giving a general estimate of the relative hedonistic value of
this class of feelings, which no doubt varies very much with
different individuals : but at any rate we may say that there
are many men whose happiness does not appear to depend on
the approbation or disapprobation of the moralist — and of
mankind in general in so far as they support the moralist —
to such an extent as to make it prudent for them to purchase
this praise by any great sacrifice of other goods.
§ 4. We must conclude, then, that if the conduct pre
scribed to the individual by the highest morality of the commu
nity of which he is a member can be shewn to coincide with
that to which Rational Self-love would prompt, it must be, in
many cases, on the score of the internal sanctions only. In con
sidering the force of these sanctions... (p. 155, 1. 31), there are
very strong grounds for believing that they are not sufficiently
intense to turn the balance of prospective happiness always in
favour of duty. This will hardly be denied if the question is
raised in respect of isolated acts of duty. Let us take an
extreme case, which is yet quite within the limits of experience.
The call of duty has often impelled a soldier or other public
CHAP. V.] HAPPINESS AND DUTY. 79
servant, or the adherent of a persecuted religion, to face cer
tain and painful death, under circumstances where it might be
avoided with little or no loss even of reputation. To prove
such conduct always reasonable from an egoistic point of view,
we have to assume that, in all cases where such a duty could
exist and be recognized, the mere pain1 that would follow on
evasion of duty would be so great as to render the whole re
mainder of life hedonistically worthless.... (p. 156, 1. 16) This
practice had not made them love virtue so much as to prefer it,
even under ordinary circumstances, to the sensual and other
enjoyments that it excludes. It seems then absurd to sup
pose that, in the case of persons who have not developed and
strengthened by habit their virtuous impulses, the pain that
might afterwards result from resisting the call of duty would
always be sufficient to neutralize all other sources of pleasure...
(1. 25) Can we say that all, or even most, men are so constituted
that the satisfactions of a good conscience are certain to repay
them for such sacrifices, or that the pain and loss involved in
them would certainly be outweighed by the remorse that would
follow the refusal to make them ?
Perhaps, however, so much as this has scarcely ever been
expressly maintained. What Plato in his most famous treatise,
and others since Plato, have rather tried to prove, is not that at
any particular moment duty will be, to every one on whom
it may devolve, productive of more happiness than any other
course of conduct : but rather that it is every one's interest on
the whole to choose the life of the virtuous man. But even
this is very difficult even to render probable....
1 Under the notion of 'moral pain' (or pleasure) I intend to include, in this
argument, all pain (or pleasure) that is due to sympathy with the feelings of
others. It is not convenient to enter, at this stage of the discussion, into a full
discussion of the relation of Sympathy to Moral Sensibility : but I may say that
it seems to me certain, on the one hand, that these two emotional susceptibilities
are actually distinct in most minds, whatever they may have been originally ;
and on the other hand that sympathetic and strictly moral feelings are almost
inextricably blended in the ordinary moral consciousness: so that, for the pur
poses of the present argument it is not of fundamental importance to draw a dis
tinction between them. I have, however, thought it desirable to undertake a
further examination of sympathy — as the internal sanction on which Utilitarians
specially lay stress— in the concluding chapter of this treatise : to which, accord
ingly, the reader may refer.
80 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BooK II.
(p. 159, 1. 24)... On a careful consideration of the matter, it
will appear, I think, that this abdication of self-love is not really
a possible occurrence in the mind of a sane person, who still re
gards his own interest as the reasonable ultimate end of his
actions. Such a man may, no doubt, resolve that he will devote
himself unreservedly to the practice of virtue, without any par
ticular consideration of what appears to him to be his interest: he
may perform a series of acts in accordance with this resolution,
and these may gradually form in him strong habitual tendencies
to acts of a similar kind. But it does not seem that these habits
of virtue can ever become so strong as to gain irresistible con
trol over a sane and reasonable will. When the occasion comes
on which virtue demands from such a man an extreme sacrifice
— the imprudence of which must force itself upon his notice,
however little he may be in the habit of weighing his own
pleasures and pains — he must always be able to deliberate
afresh, and to act (as far as the control of his will extends)
without reference to his past actions. It may, however, be
said that though an egoist retaining his belief in rational egoism
cannot thus abandon his will to the sway of moral enthusiasm :
still, supposing it possible for him to change his conviction and
prefer duty to interest, or supposing we compare him with
another man who makes this choice, we shall find that a gain
in happiness on the whole results from this preference. It may
be held that there is so great a difference in respect of pleasure
between the emotions attendant upon such virtuous or quasi-
virtuous habits as are compatible with adhesion to egoistic
principles, and the raptures that attend the unreserved and
passionate surrender of the soul to virtue; that it is really a
man's interest — even with a view to the present life only — to
obtain, if he can, the convictions that render this surrender
possible, although under certain circumstances it must neces
sarily lead him to act in a manner which, considered by itself
would be undoubtedly imprudent. This is certainly a tenable
proposition and I am quite disposed to think it true of persons
with specially refined moral sensibilities. But — though from
the imperfections of the hedonistic calculus the proposition
cannot in any case be conclusively disproved — it seems to me
opposed to the broad results of experience, so far as the
CHAP. V.] HAPPINESS AND DUTY. 81
great majority of mankind are concerned. As I have before
said experience would lead us to suppose that most men are so
constituted as to feel far more keenly pleasures (and pains)
arising from some other source than the conscience; either from
the gratifications of sense, or from the possession of power and
fame, or from strong human affections, or from the pursuit of
science, art, &c. ; so that in many cases perhaps not even early
training could have succeeded in giving to the moral feelings
the requisite predominance : and certainly where this training
has been wanting, it seems highly improbable that a mere
change of ethical conviction could develope their moral suscep
tibilities so far as to make it clearly their earthly interest to
resolve on facing all sacrifices for the fulfilment of duty.
CHAPTER VI.
OTHER METHODS OF EGOISTIC HEDONISM.
§ 1. IN the preceding chapter we have seen reason to con
clude that, while the habit of obeying recognized rules of duty
is, under ordinary circumstances, an important source of happi
ness to the agent, there are yet no adequate empirical grounds
for regarding the performance of duty as a universal or infallible
means to the attainment of this end. Even, however, if it were
otherwise, even if it were demonstrably reasonable for the
egoist to choose duty at all costs under all circumstances, the
systematic endeavour to realize this principle would not —
according to common notions of morality — solve or supersede
the problem of determining the right method for seeking hap
piness. For the received moral code allows within limits the
pursuit of our own happiness, and even seems to regard it as
morally prescribed1 ; and still more emphatically inculcates the
promotion of the happiness of other individuals, with whom we
are in various ways specially connected : so that, under either
head, the questions that we have been considering as to the
determination and measurement of the elements of happiness
would still have to be answered in some way or other.
It remains to ask how far a scientific investigation of the
causes of pleasure and pain can assist us in dealing with this
practical problem.
Here, in the first place, a distinction has to be made of
1 " It should seem that a due concern about our own interest or happiness,
" and a reasonable endeavour to secure and promote it,... is virtue, and the con
trary behaviour faulty and blamable." Butler (in the dissertation 'of the
' nature of Virtue ' appended to the Analogy).
CHAP. VI.] OTHER METHODS OF EGOISTIC HEDONISM. 83
fundamental importance. It is obvious that for deciding which
of two courses of action is preferable on hedonistic grounds, we
require not only to measure pains and pleasures of different
kinds, but also to ascertain how they may be produced or
averted. In most important prudential decisions, a complex
chain of consequences, often very long, is foreseen as inter
vening between the volition we are immediately to initiate and
the states of consciousness which constitute the ultimate end
of our efforts ; and the degree of accuracy with which we fore
cast each link of this chain — and of other chains compared with
it — obviously depends upon our knowledge, implicit or explicit,
of the relations of cause and effect among various natural phe
nomena. But if we suppose the different elements and imme
diate sources of happiness to have been duly ascertained and
valued, the investigation of the conditions of production of each
does not, I conceive, belong to a general treatise on the method
of ethics ; but rather to some one or other of the special arts
subordinate to the general art of conduct. Of these subordi
nate arts some have a more or less scientific basis ; while others
are in a merely empirical stage and can only be to a very slight
extent communicated in a general form. Thus, if we have
decided how far health is to be sought, it belongs to the syste
matic art of medicine, based on physiological science, to furnish
a detailed plan of seeking it ; so far, on the other hand, as we
aim at power or wealth or domestic happiness, such instruction
as the experience of others can give will be chiefly obtained in
an unsystematic form, either from advice relative to our own
special circumstances, or from biographical or other accounts of
success and failure in analogous situations. In either case the
exposition of such special arts does not appear to come within
the scope of the present treatise ; and it is obvious that it could
not help us to avoid the difficulties of measuring pleasures and
pains, which we have considered in the previous chapters.
It seems, however, to be thought by some persons that
a knowledge of the causes of pleasure and pain may carry us
beyond the determination of the means of gaining particular
kinds of pleasure and avoiding particular kinds of pain ; may
enable us, in fact, to substitute some deductive method of
e valuing the elements of happiness generally for the empirical-
G— 2
84 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK II.
reflective method of which we have seen the defects. This
view may perhaps have been suggested to some readers by Mr
Herbert Spencer's statement1 that "it is the business of moral
science to deduce, from the laws of life and the conditions of
existence, what kind of actions necessarily tend to produce hap
piness, and what kinds to produce unhappiness," and that when
it has done this, " its deductions are to be recognized as laws of
conduct ; and are to be conformed to irrespective of a direct
estimate of happiness or misery." Mr Spencer, however, has
made clear in his latest treatise that the only cogent deductions
of this kind which he conceives to be possible relate to the be
haviour not of men here and now, but of ideal men living in
an ideal society, and living under conditions so unlike those of
actual humanity that all their actions produce " pleasure unal
loyed by pain anywhere2." The laws — or uniformities — of con
duct in this Utopia constitute, in Mr Spencer's view, the sub
ject-matter of "Absolute Ethics;" which he distinguishes from
the " Relative Ethics " that concerns itself with the conduct of
the imperfect men who live under the present imperfect social
conditions, and of which the method is, as he admits, to a great
extent " necessarily empirical3." How far such a system as Mr
Spencer calls Absolute Ethics can be rationally constructed, and
how far its construction would be practically useful, I shall
consider further in a later part of this treatise, when I come to
deal with the method of Universalistic Hedonism4: these ques
tions do not concern us at present5, since I do not understand
even Mr Spencer to maintain that his Absolute Ethics is capa
ble of furnishing important practical guidance to an individual
seeking his own greatest happiness here and now.
Mr Spencer's authority, therefore, cannot properly be quoted
in favour of any method of seeking one's own happiness which
claims to dispense with direct estimates of the pleasurable and
painful consequences of actions. Indeed a hedonistic method
that would dispense with such estimates altogether is almost as
1 In a letter to J. S. Mill, published in Mr Bain's Mental and Moral Science;
and partially reprinted in Mr Spencer's Data of Ethics, ch. iv. § 21.
2 Data of Ethics, ch. xv. § 101. 3 Id. § 108.
4 Book iv. ch. iv.
5 They have been already considered to some extent in Book i. ch. ii. § 2.
CHAP. VL] OTHER METHODS OF EGOISTIC HEDONISM. 85
inconceivable as a method of astronomy that would dispense with
observations of the stars. It is, however, conceivable that by
induction from cases in which empirical measurement is easy
we may obtain generalizations that will give us more trust
worthy guidance than such measurement can do in complicated
cases ; we may be able to ascertain some general psychical or
physical concomitant or antecedent of pleasure and pain, more
easy to recognize, foresee, measure, and produce or avert in such
cases, than pleasure and pain themselves. I am quite disposed
to hope that this refuge from the difficulties of Empirical He
donism may some time or other be open to us : but I cannot
perceive that it is at present possible. There is at present, so
far as I can judge, no satisfactorily established general theory of
the causes of pleasure and pain ; and such theories as have most
currency are not adapted for the practical application that we
require.
§ 2. To shew this, I will briefly examine some of the
current theories on this subject. We may begin by noticing
the doctrine of Sir William Hamilton1, which refers pleasure
and pain to certain immediate psychical antecedents; defining
pleasure as the "reflex" — i.e. immediate consequent — of "spon
taneous and unimpeded energy of a power of whose energy
we are conscious," and pain as the "reflex of overstrained or
repressed exertion." The phrases seem to me misleading ; since
all the terms suggest active as ordinarily distinguished from
passive states, whereas Hamilton explains that " energy " and
similar terms "are to be understood to denote indifferently all
the processes of our higher and lower life of which we are
conscious," on the ground that consciousness itself implies more
than a mere passivity of the subject. And I think that Hamilton
has been misled by his own terms ; and that he does not always
keep this wider meaning clearly in view. Thus he says that
every energy has "an object about which it is conversant;"
and distinguishes "spontaneous" and "unimpeded" as referring
respectively to the absence of effort and constraint on the part
1 It seems that Hamilton's theory still finds at least a modified acceptance
in some quarters— in France, if not in England. Cf. Bouillier, Du Plaisir et de
la Douleur, ch. iii. ; and L. Dumont, Theorie Scienti/ique de la Semibilite,
ch. iii.
8f> THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK II.
of the subject, and the absence of obstacles on the part of the
object. But what meaning has this distinction in relation to
organic feelings of the kind ordinarily called passive — i.e. only
active in the sense that we are conscious of them ? The con
sciousness accompanying a toothache is as much without effort
or constraint on the part of the subject1 as the consciousness of
a warm bath — except so far as " constraint " is implied in the
very definition of pain, since it is a feeling that we have, though
we desire not to have it ; but since this constraint is an essential
characteristic of the effect to be explained, no step towards
explanation is gained by attributing the same characteristic to
its cause. And even if we confine the theory to pleasures that
depend on voluntary action, it cannot be regarded as satisfactory.
It is not true that the exercise of our powers is always made
less pleasant by the presence of obstacles ; since some obstacles
increase pleasure by drawing out force and skill to overcome
them, as in the case of games and sports : and even if we
understand "unimpeded" to imply the absence of such obstacles
as repress and dimmish action, I do not think that the criterion
is supported by experience, except so far as the repression
causes the specific discomfort of unsatisfied desire. I do not find
that the mere weakening or shortening of a pleasure through
unfavourable external conditions, has any tendency to turn it
into a pain unless it carries with it the sense of a disappointed
craving for more pleasure ; which is by no means always the
case, to any appreciable extent.
The theory becomes more plausible if we drop the antithesis
of "spontaneous" and "unimpeded," and, passing to a physical
point of view, mean by "activity" the activity of an organ.
We thus reach what is substantially Mr Spencer's doctrine, that
pains are the psychical concomitants of excessive or deficient
actions of organs, while pleasures are the concomitants of
medium activities2; where "excessive" and "deficient" are to
be understood in a merely quantitative sense, as meaning action
above or below a certain degree of intensity. In considering
1 It must be remembered that the 'subject' in Hamilton's philosophic ter
minology is the mind as distinguished from the body. Cf. Lecture* on Metap/n/-
sics, ch. ix. "Explication of Terms."
2 Psychology, ch. ix. § 128.
CHAP. VI.] OTHER METHODS OF EGOISTIC HEDONISM. 87
this theory it will be convenient to take pleasures and pains
separately. As applied to pains, the formula no doubt corre
sponds to a good deal of our sensible experience ; any one can
easily recall a number of cases in which the mere intensification
of the action of an organ turns the accompanying feeling from
pleasant or indifferent into painful. Thus when we gradually
increase the intensity of sensible heat, pressure, muscular effort,
we encounter pain at a certain point of the increase ; " deafen
ing " sounds are highly disagreeable : and to confront a tropical
sun with unprotected eye-balls would soon become torture.
And it is noteworthy that, as Spencer points out, some pains
arise from the excessive actions of organs whose normal actions
yield no feelings : as when the digestive apparatus is over
taxed. On the other hand I cannot but regard as unwarranted
the general conclusion which Wundt1 founds on these instances ;
that there is no quality of sensation absolutely pleasant or
unpleasant, but that every kind of sensation as it grows in
intensity begins at a certain point to be pleasurable and con
tinues such up to a certain further point at which it passes
rapidly through indifference into pain. I cannot agree with
Wundt that all disagreeable odours and flavours may be made
positively agreeable by diminution ; I find that some are dis
agreeable till they become indifferent and then vanish; hence
I should refer the discomfort they cause to some kind of dis
cordant, jarring, inharmonious action of the respective nerves,
rather than to mere excess of action. A similar explanation
suggests itself for the digestive discomforts which arise, as many
do, from an improper kind rather than an improper quantity of
food : and even more obviously for the important class of pains
which are clearly connected with destruction or disease of organs
and tissues, whether due to external or to internal causes.
So again, among pleasurable sensations some certainly might bo
named which shew no capacity of being further intensified into
pains — at least in healthy persons. While in the case of emo
tional pains and pleasures, the notion of quantitative difference
seems altogether inapplicable : the pains of shame, disappointed
ambition, wounded love, do not appear to be distinguishable
from the pleasures of fame, success, reciprocated affection, by
1 Gnindziiyc der plnjsioloyisclicn PxycJioloyie, cli. x.
THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK II.
any difference of intensity in the impressions or ideas accom
panied by the pleasures and pains respectively. On the other
hand, if the explanation above suggested be adopted, we are
enabled to regard the pains that, according to Mr Spencer, arise
from " deficient " action as fundamentally similar in respect of
physical causation with those which he attributes to excessive
action. As I have before observed ', we have to distinguish from
pains mere " cravings " which may be powerful as impulses to
action, without being painful in any appreciable degree : and,
so far as my experience goes, it is not the mere inaction of an
organ that causes pain, but only such degree of inaction as is
beginning to produce some kind of derangement in the organ.
Thus hunger, in my experience, may be extremely keen without
being at all painful ; and when it becomes really painful, a
temporarily reduced power of assimilation is apt to follow,
shewing that the digestive apparatus has been somewhat dis
organized.
However this may be, whether we conceive the nervous
action of which pain is an immediate consequent or concomitant
as merely excessive in quantity, or in some way discordant or
disorganized in quality, it is obvious that neither explanation
can furnish us with any important practical guidance : since we
have no general means of ascertaining, independently of our
experience of pain itself, what nervous actions are excessive or
disorganized : and the cases where we have such means do not
present any practical problems which the theory enables us to
solve. No one doubts that wounds and diseases are to be
avoided under all ordinary circumstances : and in the excep
tional circumstances in which we may be moved to choose them
as the least of several evils, the exactest knowledge of their
precise operation in causing pain is not likely to assist our
choice.
Still less useful, if possible, is the theory above discussed in
its relation to pleasure. In the first place, even if we consent
to attribute all pains to " excessive action," the broad statement
that pleasures are the concomitants of moderate or normal
activities of organs or tissues remains primd facie opposed to
common experience : in the routine of ordinary daily life
] Book i. ch. iv.
CHAP. VI.] OTHER METHODS OF EGOISTIC HEDONISM. 89
pleasure, in any recognizable degree, appears as an occasional
phenomenon, the majority of states in which consciousness is
of moderate intensity being nearly or quite indifferent. And I
know no grounds— except the exigencies of theoretical symmetry
— for adopting Mr Grant Allen's suggestion that " doubtless
every activity when not excessive or of a sort destructive to the
tissues is in itself faintly pleasurable; but owing to the com
monness and faintness of the feeling we habitually disregard
it1." Certainly, so far as my own experience goes, the most
careful introspection would leave indifference at least a fre
quently recurring characteristic of the normal processes of
commonplace, everyday, life.
At any rate, all admit that the intensity of pleasure bears
no proportion to the intensity of the " medium activity " of which
the pleasure is a concomitant. How are we to explain this ?
One part of the explanation, I have no doubt, is to be found in
the preponderant objectivity of our everyday consciousness, the
absorption of our attention in contemplation of, or action upon,
the objective world : this absorption certainly seems to prevent
small pleasures from being felt, and therefore, in my view, from
existing as pleasures. The experience of pleasure and pain
involves an intensification of the consciousness of self that is
faint or evanescent in a great part of our ordinary life : hence
Wundt, speaking of pleasures of sense, is inclined to see in the
pleasure (or pain) the "symptom of a more central process"
than that psychically manifested in the quality or strength of
the sense-impression itself. But this seems to me erroneous;
as I apprehend my own experience, intensity of pleasure or
pain is rather antecedent and cause of the intensification of self-
consciousness which attends it ; while on the other hand this
intensification of selfconsciousness often occurs without the
presence of pleasure or pain in an appreciable degree.
Some quite different explanation must therefore be sought
for the varying degrees in which pleasure accompanies normal
activities. Can we find this in a suggestion of Mr Spencer's,
developed by Mr Grant Allen, that the pleasurableness of normal
activities depends on their intermittence, and that " the amount
of pleasure is probably... in the inverse ratio of the natural
1 Phytiological Aesthetics, ch. ii.
90 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK II.
frequency of excitation " of the nerve-fibres involved. This
theory certainly finds some support in the fact that the sensual
pleasures generally recognized as greatest are those attending
the activities of organs which are normally left unexercised for
considerable intervals. On the other hand it does not explain
the great differences in the pleasures obtainable at any given
time by different stimulations of the same sense : and there are
certain facts in my own experience that appear to conflict with
it — e.g. that the exercise of the visual organs after apparently
dreamless sleep does not give appreciably keener pleasure than
it does at ordinary times. But accepting the theory as partially
true, we may still ask how the intermittence operates. The
effect can hardly be attributed — as Mr Spencer and Mr Grant
Allen seem rather inclined to attribute it — to the greater
intensity of the nervous action that takes place when long
unexercised and well nourished nerve-centres begin to act : for
why, if that were the explanation, should the normal conscious
ness of full nervous activity, gradually attained — as when we
are in the full swing of energetic unwearied work of a routine
kind — be nearly or quite indifferent ? It would seem rather
that the pleasure of intermittent activities must depend on the
freshness of the activities ; i.e. on their relation to the states of
inaction that precede them.
This leads us to the doctrine of Mr Bain1 that "states of
pleasure are concomitant with an increase, and states of pain
with an abatement of some or all of the vital functions:" which
Mr Spencer seems to identify with his own broader but vaguer
proposition, that " every pleasure increases vitality, every pain
decreases vitality2." This doctrine, Mr Spencer says, "is put
beyond dispute by general experience as well as by the more
special experience of medical men." If this be so, I certainly
think that the indisputable conclusion should be more precisely
defined. Let us take pain first ; it clearly cannot be meant
that pain is normally accompanied by abatement in the action
of the organ primarily concerned ; since we have just heard
1 A doctrine to a great extent similar to this has been maintained by earlier
writers — e. g. Hobbes — but it appears to me more profitable to criticize it in the
form in which Mr Bain has stated it.
2 Data of Ethics, ch. v. § 36 and note.
CHAP. VI.] OTHER METHODS OF EGOISTIC HEDONISM. 91
Mr Spencer say that pain accompanies excessive actions. Is it
then meant that excessive action of a special organ, when it
reaches the degree of pain, is accompanied by a decrease in the
activity of the system generally ? This is obviously not true of
pains that can be repelled by muscular action ; the immediate
effect of these is to stir and brace the nervous system for the
requisite activities : and I think we may go further and say
that even where no such repellent action would be useful, the
total effect of moderate and transient pains appears to be often
tonic and stimulating rather than depressing. Intense pain, if
at all prolonged, no doubt tends to be followed by nervous
exhaustion : bat this is also true of prolonged pleasurable
excitement — as e.g. of gambling or novel reading at night.
Again, while I do not deny that the immediate effect of specific
pleasures on the vital functions generally is stimulating ; I
should hold that mere stimulation, mere increase of activity,
may be produced, in an equal degree, not only — as I have said — •
by pains, but also by the neutral excitements of desire, aversion,
suspense, surprise. And even if we limit the assertion, as re
gards pleasure, to the activities of the special organ or tissue
primarily concerned, I do not see how we can attribute the
pleasure of intermitted activities to the mere amount of change
that occurs when they begin to be exercised ; for great and
sudden nervous changes often produce only the neutral excite
ment which we call surprise, and not pleasure at all.
It does not therefore seem to me that mere increase of
functioning, mere quantity of change within normal limits, can
be properly regarded as the physical concomitant or immediate
antecedent of pleasure. So far as the cause of pleasure is
rightly held to lie in a relation of transition between the nervous
state of which pleasure is the psychical concomitant and the
antecedent state of the nervous system, it must be in some
more special kind or kinds of such relation. We find that the
sudden transition from the state of pain causes the pleasure of
"relief," the transition from the tension of desire causes the
pleasure of satisfaction, the transition from muscular or intel
lectual exertion not perceptibly painful causes a pleasurable
sensation of rest; and perhaps we may some day bring these
cases — and others in which we cannot now discern any affinity
92 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK II.
with these — under a clearer common conception than we are at
present able to do. But for our present purpose it would
hardly be worth while to pursue this psychophysical speculation
any further; since it must evidently have reached a much
more advanced stage before it can furnish us with any practical
criterion for the attainment of the greatest pleasure possible.
I may suggest, however, that in certain cases of apparently
simple pleasures, where we have no ground for explaining the
character of the consciousness by reference to any kind of
transition or contrast, it may probably be due to some latent
harmony between different elements of feeling, or of the nervous
action which immediately precedes or accompanies it : i. e. to
a cause similar in kind to that which is manifestly operative in
the case of the complex pleasures which we distinguish as
" aesthetic." These latter undoubtedly constitute an important
element in the total happiness of cultivated persons : but the
difficult task of explaining them is one which, I conceive, we
are not here called upon to attempt ; since the impossibility of
giving any such explanation of them as would at all enable us
to predict their intensity in any particular case would be almost
universally admitted. All would agree that aesthetic gratifica
tion, when at all high, depends on a subtle harmony of different
elements in a complex state of consciousness ; and that the
pleasure resulting from such harmonious combination is indefi
nitely greater than the sum of the simpler pleasures which the
uncombined elements would yield1. But even those who esti
mate most highly the success that has so far been attained in
discovering the conditions of this harmony, in the case of any
particular art, would admit that mere conformity to the condi
tions thus ascertained cannot secure the production of aesthetic
pleasure in any considerable degree. However subtly we state
in general terms the objective relations of elements in a de-
1 Writers who would agree in this general statement would differ consider
ably as to the more or less intellectual interpretation to be given to the aesthetic
sensibility. Some would attribute the aesthetic result merely to the mutual
strengthening of feelings having some degree of similarity or affinity ; others
would suppose an, at least, semi-conscious perception of ordered differences,
"unity and variety." Both these views appear to me to be partially true: but
the question is one which it would here be unduly discursive to discuss at all
adequately.
CHAP. VI.] OTHER METHODS OF EGOISTIC HEDONISM. 93
lightful work of art, on which its delight seems to depend, we
must always feel that it would be possible to produce out of
similar elements a work corresponding to our general descrip
tion which would give no delight at all ; the touch that gives
delight depends upon an instinct for which no deductive rea
soning can supply a substitute. This is true, even without
taking into account the wide divergences that we actually find
in the aesthetic sensibilities of individuals : still less, therefore,
is it needful to argue that, from the point of view of an indi
vidual seeking his own greatest happiness, none but a mainly
inductive and empirical method of estimating aesthetic pleasures
can be made available.
§ 3. I now pass to consider a theory which may be dis
tinguished from those discussed in the preceding section as
being biological rather than psychophysical : since it directs
attention not to the actual present characteristics of the organic
states or changes of which pleasures and pains are the concomi
tants or immediate consequents, but to their relations to the
life of the organism as a whole. I mean the theory that
"pains are the correlatives of actions injurious to the organism,
while pleasures are the correlatives of acts conducive to its
welfare." Mr Spencer, from whom the above propositions are
quoted1, subsequently explains "injurious" and "conducive to
welfare" to mean respectively "tending to decrease or loss of
life," and " tending to continuance or increase of life " : but in
the deductive argument by which the above conclusion is sum
marily established "injurious" and "beneficial" are used as
equivalent simply to " destructive " and " preservative " of
organic life : and it will be more convenient to take them
first in this simpler signification.
Mr Spencer's argument is as follows :
" If we substitute for the word Pleasure the equivalent phrase —
a feeling which we seek to bring into consciousness and retain there,
and if we substitute for the word Pain the equivalent phrase —
a feeling which we seek to get out of consciousness and to keep out ;
we see at once that, if the states of consciousness which a creature
endeavours to maintain are the correlatives of injurious actions, and
if the states of consciousness which it endeavours to expel are the
correlatives of beneficial actions, it must quickly disappear through
1 Principles of Psychology, § 125, and Data of Ethics, § 33.
94 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK IT.
persistence in the injurious and avoidance of the beneficial. In other
words, those races of beings only can have survived in which, on the
average, agreeable or desired feelings went along with activities con
ducive to the maintenance of life, while disagreeable and habitually-
avoided feelings went along with activities directly or indirectly
destructive of life; and there must ever have been, other things
equal, the most numerous and long-continued survivals among races
in which these adjustments of feelings to actions were the best,
tending ever to bring about perfect adjustment."
Now I am not concerned to deny the value of this summary
deduction for certain purposes. But if we consider it from the
special point of view with which alone we are here concerned —
in respect, namely, of the possibility of basing on it a deductive
method of seeking maximum happiness for the individual, by
substituting Preservation for Pleasure as the end directly aimed
at — its inadequacy to afford such a basis is manifest on several
grounds. To begin : Mr Spencer only affirms the conclusion to
be true, as he rather vaguely says, " on the average " : and it is
obvious that though the tendency to find injurious acts pleasant
or preservative acts painful must be a disadvantage to any
species of animal in the struggle for existence, it may — if
existing only to a limited extent — be outweighed by other
advantages, so that the organism in which it exists may survive
in spite of it. This, I say, is obvious a priori : and common
experience, as Mr Spencer admits, sbews " in many conspicuous
ways " that this has been actually the case witb civilized man
during the whole period of history that we know : owing to the
changes caused by the course of civilization, " there has arisen
and must long continue a deep and involved derangement of
tbe natural connexions between pleasures and beneficial actions
and between pains and detrimental actions." This seems to
give a sufficiently strong presumption against the possibility of
founding a deductive method of Hedonism on Mr Spencer's
general conclusion. But, from our present point of view, we
are perhaps less concerned with tbe notorious tendency of
civilized men to take pleasure in various forms of unhealthy
conduct and to find conformity to the rules of health irksome ;
it is more important to note that tbey may be, and actually are,
susceptible of keen pleasure from acts and processes that have
no material tendency to preserve life. It need hardly be said
CHAP. VI.] OTHER METHODS OF EGOISTIC HEDONISM. 95
that the "evolution hypothesis" affords us no general solution
of the psychophysical question as to the relation of nervous
action to feeling : hence we cannot argue from it a priori that
the development of the nervous system in human beings may
not bring with it intense susceptibilities to pleasures from non-
preservative processes, if only the preservation of the individuals
in whom such susceptibilities are developed is otherwise ade
quately provided. Now this latter supposition is obviously
realized in the case of persons of leisure in civilized society ;
whose needs of food, clothing, shelter, &c., are abundantly sup
plied through the complex social habit which we call the insti
tution of private property : and I know no empirical ground for
supposing that a cultivated man tends, in consequence of the
keen and varied pleasures which he seeks and enjoys, to live
longer than a man who goes through a comparatively dull
round of monotonous routine activity, interspersed by slightly
pleasurable intervals of repose and play.
§ 4. If, however, the individual is not likely to obtain a
maximum of Pleasure by aiming merely at Preservation, it
remains to consider whether "increase of life" will serve any
better.
(Then follows the substance of pp. 167—171 of Ed. II.,
shortened and rearranged : then the following paragraph :)
There is, however, another and simpler way in which the
maxim of 'giving free development to one's nature' may be
— and often has been — understood : i. e. in the sense of yielding
to spontaneous impulses, instead of endeavouring to govern
these by elaborate forecasts of consequences. This course is
doubtless frequently taken by persons who do not find it neces
sary to provide themselves with a scientific justification for it:
but such a justification has been found in the theory that
spontaneous or instinctive impulses really represent the effects
on the organism in which they appear — or its ancestors — of
previous experiences of pleasure and pain. Hence, it has been
maintained that in complicated problems of conduct, experience
will " enable the constitution to estimate the respective amounts
of pleasure and pain consequent upon each alternative," where it
is " impossible for the intellect " to do this : and " will further
cause the organism instinctively to shun that course which
96 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BooK IT.
produces on the whole most suffering1." That there is an im
portant element of truth in this contention I would not deny.
(Then follow pp. 164, 5 of Ed. II., slightly modified: then
the concluding paragraph of the Book.)
1 The quotations are from Mr Spencer's Social Statics, ch. iv : but I should
infer from the manner in which Mr Spencer has referred to this earlier work in
his more recent Data of Ethics that no doctrine in Social Statics can now
with certainty be attributed to the author. I ought to add further that in
the passage quoted Mr Spencer is not writing from the point of view of Egoistic
Hedonism.
BOOK III.
INTUITIONISM.
CHAPTER I.
INTUITIONISM.
§ 1 (p. 176 after 1. 19). ...In saying this, Butler appears
to me fairly to represent the common moral sense of ordinary
mankind, in our own age no less than in his. The moral
judgments that men habitually pass on one another in ordi
nary discourse imply for the most part that duty is usually
not a difficult thing for an ordinary man to know, though
various seductive impulses may make it difficult for him
to do it. And in such maxims as that duty should be per
formed 'advienne qui pourra,' that truth should be spoken
without regard to consequences, that justice should be done
'though the sky should fall/ it is implied that we have the
power of seeing clearly, within a certain range, what actions
are right and reasonable in themselves, apart from their con
sequences ; — or rather with a merely partial consideration of
consequences, from which other consequences admitted to be
possibly good or bad are definitely excluded1. And such a
power is claimed for the human mind by most of the writers
1 I have before observed (Book i. ch. viii. § 1) that in the common notion of
an act we include a certain portion of the whole series of changes partly caused
by the volition which initiated the so-called act.
s. 7
98 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK III.
who have maintained the existence of moral intuitions ; I have
therefore thought myself justified in treating this_ claim as
characteristic of the method which I distinguish as Intuitional.
At the same time, as I have before observed, there is a wider
sense in which the term 'intuitional1 might be legitimately
applied to either Egoistic or Universalistic Hedonism ; so
far as either system lays down as a first principle — which if
known at all must be intuitively known — that happiness is the
only rational ultimate end of action. To this meaning I shall
recur in the concluding chapters (xin. and XIV.) of this book ;
in which I shall discuss more fully the intuitive character of
these hedonistic principles. But since the adoption of this
wider meaning would not lead us to a distinct ethical method,
I have thought it best, in the detailed discussion of Intui-
tionism which occupies the first eleven chapters of this book,
to confine myself as far as possible to Moral Intuition under
stood in the narrower sense above defined.
§ 2. Here, perhaps, it may be said that in thus defining
Intuitionism I have omitted its most fundamental character
istic ; that the Intuitionist properly speaking — in contrast with
the Utilitarian — does not j udge actions by an external standard
at all ; that true morality, in his view, is not concerned with
outward actions as such, but with the state of mind in which
acts are done — in short with "intentions" and "motives."
I think, however, that this objection is partly due to a mis
understanding. Moralists of all schools, I conceive, would agree
that the moral judgments which we pass on actions relate
primarily to intentional actions regarded as intentional. In
other words, what we judge to be ' wrong ' — in the strictest
Ethical sense — is not any part of the actual effects, as such, of
the muscular movements immediately caused by the agent's
volition, but the effects which he foresaw in willing the act;
or, more strictly, his volition or choice of realising the effects as
foreseen \ When I speak therefore of acts, I must be under-
1 No doubt we hold a man responsible for unintended bad consequences of
his acts or omissions, when they are such as he might with ordinary care have
foreseen ; still, as I have before said (p. 57), we admit on reflection that moral
blame only attaches to such careless acts or omissions indirectly, in so far as
the carelessness is the result of some previous wilful neglect of duty.
CHAP. I.] INTUITIONISM. 99
stood to mean — unless the contrary is stated — acts presumed
to be intentional and judged as such : on this point I do not
think that any dispute need arise.
The case of motives is different and requires careful dis-
1 cussion. In the first place the distinction between " motive "
and " intention " in ordinary language is not very precise :
since we apply the term "motive" to foreseen consequences
of an act, so far as they are conceived to be objects of desire
to the agent, or to the desire of such consequences : and when
we speak of the intention of an act it is usually, no doubt,
desired consequences that we have in view. I think, however,
that for purposes of exact moral or jural discussion, it is best
to include under the term ' intention ' all the consequences of
an act that are foreseen as certain or probable; since it will
be admitted that we cannot evade responsibility for any fore
seen bad consequences of our acts by the plea that we felt
no desire for them, either for their own sake or as means to
(ulterior ends1. Thus the intention of an act may be judged
to be wrong, while the motive is recognized as good ; as when
a man commits perjury to save a parent's or a benefactor's life.
Such judgments are, in fact, continually passed in common
moral discourse. It may, however, be said that an act cannot
be right, even when the intention is such as duty would pre
scribe, if it be done from a bad motive : that, to take a case
suggested by Bentham, a man who prosecutes from malice a
person whom he believes to be guilty, does not really act
rightly ; for, though it may be his duty to prosecute, he ought
not to do it from malice. It is doubtless true that it is our
duty to get rid of bad motives if we can; and it is important to
observe that morality prescribes internal acts — i.e. volitions in
which the foreseen consequences are conceived as solely effects
on the agent's own feelings and character — no less than external
acts. But no one, I think, will contend that we can always at
1 I think that common usage, when carefully considered, will be found to
admit this definition. Suppose a nihilist blows up a railway train containing
an emperor and other persons : it will no doubt be held correct to say simply
that his intention was to kill the emperor ; but it would be thought absurd to
say that he ' did not intend ' to kill the other persons, though he may have had
no desire to kill them and may have regarded their death as a lamentable
incident in the execution of his revolutionary plans.
7—9
100 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK III;
will get rid of a strong emotion ; so that, in the case supposed,
what is prescribed strictly as duty can only be the internal act
of suppressing as far as possible the feeling of personal malevo
lence; and such suppression will be especially difficult if one
is to do the act to which the malevolent impulse prompts ;
while yet, if the prosecution be clearly a duty which no one else
can so properly perform, it would be absurd to say that we
ought to omit it because we cannot altogether exclude an
objectionable motive. Hence, while I quite admit that many
actions are commonly judged to be made better or worse by
the presence or absence of certain motives, it still seems to
me clear (1) that our judgments of right and wrong strictly
speaking relate to intentions; and (2) that intentions to pro
duce certain external effects form the primary content of the
main prescriptions of duty, as commonly affirmed and under
stood1.
It has, no doubt, been maintained by moralists of influence
in different ages that the moral value of our conduct depends
upon the degree to which we are actuated by the one motive
which, as they hold, is truly moral : viz. the desire or free
choice2 to do what is right as such, to realize duty or virtue for
duty or virtue's sake3. In the next and subsequent chapters
I shall try to show that this doctrine — which we may con
veniently distinguish as Stoical — is not on the whole sustained
by a comprehensive survey and comparison of common moral
judgments : that there are important classes of duties, in de
termining which we do not usually take account of motives as
distinct from intentions : while in other cases acts appear to
have the quality of virtue even more strikingly when performed
from some motive other than the love of virtue as such. For
the present I am more concerned to point out that the Stoical
1 The view that moral judgments relate primarily or most properly to mo'tivea
will be more fully discussed in ch. xii. of this Book.
2 I use these alternative terms in order to avoid the Free Will Controversy.
3 Many religious persons would probably say that the motive of obedience or
love to God was the highest. But those who take this view would generally say
that obedience and love are due to God as a Moral Being, possessing the attri
butes of Infinite Wisdom and Goodness, and not otherwise : and if so these
religious motives would seem to be substantially identical with regard for duty
and love of virtue, though modified and complicated by the addition of emotions
belonging to relations between persons.
CHAP. I.] IN TUITION ISM. 101
doctrine above stated is diametrically opposed to what I have
called Psychological Hedonism — the view that the universal or
normal motives of human action are either particular desires
of pleasure or aversions to pain for the agent himself, or the
more general regard to his happiness on the whole which I
term Self-love; that it also excludes the less extreme doc
trine that duties may be to some extent properly done from
such self-regarding motives ; and that one or other of these
positions has frequently been held by writers who have ex
pressly adopted an Intuitional method of Ethics. As an ex
ample of a thinker who held the hedonistic view in its
extremest form we may refer to Locke. . . .
As an example, again, of thinkers who, while recognizing in
human nature a disinterested regard for duty or virtue as such,
still consider that self-love is a proper and legitimate motive to
right conduct, we may refer to Butler and his disciples. Butler
regards " reasonable self-love " as not merely a normal motive to
human action, but as being — no less than conscience — a " chief
or superior principle in the nature of man ;" so that an action
" becomes unsuitable " to this nature, if the principle of self-love
I be violated. Accordingly the aim of his teaching is not to
induce men to choose duty rather than interest, but to convince
them that there is no inconsistency between the two ; that self-
love and conscience lead " to one and the same course of life."
This intermediate doctrine appears to me to be more in
harmony with the common sense of mankind on the whole than
either the Stoical or the Lockian. But, though I have thought
it important to bring the three positions into clear contrast,
I do not conceive that we are here called upon to exclude any
of them as inconsistent with fundamental assumptions of the
present method. The Intuitionism which tends to the exclu
sion, so far as possible, of non-moral motives, the Intuitionism
which aims merely at the regulation of such motives, and the
Intuitionism which rests ultimately on an egoistic basis, may all
agree as to the particular kinds of intended outward effects, to
the realisation of which the different motives ought to prompt.
Even those who hold that human beings cannot reasonably be
expected to conform to moral rules disinterestedly, or from any
other motive than that supplied by the sanctions divinely
102 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK III:
attached to them, still commonly conceive God as Supreme
Reason, whose laws must be essentially reasonable : and so far
as such laws are held to be cognizable by the ' light of nature '
— so that morality, as Locke says, may be placed among demon
strative sciences — the method of determining them will be none
the less intuitional because it is combined with the belief that
God will reward their observance and punish their violation.
' On the other hand those who hold that regard for duty as duty
is an indispensable condition of acting rightly, would generally
admit that it is not the only cognizable condition ; that acting
rightly is not adequately denned as acting from a pure desire
to act rightly. In a certain sense, no doubt, a man who sin
cerely desires and intends to act rightly does all he can, and
i completely fulfils duty : but it will hardly be denied that such
a* man may have a wrong judgment as to his outward duty, and
therefore, in another sense, may act wrongly. If this be ad
mitted, it is evident that even on the view that the desire or
determination to fulfil duty as such is essential to right action,
a distinction between two kinds of Tightness is required; which
we may express by saying that an act is " formally " right, if
the agent in willing is moved by pure desire to fulfil duty or
chooses duty for duty's sake ; " materially " right, if he intends
the right particular effects. This distinction being taken, it
becomes plain that there is no reason why the same principles
and method for determining material Tightness, or rightness of
particular effects, should not be adopted by thinkers who differ
most widely on the question of formal rightness ; and it is,
J obviously, with material rightness that the work of the
/ systematic • moralist is mainly concerned.
§ 3. Here, however, it should be observed, that the term
' formal rightness ' may be also used, as implying not a desire
or choice of the act as right, but merely a belief that it is so1.
Now it is obvious that I cannot perform an act from pure love
of duty without believing it to be right : but I can believe it to
be right and yet do it from some other motive. Accordingly
1 It is not, I conceive, commonly held to be indispensable, in order to con
stitute an act right, that a belief that it is right should be actually present in
the agent's mind : it may be right, although the agent never actually raised the
question of its rightnoss or wrongness.
CHAP. L] INTUITIONISM. 103
there is more agreement among moralists who adopt the Intu
itional Method as to the moral indispensability of such a belief,
than there is with respect to the question of motive: at least,
it would, I conceive, be universally held that no act can be ab
solutely right, whatever its external aspect and relations, which
is believed by the agent to be wrong. It may still be asked
whether it is better in any particular case that a man should do
what he mistakenly believes to be his duty, or what really is
the right thing for him to do — when considered apart from his
mistaken belief — and would be completely right if he could
only think so. The question is rather subtle and perplexing to
Common Sense: it is therefore worth while to point out that it
can have only a limited and subordinate practical application.
For no one, in considering what he ought himself to do in any
particular case, can distinguish what he believes to be right
from what really is so: the necessity for such a choice between
what we may call 'subjective' and 'objective' rightness can only
present itself when we are considering the conduct of another
person whom it is in our power to influence. If another is about
to do what he thinks right while we believe it to be wrong, and
we are able to bring other motives to bear on him that may
overbalance his sense of duty, we have to decide whether we
ought thus to tempt him to realize what we believe to be ob
jectively right against his own convictions1. The moral sense
of mankind would, under ordinary circumstances, pronounce
against such temptation; thus regarding the Subjective right-
ness of a a action as generally more important than the Objec
tive, either for itself or for its ulterior consequences2. But
however essential it may be that a moral agent should do
what he believes to be right, this condition of right conduct
is too simple to admit of systematic development : it is, there-
1 It is of course clear that it is right for us to alter his convictions if we can :
the difficulty only occurs when we find ourselves unable to do this.
2 The decision would, I think, usually be reached by weighing bad conse
quences to the agent's character against bad consequences of a different kind.
In extreme cases the latter consideration would certainly prevail. Thus we
should generally approve a statesman who crushed a dangerous rebellion by
working on the fear or cupidity of a leading rebel who was rebelling on con
scientious grounds. Cf. post, Book iv. ch. iii. § 2.
104 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BooK III.
fore, clear that the details of our investigation must relate
mainly to 'objective' rightness.
(p. 183). We may conclude then that the moral judgments
which the present method attempts to systematize are pri
marily and for the most part intuitions of the rightness or
goodness (or the reverse) of particular kinds of external effects
of human volition, presumed to be intended by the agent, but
considered independently of the agent's own view as to the
rightness or wrongness of his intention; though the quality of
motives, as distinct from intentions, has also to be taken into
account.
§ 4. But the question may be raised, whether it is legiti
mate to take for granted (as I have hitherto been doing) the
existence of such intuitions? For this, no doubt, is frequently
disputed: there are not a few persons who deliberately deny
that reflection enables them to discover any such phenomenon in
their conscious experience as the judgment or apparent percep
tion that an act is in itself right or good in any absolute sense
• — i.e. in any other sense than that of being the right or fit
means to the attainment of some ulterior end. I think, however,
that such denials are — at any rate to a great extent — due to
some confusion between three questions which ought to be
carefully distinguished: viz. the psychological question as to
existence of such moral judgments or apparent perceptions of
moral qualities, what we may call the 'psychogonical^uestion
as to their origin, and the ethical^ question as to their validity.
This confusion has been partly, perhaps, caused by the use of
the term "intuition," which has sometimes been understood to
imply that the judgment or apparent perception so designated
is true. I wish therefore to say expressly, that by calling any
proposition as to the rightness or wrongness of actions "in
tuitive," I mean no more than it is affirmed unhesitatingly, and
not as the result of reasoning, in ordinary thought and discourse:
I do not mean to prejudge the question as to its ultimate
validity, when philosophically considered. Any such "intuition"
may turn out to have an element of error, which subsequent
reflection and comparison enables us to correct — just as many
apparent perceptions through the organ of vision are found to be
CHAP. L] INTUITIONISM, 105
partially illusory and misleading — indeed the sequel will shew
that I hold this to be to an important extent the case with
moral intuitions commonly so-called.
The question as to the validity of such intuitions being thus
left open, it becomes obvious that the simple question 'whether
they actually exist' is one which can only be settled for each
person by direct introspection, supplemented by observation of
the present phenomena of other minds as made known to us
by means of language or other signs : and is altogether distinct
from any question as to the origin of such phenomena, which
has obviously to be investigated by quite different methods.
...in the growth of new mental phenomena, the psychical con
sequent is in no respect exactly similar to its antecedents, nor
can it be resolved into them: and I know no established laws
of psychical causation, which should lead us to regard the
antecedents as really constituting the consequent.
It remains to ask whether there is more to be said on behalf
of the connexion that has been held to exist between the Origin
of the psychical facts which we call moral intuitions, and what I
have called their Validity : that is, their truth when expressed
/ as judgments or propositions. It has been very commonly
assumed, both by Intuitionists and their opponents, that if our
moral faculty can be shewn to be 'derived' or 'developed' out
of other preexistent elements of mind or consciousness, sus
picion is thereby thrown upon its trustworthiness; while if, on
the other hand, it can be shown to have existed in the human
mind from its origin, its trustworthiness is thereby established.
The two assumptions appear to me equally devoid of founda
tion. On the one hand, I can see no ground for supposing
that a faculty thus derived, as such, is more liable to error
than if its existence in the individual possessing it had been
differently caused : to put it otherwise, I cannot see how
the mere ascertainment that a certain class of apparently self-
evident judgments has been caused in certain known and
determinate ways, can be in itself a valid ground for dis
trusting such cognitions. I cannot even admit that those who
affirm the truth of such judgments are bound to shew in
their causes a tendency to make them true: indeed the accept
ance of any such onus probandi would seem to me to render the
106 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK HI.
attainment of philosophical certitude impossible; since the
premises of the required demonstration must, I conceive, con-
. sist of caused beliefs, which as having been caused will equally
stand in need of being proved true; and so on ad infinitum.
Unless, indeed, it is held that we can find among the premises
of our reasonings certain apparently self-evident judgments
which have had no causes, and that these may on this ground
be accepted as valid without proof! — paradoxes which are
certainly not expressly maintained by the thinkers with whom
I am now arguing. Otherwise, if all beliefs are equally in the
position of having had invariable antecedents, it seems evident
that this characteristic alone cannot serve to invalidate any of
them.
I hold, therefore, that the onus probandi must be thrown
, the other way : those who dispute the validity of moral or other
intuitions on the ground of their derivation must be required
to shew, not merely that they are the effects of certain causes,
but that these causes are of a kind that tend to produce invalid
beliefs, Now it is not, I conceive, possible to prove by any
theory of the derivation of the moral faculty that the funda
mental ethical conceptions ' right ' or ' what ought to be done ',
' good ' or ' what it is reasonable to desire ', are invalid, and that
consequently all propositions of the form ' X is right ' or ' good '
are untrustworthy : for such ethical propositions, relating as
they do to matter fundamentally different from that with which
physical science or psychology deals, cannot be inconsistent
with any physical or psychological conclusions. They can
only be shewn to involve error by being shewn to contradict
each other: and such a demonstration cannot lead us co-
, gently to the sweeping conclusion that all are false. It may,
1 however, be possible to prove that particular ethical beliefs have
\ been caused in such a way as to make it probable that they are
wholly or partially erroneous : and it will hereafter be impor
tant to consider how far any Ethical intuitions, which we find
ourselves disposed to accept as valid, are open to attack on
such psychogonical grounds. At present I am only concerned
to maintain that no general demonstration of the derivedness
or developedness of our moral faculty is an adequate ground for
distrusting it. ...
CHAP. 1.] 1NTUITIONISX. 107
Note to p. 182.
1 Mr Abbott (Kant's Theory of Ethics, Memoir, p. 1) has denied the statement
in the text, affirming that Kant "never attempted to deduce a complete code of
duty from a purely formal principle." Mr Abbott refers to the Tugendlehre,
which appeared in 1796 when Kant was 72, and in which, no doubt, the deduc
tion of duties is worked out in a way which renders my criticism not obviously
applicable. But I am surprised that Mr Abbott should deny its applicability to
the Grundlegung zur MetaphysiTc der Sitten, published ten years earlier ; in the
face of Kant's unmistakeable statements in the second chapter of this treatise
(pp. 269—273, Hart : pp. 54 — 63 of Abbott's translation). Here Kant first says
"There is therefore but one categorical imperative, namely, this: Act only on
that maxim whereby thou canst at the same time will that it should become a
universal law. Now, if all imperatives of duty can be deduced from this one
imperative as from their principle we shall at least be able to shew what we
understand by [duty] and what this notion means." He then demonstrates the
application of the principle to four cases, selected as representative of "the many
actual duties "; and continues : "if now we attend to ourselves on occasion of
any transgression of duty, we shall find that we in fact do not will that our
maxim should be a universal law, for that is impossible for us" : then, sum
ming up the conclusion of this part of his argument, he says, "we have exhibited
clearly and definitely for every practical application the content of the cate
gorical imperative which must contain the principle of all duty, if there is such
a thing at all." I can hardly conceive how the view attributed by me to Kant
could be more clearly enunciated than it is in these passages.
CHAPTER II.
VIRTUE AND DUTY,
§ 1, (p. 191, 1. 3.) WE should therefore keep most close to
usage if we defined Duties as ' those Right actions or ab
stinences, for the adequate accomplishment of which a moral
impulse is conceived to be at least occasionally necessary ; ' but
as this line of distinction is vague, and continually varying,
I shall not think it necessary to draw attention to it in the
detailed discussion of duties.
It may be said, however, that there is another implication
in the term duty which I have so far overlooked, but which its
derivation — and that of the equivalent term 'obligation' —
plainly indicates : viz. that it is " due " or owed to some one.
But I think that here the derivation does not govern the esta
blished usage : rather, it is commonly recognized that duties to
persons, or " relative " duties, are only one species, and that
some duties — as (e.g.) Truth-speaking — have no such relativity.,
No doubt it is possible to view any duty as relative to the
person or persons immediately affected by its performance ; but
it is not usual to do this where the immediate effects are harm
ful — as where truth-speaking causes a physically injurious
shock to the person addressed — : and though it may still be
thought to be ultimately good for society, and so " due " to
the community or to humanity at large, that truth should even
in this case be spoken, it rather belongs to the utilitarian than
to the intuitional view to lay stress on this relation. But again,
it may be thought by religious persons that the performance of
duties is owed not to the human or other living beings affected
by them, but to God as the author of the moral law. And I cer-
CHAP; II.] VIRTUE AND DUTY. 109
tainly am not prepared to deny that the conception of duty, in
ordinary minds, carries with it this implied relation of an individ
ual will to a universal will conceived as perfectly rational : but
neither am I prepared to affirm that this implication is neces
sary, and an adequate discussion of the difficulties involved in it
would lead to metaphysical controversies wrhich I am desirous of
avoiding. I propose, therefore, in this exposition of the Intu-
/ itional method, to abstract from this relation of Duty generally
to a Divine Will: and, for reasons partly similar, to leave out of
consideration the particular " duties to God " which Intuition-
f ists have often distinguished and classified. Our view of the
general rules of " duty to man " (or to other animals) — so far
as such rules are held to be cognizable by moral intuition —
will, I conceive, remain the same, whether or not we regard
such, rules as imposed by a Supreme Reasonable Will : since
in any case they will be such as we hold it reasonable for all
men to obey, and therefore such as a Supreme Reason would
impose. I shall not therefore treat the term Duty as implying
necessarily a relation either to a universal Imponent or to the
individuals primarily affected by the performance of duties :
/ but shall use it as equivalent generally to Right conduct, while
; admitting that it is commonly restricted to acts for which a
I moral impulse is thought to be more or less required.
The notion of Virtue presents more complexity and diffi
culty, arid requires to be discussed from different points of view.
We may perhaps conveniently begin this discussion by inquiring
how far the sphere of Virtue coincides with that of Duty as
above defined. Here the first point to notice is that there
seem to be some virtues (such as Generosity) which may be
realized in acts objectively wrong, from want of insight into
their consequences : and even some (such as Courage) which
may be exhibited in wrong acts that are known by the agent
to be such. But it is doubtful whether in such cases we should
deliberately regard the quality thus manifested as a Virtue,
though it certainly excites in us a quasi-moral admiration : and
we should not at any rate call such conduct virtuous. It will
(therefore involve no material deviation from usage if, in treat
ing of the particular Virtues, we confine ourselves to qualities
exhibited in actions judged to be right : accordingly for coa-
110 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK IITX
venience of exposition I shall adopt this limitation in the present
( Book1. Shall we say then that the spheres of Duty and Virtue
(as thus defined) are completely coincident?
I think we shall best interpret common sense by distinguish
ing between the questions ' what a man ought to do or forbear'
and ' what other men ought to blame him for not doing or for
bearing:' and recognizing that the standard normally applied in
dealing with the latter question is laxer than would be right in
dealing with the former. We should agree that a truly moral
man cannot say to himself, "This is the best thing on the whole
for me to do but yet it is not my duty to do it though it is in my
power " : this would certainly seem to common sense an im-
/ moral paradox2. How comes it then that in judging of the acts
\ of others we commonly recognize that virtuous conduct may go
\ beyond the limit of what we regard as a person's duty : and
that even when there seems no doubt that the virtue beyond
duty was within the power of the individual in question ? One
explanation of this may be found in the different degrees of our
knowledge in our own case and in that of others : there are
certain acts ' and forbearances ' of which we can lay down defi
nitely that they ought to be done or forborne under all circum
stances, but with regard to other acts we can only decide when
we have the complete knowledge of circumstances which a man
commonly possesses only in his own case, and not in that of
other men. Thus I may easily assure myself that I ought to
subscribe to a given hospital : but I cannot judge whether my
neighbour ought to subscribe, as I do not know the details
1 It is more convenient, for the purpose of expounding the morality of com-
| mon sense, to understand by Virtue a quality exhibited in right conduct ; for
then we can use the common notions of the particular virtues as heads for the
classification of the most important kinds or aspects of right conduct as gene
rally recognized. And I think that this employment of the term is as much in
accordance with ordinary usage as any other equally precise use would be.
2 If the phrase in the text were used by a moral person, with a sincere and
predominant desire to do duty, it must, I conceive, be used in one of two senses :
either (1) half-ironically, in recognition of a customary standard of virtuous
conduct which the speaker is not prepared expressly to dispute, but which he
does not really adopt as valid — as when we say that it would be virtuous to read
a new book, hear a sermon, pay a visit, &c. ; or (2) it might be used loosely to
mean that such and such conduct would be best if the speaker were differently
<jonstituted. Cf. atlte, pp. 69, 70.
CHAP. II.] VIRTUE AND DUTY. Ill
of his income and the claims which he is bound to satisfy.
I do not, however, think that this explanation is always ap
plicable : I think that there are not a few cases in which
we refrain from blaming others for the omission of acts
which we do not doubt that we in their place should have
' thought it our duty to perform. In such cases the line seems
drawn by a more or less conscious consideration of what men
ordinarily do, and by a social instinct as to the practical effects
of expressed moral approbation and disapprobation : we think
that moral progress will on the whole be best promoted by our
praising acts that are above the level of ordinary practice, and
confining our censure — at least if precise and particular — to acts
that fall clearly below this standard. But a standard so deter
mined must be inevitably vague and tending to vary as the
average level of morality varies in any community, or section
of a community: indeed it ought to be the aim of moral
persons to raise it continually. Hence it is not convenient to
use it in drawing a theoretical line between Virtue and Duty :
and I have therefore thought it best to employ the terms so
that virtuous conduct may include the performance of duty
• as well as whatever good actions may be commonly thought to
: go beyond duty; though recognizing that Virtue in its ordi
nary use is most conspicuously manifested in the latter.
§ 2. So far I have been considering the term ' Virtuous ' as
applied to conduct. But both this general term, and the
names connoting particular virtues — "just," "liberal," "brave"
&c. — are applied to persons as well as to their acts: and the
question may be raised which application is most appropriate
or primary. Here reflection, I think, shews that these attri
butes are not thought by us to belong to acts considered apart
from their agents : so that Virtue seems to be primarily a
quality of the soul or mind, conceived as permanent in com
parison with the transient acts and feelings in which it is
manifested. As so conceived it is widely held to be a posses
sion worth aiming at for its own sake ; to be, in fact, a part of
that Perfection of man which is by some regarded as the sole
Ultimate Good. This view I shall consider in a subsequent
/chapter. Meanwhile it may be observed that Virtues, like
f other habits and dispositions, though conceived as compara-
112 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK III.
tively permanent attributes of the mind, are yet attributes
of which we can only form definite notions by conceiving the
particular transient phenomena in which they are manifested.
If then we ask in what phenomena Virtuous character is
manifested, the obvious answer is that it is manifested in
voluntary actions, so far as intentional ; or, more briefly, in
volitions. And many, perhaps most, moralists would give this
as a complete answer. If they are not prepared to affirm with
Kant that a good will is the only absolute and unconditional
Good, they will at any rate agree with Butler that "the object
of the moral faculty is actions, comprehending under that
name active or practical principles : those principles from which
men would act if occasions and circumstances gave them power."
And if it be urged that more than this is included (e.g.] in the
Christian conception of the Virtue of Charity, the "love of our
neighbour," they will explain with Kant that by this love we
must not understand the emotion of affection, but merely the
resolution to benefit, which alone has " true moral worth."
I do not, however, think that this doctrine is really in
harmony with the common sense of mankind. I think in our
common judgments certain kinds of virtuous actions are held
to be at any rate adorned and made better by the presence of
certain emotions in the virtuous agent. No doubt the element
of volition is the more important : beneficent dispositions
unattended by the emotion of love are undoubtedly better
than benevolent emotions that do not take effect in action :
\ but we commonly think that a due combination of volition and
' emotion is more excellent than either. We recognize that
benefits which spring from affection and are lovingly bestowed
are more acceptable to the recipients than those conferred
without affection, in the taste of which there is admittedly
something harsh and dry : hence, in a certain way, the affec
tion, if practical and steady, seems a higher excellence than the
mere beneficent disposition of the will, as resulting in more
excellent acts. In the case of Gratitude even the rigidity of
Kant1 seems to relax, and to admit an emotional element as
indispensable to the virtue : and there are various other af-
1 Cf. Tugendlehre, § 33: "diese Tugend welche mit Innigkeit der wolil-
wollenden Gesinnung zugleich Zartlichkeit des Wohlwollens verbindet."
CHAP, ii.] VIRTUE AND DUTY. 113
fections, such as Loyalty and Patriotism, which it is difficult —
without paradox — either to exclude from a list of virtues or
to introduce stripped bare of all emotional elements. Nor
is it only benevolent feeling that is thus thought to enhance
virtue: the same may in some cases be said of emotional
aversion : thus the Virtue of Chastity or Purity, in its highest
form, seems to include more than a mere settled resolution to
abstain from unlawful lust, it includes some sentiment of
repugnance to impurity. If it be objected that such emotions
cannot be commanded at will, I can only answer that it does
not seem to be characteristic of virtues as commonly conceived
— any more than of other human excellences — that it is in the
power of any one by a sufficient effort of will to exhibit them
at any time in the form or degree which we judge to be
the best possible. I admit, indeed, that no quality of con
duct is ever called a virtue unless it is thought to be to
some extent immediately attainable at will by all ordinary
persons, when circumstances give opportunity for its manifes
tation : in fact it appears to me that the line between virtues
and other excellences of behaviour is commonly drawn by this
characteristic of voluntariness ; — an excellence which we think
no effort of will could at once enable us to exhibit in any
appreciable degree is called a gift, grace, or talent, but not pro
perly a virtue. Writers like Hume1, who obliterate this line,
seem to me to diverge manifestly from common sense. Still
I regard it as at least an equal divergence on the other side
to maintain that virtue in all degrees is completely volun
tary: there are several other cases, besides those above dis
cussed, in which it would be manifestly paradoxical to affirm
this : thus (e.g.) no one would deny that courage is a Virtue,
and yet no one would affirm that any ordinary man can at will
exhibit the highest degree of courage, when occasion arises.
If the view above given of the relation of virtue to natural
affection be accepted, the question (raised in the preceding
chapter), whether an act is virtuous in proportion as it was done
from regard for duty or virtue, is implicitly answered, so far as
the morality of Common Sense is concerned : for it is admitted
that common sense does not hold this to be true of acts to
1 Cf. Inquiry concerning the Principle* of Moral*, Appendix iv.
s, 8
114 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK III.
which affection normally prompts. But I should even say that
in some cases we commonly attribute virtue to conduct where
regard for duty or virtue is not consciously present at all: as
in the case of a heroic act of courage — let us say, in saving a
fellow-creature from death — under an impulse of spontaneous
sympathy: so again, what we call a "genuinely humble" man
is a man who is not conscious that he is fulfilling a duty —
still less that he is exhibiting a virtue — by being humble.
It further appears to me that in the case of many important
virtues we do not commonly regard the ultimate spring of action
at all — whether it be some emotional impulse or the rational
choice of duty as duty — in attributing the virtue to particular
j persons : what we regard as indispensable is merely a settled
I resolve to intend or will a certain kind of external effects. Thus
we call a man veracious if he has a settled habit of endeavour
ing in his speech to produce in the minds of others impressions
exactly correspondent to the facts, whatever his motive may be
for so doing : whether he is moved, solely or mainly, by a regard
for duty or virtue generally, or by a love of truth in particular,
or a sense of the degradation of falsehood, or a conviction that
truth-speaking is in the long run the best policy in this world,
or a belief that it will be rewarded hereafter, or a sympathetic
aversion to the inconveniences which misleading statements
cause to other people. Similarly we attribute Justice, if a man
has a settled habit of weighing diverse claims and fulfilling
them in the ratio of their importance; Good Faith if he has a
settled habit of strictly keeping express or tacit engagements:
and so forth.
And even when we take motives into account, it is often
rather the force of seductive motives resisted than the particular
nature of the prevailing springs of action which we consider;
thus we certainly think virtue has been manifested in a higher
degree in just or veracious conduct, when the agent had strong
temptations to be unjust or un veracious ; and in the same way
there are certain tendencies to good conduct which are called
virtues when there are powerful seductive motives operating
and not otherwise ; e.g. when a man eats and drinks a proper
amount with no desire to exceed we do not attribute to him the
virtue of temperance. We must note, however, that Common
CHAP. II.] VIRTUE AND DUTY. 115
Sense seems to be involved in a kind of perplexity and even
contradiction as to the relation of virtue to the moral effort
required for resisting unvirtuous impulses. On the one hand
a general assent would be given to the proposition that virtue
is especially drawn out and exhibited in a successful conflict
with natural inclination. On the other hand we should
surely agree with Aristotle that Virtue is imperfect so long
as the agent cannot do the virtuous action without a con
flict of impulses; since it is from a wrong bent of natural
impulse that we find it hard to do what is best, and it seems
absurd to say that the more we cure ourselves of this wrong
bent, the less virtuous we grow. Perhaps we may solve the
difficulty by recognizing that there are two fundamentally
different kinds of Virtue, the one constituting the most perfect
ideal of moral excellence that we are able to conceive for human
beings, while the other is manifested in the effort of imperfect
men to attain this ideal : thus in proportion as a man comes to
like any particular kind of good conduct and to do it without
moral effort, we shall not say that his conduct becomes less
virtuous but rather more in conformity with a true moral ideal;
while at the same time we shall recognize that in this depart
ment of his life he has less room to exhibit that other kind of
virtue which is manifested in resistance to seductive impulses
and in the energetic striving of the will to get nearer to ideal
perfection.
So far I have been considering the manifestation of virtue
in emotions and volitions, and have not expressly adverted to the
intellectual conditions of virtuous acts : though in speaking of
such acts it is of course implied that the volition is accompanied
with an intellectual representation of the particular effects
willed. It is not, however, necessarily implied that such effects
must be thought in willing them to be right or good : and I
do not myself think that, in the view of common sense, this is
an indispensable condition of the virtuousness of an act ; for it
seems that some kinds of virtuous acts may be done so entirely
without deliberation that no moral judgment was passed on
them by the agent. This might be the case for instance, with
an act of heroic courage, prompted by an ilan of sympathy
with a fellow-creature in sudden peril. But it is, I conceive,
8—2
116 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK III.
necessary that such an act should not be even vaguely thought
to be bad. It is perhaps more difficult to say how far an
act which is conceived by the agent to be good but which is
really bad can ever be judged to be virtuous: I do not, how
ever, think that the term would ever be applied to an act
that is judged bad on the whole (though no doubt conduct in
some respects defective through ignorance is often regarded
as highly virtuous1). If this be so, it is again obvious that
the realization of virtue may not be in the power of any given
person at any given time, through lack of the requisite intel
lectual conditions. This, I think, is a conclusion which common
sense must accept : though I note a considerable reluctance to
accept it; which, however, is not shown in the attribution of
virtue to persons who do clearly wrong acts, but rather in an
effort to explain their ignorance as caused by some previous
wilful wrongdoing. We try to persuade ourselves that if (e.g.)
Torquemada did not know that it was wrong to torture heretics,
he might have known if he had not wilfully neglected means of
enlightenment : but there are many cases in which this kind of
explanation is unsupported by facts, and I see no ground for
accepting it as generally true.
To sum up the results of a rather complicated discussion : I
consider that Virtue is primarily attributed to the mind or
character of the agent, and conceived to be only manifested in
feelings and acts ; but that as we only know it through such
manifestations, in endeavouring to make precise our conceptions
of the particular virtues, we are necessarily concerned mainly
with the emotions and volitions in which they are manifested.
Examining these, we find that the element of volition is pri
marily important, and in some cases almost of sole importance,
but yet that the element of emotion cannot be altogether dis
carded without palpable divergence from common sense. Again,
concentrating our attention on the volitional element, we find
that it is primarily the volitions to produce certain particular
effects which we regard as grounds for attributing virtue ; the
1 I have before said that decidedly wrong acts are frequently considered to
exhibit in a high degree the tendencies which, when exhibited in right acts, we
call particular virtues— generosity, courage, patriotism, &c.: and this is especi
ally true of acts bad through ignorance.
CHAP. IT.] VIRTUE AND DUTY. 117
general determination to do right as right, duty for duty's sake,
is indeed thought to be of fundamental importance to a man's
moral life ; but rather as a generally necessary spring of virtu
ous action than as an indispensable condition of our attributing
virtue in any particular case. Similarly in considering the
emotional element, though an ardent love of virtue or aversion
to vice generally is a valuable stimulus to virtuous conduct, it
is not a universally necessary condition of it : and in the case of
some acts the presence of other emotions — such as kind affec
tion — makes the acts better than if they were done from a
purely moral motive. Such emotions, however, cannot be com
manded at will : and this is also true of the knowledge of what
ought to be done — or rather of the absence of more than a cer
tain amount of error through ignorance — which, in the view of
common sense, seems required to render conduct virtuous. For
these and other reasons I consider that though Virtue is dis
tinguished by us from other excellences by the characteristic
of voluntariness — it must be to some extent capable of being
realized at will when occasion arises — this voluntariness attaches
to it only in a certain degree ; and that Virtue in the highest
degree is not always capable of being so realized. And thus we
have a further explanation, besides those discussed in the pre
vious section, of the common conception of Virtue exceeding
strict Duty; since Duty is something that we can always do if we
will. Or perhaps we should rather say that Virtue in some cases
only comes indirectly within the range of duty, so far as we
recognize a duty of cultivating it. (to p. 195, 1. 4)...
(after p. 195, 1. 22.) The complicated relation of virtue to
duty, as above determined, must be borne in mind throughout
the discussion of the particular virtues, to which I shall proceed
in the following chapters. But, as we have seen, the main part
of the manifestation of virtue in conduct consists in voluntary
actions, which it is within the power of any individual to do — at
least if they are recognized as right, — and which therefore come
within our definition of Duty, as above laid down ; it will not
therefore be necessary, during the greater part of the ensuing
discussion, to distinguish between principles of virtuous conduct
and principles of duty ; since the definitions of the two will
coincide.... (to 1. 29.)
CHAPTER III.
WISDOM AND SELF-CONTROL.
§ 2. ...(p. 203, 1. 13). It is clearly our duty so to adhere,
in so far as it is within the power of the will : as a resolution
made after deliberation, in accordance with our view of what is
right, should not be abandoned or modified except deliberately
— at least if time for fresh deliberation be allowed — ; and the
tendency to resist impulses prompting to such abandonment or
modification is commonly recognized as an indispensable auxi
liary to Wisdom. But this species of Self-control, which we
may perhaps call Firmness, can hardly be said to be altogether
attainable at will, at least when it is most wanted (to 1. 20.-)
§ 3. In examining the functions of Wisdom, other sub
ordinate excellences come into view, which are partly included
in our ideal conception of Wisdom, and partly auxiliary or sup
plementary. Some of these however no one would exactly call
virtues.... (1. 36.) The same may be said of Caution, so far as
Caution implies taking into due account material circumstances
unfavourable to our wishes and aims : for by no effort of will
can we certainly see what circumstances are material; we can
only look steadily and comprehensively. The term ' Caution,'
however, may also be legitimately applied to a species of Self-
control which we shall properly regard as a Virtue : viz. the
tendency to deliberate whenever and so long as deliberation is
judged to be required, even though powerful impulses urge us
to immediate action.
And, in antithesis to Caution, we may notice as another
minor virtue the quality called Decision, so far as we mean by
Decision the habit of resisting an irrational impulse to which
CHAP. III.] WISDOM AND SELF-CONTROL. 119
men are liable, of continuing to some extent in the deliberative
attitude when they know that deliberation is no longer expedi
ent, and that they ought to be acting. ' Decision/ however, is
often applied (like 'Caution') to denote solely or chiefly a
merely intellectual excellence; viz. the tendency to judge rightly
as to the time for closing deliberation.
I conclude then that so far as such qualities as those which
I have distinguished as Firmness, Caution, and Decision, are
recognized as Virtues and not merely as intellectual excellences,
it is as being, in fact, species of Self-control; i.e. as involving
voluntary adoption of and adhesion to rational judgments as to
conduct, in spite of certain irrational motives prompting in an
opposite direction. Now it may seem at first sight that if we
suppose perfect correctness of judgment combined with perfect
self-control, the result will be a perfect performance of duty in
all departments; and the realization of perfect Virtue, except so
far as this involves the presence of certain special emotions not
to be commanded at will. And no doubt a perfectly wise and
self-controlled man cannot be conceived as breaking or neglecting
any moral rule. But it is important to observe that even sincere
and single-minded efforts to realize what we see to be right
may vary in intensity; and that therefore the tendency to mani
fest a high degree of intensity in such efforts is properly praised
as Energy, if the quality be purely volitional ; or under some
such name as Zeal or Moral Ardour, if the volitional energy be
referred to intensity of emotion, and yet not connected with any
emotion more special than the general love of what is Right or
Good.
CHAPTER IV.
BENEVOLENCE.
§ 1.... (p. 206, 1. 9.) When, however, we contemplate
these, we discern that there are other virtues, which, in dif
ferent ways, may be regarded as no less comprehensive than
Wisdom. Especially in modern times, since the revival of inde
pendent ethical speculation, there have always been thinkers
who have maintained, in some form, the view that Benevolence
is a supreme and architectonic virtue, comprehending and
summing up all the others, and fitted to regulate them and
determine their proper limits and mutual relations. The phase
of this view most current at present would seem to be Utilita
rianism, the principles and method of which will be more fully
discussed hereafter: but in some form or other it has been
held by many whose affinities are rather with the Intuitional
school. This widely supported claim to supremacy seems an
adequate reason for giving to Benevolence the first place after
Wisdom, in our examination of the commonly received maxims
of Duty and Virtue.
The general maxim of Benevolence would be commonly said
to be, "that we ought to love all our fellow-men," or "all
our fellow-creatures": but, as we have already seen, there
is some doubt among moralists as to the precise meaning of the
term " love " in this connexion : since, according to Kant and
others, what is morally prescribed as the Duty of Benevolence is
not strictly the affection of love or kindness, so far as this con
tains an emotional element, but only the determination of the
will to seek the good or happiness of others. And I agree that
it cannot be a strict duty to feel an emotion, so far as it
is not directly within the power of the Will to produce it
at any given time. Still (as I have said) it seems to me
CHAP. IV.] BENEVOLENCE. 121
paradoxical to deny that this emotional element is included
in our common notion of Charity or Philanthropy, regarded
as a Virtue : or that it adds a higher excellence to the mere
beneficent disposition of the will, as resulting in more excellent
actions (top. 207, 1. 33)... (p. 208, 1. 22.) It follows that there
is a corresponding ambiguity in the phrase 'doing good:' since,
though many would unhesitatingly take it to mean the promo
tion of Happiness, there are others who, holding that Perfection
and not happiness is the true ultimate Good, consistently main
tain that the real way to 'do good' to people is to increase their
virtue or aid their progress towards Perfection. There are, how
ever, even among anti-Epicurean moralists, some — such as Kant
— who take an opposite view.... (to 1. 32.)
§ 2. It remains to ask towards whom this disposition or
affection is to be maintained, and to what extent. And, firstly,
it is not quite clear whether we owe benevolence to men alone,
or to other animals also. That is, there is a general agreement
that we ought to treat all animals with kindness ; but it
is questioned whether this is directly due to sentient beings
as such, or merely prescribed as a means of cultivating kindly
dispositions towards men. Intuitional moralists of repute have
certainly maintained this latter view : I think, however, that
Common Sense is disposed to regard this as a hard-hearted
paradox and to hold with Bentham that the pain of animals is
per se to be avoided; but the point is one which I am not
prepared dogmatically to determine. It is of more importance
,} to consider how our benevolence ought to be distributed among
our fellow-men. Here we may conveniently make clear the In
tuitional view by contrasting it with that of Utilitarianism (to
p. 210,1. 12)... (1. 23) the inequality, on the Utilitarian theory, is
secondary and derivative. Common Sense, however, seems rather
to regard it as immediately certain without any such deduction
that we owe special dues of kindness to those who stand in special
relations to us. The question then is, on what principles, when
any case of doubt or apparent conflict of duties arises, we are
to determine the nature and extent of the special claims to
affection and kind services which arise out of these particular
relations of human beings. Are problems of this kind to be
solved by considering which course of conduct is on the whole
122 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK III.
most conducive to the general happiness ? or can we find inde
pendent and self-evident principles sufficiently clear and precise
to furnish practical guidance in such cases. The different answers
given to this fundamental question will obviously constitute the
main difference between the Intuitional and Utilitarian methods ;
so far as the 'good' which the benevolent man desires and seeks
to confer on others is understood to be Happiness.
(p. 213, 1. 7.) And the same may be said of the less com
prehensive affection that impels men to promote the well-being
of the community of which they are members; and again of
the affection that normally tends to accompany the recognition
of rightful rule or leadership in others. In some ages and
countries Patriotism and Loyalty have been regarded as almost
supreme among the virtues; and even now Common Sense gives
them a high place.
But when we pass to more restricted, and, ordinarily more
intense, affections, such as those which we feel for relations and
friends, it becomes more difficult to determine whether they are
to be considered as moral excellences and cultivated as such....
(to 1. 16.)
(1. 26).... If now we ask whether intense Love for an
individual, considered merely as a benevolent impulse, is in
itself a moral excellence, it is difficult to extract a very de
finite answer from Common Sense : but it perhaps inclines
on the whole to the negative. We are no doubt generally
inclined to admire any kind of conspicuously 'altruistic' conduct
and any form of intense love, however restricted in its scope ;
yet it hardly seems that the susceptibility to such individualized
benevolent emotions is exactly regarded as an essential element
of moral Perfection, which we ought to strive after and cultivate
like other moral excellences ; we seem, in fact to doubt whether
such effort is desirable in this case, at least beyond the point
up to which such affection is thought to be required for the
performance of recognized duties. And though we think it
natural and desirable that in general each person should feel
strong affection for a few individuals, and that his efforts to
promote directly the well-being of others should, to a great
extent, follow the promptings of such impulses; we are hardly
prepared to recommend that he should render services to special
CHAP. IV.] BENEVOLENCE. 123
individuals beyond what he is bound to render, and such as are
the natural expression of an eager and overflowing affection,
without having any such affection to express, (to p. 214, 1. 10.) ...
§ 4. (p. 217). In order then to ascertain how far we
possess such principles, let us examine in more detail what
Common Sense seems to affirm in respect of these duties.
They seem to range themselves under four heads. There
are (1) duties arising out of comparatively permanent relation
ships not voluntarily chosen, such as Kindred and in most
cases Citizenship and Neighbourhood : (2) those of similar
relationships voluntarily contracted, such as Friendship : (3)
those that spring from special services received, or Duties of
Gratitude : and (4) those that seem due to special need, or Duties
of Pity. This classification is, I think, convenient for discus
sion ; but I cannot profess that it clearly and completely avoids
cross divisions ; since, for example, the principle of Gratitude is
often appealed to as supplying the rationale for duties of the
first class ; such as those owed by children to parents. Here,
however, we come upon a material disagreement and difficulty
in determining the maxim of this species of duty, (to 1. 16.)...
(p. 219, 1. 9).... Others, however, hold that children as
such have no claims to their parents' wealth : but only if
there is a tacit understanding that they will succeed to it, or, at
any rate, if they have been reared in such habits of life and
social relations as will render it difficult and painful for them
to live without inherited wealth.
(insert p. 222, 1. 17). Further, a general obligation of
being ' useful to society ' by some kind of systematic work is
vaguely recognized ; rich persons who are manifest drones incur
some degree of censure from thoughtful persons.
(insert in § 5, p. 223.)... A more serious difficulty of a some
what similar kind arises when we consider how far it is a duty to
cultivate the affection of Loyalty : meaning by this term — which
is used in various senses — the affection that is normally felt by
a well-disposed servant or official subordinate towards a good
master or official superior. On the one hand it is widely thought
that the duties of obedience which belong to these relations will
be better performed if affection enters into the motive, no less
than the duties of the family relations : but in the former case
124 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK 111.
it would seem that the habits of orderliness and Good Faith —
ungrudging obedience to law and ungrudging fulfilment of con
tract — will ordinarily suffice, without personal affection : and it
is urged, on the other hand, that a disposition to obey superiors
beyond the limits of their legal or contracted rights to issue
commands may easily be mischievous in its effects, if the supe
riors are ill-disposed. In a well-ordered modern state every
individual's right to originate commands is strictly limited by
law or custom : and though in the case of a wise and good supe
rior it is obviously advantageous that inferiors should be dis
posed to obey beyond these limits, it is not clear that this
disposition is one which it should be made a duty to cultivate
beyond the degree in which it results spontaneously from a
sense of the superior's goodness and wisdom. Nor do I think
that any decided enunciation of duty on this point can be ex
tracted from Common Sense.
(p. 233; 1. 3.) In conclusion, then, we must admit that while
we find a number of broad and more or less indefinite rules un
hesitatingly laid down by Common Sense in this department
of duty, it is difficult or impossible to extract from them, so far
as they are commonly accepted, any clear and precise principles
for determining the extent of the duty in any case. And yet, as
we saw, such particular principles of distribution of the services
to which good will prompts seem to be required for the perfec
tion of practice no less than for theoretical completeness ; in so
far as the duties which we have been considering are liable to
come into apparent conflict with each other and with other
prescriptions of the moral code.
In reply it may perhaps be contended that if we are seeking
exactness in the determination of duty, we have begun by
examining the wrong notion : that, in short, we ought to have
examined Justice rather than Benevolence. It may be admitted
that we cannot find as much exactness as is sometimes practi
cally needed by considering the common conceptions of the
duties to which men are prompted with natural affections ; but
it may still be maintained that we shall at any rate find such
exactness adequately provided for under the head of Justice.
This contention I will proceed to examine in the next chapter.
CHAPTER V.
JUSTICE.
(p. 237, 1. 23).... We may conclude, in short, that, in laying
down the law no less than in carrying it out, all inequality
affecting the interest of individuals which appears arbitrary,
and for which no sufficient reason can be given, is held to be
unjust.
...(p. 238, 1. 15).... What then do we mean by a just
man in matters where law-observance does not enter? It is
natural to reply that we mean an impartial man, one who
satisfies all claims which he recognizes and does not let
himself be unduly influenced by personal preferences. And
this seems an adequate account of the disposition of justice
so far as we consider it merely subjectively, and as a strictly
moral quality, independently of the intellectual insight required
for the realization of objective justice in action : if we neglect
to give due consideration to any claim which we regard as
reasonable, our action cannot be just in intention. This defini
tion suffices to exclude wilful injustice : but it is obvious that
it does not give us a sufficient criterion of just acts, any more
than the absence of arbitrary inequality is a completely dis
tinctive characteristic of just laws1. We want to know what
are reasonable claims, (to 1. 26.)
(p. 240, after 1. 35.) The difficulty just pointed out extends
equally to the stringent and sacred duties of the domestic and
1 It should be observed that we cannot say, in treating of the private
conduct of individuals, that all arbitrary inequality is recognized as unjust : it
would not be commonly thought unjust in a rich bachelor with no near relatives
to leave the bulk of his property in providing pensions exclusively for indigent
red-haired men, however unreasonable and capricious the choice might appear.
126 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK III.
other affections, discussed in the previous chapter : and it now
seems clear that we cannot get any new principle for settling
any conflict that may present itself among such duties, by
asking ' what Justice requires of us : ' the application of the
notion of Justice only leads us to view the problem in a new
aspect — as a question of the right distribution of kind services
— it does not help us to solve it. Having no clear and pre
cise intuitive principles for determining the claims (e.g.) of
parents on children, children on parents, benefactors on the
recipients of their benefits, we cannot say generally at what
point or to what extent the satisfaction of one of these claims
ought in justice to be postponed to the satisfaction of another,
or to any worthy aim of a different kind.
§ 3. If now we turn again to the political question, from
which we diverged, we see that we have obtained from the pre
ceding discussion one of the criteria of the justice of laws of
which we were seeking — viz. that they must avoid running
counter to natural and normal expectations — : but we see at the
same time that the criterion cannot be made definite in its
application to private conduct, and it is easy to shew that there
is the same indefiniteness and consequent difficulty in applying
it to legislation, (to 1. 37.)... (p. 241, 1. 13.) Hence when such ex
pectations are disappointed by a change in the law, the disap
pointed persons complain of injustice, and it is to some extent
admitted that justice requires that they should be compensated
for the loss thus incurred. But since these expectations are of all
degrees of definiteness and importance, and generally extend more
widely as they decrease in value, like the ripples made by
throwing a stone into a pond, it is impossible to compensate
them all : at the same time, I know no intuitive principle by
which we could separate valid claims from invalid, and distin
guish injustice from simple hardship.
But even if this difficulty were overcome further reflection
must, I think, shew that the criterion above given is incomplete
or imperfectly stated : otherwise it would appear that no old
law could be unjust, since laws that have existed for a long time
must create corresponding expectations.... (to p. 242, 1. 2.)
(p. 246, 1. 36).... If, however, we include in the idea absence
from pain and annoyance inflicted by others, it becomes at
CHAP. V.] JUSTICE. 127
once evident that we cannot prohibit all such annoyances with
out restraining freedom of action to a degree that would be
intolerable ; since there is scarcely any gratification of a man's
natural impulses which may not cause some annoyance to others.
Hence in distinguishing the mutual annoyances that ought to
be allowed from those that must be prohibited we seem forced
to balance, in the Utilitarian manner, the evils of constraint
against pain and loss of a different kind : while if we admit the
Utilitarian criterion so far, it is difficult to maintain that annoy
ance to individuals is never to be permitted in order to attain
any positive good result.
Thirdly, in order to render a social construction possible
on this basis, we must assume that the right to Freedom in
cludes the right to limit one's freedom by contract; and that
such contracts, if they are really voluntary and not obtained by
fraud or force, and if they do not violate the freedom of others,
are to be enforced by legal penalties. But, in the first place, it
does not seem clear that enforcement of Contracts is strictly
included in the notion of realizing Freedom ; for a man seems
to be most completely free when no one of his volitions is
allowed to have any effect in causing the external coercion of
any other.... (to p. 247, 1. 18.)
(p. 248, 1. 15.) For it is commonly thought that the
individual's right to Freedom includes the right of appro-
priating material things. But, if Freedom be understood
strictly, I do not see that it implies more than the right to
non-interference while actually using such things as can only
be used by one person at once: the right to prevent others
from using at any future time anything that an individual
has once seized seems an interference with the free action of
others beyond what is needed to secure the freedom, strictly
speaking, of the appropriator. It may perhaps be said that
a man, in appropriating a particular thing, does not interfere
with the freedom of others, because the rest of the world is
still open to them. But others may want just this object :
and they may not be able to find anything so good at all, or
at least without much labour and search ; for many of the
instruments and materials of comfortable living are limited
in quantity. This argument applies especially to property in
128 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK III.
land : and it is to be observed that, in this case there is a further
difficulty in determining how much a man is to be allowed to
appropriate by ' first occupation.' If it be said that a man is to
be understood to occupy what he is able to use, the answer
is obvious that the use of land by any individual may vary
almost indefinitely in extent of surface required, while diminish
ing proportionally in intensity. For instance, it would surely
be a paradoxical deduction from the principle of Freedom to
maintain that an individual had a right to exclude others from
pasturing sheep on any part of the land over which his hunting
expeditions could extend1. But if so can it be clear that a
shepherd has such a right against one who wishes to till the
land, or that one who is using the surface has a right to exclude
a would-be miner ? I do not see how the deduction is to be
made out.... (to p. 249,1. 1.)
(p. 253, 1. 13).... We ought to endeavour to make compen
sation for all harm, voluntary or involuntary, of which we have
been the physical cause — at least unless it has been caused with
the free consent of the person harmed. Common Sense does not
seem clear on this point : and even if we could settle it without
hesitation, there would still remain some difficulty, as we shall
see presently, in drawing the line between ' voluntary ' and ' in
voluntary ' harm2.
Between the principle of Eeparative and that of Retributive
1 It has often been urged as a justification for expropriating savages from the
land of new colonies that tribes of hunters have really no moral right to property
in the soil over which they hunt.
2 Cf. post, p. 292. The reader will find an interesting illustration of the
perplexity of Common Sense on this point in Mr 0. W. Holmes junr's book on
The Common Law, chap, iii.; where the author gives a penetrating discussion of
the struggle, in the development of the doctrine of torts in English Law, between
two opposing views: (1) that "the risk of a man's conduct is thrown upon him
as the result of some moral short-coming", and (2) that "a man acts at his peril
always, and wholly irrespective of the state of his consciousness upon the
matter". The former is the view that has prevailed in English Law; and this
seems to me certainly in harmony with the Common Sense of mankind, so far as
legal liability is concerned ; but I do not think that the case is equally clear as
regards moral obligation.
It may be added that there is often a further difficulty in ascertaining the
amount of compensation due: for this frequently involves a comparison of
things essentially disparate, and there are some kinds of harm which it seems
impossible to compensate.
CHAP. V.] JUSTICE. 129
Justice there is now1 no danger of confusion or collision, as the
one is manifestly concerned with the injured party, and the other
with the wrongdoer. . . .
§ 6, (p. 255, 1. 19) On the necessarian view, then, it
would seem to be ideally just (if anything is so) that all men
should enjoy equal amounts of happiness: for there seems to be
no justice in making A happier than B, merely because circum
stances beyond his own control have first made him better.
But why should we not, instead of ' all men,' say ' all sentient
beings ' ? for why should man have more happiness than any
other animal ? But thus the pursuit of ideal justice seems to
conduct us to such a precipice of paradox that Common Sense is
likely to abandon it. At any rate the ordinary idea of Desert
has thus altogether vanished2. And thus we seem to be led to
the conclusion which I anticipated in Bk. I. ch. v. : that in this
one department of our moral consciousness the idea of Free Will
seems involved in a peculiar way in the moral ideas of Com
mon Sense since if it is eliminated the important notions of
Desert and Justice require essential modification. However,
perhaps it would be superfluous to discuss this further. For
in any case it does not seem possible to separate in practice
that part of a man's achievement which is due strictly to his
free choice from that part which is due to the original gift of
nature and to favouring circumstances3: so that we must neces-
1 In the earlier stage of moral development, referred to in the preceding
paragraph, retribution inflicted on the wrongdoer was regarded as the normal
mode of reparation to the person injured. But this view is contrary to the
moral Common Sense of Christian Societies.
2 The only possible necessarian interpretation of Desert is, I think, the
Utilitarian : according to which, when a man is said to deserve reward for any
services to society, the meaning is that it is expedient to reward him, in order
that he and others may be induced to render similar services by the expectation
of similar rewards. Cf. post, Book iv. ch. iii. § 4.
3 No doubt, it would be possible to remove, to some extent, the inequalities
that are attributable to circumstances, by bringing the best education within the
reach of all classes, so that all children might have an equal opportunity of
being selected and trained for any functions for which they seemed to be fit :
and this seems to be prescribed by ideal justice, in so far as it removes or miti
gates arbitrary inequality. Accordingly in those ideal reconstructions of society,
in which we may expect to find men's notions of abstract justice exhibited, such
an institution as this has generally found a place. Still, there will be much
natural inequality which we cannot remove or even estimate.
»s. 9
130 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK III.
sarily leave to Providence the realization of what we conceive
as the theoretical ideal of Justice, and content ourselves with
trying to reward voluntary actions in proportion to the services
actually rendered (that is, if intentionally rendered ; for other
wise no one would think it deserving of reward).
If, then, we take as the principle of ideal justice so far as
this can be practically aimed at in human society, the requital
of voluntary services in proportion to their worth, it remains to
consider on what principle or principles the comparative worth
of different services is to be rationally estimated. There is no
doubt that we commonly assume such an estimate to be pos
sible ; for we continually speak of the ' fair ' or ' proper' price
of any kind of services as something generally known, and
condemn the demand for more than this as extortionate. It
may be said that the notion of Fairness or Equity which we
ordinarily apply in such judgments is to be distinguished from
that of Justice ; Equity being in fact often contrasted with strict
Justice, which is held to be either realized in the fulfilment of
contracts when made, and of definite legal prescriptions ; and
which is even capable of coming into collision with Equity. And
this is partly true : but I think the wider and no less usual
sense of the term Justice, in which it includes Equity or Fair
ness, is the only one that can be conveniently adopted in an
ethical treatise : for in any case where Equity comes into conflict
with strict justice, its dictates are held to be in a higher sense
just, and what ought to be ultimately carried into effect in the
case considered — though, not, perhaps, by the administrators of
law. I treat Equity, therefore, as a species of Justice; though
noting that the former term is more ordinarily used in cases
where the definiteness attainable is recognized as somewhat less
than in ordinary cases of rightful claims arising out of law or
contract. On what principle, then, can we determine the "fair"
or "equitable" price of services? When we examine the
common judgments of practical persons in which this notion
occurs, we find, I think that the ' fair ' in such cases is ascer
tained by a reference to analogy and custom, and that any
service is considered to be 'fairly worth ' what is usually given
for services of the kind.. ..(to p. 257, 1. 9.)
(p. 258,1. 8).... But on examination it seems likely that
CHAP. V.] JUSTICE. 131
the majority of men are not properly qualified to decide on the
value of many important kinds of services, from imperfect know
ledge of their nature and effects; so that, as far as these are con
cerned, the true judgment will not be represented in the market
place. Even in the case of things which a man is generally able
to estimate, it may be manifest in a particular case that he is
ignorant of the real utility of what he exchanges ; and in this
case the 'free' contract hardly seems to be fair: though if the
ignorance was not caused by the other party to the exchange,
Common Sense is hardly prepared to condemn the latter as
unjust for taking advantage of it. For instance, if a man has
discovered by a legitimate use of geological knowledge and skill
that there is probably a valuable mine on land owned by a
stranger, reasonable persons would not blame him for concealing
his discovery until he had bought the mine at its market
value : yet it could not be said that the seller got what it was
really worth. In fact Common Sense is rather perplexed on
this point: and the rationale of the conclusion at which it
arrives must, I conceive, be sought in economic considerations,
which take us quite beyond the analysis of the common notion
of Justice1.
Again, there are social services recognized as highly im
portant which generally speaking have no price in any market,
on account of the indirectness and uncertainty of their practical
utility: as, for instance, scientific discoveries. The extent to
which any given discovery will aid industrial invention is so
uncertain, that even if the secret of it could be conveniently
kept, it would not be profitable to buy it.
But even if we confine our attention to products and
services generally marketable, and to bargains thoroughly un
derstood on both sides, there are still serious difficulties in the
way of identifying the notions of 'free' and 'fair' exchange.
Thus, where an individual, or combination of individuals, has
the monopoly of a certain kind of services, the market-price of
the aggregate of such services can under certain conditions be
increased by diminishing their total amount; but it would seem
absurd to say that the social Desert of those rendering the
services is thereby increased, and a plain man has grave doubts
1 Cf. post, Book iv. ch. iii. § 4.
9—2
132 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BooK III.
whether the price thus attained is fair. Still less is it thought
fair to take advantage of the transient monopoly produced by
emergency : thus, if I saw Croesus drowning with no one near, it
would not be held fair in me to refuse to save him except at the
price of half his wealth. But if so, can it be fair for any class
of persons to gain competitively by the unfavourable economic
situation of another class with which they deal ? And if we
admit that it would be unfair, where are we to draw the line ?
For any increase of the numbers of a class renders its situation
for bargaining less favourable : since the market price of different
services depends partly upon the ease or difficulty of procuring
them — as Political Economists say, 'on the relation between the
supply of services and the demand for them ' — and it does not
seem that any individual's social Desert can properly be lessened
merely by the increased number or willingness of others render
ing the same services. Nor, indeed, does it seem that it can
be decreased by his own willingness, for it is strange to reward
a man less because he is zealous and eager in the performance
of his function : yet in bargaining the less willing always has
the advantage. And, finally, it hardly appears that the social
worth of a man's service is necessarily increased by the fact
that his service is rendered to those who can pay lavishly ; but
his reward is certainly likely to be greater from this cause.
Such considerations as these have led some political thinkers
to hold that Justice requires an entirely different mode of
distributing payment for services from that at present effected
by free competition : and that all labourers ought to be paid
according to the intrinsic value of their labour as estimated
by enlightened and competent judges. If this Socialistic Ideal
— as we may perhaps call it — could be realized without counter
balancing evils, it would certainly seem to give a nearer approxi
mation to what we conceive as Divine Justice than the present
state of society affords. But this supposes that we have found
the rational method of determining value : which, however, is
still to seek.... (to p. 259, 1. 23.)
(p. 260, 1. 8).... I do not see how these questions, or the
difficulties noticed in the preceding paragraph, can be met by
any analysis of our common notion of Justice. To deal with
such points at all satisfactorily we have, I conceive, to adopt
CHAP. V.] JUSTICE. 133
quite a different line of reasoning : we have to ask, not what
services of a certain kind are intrinsically worth, but what
reward can procure them and whether the rest of society gain
by the services more than the equivalent reward. We have,
in short, to give up as impracticable the construction of an
ideally just social order, in which all services are rewarded in
exact proportion to their intrinsic value. And, for similar
reasons, we seem forced to conclude, more generally, that it is
impossible to obtain clear premises for a reasoned method of
determining exactly different amounts of Good Desert.. . .(to 1.15.)
P. 261, 1. 10, for 'deterrent' read 'regarded as preventive'.
(p. 262, 1. 5).... In such cases there is a widespread feeling
that punishment ought to be mitigated : and so far as this
sentiment is held in check, it is rather by a consideration of
the mischievous consequences likely to result from leniency,
than from any insight into a supposed principle of Justice as
distinct from expediency.
CHAPTER VI.
LAWS AND PROMISES.
(p. 266, 1. 25.) But we hardly find this view in the
Common Sense of civilized Europe, upon which we are now
reflecting : at any rate in our societies there is not thought to
be any portion of the definite prescriptions of positive law
which, in virtue of its origin, is beyond the reach of alteration
by any living authority.
(p. 267, 1. 23).... This, as was noticed in the preceding
chapter, is involved in the adoption of Freedom as the ultimate
end of political order : if no one originally owes anything to
another except non-interference, he clearly can only be placed
in the relation of Subject to Sovereign by his own consent.
And thus, in order to reconcile the original right of Freedom
with the actual duty of Law-observance, some supposition of a
social contract appears necessary ; by means of which Obedience
to Law becomes merely a special application of the duty of
keeping contracts.
In what way, then, are the terms of this fundamental com
pact to be known ? No one now maintains the old view that
the transition from the ' natural ' to the ' political ' state actu
ally took place by means of an "original Contract," which
conferred indelible legitimacy on some particular form of social
organization. Shall we say, then, that a man by remaining
a member of a community enters into a 'tacit undertaking'
to obey the laws laid down by the authority generally recog
nized as lawful in that community. In this way however the
most unlimited despotism, if established and traditional, might
claim to rest on free consent as well as any other form of
CHAP. VI.] LAWS AND PROMISES. 135
government : so that the theoretical freedom of the individual
would become a useless fiction. To avoid this result, we must
suppose that certain ' Natural Bights ' are inalienable, and that
laws are not strictly legitimate which deprive a man of these....
(to p. 268, 1. 28.)
...(p. 270, 1. 34.) For some think that a nation has a
natural right to a government approximately conformed to the
ideal, and that it ought to be introduced by force.
(p. 271, 1. 23.)... And this last seems, on the whole, the
view of Common Sense; but it seems impossible to determine
the point at which the metamorphosis is thought to take place,
otherwise than by considerations of expediency.
(p. 273, last line). Others, however, think this principle too
lax ; and certainly if a wide-spread preference of penalty to
obedience were shewn in the case of any particular law, the
legislation in question would be thought to have failed. Nor,
on the other hand, does there seem to be any agreement as to
whether one is bound to submit to unjust penalties.
(p. 277, 1. 12) : otherwise one could evade any moral ob
ligation by promising not to fulfil it, which is clearly absurd.
And the same principle is of course applicable to immoral
omissions or forbearances to act : here, however, a certain
difficulty arises from the necessity of distinguishing between
different kinds or degrees of obligator iness in duties ; since it is
clear that a promise may sometimes make it obligatory to abstain
from doing what it would otherwise have been a duty to do.
Thus it becomes my duty not to give money to a meritorious
hospital if I have promised all I can spare to an undeserving
friend ; though apart from the promise it might have been my
duty to prefer the hospital to the friend. We have, however,
already seen the difficulty of defining the limits of strict duty in
many cases: thus (e.g.) it might be doubted how far the promise
of aid to a friend ought to override the duty of giving one's
children a good education. The extent, therefore, to which the
obligation of a promise overrides prior obligations is practically
somewhat obscure; however clear the abstract principle for
determining it may seem to be. (to 1. 24.)
(p. 278, 1. 23).... We may observe that certain kinds of
concealment are even justified by the law: in most contracts
136 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK III.
of sale, for example, the law adopts the principle of ' caveat
eraptor/ and does not refuse to enforce the contract because
the seller did not disclose defects in the article sold, unless by
some words or acts he produced the belief that it was free from
such defects. Still, this does not settle the moral question ;
on which we do not seem to find any clear intuition. The
same may be said of promises obtained by illegal violence and
intimidation, (to p. 279, 1. 8.)
(p. 280, 1. 16) Under this head we may consider the un
dertaking of society to execute the testaments of dead persons :
because, though there is here no express promise, there may be a
sufficiently clear understanding to impose on society a duty of
Good Faith. We have not now to discuss the political problem
how far the right of bequest ought to be legally unrestricted in
a well-ordered state : but rather whether, when a bequest of
funds to certain public uses, under certain regulations and
conditions, has once been legitimately made and carried into
effect, the state has still a right to change the destination of
the funds, at any subsequent period. There seem two distinct
principles upon which it is sought to limit the obligation of a
community in such cases. ... (to 1. 32.)
CHAPTER VII.
THE CLASSIFICATION OF DUTIES. — VERACITY.
NOTE (at the end of the chapter). — Mr Stephen (Science of
Ethics, ch. v. § 33) explains the exceptions to the rule of truth-
speaking as follows.
"The rule, 'Lie not,' is the external rule, and corresponds ap
proximately to the internal rule, ' Be trustworthy.' Cases occur
where the rules diverge, and in such cases it is the internal rule
which is morally approved. Truthfulness is the rule because in the
vast majority of cases we trust a man in so far as he speaks the
truth; in the exceptional cases, the mutual confidence would be vio
lated when the truth, not when the lie, is spoken."
This explanation seems to me for several reasons inadequate.
(1) If we may sometimes lie to defend the life or secrets of others, it
is paradoxical to say that we may not do so to defend our own; but
a falsehood in selfdefence obviously cannot be justified as an applica
tion of the maxim " be trustworthy." (2) Even when the falsehood
is in legitimate defence of others against attacks, we cannot say that
the speaker manifests "trustworthiness" without qualification; for
the deceived assailant trusted his veracity, otherwise he would not
have been deceived: the question therefore is under what circum
stances the confidence of A that I shall speak the truth may legiti
mately be disappointed in order not to disappoint the confidence of
B that I shall defend his life and honour. This question Mr Stephen's
explanation does not in any way aid us to answer.
CHAPTER VIII.
OTHER SOCIAL DUTIES AND VIRTUES.
(Note to p. 294,)
1 It is to be observed that men derive pleasure from the pains and losses of
others, in various ways, without the specific emotion which I distinguish as
malevolent affection : either (1) from the sense of power exercised — which ex
plains much of the wanton cruelty of schoolboys, despots, &c. — or (2) from a
sense of their own superiority or security in contrast with the failures and strug
gles of others, or (3) even merely from the excitement sympathetically caused by
the manifestation or representation of any strong feeling in others; a real
tragedy is interesting in the same way as a fictitious one. But these facts,
though psychologically interesting, present no important ethical problems; since
no one doubts that pain ought not to be inflicted from such motives as these.
On p. 296, 1. 13, I have omitted the words "with Butler";
adding instead the following note.
1 This last view does not differ much from Butler's (see Sermon vm. Upon
Resentment) : but he recognizes that deliberate resentment " has in fact a good
influence upon the affairs of the world;" though "it were much to be wished
that men would act from a better principle".
(p. 299, 1. 4).... The mean man then is apt to be des
pised as having the bad taste to shew this symbol needlessly,
preferring a little gain to the respect of his fellow-men.
CHAPTER IX.
SELF-REGARDING VIRTUES.
§ 1. ...(p. 300, 1. 9) within the limits fixed by other duties,
Common Sense considers, I think1, that it is a duty to seek our
own happiness, except in so far as we can promote the welfare
of others by sacrificing it. This " due concern about our own
interest or happiness" may be called the Duty of Prudence.
It should, however, be observed that — since it is less evident
that men do not adequately desire their own greatest good,
than that their efforts are not sufficiently well directed to its
attainment, — in conceiving Prudence as a Virtue or Excellence,
attention is often fixed almost exclusively on its intellectual
side.... (to p. 301,1. 3.)
1 Kant argues (Metaph. of Ethics § iv.) that as every one " inevitably wills"
means to promote his own happiness this cannot be regarded as a duty. But,
as I have before urged (Book i. ch. iv. § 1) a man does not "inevitably will " to
do what he believes will be most conducive to his own greatest happiness.
The view in the text is that of Butler (Diss. « Of the nature of Virtue ') ;
who admits that "nature has not given us so sensible a disapprobation of
imprudence and folly as of falsehood, injustice and cruelty"; but points out
that such sensible disapprobation is for various reasons less needed in the
former case.
CHAPTER X.
COURAGE, HUMILITY, &C.
§ 1. (p. 306, 1. 23).... Now it seems plain that if we
seek for a definition of strict duty, as commonly recognized,
under the head either of Courage or of Fortitude, we can find
none that does not involve a reference to other maxims and
ends. For no one would say that it is our duty to face danger
or to bear avoidable pain generally, but only if it meets us in
the course of duty. And even this needs further qualification :
for as regards such duties as those (e.g.) of general Benevolence,
it would be commonly allowed that the agent's pain and
danger are to be taken into account in practically determining
their extent : thus one is not bound to attempt to save even
the life of another if the risk of losing one's own is very great :
and similarly for smaller services. On utilitarian principles it
seems clear that we ought to endure any pain for the prevention
of manifestly greater pain to another, or the attainment of an
equivalent amount of positive good : and that we are bound to
run any risk, if the chance of additional benefit to be gained
for any one outweighs the chance of loss to ourselves if we
fail. But it is doubtful whether the common estimate of the
duty of Benevolence could be said to amount quite to this. . . .
(to p. 307, 1. 27.)
(Note to p. 308, 1. 12.)
The above remarks apply in a less degree to the "moral courage" by
which men face the pains and dangers of social disapproval in the performance
of what they believe to be duty : for the adequate accomplishment of such acts
depends less on qualities not within the control of the will at any given time.
(p. 309, 1. 20).... I think that if we reflect carefully on
the common judgments in which the notion of Humility is
CHAP. X.] COURAGE, HUMILITY, dec. 141
used, we shall find that the quality commonly praised under
this name (which is not always used eulogistically), is not
properly regulative of the opinions we form of ourselves ; for
here as in other opinions we ought to aim at nothing but Truth :
but tends to the repression of two different seductive emotions,
one entirely self-regarding and internal, the other relating
to others and partly taking effect in social behaviour, (to 1. 28)
...(p. 310, 1. 4). For all admit that self-respect is an important
auxiliary to right conduct : and moralists continually point to
the satisfactions of a good conscience as part of the natural
reward which Providence has attached to virtue : yet it is diffi
cult to separate the glow of self-approbation which attends the
performance of a virtuous action from the complacent self-
consciousness which Humility seems to exclude. Perhaps we
may say that the feeling of self-approbation itself is natural
and a legitimate pleasure, but that if prolonged and fostered
it is liable to impede moral progress : and that what Humility
prescribes is such repression of self-satisfaction as will tend on
the whole to promote this end. On this view the rnaxim of
Humility is clearly a dependent one : the end to which it is
subordinate is progress in Virtue generally.... (to 1. 19.)
(For last two sentences of p. 310.) It is thought to be our
duty not even to exact, in many cases, the expression of
reverence which others are strictly bound to pay.
CHAPTEE XL
REVIEW OF THE MORALITY OF COMMON SENSE.
...(p. 313, 1. 29.) I now wish to subject the results of this
survey to a final examination, in order to decide whether these
general formulae possess the characteristics by which self-
evident truths are distinguished from mere opinions.
§ 2. There seem to be four conditions, the complete fulfil
ment of which would establish an apparently self-evident propo
sition in the highest degree of certainty attainable : and which
must be approximately realized by the premises of our reason
ing in any department of enquiry, if that reasoning is to lead us
cogently to true conclusions.
I. The terms of the proposition must be clear and precise.. . .
II. The self-evidence of the proposition must be ascertained
by careful reflection. It is needful to insist on this, because
most persons are liable to confound intuitions, on the one hand
with mere impressions or impulses, which to careful observation
do not present themselves as claiming objective validity ; and
on the other hand, with mere opinions, to which the familiarity
that comes from frequent hearing and repetition often gives an
illusory air of self-evidence which attentive reflection disperses.
In such cases the Cartesian method of testing the ultimate pre
mises of our reasonings, by asking ourselves if we clearly and
distinctly apprehend them to be true, may be of real use; though
it does not as Descartes supposed, afford a complete protection
against error.... (to p. 314, 1. 30.)
...(p. 321, 1. 30). And if we confine ourselves to the special
relations where Common Sense admits no doubt as to the broad
moral obligation of at least rendering such services as affection
CHAP. XL] REVIEW OF COMMON SENSE. 143
naturally prompts, still the recognized rules of external duty in
these relations are, in the first place, wanting in definiteness and
precision : and secondly, they do not, when rigorously examined,
appear to be, or be referable to, any independent intuitions so
far as the particularity of the duties is concerned. Let us take,
for example, the duty of parents to children. ...(p. 322, 1. 9).
If, however, we consider the duty of parents by itself, out of con
nexion with this social order, it is certainly not self-evident that
we owe more to our own children than to others whose happiness
equally depends on our exertions. To get the question clear,
let us suppose that I am thrown with my family upon a desert
island, where I find an abandoned orphan. Is it evident that
I am less bound to provide this child, as far as lies in my power,
with the means of subsistence, than I am to provide for my own
children ? According to some, my special duty to the latter
would arise from the fact that I have brought them into being :
but, if so, it would seem that on this principle I have a right to
diminish their happiness, provided I do not turn it into a negative
quantity, (to 1. 24.)...
...(p. 325. 1. 12)... when we ask how far we are bound to
give up our own happiness in order to promote that of our
fellows, Common Sense seems not distinctly to accept the Utili
tarian principle, and yet not definitely to affirm any other.
And even the common principle of Gratitude, though its
stringency is immediately and universally felt, seems yet essen
tially indeterminate : . . .(1. 27). . . And if we scrutinize closely the
common moral notion of Retributive Justice, it appears, strictly
taken, to imply the metaphysical doctrine of Free Will ; since,
according to this conception, the reasonableness of rewarding
merit is considered solely in relation to the past, without regard
to the future bad consequences to be expected from leaving
merit without encouragement : and if every excellence in any
one's actions or productions seems referable ultimately to
causes other than himself, the individual's claim to requital,
from this point of view, appears to vanish.... (to 1. 36.)
(p. 327, 1. 19 for ' control' read 'cause an external control of".)
(p. 335, after 1. 36.) For example, the distinction between
perfectly stringent moral obligations, and such laxer duties as
may be modified by a man's own act, is often taken : and it is
144 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK III.
one which, as we saw, is certainly required in formulating the
Common Sense view of the effect of a promise in creating new
obligations : but it is one which we cannot apply with any
practical precision, because of the high degree of indeterminate-
ness which we find in the common notions of duties to which
the highest degree of stringency is yet commonly attributed.
CHAPTER XII.
MOTIVES OR SPRINGS OF ACTION CONSIDERED AS SUBJECTS OF
MORAL JUDGMENT.
§ 1. IN the first chapter of this third Book I was careful to
point out that motives, as well as intentions, form part of the/
subject-matter of our common moral judgments....
(1. 17.) To avoid confusion, it should be observed that the
term ' motive ' is commonly used in two ways. It is sometimes
applied to those among the foreseen consequences of any act
which the agent desired in willing: and sometimes to the desire*
or conscious impulse itself.... (p. 338, 1. 10.) In this chapter then
I shall use the term Motive to denote the desires of particular
results, believed to be attainable as consequences of our voluntary
acts, by which we are stimulated to will those acts1.
1 In Green's Prolegomena to Ethics, Book 11. chaps, i. and ii. a peculiar view
is taken of " motives, of that kind by which it is the characteristic of moral or
human action, to he determined." Such motives, it is maintained, must be
distinguished from desires in the sense of " mere solicitations of which a man is
conscious ; " they are " constituted by the reaction of the man's self upon these,
and its identification of itself with one of them." In fact the " direction of
the self-conscious self to the realization of an object " which I should call an
act of will, is the phenomenon to which Green would restrict the term ' ' desire
in that sense in which desire is the principle and notion of an improbable
human action."
The use of terms here suggested appears to me inconvenient, and the psycho
logical analysis implied in it to a great extent erroneous. I admit that in certain
simple cases of choice, where the alternatives suggested are each prompted by a
single definite desire, there is no psychological inaccuracy in saying that in
willing the act to which he is stimulated by any such desire the agent " identifies
himself with the desire." But in more complex cases the phrase appears to
me incorrect, as obliterating important distinctions between the two kinds of
psychical phenomena which are usually and conveniently distinguished as
s, 10
146 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK III.
(p. 341, 1. 34).... For moralists of a Stoical cast (such as
Kant) regard all actions as bad — or not good — which are not
done from pure love of virtue, or choice of Right as Right.
While Hutcheson, who represents the opposite pole of Intui
tional Ethics, equally distinguishes the love of Virtue as a
separate impulse.
" desires " and volitions. In the first place as I have before pointed out (ch. i.
§ 2 of this Book), it often happens that certain foreseen consequences of volition,
which as foreseen are undoubtedly icilled and — in a sense — chosen by the agents,
are not objects of desire to him at all, but even possibly of aversion — aversion,
of course, overcome by his desire of other consequences of the same act. In the
second place, it is specially important, from an ethical point of view, to notice
that, among the various desires or aversions aroused in us by the complex fore
seen consequences of a contemplated act, there are often impulses with which
we do not identify ourselves, but which we even try to suppress as far as
possible : though as it is not possible to suppress them completely— especially if
we do the act to which they prompt — we cannot say that they do not operate as
motives.
V CHAPTEE XIII.
PHILOSOPHICAL INTUITIONISM.
(p. 348,1. 16)... One important lesson which the history
of moral philosophy teaches is that, in this region, even power
ful intellects are liable to acquiesce in tautologies of this kind ;
sometimes expanded into circular reasonings, sometimes hidden
in the recesses of an obscure notion, often lying so near the
surface that, when once they have been exposed, it is hard to
understand how they could ever have presented themselves as
important.
(p. 353, 1. 20).... Nor is it even true to say that we ought
to do to others only what we think it right for them to do to
us ; for no one will deny that there may be differences in the
circumstances — and even in the natures — of two individuals, A
and B, which would make it wrong for A to treat B in the way
in which it is right for B to treat A. In short the self-evident
principle strictly stated must take some such negative form as
this ; ' it cannot be right for A to treat B in a manner in which
it would be wrong for B to treat A, merely on the ground that
they are two different individuals, and without there being any
difference between the natures or circumstances of the two
which can be stated as a reasonable ground for difference of
treatment.' Such a principle manifestly does not give complete
guidance — indeed its effect, strictly speaking, is merely to throw
a definite onus probandi on the man who applies to another a
treatment of which he would complain if applied to himself;
but Common Sense has amply recognized the practical im
portance of the maxim : and" its truth, so far as it goes, is certainly
self-evident, (to 1. 34.)
10—2
148 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK III.
...(p. 354, 1. 26). I have already referred to this prin
ciple * as that ' of impartial concern for all parts of our conscious
life': — we might express it concisely by saying 'that Hereafter
as such is to be regarded neither less nor more than Now.'
It is not, of course, meant that the good of the present may not
reasonably be preferred to that of the future on account of its
greater certainty : or again, that a week ten years hence may
not be more important to us than a week now, through an
increase in our means or capacities of happiness. All that
the principle affirms is that the mere difference of priority and
posteriority in time is not a reasonable ground for having more
regard to the consciousness of one moment than to that of
another, (to 1. 32.)
(p. 355, 1. 27).... And as rational beings we are bound to
aim at good generally, — so far as we recognize it as attainable
by our efforts — not merely at this or that part of it ; we can
only evade the conviction of this obligation by denying that
there is any such universal good.
This, then, I hold to be the abstract principle of the duty
iof Benevolence, so far as it is cognizable by direct intuition ;
that one is morally bound to regard the good of any other
individual as much as one's own, except in so far as we judge it
to be less, when impartially viewed, or less certainly knowable
or attainable.... I think that a 'plain man,' in this age and
country at least, if his conscience were fairly brought to con
sider the hypothetical question, whether it would be morally
right for him to seek his own happiness on any occasion if it
involved a certain sacrifice of the greater happiness of some
other human being, — without any counterbalancing gain to
any one else — would answer unhesitatingly in the negative.
I have tried to shew how in the principles of Prudence,
Justice and Rational Benevolence as commonly recognized there
is at least a self-evident element, immediately cognizable by
abstract intuition ; depending in each case on the relation which
individuals and their particular ends bear to the wholes of
which they are parts. I regard the apprehension, with more or
I less distinctness, of these abstract truths, as the permanent
basis of the common conviction that the fundamental precepts
1 Cf. ante, note to p. 120,
CHAP. XIII.] PHILOSOPHICAL INTUITIONISM. 149
| of morality are essentially reasonable. No doubt by loose
thinkers these principles are often placed side by side with
other precepts to which custom and general consent have
given a merely illusory air of self-evidence : but the distinction
between the two kinds of maxims appears to me to become
manifest by merely reflecting upon them. I know by direct
reflection that the propositions 'I ought to speak the truth,'
' I ought to keep my promises ' — however true they may be —
are not self-evident to me ; they present themselves as propo-
J sitions requiring rational justification of some kind. On the
other hand, the propositions, ' I ought not to prefer a present
lesser good to a future greater good,' and ' I ought not to prefer
my own lesser good to the greater good of another1' do present
themselves as self-evident ; as much (e.g.) as the mathematical
axiom that ' if equals be added to equals the wholes are equal.'
It is on account of the fundamental and manifest import
ance, in my view, of the distinction above drawn between (1)
the moral maxims which reflection shews not to possess ulti
mate validity, and (2) the moral maxims which are or involve
genuine ethical axioms, that I refrained at the outset of this
investigation from entering at length into the psychogonical
question as to the origin of apparent moral intuitions. For no
psychogonical theory has ever been put forward professing to
discredit the propositions that I regard as really axiomatic, by
shewing that the causes which produced them were such as had
a tendency to make them false : while as regards the former
class of maxims, a psychogonical proof that they are untrust-
f worthy when taken as absolutely and without qualification true
Iis, in my view, superfluous : since direct reflection shews me
that they have no claim to be so taken. On the other hand,
so far as psychogonical theory represents moral rules as, speak
ing broadly and generally, means to the ends of individual and
social Good or well-being, it obviously tends to give a general
support to the conclusions to which the preceding discussion
has brought us by a different method : since it leads us to
1 To avoid misapprehension I should state that in these propositions the
consideration of the different degrees of certainty of present and future, Self and
Other, respectively is supposed to have been fully taken into account before the
future or alien Good is judged to be greater.
150 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK III.
regard other moral rules as subordinate to the principles of
Prudence and Benevolence. It may, however, be thought that
in exhibiting this aspect of the morality of Common Sense,
psychogonical theory leads us to define in a particular way
the general notion of 'good' or 'well-being,' regarded as a
result which morality has a demonstrable natural tendency to
produce. This question will be most conveniently considered in
subsequent chapters1.
§ 4. I should, however, rely less confidently on the con
clusions set forth in the preceding section, if they did not
appear to me to be in substantial agreement — in spite of super
ficial differences — with the doctrines of those moralists who
have been most in earnest in seeking among commonly received
moral rules for genuine intuitions of the Practical Reason. I
have already pointed out 2 that in the history of English Ethics
the earlier intuitional school shew, in this respect, a turn of
thought on the whole more philosophical than that which the
reaction against Hume rendered prevalent. Among the writers
of this school there is no one who shews more earnestness in the
effort to penetrate to really self-evident principles than Clarke.
...(top. 356,1. 25.)
(p. 357, 1. 24).... And thus his principle is implicitly what
was stated above, that the good or welfare of any one individual
must as such be an object of rational aim to any other reason
able individual no less than his own similar good or welfare.
(p. 360, 1. 12).... But the subjective ends of other men,
which Benevolence directs us to take as our own ends, would
seem, according to Kant's own view, to depend upon and
correspond to their non-rational impulses — their empirical de
sires and aversions. It is hard to see why, if man as a rational
being is an absolute end to other rational beings, they must
therefore adopt his subjective aims as determined by his non-
rational impulses. And, as I have before argued3, the rational
end or good of the individual cannot be identified with the
o
object of his actual desires, even if we add the qualification ' so
far as these desires are mutually consistent.'
1 Cf. post ch. xiv. § 1 : and Book iv. ch. iv.
2 Cf. ante Book i. ch. viii. pp. 98, 99.
3 Book i. ch. ix. § 3.
CHAP. XIIL] PHILOSOPHICAL INTUITIONISM. 151
The nature of Ultimate Good will be further considered in
the next chapter. Meanwhile I observe that by whatever argu
ments it is reached, Kant's conclusion is in substantial agree
ment with the view of the duty of Kational Benevolence that I
gave in §3. (to 1. 26.).-.
(after 1. 30.) I must now point out — if it has not long been
apparent to the reader — that the self-evident principles laid
down in § 3 do not specially belong to Intuitionism in the
restricted sense which, for clear distinction of methods, I gave
* to this term at the outset of our investigation. The axiom of
Prudence, as I have given it, is the self-evident principle on which,
according to me, Rational Egoism is based ; it makes explicit
the ground on which Butler, Reid and their followers have
attributed "reasonableness" and "authority" to self-love1.
Again, the axiom of Justice or Equity as above stated — ' that
similar cases ought to be treated similarly' — belongs in all its
applications to Utilitarianism as much as to any system com
monly called Intuitional : while the axiom of Rational Benevo
lence is, in my view, required as a rational basis for the Utili
tarian system.
§ 6. We seem then to have arrived, in our search for really
clear and certain ethical intuitions, at the fundamental maxim
of Utilitarianism. It must be admitted indeed that the
thinkers who in recent times have taught this latter system,
have not, for the most part, expressly tried to exhibit the truth
of their first principle by means of any such procedure as that
above given. Still, whenever they do offer any " considerations
capable of determining the reason to give assent2 to the principle
of utility," their reasoning seems to involve some such pro
cedure, or at least to be logically incomplete without it.... (to
p. 361,1. 2.)
(p. 361, 1. 21).... in giving as a statement of this principle
that "the general happiness is desirable," he must be under
stood to mean (and his whole treatise shews that he does
mean) that it is what each individual ought to desire, or at
1 On the relation of Rational Self-love to Rational Benevolence— which I
regard as the profoundest problem of Ethics — my final view is given in the last
chapter of this treatise.
2 Cf. Mill, Utilitarianism, ch. i. p. 6.
152 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK III.
least — in the stricter sense of 'ought' — to aim at realizing in
action. But this proposition is not established by Mill's reason
ing, even if we grant that what is actually desired may be
\ legitimately inferred to be in this sense desirable. For an
aggregate of actual desires, each directed towards a different
part of the general happiness, does not constitute an actual
desire for the general happiness, existing in any individual;
and Mill would certainly not contend that a desire which does
not exist in any individual can possibly exist in an aggregate
of individuals. There being therefore no actual desire — so
far as this reasoning goes — for the general happiness, the pro
position that the general happiness is desirable cannot be in
this way established. In fact there is a gap in the expressed
argument, which must, I think, have been consciously or un
consciously filled in Mill's mind by what I have above tried to
exhibit as the intuition of Rational Benevolence.
Utilitarianism is thus presented as the final form into
which Intuitionism tends to pass, when the demand for really
self-evident first principles is rigorously pressed.... (to 1. 34.)
CHAPTER XIV.
ULTIMATE GOOD.
§ 1. AT the outset of this treatise1 I noticed that there are
two forms in which the object of ethical inquiry is considered ;
it is sometimes regarded as a Rule or Rules of Conduct, ' the
Right,' sometimes as an end or ends, ' the Good.' I shall pre
sently explain why, in my view, the distinction between these two
notions is to be treated as ultimate and irreducible : for the
present, it is enough to say that in the moral consciousness
of modern Europe the two notions are prima facie distinct,
(to 1. 9 )...(!. 18.) But now, if the conclusions of the preceding
chapters are to be trusted, it would seem (1) that most of the
commonly received maxims of Duty — even of those which at
first sight appear absolute and independent — are found when
closely examined to contain an implicit subordination to the
more general principles of Prudence and Benevolence : and (2)
that no principles except these — and the formal principle of
Justice or Equity, which is included in Universal Benevolence,
as commonly conceived2 — can be admitted as at once intuitively
clear and certain, (to p. 364, 1. 1.)
(p. 365, 1. 25.) And if this be true of Virtue, it seems to be
yet more evidently true of most of the other graces and gifts,
bodily or mental, which make up the common notion of human
Excellence or Perfection. Although the goodness of such gifts
and skills may be recognized and admired instinctively, reflection
shews us that they are conceived as essentially relative to some
Good which they contribute to produce and maintain. Thus,
though from a practical point of view I fully recognize the
importance of urging that men should aim at an ideal of cha-
1 Gf. Bk. i. ch. i. § 2.
2 My own exact view of the relation of Justice to Kational Benevolence will
be given later (Book iv. ch. i. § 2).
154 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK III.
\ racter, and consider action in its effects on character, I cannot
\therefore infer that virtues or talents, faculties, habits, or dis-
Ipositions of any kind, are the constituents of Ultimate Good.
Indeed it seems to me that the opposite is implied in the very
conception of a faculty or disposition ; it can only be defined as
a tendency to act or feel in a certain way under certain condi
tions ; and such a tendency is obviously not valuable in itself
but for the acts and feelings in which it takes effect, or for the
ulterior consequences of these — which consequences, again, can
not be regarded as Ultimate Good, so long as they are merely
conceived as modifications of faculties, dispositions, &c. When,
therefore, I say that effects on character are important, it is a
summary way of saying that by the laws of our mental con
stitution the present act or feeling is a cause tending to modify
importantly our acts and feelings in the indefinite future :
the comparatively permanent result supposed to be produced in
the mind or soul, being a tendency that will shew itself in an
indefinite number of particular acts and feelings, may easily be
more important than a single act or the transient feeling of a
| single moment : but its comparative permanence is no ground
for regarding it as a constituent of ultimate good ; as it is as
permanently conducive to something else that we value it. The
skill of a chess-player is permanent as compared with the games
in which it is exhibited : but it would be paradoxical to say that
the games are desirable for the sake of the skill and not the
skill for the sake of the amusement ; and the same thing is true,
mutatis mutandis, of all the elements of our common notion of
perfection of intellect or character.
Have we then simply to fall back on the other answer which
Greek speculation brought out in continually sharper anti
thesis to the view that Ultimate Good was Virtue ; and say that
it is Pleasure or Happiness ? Perhaps the majority of mankind
would affirm this without hesitation; and accordingly in my
examination of the common rules of morality I have sometimes
stated ' general happiness ' as the end or standard to which the
rule was found implicitly to refer1. But more often it has
1 I have done this (e.g.] in the case of Benevolence ; and elsewhere where
pain or pleasure of any kind seemed clearly to come within the purview of
Common Sense.
CHAP, XIV.] ULTIMATE GOOD. 155
seemed to me more correct to give the reference vaguely to
' good ' (or sometimes ' expediency ') or wellbeing ; recognizing
that there are many persons who are not prepared to interpret
these wider notions in terms of Pleasure. It remains, then, to
ask, what we can say of Good or Wellbeing, if we are not to
say that it is Happiness, nor yet Perfection of Character ?
§ 2. In ch. ix. of Book I. we were led to the conclusion that
none of the comparatively permanent things which we com
monly judge to be good could, on reflection, be maintained to
be ultimately good and desirable for man, except some quality
of human existence itself : and if, on the grounds above stated,
Goodness of character is excluded, the only alternative seems to
be to say that what is ultimately Good, must be Good or de
sirable Conscious Life.
And we may limit the notion yet further: for when we
reflect upon Conscious Life, it becomes evident that we can
attach no intrinsic value to the merely corporeal side of our
organic life, the movements in the particles of organized matter
which we suppose to be inseparable concomitants of our
ever-varying conscious states. That these movements, consi
dered in themselves, should be of one kind rather than another,
or that they should be continued for a longer rather than a
shorter period, is in itself quite indifferent to us. If therefore a
certain quality of human Life is that which is ultimately
desirable, it must be human Life regarded on its psychical side,
or, briefly, Consciousness.
I cannot therefore accept a view of the wellbeing or welfare
of human beings — as of other living things — which is suggested
by current zoological conceptions and apparently maintained
with more or less defmiteness by influential writers ; according to
which, when we attribute goodness or badness to the manner of
existence of any living organism, we should be understood to
attribute to it a tendency either (1) to self-preservation or (2)
to the preservation of the community or race to which it belongs
— so that what " Wellbeing " adds to mere " Being " is just
promise of future being. It appears to me that this doctrine
needs only to be distinctly contemplated in order to be rejected.
If all life were as little desirable as some portions of it have
been, in my own experience and in that (I believe) of all or
156- THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK III.
most men, I should judge all tendency to the preservation of it
to be unmitigatedly bad. Actually, no doubt, as I am not a
pessimist, I regard what is preservative of life as generally
good, and what is destructive of life as bad : and I quite admit
that a most fundamentally important part of the function of
morality consists in maintaining such habits and sentiments as
are necessary to the continued existence, in full numbers, of a
society of human beings under their actual conditions of life.
But this is not because the mere existence of human organisms,
even if prolonged to eternity, appears to me in any way desirable;
it is only assumed to be so because it is supposed to be accom
panied by Consciousness on the whole desirable ; it is therefore
this Desirable Consciousness which we must regard as ultimate
Good.
At this point it seems that many utilitarians would consider
that no further establishment of their fundamental principle is
required ; that when we have limited the application of the
notion Good to Consciousness, we have really identified it with
Happiness ; that to say that all other things called good are
only means to the end of making consciousness intrinsically
better or more desirable, is in fact saying that they are means
to the end of happiness. But very important distinctions remain
to be considered. In the first place, it is not a sufficient account
of the elements of happiness to say that they are " desirable
feelings ": it is essential, as I before explained, to state that the
desirability of each feeling is only directly cognizable by the
sentient individual at the time of feeling it, and that there
fore this particular judgment of the sentient individual must
be taken as final1 on the question how far each element of
feeling has the quality of Ultimate Good. Now no one, I con
ceive, would estimate in any other way the desirability of feeling
considered merely as feeling : but our conscious experience
includes other psychical phenomena besides feelings ; it includes
Cognitions and Volitions, and it is not obvious that the desira
bility of these is to be estimated by the standard above stated.
1 Final, that is, so far as the quality of the present feeling is concerned.
I have pointed out that so far as any estimate of the desirability or pleasantness
of a feeling involves comparison with feelings only represented in idea, it is liable
to be erroneous through imperfections in the representation.
CHAP. XIV.] ULTIMATE GOOD. 157
I think, however, that when we reflect on a cognition as a
transient fact of an individual's psychical experience, — distin
guishing it on the one hand from the feeling that normally
accompanies it, and on the other hand from that relation of the
knowing mind to the object known which is implied in the term
"true" or "valid cognition1"; — it is seen to be an element of
consciousness quite neutral in respect of desirability : and
similarly as regards Volition. It is no doubt true that in
\ ordinary thought consciousness, active and passive, is judged to
1 be preferable on other grounds than its pleasantness : but the
explanation of this seems to be (as was suggested in Book n.
ch. ii. § 2) that what in such cases we really prefer is no longer
/ the present consciousness itself, but either effects on future con-
r sciousness more or less distinctly foreseen, or else something in
the conditions or concomitants of the present consciousness,
(to p. 367, 1. 7.)
(p. 367, 1. 27).... Similarly, a man may prefer freedom and
penury to a life of luxurious servitude, not because the plea
sant consciousness of being free outweighs in prospect all the
comforts and securities that the other life would afford, but be
cause he has a predominant aversion to that relation between
his will and the will of another which we call slavery : or, again,
a philosopher may choose what he conceives as ' inner freedom '
— the consistent self-determination of the will — rather than the
gratifications of appetite; though recognizing that the latter are
more desirable, considered merely as transient feelings. Here,
too, he may perhaps be led to regard his preference as mistaken,
if he be afterwards persuaded that there is no such thing as
Freedom ; that we are all slaves of circumstances, destiny, &c.
(to 1. 36.)
(p. 371, 1. 15.) It may, however, be said that the individual
who prefers another's happiness to his own, on the ground that
it is reasonable to do so, must regard the realization of Reason,
and not happiness, as his own Good — since we have defined Qoo^l
to be what a man may reasonably desire — ; and that if it be a
Good for him to act on this preference he must recognize it as a
1 The term "cognition" without qualification more often implies what is
signified by "true" or "valid": but for the present purpose it is necessary to
eliminate this implication.
158 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK III.
I Good for others; so that there will be two incommensurable ulti
mate Goods for each and all, Conformity to Reason and Happiness.
Here we must carefully distinguish a mere question of words
from a question of ethical principle. The latter it will be perhaps
easier to raise clearly by asking (1) whether real self-sacrifice
— the sacrifice of one's own 'good on the whole' to that of
others — is conceivable; and (2) whether, if so, what appears
to be real self-sacrifice is under any circumstances dictated by
the moral Reason and Conscience of mankind. It seems to
\ me clear that Common Sense answers these questions in the
affirmative ; while tit the same time holding — as Butler in
terprets it — that "self love" no less than Conscience is "rea
sonable " and therefore a ruliug principle in the nature of man,
which must somehow be reconciled with conscience if action in
conformity with man's rational nature is to be really possible.
I follow Butler in recognizing this Dualism of the Practical
Reason, which I regard as an irreducible result of ethical reflec
tion : and I consider that the best mode of recognizing it is
to adopt as final the distinction in ordinary use between the
terms Right and Good, and say that, in the case supposed,
self-sacrifice is judged to be morally Right, though — ex vi
termini — it is not judged to be Good on the whole for the self-
sacrificing individual. My object in thus distinguishing the
terms is not in any way to obscure the apparent conflict of
Practical Reason with itself; but rather to assist in making
clear wherein it consists : i.e. in the inevitable twofold concep
tion of a human individual as a whole in himself, and a part of
, a larger whole. There is something that it is reasonable for
him to desire, when he considers himself as an independent
unit, and something again which he must recognize as reason
ably to be desired, when he takes the point of view of a larger
I whole ; the former of these objects I call his own Ultimate
" Good," and the latter Ultimate Good taken universally ; while
to the sacrifice of 'the part to the whole, which is from the
/ point of view of the whole reasonable, I apply the different
term "right," to avoid confusion1.
The fact that, in the earlier age of ethical thought which
1 This 'Dualism of the Practical Reason' will be further discussed in the
concluding chapter of the treatise.
CHAP. XIV.] ULTIMATE GOOD. 159
Greek philosophy represents, men sometimes judged an act to
be 'good' for the agent, and what he for his own sake would
reasonably desire to do, even while recognizing that its con
sequences would be on the whole painful to him, — as (e.g.]
a heroic exchange of a life full of happiness for a painful
death at the call of duty — should be explained, I think, in
two ways combined: partly, in my opinion, it is to be attributed
...(to p. 371, last line.)
Omit from p. 374, 1. 20 to the end.
BOOK IV.
UTILITARIANISM.
CHAPTEE I
THE MEANING OF UTILITAKIANISM.
..,(p. 380, 1. 25.) An Intuitionist might accept this theory,
so far as it is capable of scientific proof, and still hold that these
moral sentiments, being found in our present consciousness as
independent impulses, ought to possess the authority that they
seem to claim over the more primary desires and aversions from
which they have sprung: and an Egoist on the other hand might
fully admit the altruistic element of the derivation, and still
hold that these and all other impulses (including even Universal
Benevolence) are properly under the rule of Rational self-love :
and that it is really only reasonable to gratify them in so far as
we may expect to find our private happiness in such gratifica
tion. In short, what is often called the " utilitarian " theory of
the origin of the moral sentiments cannot by itself provide a
proof of the ethical doctrine to which I in this treatise restrict
the term Utilitarianism. I think, however, that this psycho
logical theory has an important though subordinate place in
the establishment of Ethical Utilitarianism, the precise nature
of which I shall hereafter examine1, (to p. 381, 1.29.)
1 Cf. post, cb. iv.
CHAP. I.] THE MEANING OF UTILITARIANISM. 161
...(p. 382, 1. 10.) And of course, here as before, the assump
tion is involved that all pleasures included in our calculation
are capable of being compared quantitatively with one another
and with all pains; that every such feeling has a certain in
tensive quantity positive or negative (or, perhaps, zero), in
respect of its desirableness, and that this quantity may be to
some extent known: so that each may be at least roughly
weighed in ideal scales against any other....
...(p. 385, 1. 2.) The principle which most Utilitarians have
either tacitly or expressly adopted is that of pure equality —
at any rate so far as the persons among whom happiness is
to be distributed do not include the agent1 — as given in
Bentham's formula, " everybody to count for one, and nobody
for more than one." And this principle is obviously the
simplest, and the only one which does not need a special
justification ; for, as we saw, it must be reasonable to treat
any one man in the same way as any other, if there be no
reason apparent for treating him differently2.
1 Utilitarians have not usually considered very closely the question how far
it is right for A to sacrifice his own happiness for that of B : and probably most
of them would consider it extravagant to demand that the agent should give
no preference to himself, in the case supposed in the text.
2 It should be observed that the question here is as to the distribution of
Happiness, not the means of happiness.
S,
11
CHAPTER II.
THE PROOF OF UTILITARIANISM.
IN Book II., where we discussed the method of Egoistic
Hedonism, we did not take occasion to examine any proof of
its first principle : and in the case of Universalistic Hedonism
also, what chiefly concerns us is not how its principle is to be
proved to those who do not accept it, but what consequences are
logically involved in its acceptance. At the same time it is
important to observe that the principle of aiming at universal
happiness is more generally felt to require some proof, or at
least (as Mill puts it) some "considerations determining the
mind to accept it," than the principle of aiming at one's own
happiness. From the point of view, indeed, of abstract philosophy,
I do not see why the Egoistic principle should pass unchallenged
any more than Universalistic. Apart from the aversion, already
noticed, which many minds have to Egoism as base and
despicable, which leads them to cling eagerly to that state
of choice in which they prefer something else to their own
feelings, and refuse to acquiesce in any other attitude1, I do not
see why the axiom of Prudence should not be questioned on
a ground similar to that on which Egoists refuse to admit the
axiom of Rational Benevolence. If the Utilitarian has to answer
the question, ' Why should I sacrifice my own happiness for the
greater happiness of another?' it must surely be admissible to
ask the Egoist, c Why should I sacrifice a present pleasure for a
greater one in the future ? Why should I concern myself about
my own future feelings any more than about the feelings of
other persons?'., (to p. 387, 1. 9.)
1 I have before suggested a Utilitarian explanation of this. Cf. B, in.
ch. xiv. § 3.
CHAP. II.] THE PROOF OF UTILITARIANISM. 163
(1. 19.) However, I do not press this question now; since it un
doubtedly seems to Common Sense paradoxical to ask for a
reason why one should seek one's own happiness on the whole ;
nor do I myself require such a reason. Arguments for conform
ing to the commonly received rules of morality are not, perhaps,
held to be equally superfluous : indeed we find that utilitarian
reasons are continually given for this and that particular moral
maxim. Still the fact that certain rules are commonly received
as binding renders it generally unnecessary to prove their
authority to the Common Sense that receives them : while for
the same reason a Utilitarian who claims to supersede them by
a higher principle is naturally challenged, by Intuitionists no
less than by Egoists, to demonstrate the legitimacy of his
claim.... (to 1. 31.)
(p; 388, 1. 27.) If the Egoist strictly confines himself to
stating his conviction that he ought to take his own happiness
or pleasure as his ultimate end, there seems no opening for any
line of reasoning to lead him to Universalistic Hedonism as a
first principle1 ; it cannot be proved that the difference between
his own happiness and another's happiness is not for him all-
important... (p. 389, 1. 6.) When, however, the Egoist puts
forward, implicitly or explicitly, the proposition that his happi
ness or pleasure is Good, not onlyybr him but from the point of
view of the Universe, — as (e.g.) by saying that ' nature designed
him to seek his own happiness ', — it then becomes relevant to
point out to him that his happiness cannot be a more important
part of Good, taken universally, than the equal happiness of any
other person....
1 It is to be observed that he may be led to it in other ways than that of
argument: i.e. by appeals to his sympathies, or to his moral or quasi -moral
sentiments.
11—2
CHAPTER III.
RELATION OF UTILITARIANISM TO THE MORALITY OF
COMMON SENSE.
§ 1. IT has been before observed (B. i. c. vi.) that the two
sides of the double relation in which Utilitarianism stands to
the Morality of Common Sense have been respectively pro
minent at two different periods in the history of English
ethical thought. Since Bentham we have been chiefly familiar
with the negative or aggressive aspect of the former method.
But when Cumberland, replying to Hobbes, put forward the
general tendency of the received moral rules to promote the
"common Good1 of all Rationals" his aim was simply Con
servative :... In Hume's treatise this coincidence is drawn out
more in detail, and with a more definite assertion that the
perception of utility2 (or the reverse) is in each case the source
of the moral likings (or aversions) which are excited in us by
different qualities of human character and conduct.... (to p. 391,
1. 22.)
1 It ought to be observed that Cumberland does not adopt a hedonistic inter
pretation of Good. Still, I have followed Hallam in regarding him as the founder
of English Utilitarianism : since it seems to have been by a gradual and half-
unconscious process that 'Good' came to have the definitely hedonistic meaning
which it has implicitly in Shaftesbury's system, and explicitly in that of Hume.
2 I should point out that Hume uses "utility" in a narrower sense than that
which Bentham gave it, and one more in accordance with the usage of ordinary
language. He distinguishes the "useful" from the "immediately agreeable":
so that wbile recognizing "utility" as the main ground of our moral approbation
of the more important virtues, he holds that there are other elements of per
sonal merit which we approve because they are "immediately agreeable ", either
to the person possessed of them or to others. It appears, however, more con
venient to use the word in the wider sense in which it has been current since
Bentham.
CHAP. III.] UTILITARIANISM AND COMMON SENSE. 165
(p. 395, 1. 35.) In the first place, we must carefully dis
tinguish between the recognition of goodness in dispositions,
and the recognition of Tightness in conduct.... (p. 396, 1. 16)...
Secondly, although, in the view of a Utilitarian, only the useful
is praiseworthy, he is not bound to maintain that it is neces
sarily worthy of praise in proportion as it is useful. From a
Utilitarian point of view, as has been before said, we must
mean by calling a quality ' deserving of praise ', that it is
expedient to praise it, with a view to its future production :
accordingly, in distributing our praise of human qualities, on
utilitarian principles, we have to consider primarily not the
usefulness of the quality, but the usefulness of the praise : and
it is obviously not expedient to encourage by praise qualities
which are likely to be found in excess rather than in defect.... (to
1. 23)... (p. 397, 1. 4) so that humility gives us an agreeable sur
prise, and hence Common Sense may naturally overlook the
more latent and remote bad consequences of undue self-distrust.
We may observe further that the perplexity which we
seemed to find in the Morality of Common Sense, as to the
relation of moral excellence to moral effort, is satisfactorily
explained and removed when we adopt a Utilitarian point of
.view: for on the one hand it is easy to see how certain acts —
such as kind services — are likely to be more felicific when per
formed without effort, and from other motives than regard for
duty : while on the other hand a person who in doing similar
acts achieves a triumph of duty over strong seductive inclinations,
, exhibits thereby a character which we recognize as felicific in a
f more general way, as tending to a general performance of duty
I in all departments. So again, there is a simple and obvious
utilitarian solution of another difficulty which I noticed, as to
the choice between Subjective and Objective Tightness in the
exceptional case in which alone the two can be presented as
alternatives ; i.e. when we are considering whether we shall
influence another to act contrary to his conviction as to what is
right. A utilitarian would decide the question by weighing the
external felicific consequences of the particular right act against
the infelicific results to be apprehended hereafter from the moral
deterioration of the person whose conscientious convictions were
overborne by other motives: unless the former effects were very
166 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK IV.
important he would certainly regard the danger to character as
the greater : but if the other's mistaken sense of duty threatened
to cause a grave disaster, he would not hesitate to overbear it
by any motives which it was in his power to apply. And in
practice I think that the Common Sense of mankind would
come to similar conclusions by more vague and unconscious
modes of reasoning, (to p. 397, 1. 7.)
(p. 399, 1. 6.)... And besides, it is under the stimulus of
self-interest — at least as expanded into domestic interest — that
the active energies of most men are most easily and thoroughly
drawn out ... (p. 399, 1. 27) a spectator is often unable to
judge whether happiness is lost on the whole, as (a) he cannot
tell how far he who makes the sacrifice is compensated by
sympathetic and moral pleasure, and (b) the remoter felicific
consequences flowing from the moral effects of such a sacrifice
on the agent and on others have to be taken into account.
(p. 410, after 1. 2.) Here in the first place we may explain,
on utilitarian principles, why apparently arbitrary inequality in
a certain part of the conduct of individuals1 is not regarded as
injustice or even — in some cases — as in any way censurable.
For freedom of action is an important source of happiness to the
agents, and a socially useful stimulus to their energies: hence it
is obviously expedient that a man's free choice in the dis
tribution of wealth or kind services should not be restrained by
the fear of legal penalties, or even of social disapprobation,
beyond what the interests of others clearly require ; and there
fore, when distinctly recognized claims are satisfied, it is pro
tanto expedient that the mere preferences of an individual
should be treated by others as legitimate grounds for inequality
in the distribution of his property or services. Nay, as we
have before seen, it is within certain limits expedient that each
individual should practically regard his own unreasoned im
pulses as reasonable grounds of action : as in the rendering of
services prompted by such affections as are normally and
properly spontaneous and unforced.
Passing to consider the general principles upon which 'just
claims ' as commonly recognized appear to be based, we notice
that the grounds of a number of such claims may be brought
1 Cf. ante, p. 266 note.
CHAP. III.] UTILITARIANISM AND COMMON SENSE. 167
under the general head of ' normal expectations : but that the
stringency of such obligations varies much in degree, (to 1. 5.)...
(p. 412, 1. 31.) It seems, however, that what we commonly
demand or long for, under the name of Ideal Justice, is not so
much the realization of Freedom, as the distribution of good and
evil according to Desert : indeed it is as a means to this latter
end that Freedom is often advocated ; for it is said that if we
protect men completely from mutual interference, each will reap
the good and bad consequences of his own conduct, and so be
happy or unhappy in proportion to his deserts. In particular, it
has been widely held that if a free exchange of wealth and ser
vices is allowed, each individual will obtain from society, in money
or other advantages, what his services are really worth. We
saw, however, that the price which an individual obtains under
a system of perfect free trade, for wealth or services exchanged
by him, may for several reasons be not proportioned to the
social utility of what he exchanges: and if we inquire how far
and why Common Sense admits this proportion as legitimate,
the answer seems to be that it does admit it to some extent,
under the influence of utilitarian considerations correcting the
spontaneous utterances of our common moral sentiments.
To take a particular case : if a moral man were asked how
far A is justified in taking advantage in bargaining of the
ignorance of B, probably his first impulse would be to condemn
such a procedure altogether. But reflection, I think, would
shew him that such a censure would be too sweeping : that it
would be contrary to Common Sense to " blame A for having,
in negociating with a stranger B, taken advantage of B's
ignorance of facts known to himself, provided that A's superior
knowledge had been obtained by a legitimate use of diligence
and foresight, which B might have used with equal success.
What prevents us from censuring in this and similar cases is, I
conceive, a more or less conscious apprehension of the indefinite
loss to the wealth of the community that is likely to result from
any effective social restrictions on the free pursuit and exercise"
of economic knowledge. And for somewhat similar reasons of
general expediency, if the question be raised whether it is fair
for a class of persons to gain by the unfavourable economic
situation of any class with which they deal, Common Sense at
168 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BooK IV.
least hesitates to censure such gains — at any rate when such un
favourable situation is due "to the gradual action of general
causes, for the existence of which the persons who gain are not
specially responsible1".
And, to speak more generally, the principle of 'requiting
desert', so far as Common Sense really accepts it as practically
applicable to the relations of men in society, is quite in harmony
with Utilitarianism, if only we give the notions of ' good ' and
' ill ' desert a Utilitarian interpretation : to which Common
Sense when dealing practically with particulars, seems at least
to offer no obstacle (to p. 413, 1. 5.)....
(p. 418, 1. 37.) This view has perhaps a superficial plausi
bility : but it ignores the essential fact that it is only by the
present severe enforcement against unchaste women of the
penalties of social contempt and exclusion, resting on moral
disapprobation, that the class of courtezans is kept sufficiently
separate from the rest of female society to prevent the contagion
of unchastity from spreading ; and that the illicit intercourse of
the sexes is restrained within such limits as not to interfere
materially with the due development of the race. This con
sideration is sufficient to decide a Utilitarian to support generally
the established rule against this kind of conduct, and therefore
to condemn violations of the rule as on the whole infelicific,
even though they may perhaps appear to have this quality
only in consequence of the moral censure attached to them2.
Further, the * man of the world' ignores the vast importance to
the human race of maintaining that higher type of sexual
relations which is not, generally speaking, possible, except where a
high value is set upon chastity in both sexes, (to p. 419,1. 18.)...
1 The quotations are from my Principles of Political Economy, Book in. ch.
ix. : where these questions are discussed at somewhat greater length.
2 It is obvious that so long as the social sanction is enforced, the lives of the
women against whom society thus issues its ban must tend to be unhappy from
disorder and shame, and the source of unhappiness to others ; and also that the
breach by men of a recognized and necessary moral rule must tend to have
injurious effects on their moral habits generally.
CHAPTER IV.
THE METHOD OF UTILITARIANISM.
(Omit from p. 425, 1. 12 to p. 426, 1. 35, and insert) Indeed
from the considerations that we have just surveyed it is but
a short and easy step to the conclusion that in the morality
of Common Sense we have ready to hand a body of Utilitarian
doctrine ; that the " rules of morality for the multitude " are
to be regarded as " positive beliefs of mankind as to the effects
of actions on their happiness1," so that the apparent first prin
ciples of Common Sense may be accepted as the " middle
axioms " of Utilitarian method ; direct reference being only
made to utilitarian considerations, in order to settle points
upon which the verdict of Common Sense is found to be
obscure and conflicting. On this view the traditional con
troversy between the advocates of Virtue and the advocates of
Happiness would seem to be at length harmoniously settled.
And the arguments for this view which have been already
put forward are certainly strengthened by the probability
of the hypothesis, now widely accepted by naturalists and
sociologists, that the moral sentiments are historically derived
from experiences of pleasure and pain....
(p. 427, 1. 11.) This theory does not, in my view, ac
count adequately for the actual results of the faculty of
moral judgment and reasoning, so far as I can examine
them by reflection on my own moral consciousness : for this,
as I have before said, does not yield any apparent intuitions
that stand the test of rigorous examination except such as,
from their abstract and general character, have no cognizable
relation to particular experiences of any kind. But that the
1 Of. J. S. Mill, Utilitarianism, ch. ii. Mill, however, only affirms that the
"rules of morality for the multitude" are to be accepted by the philosopher
provisionally, until he has got something better.
170 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK IV.
theory gives a partially true explanation of the historical
origin of particular moral sentiments and habits and commonly
accepted rules, I see no reason to doubt ; and I regard it as
furnishing a valuable supplement to the arguments of the
preceding chapter that tend to exhibit the morality of common
sense as unconsciously or ' instinctively ' utilitarian.
But it is one thing to hold that the current morality ex
presses, half consciously and half unconsciously, the results of
human experience as to the effects of actions : it is quite
another thing to accept this morality en bloc, so far as it is clear
and definite, as the best guidance we can get to the attain
ment of maximum general happiness. However attractive this
simple reconciliation of Intuitional and Utilitarian methods
may be, it is not, I think, really warranted by the evidence. In
the first place, I hold that in a complete view... (to 1. 16) (1. 29)
...and the compromise may easily be many degrees removed
from the rule which Utilitarianism would prescribe. For though
the passions and other active impulses are doubtless themselves
influenced, no less than the moral sentiments, by experiences of
pleasure and pain ; still this influence is not sufficient to make
them at all trustworthy guides to general, any more than to
individual, happiness — as some of our moral sentiments them
selves emphatically announce. But even if we consider our
common moral sentiments as entirely due to the accumulated
and transmitted experiences of primary and sympathetic pains
and pleasures;... (to p. 428, 1. 2.)
(between p. 428, and p. 429.) On the other hand, we
must suppose that these deflecting influences have been
more or less limited and counteracted by the struggle for
existence in past ages among different human races and
communities ; since so far as any moral habit or sentiment
was unfavourable to the preservation of the social organism,
it would be a disadvantage in the struggle for existence,
and would therefore tend to perish with the community that
adhered to it. But we have no reason to suppose that this
force would be adequate to prevent any material tendencies to
the divergence of positive morality from a Utilitarian ideal.
For (1) imperfect morality would be only one disadvantage
among many, and not, I conceive, the most important, un-
CHAP. IV.] THE METHOD OF UTILITARIANISM. 171
less the imperfection were extreme, — especially in the earlier
stages of social and moral development, in which the struggle
for existence was most operative : and (2) as before noticed, a
morality perfectly preservative might still be imperfectly
felicific, and so require considerable improvement from a
Utilitarian point of view1 —
(Insert before concluding paragraph on p. 434.) At this
point certain thinkers of the evolutionist school would suggest
that these difficulties of Utilitarian method should be avoided
by adopting, as the practically ultimate end and criterion of
morality, "health" or "efficiency" of the social organism, instead
of Happiness. This view is maintained, for instance, in Mr
Stephen's Science of Ethics* ; and deserves careful examina
tion. We have first to get the meaning of the terms clear.
As I understand Mr Stephen, he means by " health " that
state of the social organism which tends to its preservation
under the conditions of its existence, as they are known or
capable of being predicted ; and he means the same by
"efficiency"; since the work for which, in his view, the social
organism has to be "efficient" is simply the work of living, the
function of "going on and still to be." It is necessary to state
this distinctly; because "efficiency" might be understood to
imply some 'task of humanity' which the social organism has
to execute, beyond the task of merely living; and similarly
"health" might be taken to mean a state tending to the
preservation not of existence merely, but of desirable exist
ence — desirability being interpreted in some non-hedonistic3
manner : and in this case an examination of either term would
lead us again over the ground traversed in the discussion on
Ultimate Good in ch. xiv. of the preceding Book4. But I do
1 On this point I shall have occasion to speak further in the next section.
2 See especially chap, ix., Pars. 12—15.
3 It is obvious that if 'desirability,' in the above definition, were inter
preted hedonistically, the term "health" would merely give us a new name for
the general problem of utilitarian morality ; not a new suggestion for its solution.
4 The notions of "social welfare" or " wellbeing," which Mr Stephen else
where uses, are still more obviously ambiguous : I have therefore avoided them :
but I do not think that Mr Stephen means by them any more than what I
understand him to mean by "health" or "efficiency" — i.e. that state of the
social organism which tends to its preservation under the conditions of its
existence.
172 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK IV.
not understand that any such implications were in Mr Stephen's
mind ; and they certainly would not be in harmony with the
general drift of his argument. If then we take " health " and
" efficiency " to mean merely that state or internal condition of
an organism in which it tends to be preserved, we may make
the issue clearer by asking whether if Happiness be admitted
to be the really ultimate end in a system of morality, it is
nevertheless reasonable to take Preservation as the practically
ultimate " scientific criterion " of moral rules.
My reasons for answering this question in the negative are
two-fold. In the first place I know no adequate grounds for
supposing that if we aim exclusively at the preservation of the
social organism we shall secure the maximum attainable hap
piness of its individual members : indeed, so far as I know, of
two social states which equally tend to be preserved one may
be indefinitely happier than the other. As has been before
observed1, a large part of the pleasures which cultivated per
sons value most highly — aesthetic pleasures — are derived from
acts and processes that have no material tendency to preserve
the individual's life2: and the statement remains true if we
substitute the social organism for the individual. And I may
add that much refined morality is concerned with the preven
tion of pains which have no demonstrable tendency to the
destruction of the individual or of society. Hence, while I
quite admit that the maintenance of preservative habits and
sentiments is the most indispensable function of utilitarian
morality — and perhaps almost its sole function in the earlier
stages of moral development, when to live at all was a difficult
task for human communities — I do not therefore think it rea
sonable that we should be content with the mere securing of
existence for humanity generally, and should confine our efforts
to promoting the increase of this security, instead of seeking to
make the secured existence more desirable.
But, secondly, I do not see on what grounds Mr Stephen
holds that the criterion of " tendency to the preservation of the
1 Bk. ii. ch. vi. § 3.
2 I do not mean to assert that 'play' in some form is not necessary for
physical health : but there is a long step from the encouragement of play, so far
as salutary, to the promotion of social culture.
CHAP. IV.] THE METHOD OF UTILITARIANISM. 173
social organism" is necessarily capable of being applied with
greater precision than that of " tendency to general happiness,"
even so far as the two ends are coincident : and that the former
"satisfies the conditions of a scientific criterion." I should
admit that this would probably be the case, if the Sociology
that we know were a science actually constructed, and not
merely the sketch of a possible future science : but Mr Stephen
has himself told us that sociology at present " consists of
nothing more than a collection of unverified guesses and vague
generalisations, disguised under a more or less pretentious
apparatus of quasi-scientific terminology." This language is
stronger than I should have ventured to use; but I agree
generally with the view that it expresses ; and it appears to me
that if Mr Stephen holds this view, he ought to maintain the
practical superiority of the evolutional to the utilitarian criterion
by some special arguments more positive than a mere state
ment of the defects of the latter. Such special arguments,
however, I am unable to find.
Holding this view of the present condition of Sociology, I
consider that, from the utilitarian point of view, there are
equally decisive reasons against the adoption of any such notion
as " development " of the social organism — instead of mere pre
servation — as the practically ultimate end and criterion of
morality. On the one hand, if by " development " is meant an
increase in " efficiency " or preservative qualities, this notion is
only an optimistic specialisation of that just discussed (involving
the — I fear — unwarranted assumption that the social organism
tends to become continually more efficient); so that no fresh
arguments need be urged against it. If, however, something
different is meant by development — as (e.g.) a disciple of Mr
Spencer might mean an increase in " definite coherent hetero
geneity," whether or not such increase was preservative — then
I know no scientific grounds for concluding that we shall best
promote general happiness by concentrating our efforts on the
attainment of this increase. I do not say that it is impossible
that every increase in the definite coherent heterogeneity of a
society of human beings may be accompanied or followed by
an increase in the aggregate happiness of the members of the
society: but I do not perceive that Mr Spencer, or any one
174 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK IV.
else, has even attempted to furnish the kind of proof which
this proposition requires1.
Still less can I agree with Mr Spencer2 in thinking that it
is possible — in the present condition of our sociological know
ledge — to construct the final perfect form of society, towards
which the process of human history is tending ; and to deter
mine the rules of mutual behaviour which ought to be, and will
be, observed by the members of this perfect society. Granting
that we can conceive as possible a human community which
is from a utilitarian point of view perfect ; and granting also
Mr Spencer's definition of this perfection — viz. that the volun
tary actions of all the members cause "pleasure unalloyed by
pain anywhere" to all who are affected by them 3 ; — it still seems
to me quite impossible to forecast the nature and relations
of the persons composing such a community with sufficient
clearness and certainty to enable us to define even in outline
their moral code. Even if it were otherwise, even if we could
construct scientifically Mr Spencer's ideal morality, I do not
think such a construction would be of much avail in solving
the practical problems of actual humanity. For a society in
which — to take one point only — there is no such thing as
punishment, is necessarily a society with its essential structure
so unlike our own, that it would be idle to attempt any close
imitation of its rules of behaviour. It might possibly be
best for us to conform approximately to some of these rules ;
but this we could only know by examining each particular rule
in detail; we could have no general grounds for concluding
1 It may be observed that the increased heterogeneity which the development
of modern industry has brought with it, in the form of a specialisation of
industrial functions which tends to render the lives of individual workers
narrow and monotonous, has usually been regarded by philanthropists as
seriously infelicific ; and as needing to be counteracted by a general diffusion
of the intellectual culture now enjoyed by the few — which, if realized, would
tend pro tanto to make the lives of different classes in the community less
heterogeneous.
2 I refer especially to the views put forward by Mr Spencer in the concluding
chapters of his Data of Ethics.
3 This definition, however, does not seem to me admissible, from a utili
tarian point of view : since a society in this sense perfect might not realize the
maximum of possible happiness ; it might still be capable of a material increase
of happiness through pleasures involving a slight alloy of pain, such as Mr
Spencer's view of perfection would exclude.
CHAP. IV.] THE METHOD OF UTILITARIANISM. 175
that it would be best for us to conform to them as far as
possible. For even supposing that this ideal society is
ultimately to be realized, it must at any rate be separated
from us by a considerable interval of evolution ; hence it is
not unlikely that the best way of progressing towards it will
be some other than the apparently directest way, and that
we shall reach it more easily if we begin by moving away
from it. Whether this is so or not, and to what extent,
can only be known by carefully examining the effects of con
duct on actual human beings, and inferring its probable
effects on the human beings whom we may expect to exist in
the proximate future.
To sum up : I hold that the utilitarian, in the existing state
of our knowledge, cannot possibly construct a morality de novo
either for man as he is (abstracting his morality), or for man
as he ought to be and will be. He must start... (to p. 434, 1. 15.)
CHAPTER V.
trY^
THE METHOD OF UTILITARIANISM CONTINUED.
(p. 436, 1. 18.) We have therefore to consider by what
method he will ascertain the particular modifications of
positive morality which it would be practically expedient to
attempt to introduce, at any given time and place. Here
our investigation seems, after all, to leave Empirical Hedonism
as the only method ordinarily applicable for the ultimate
decision of such problems — at least until the science of
Sociology shall have been really constructed. It is no doubt
true that changes in morality might be suggested — and
have actually been proposed by persons seriously concerned
to benefit their fellow-creatures — which even the imperfect
sociological knowledge that we possess would lead us to regard
as not merely infelicific but dangerous to the very existence of
the social organism. But such changes for the most part
involve changes in positive law as well ; since most of the rules
of which the observance is fundamentally important for the
preservation of an organized community are either directly or
indirectly maintained by legal sanctions : and it would be going
too far beyond the line which, in my view, separates ethics
from politics, to discuss changes of this kind in the present
book. The rules with which we have primarily to deal, in
considering the utilitarian method of determining private duty,
are rules supported by merely moral sanctions ; and the question
of maintaining or modifying such rules concerns, for the most
part, the happiness rather than the existence of human society.
The consideration of this question, therefore, from a utilitarian
CHAP. V.] THE METHOD OF UTILITARIANISM. 177
point of view, resolves itself into a comparison between the total
amounts of pleasure and pain that may be expected to result
respectively from maintaining any given rule as at present
established, or endeavouring to introduce that which is proposed
in its stead. That this comparison must generally be of a
rough and uncertain kind, we have already seen... (to 1. 29.)
(insert p. 437, 1. 5.) It is perhaps not surprising that some
thinkers1 of the Utilitarian school should consider that the task
of hedonistic calculation which is thus set before the utilitarian
moralist is too extensive : and should propose to simplify it by
marking off a " large sphere of individual option and self-guid
ance," to which " ethical dictation " does not apply. I should
quite admit that it is clearly expedient to draw a dividing
line of this kind : but it appears to me that there is no simple
general method of drawing it ; that it can only be drawn by
careful utilitarian calculation applied with varying results to the
various relations and circumstances of human life. To attempt
the required division by means of any such general formula as
that ' the individual is not responsible to society for that part
of his conduct which concerns himself alone and others only
with their free consent ' seems to me practically futile : since,
owing to the complex enlacements of interest and sympathy
that connect the members of a civilized community, almost any
material loss of happiness by any one individual is likely to
affect some others without their consent to some not inconsider
able extent. And I do not see how it is from a utilitarian point
of view justifiable to say broadly with J. S. Mill that such
secondary injury to others, if merely "constructive or presump
tive," is to be disregarded in view of the advantages of allowing
free development to individuality ; for if the injury feared is
great, and the presumption that it will occur is shewn by ex
perience to be strong, the definite risk of evil from the with
drawal of the moral sanction must, I conceive, outweigh the
indefinite possibility of loss through the repression of indivi
duality in one particular direction2. But further: even sup-
1 For example, Mr Bain in ' Mind ' (Jan. 1883, pp. 48, 49).
2 It may be observed that Mill's doctrine is certainly opposed to common
sense: since (e.g.) it would exclude from censure almost all forms of sexual
immorality committed by unmarried and independent adults.
s. 12
178 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK IV.
posing that we could mark off the " sphere of individual option
and self-guidance " by some simple and sweeping formula, still
within this sphere the individual, if he wishes to guide himself
reasonably on utilitarian principles, must take some account of
all important effects of his actions on the happiness of others ;
and if he does this methodically, he must, I conceive, use the
empirical method which we have examined in Book n. And —
to prevent any undue alarm at this prospect — we may observe
that every sensible man is commonly supposed to determine at
least a large part of his conduct by what is substantially this
method; it is assumed that, within the limits which morality
lays down, he will try to get as much happiness as he can for
himself and for other human beings, according to the relations
in which they stand to him, by combining in some way his own
experience with that of other men as to the felicific and infelicific
effects of actions.... (to 1. 14.)
(insert p. 437, 1. 29)... And in saying that this must
be the method of the Utilitarian moralist, I only mean that
no other can normally be applied in reducing to a common
measure the diverse elements of the problems with which
he has to deal. Of course, in determining the nature and
importance of each of these diverse considerations, the
utilitarian art of morality will lay various sciences under
contribution. Thus, for example, it will learn from Political
Economy what effects a general censure of usurers, or of land
owners who take the full advantages of unrestricted com
petition in determining rents, or the ordinary commendation
of liberality in almsgiving, is likely to have on the wealth of
the community ; it will learn from the physiologist the probable
consequences to health of a general abstinence from alcoholic
liquors or any other restraint on appetite proposed in the name
of Temperance ; more generally, it will learn from the experts
in any science how far knowledge is likely to be promoted by
investigations offensive to any prevalent moral or religious sen
timent. But how far the increase of wealth or of knowledge, or
even the improvement of health, should under any circumstances
be subordinated to other considerations, I know no scientific
method of determining other than that of empirical Hedonism.
Nor, as I have said, does it seem to me that any other method
CHAP. V.] THE METHOD OF UTILITARIANISM. 179
has ever been applied or sought by the common sense of man
kind, for regulating the pursuit of what our older moralists
called ' Natural Good/ — i.e. of all that is intrinsically desirable
except Virtue or Morality, — within the limits fixed by the latter ;
the Utilitarian here only performs somewhat more consistently
and systematically the reasoning processes which are generally
admitted to be properly decisive of the questions that this
pursuit raises. His distinctive characteristic, as a Utilitarian,
is that he has to apply the same method to the criticism and
correction of the limiting morality itself. The particulars of
this criticism will obviously vary with the almost infinite
variations in human nature and circumstances : the construction
of a detailed system of Utilitarian casuistry, even if limited to
our own age and country, would carry us far beyond the limits
of the present treatise. I here only propose to discuss the
general points of view which a Utilitarian critic must take,
in order that no important class of relevant considerations may
be omitted.
§ 2. Let us first recall the distinction previously noticed1
between duty as commonly conceived, — that to which a man
is bound or obliged — , and praiseworthy or excellent conduct ;
since, in considering the relation (to p. 438, 1. 20.)
(p. 446, 1. 7.) In fact, the Kantian principle, as accepted
by me, means no more than that an act, if right for any indi
vidual, must be right on general grounds and therefore for some
class of persons ; it does not prevent us from defining this
class by the above-mentioned characteristic of believing that
the act will remain an exceptional one....(l. 26.) the principle
in question, applied without the qualification above given,
would make it a crime in any one to choose celibacy as the
state most conducive to his own happiness. But Common
Sense (in the present age at least) regards such preference as
within the limits of right conduct ; . . .
(p. 447, 1. 5.)... We are supposed to see that the happi
ness of the community will be enhanced (just as the excel
lence of a metrical composition is) by a slight admixture of
irregularity along with a general observance of received rules;
and to justify the irregular conduct of a few individuals, on the
1 Of. especially Bk, in. c. ii.
180 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK IV.
ground that the supply of regular conduct from other members
of the community may reasonably be expected to be adequate.
It does not seem to me that this reasoning can be shewn
to be necessarily unsound, as applied to human society as at
present constituted : but the cases in which it could really be
thought to be applicable, by any one sincerely desirous of pro
moting the general happiness, must certainly be rare. For it
should be observed that it makes a fundamental difference
whether the sentiment in mankind generally, on which we rely
to sustain sufficiently a general rule while admitting exceptions
thereto, is moral or non-moral; because a moral sentiment is
inseparable from the conviction that the conduct to which it
prompts is objectively right— i.e. right whether or not it is
thought or felt to be so — for oneself and all similar persons in
similar circumstances ; it cannot therefore coexist with approval
of the contrary conduct in any one case, unless this case is
distinguished by some material difference other than the mere
non-existence in the agent of the ordinary moral sentiment
against his conduct. Thus, assuming that general unveracity
and general celibacy would both be evils of the worst kind, we
may still all regard it as legitimate for men in general to remain
celibate if they like, on account of the strength of the natural
sentiments prompting to marriage, because the existence of
these sentiments in ordinary human beings is not affected by
the universal recognition of the legitimacy of celibacy : but
we cannot similarly all regard it as legitimate for men to tell
lies if they like, however strong the actually existing sentiment
against lying may be. If therefore we were all enlightened
Utilitarians, it would be impossible for any one to justify him
self in making false statements while admitting it to be in
expedient for persons similarly conditioned to make them ; as
he would have no ground for believing that persons similarly
conditioned would act differently from himself. The case, no
doubt, is different in a society as actually constituted ; it is
conceivable that the practically effective morality in such a
society, resting on a basis independent of utilitarian or any
other reasonings, may not be materially affected by the par
ticular act or expressed opinion of a particular individual : but
the circumstances are, I conceive, very rare, in which a really
CHAP. V.] THE METHOD OF UTILITARIANISM. 181
conscientious person could feel so sure of this as to conclude
that by approving a particular violation of a rule, of which the
general (though not universal) observance is plainly expedient,
he will not probably do harm on the whole. Especially as all
the objections to innovation, noticed in the previous section,
apply with increased force if the innovator does not even claim
to be introducing a new and better general rule.
It appears to me, therefore, that the cases in which practical
doubts are likely to arise, as to whether exceptions should be
permitted from ordinary rules on Utilitarian principles, will
mostly be those which I discussed in the first paragraph of this
section : where the exceptions are not claimed for a few indivi
duals, on the mere ground of their probable fewness, but either
for persons generally under exceptional circumstances, or for a
class of persons defined by exceptional qualities of intellect,
temperament or character. Here the Utilitarian may have no
doubt that in a community consisting generally of enlightened
Utilitarians, these grounds for exceptional ethical treatment
would be regarded as valid ; bat he may, as -I have said, doubt
whether the more refined and complicated rule which recognizes
such exceptions is adapted for the community in which he is
actually living ; and whether the attempt to introduce it is not
likely to do more harm by weakening current morality than
good by improving its quality. Supposing such a doubt to
arise, either in a case of this kind, or in one of the rare cases
referred to in the preceding paragraph, it becomes obviously
necessary that the Utilitarian should consider carefully the
extent to which his advice or example are likely to influence
persons to whom they would be dangerous : and it is evident
that the result of this consideration may depend largely on the
degree of publicity which he gives to either advice or example.
Thus, on Utilitarian principles, it may be right to do and
privately recommend, under certain circumstances, what it
would not be right to advocate openly; it may be right to
teach openly to one set of persons what it would be wrong to
teach to others ; it may be conceivably right to do, if it can be
done with comparative secrecy, what it would be wrong to do in
the face of the world ; and even, if perfect secrecy can be
reasonably expected, what it would be wrong to recommend by
182 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK IV.
private advice or example. These conclusions are all of a para
doxical character : there is no doubt that the moral conscious
ness of a plain man broadly repudiates the general notion of an
esoteric morality, differing from that popularly taught ;... (to
p. 448, 1. 15; omit from 1. 16 to 1. 36 of p. 449 "and if so...
consideration.")
CONCLUDING CHAPTER.
THE MUTUAL KELATIONS OF THE THREE METHODS.
...(p. 457, 1. 19.) as. the variations in the moral code of
different societies at different stages correspond, in a great
measure, to differences in the actual or believed tendencies
of certain kinds of conduct to promote the general happiness
— at least of certain portions of the human race : while,
again, the most probable conjectures as to the pre-historic
condition and original derivation of the moral faculty seem
to be entirely in harmony with this view (to 1. 26.)
...(p. 458, 1. 2.) We have seen, however, that the appli-
cation of this process requires that the Egoist should affirm,
implicitly or explicitly, that his own greatest happiness is
not merely the rational ultimate end for himself, but a part
of Universal Good : and he may avoid the proof of Utilitarianism
by declining to affirm this....(l. 11.) Indeed, if an Egoist
remains impervious to what we have called Proof, the only
way of rationally inducing him to aim at the happiness of
all, is to shew him that his own greatest happiness can be best
attained by so doing : and even if he admits the self-evidence of
the principle of Ra_tio^aLBenevolence, he may still hold that the
ultimate validity of the maxim of Prudence is no less self-
evident, and that a reconciliation of the two must be somehow
found. This latter indeed (as I have before said) appears, to me,
on the whole, the view of Common Sense : and it is that which
I myself hold. It thus becomes needful to examine how far
and in what way this reconciliation can be effected.
184 THE METHODS OF ETHICS. [BOOK IV.
(p. 459, 1. 23.) The first and third of these questions Mill
did not clearly separate, owing to his psychological doctrine
that our own pleasure is the sole object of our desires.
(p. 460, 1. 18)... For, in fact, though I can to some extent
distinguish sympathetic from strictly moral_ feelings in in
trospective analysis of my own consciousness, I cannot say
precisely in what proportion these two elements are combined.
For instance : I seem able to distinguish the " sense of the
ignobility of Egoism" of which I have before spoken — which,
in my view, is the normal emotional concomitant or ex
pression of the moral intuition that the Good of the whole is
reasonably to be preferred to the Good of a part — from the jar of
sympathetic discomfort which attends the conscious choice of
my own pleasure at the expense of pain or loss to others ; but I
find it impossible to determine what force the former sentiment
would have if actually separated from the latter ; and what
others communicate of their experience inclines me to think that
the two kinds of feeling are_ very variously combined in different
individuals, (to 1. 25.)...
(p. 465, 1. 29)... Or, again, we may argue thus. If — as all
Theologians agree — we are to conceive God as acting for some
end, we must conceive that end to be Universal Good, and, if
Utilitarians are right, Universal Happiness : and we cannot
suppose that in a world morally governed it can be reasonable
for us to act in conscious opposition to what we believe to be
the Divine Design (to 1. 35)....
(p. 467, 1. 1) or whether it is forced to borrow a funda
mental and indispensable premiss from Theology or some
similar source..,
CAMBRIDGE '. PRINTED BY C. J. CLAY, M.A. AND SON, AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS.
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