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MODERN KNOWLEDGE

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1

HERBERT FISHER, M.iL. F.B.A., LL.aPlOF. GILBERT MURRAY, D.LITT^

U~D.. F.B.A.

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POLITICALTHOUGHT INENGLAND

THE UTILITARIANSFROM BENTHAMTO J. S. MILL

BY

WILLIAM L. DAVIDSONM.A., LL.D.

h

LONDONWILLIAMS AND NORGATE

It

Cr7D2c I

First printed, Autumn 191S.

11

LAKEHEAO COLlCQI«>BT ARTHUR. ONT.

CONTENTSCIAP.

I

II

III

IV

VI

VII

VIII

IX

XI

THB UTILITARIAN POSITION

JEREMY BENTHAM: HIS LIFE AND WRITINGSBENTHAM AS MORAL PHILOSOPHER

.

BENTHAM AS SOCIAL AND POLITICALTHINKER(HISOENBBAL POSITIONJI. EORYOF government; LEGISLATION; POLITI-CAL ECONOMY; EDUCATION)

BKNTHAM AS JURIST AND LAW REFORMER

msV'^^ PUNISHMENT^ ANDJAMES mill: HIS LIFE; PSYCHOLOGY;THEORY OF EDUCATION .

.

'

'^^.T^ ^ POLITICIAN AND AS JURIST(THEORY OP government; POLITICALeconomy; JURISPRUDENCE AND INTER-NATIONAL LAW)

.

JOHN STUART MILL: HIS LIFE AND WRITINGS;

LOGIC OF POLITICS; ETHICS

.

J. S. MILL: POLITICAL ECONOMY' PSYCHOLOOY AND THEORY OF KNOWLEDGE'women's BIGHTS

.

'

J. s mill: liberty, or a plea for in-

vl»^"^'''^^^REPRESENTATIVE GOVERN-

_:_ • ' ' ...ALEXANDER

PAoa

7

30

45

72

92

5

GEORGE GROTB; JOHN AUSTINBAIN

• • .

BIBLIOGRAPHY

INDEX

lU

133

158

189

216

235

262

254

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101. Belgium. By R. C. K. Ensor.105. Poland. By W. Alison Phillips.

POLITICAL THOUGHT INENGLAND

CHAPTER I

THE UTILITAMAN POSITION

Not infrequently we find writers, men ofletters and philosophers alike, referring toUtilitarianism as they might to Epicureanismof old, as a rounded and completed thing de-livered once for all by a master, and handeddown full-formed from the beginning, withlittle or no modification by succeeding genera-tions. But Jltilitarianism, like most otherphilosophical systems, is a growth, beginningwith a clear but restricted view, and needingexperience and the critical sympathetic in-sight of others later on to widen its outlook,to tone down its dogmatism, to lop off ex-crescences, and to adjust it to fresh light andnew situations. There is a school or succes-sion of utilitarians, in the same sense as there

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« POLITICAL THOUGHT

' ^A.f ." "'^ "*"*« »"» peculiarities,

and each advancing beyond the otter en-'

^a carrying it forward to . 'uller issue: forlnV " T^'^ "'^^ ^^>^«

.;

THE UTILITARIAN POSITION »

N„T«n yT"^ "^^^^ ^*»*« legislation.Not all utUitamns have been men of emotion :inteUect has been more conspicuous thansentiment m many of the leaders. But allhave had at heart the general welfare, andhave aimed as best they could at promotingrt. The name found currency through J. SMill, and has been in constant use since histime He does not claim to have invented it.but to have adopted it from a passing expres-sion m Gait's Annals of me Parish (seeLteto Chap. II. of his Vmtarianism). But heneed not have gone to Gait for it : he mighthave found It in Bentham, who uses it t^cein his wntmgs. Anyhow, the name, whenexplicitly adopted by Mill and his fellow"thinkers, was bound to give offence to philo-Bophy m Its strict acceptation, because theCthing that the philosopher as pure thinkerwould occupy himself with is human welfarem general and practical reform. The nhilo-sopher. so Hato had taught, is a veritablemnocent abroad " when brought into re!lation with the busy world and the practical

affairs of life, and draws only ridicuk uZhimself when he has to play his part a^*^^rr.^'Tv- "^^ "°'" '» "hid, heXiZs that of abstract speculation and contZ

I

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10 POLITICAL THOUGHTplation, not the concrete world of action andevery-day concerns. He has neither know-ledge of, nor interest in, what is mundane.He is unacquainted with his next-door neigh-bour, and is wholly ignorant of the socialevents that are passing around him. Some-times, indeed, he is compelled to take partin common life, and then he makes himselfludicrous " On every occasion, private aswell as pubUc . . . when he appears in alawcourt, or in any place in which he has tospeak of things which are at hi'; feet, andbefore his eyes, he is the jest not only ofThracian handmaids [as Thales was] but ofthe general herd, tumbUng into wells and everysort of disaster through his inexperience."(Theetetus.)

Almost the exact opposite of all thischaracterizes the utilitarian. The truths ofintellect, indeed, are his concern; but theneeds and interests of life are regarded byhim ac first and supreme : his theme is thehappi*iess of men and how it may be effected.He does not stand aloof from the active toilingworld, but is at home in it.^The concrete,not the abstract, is what most attracts him;and man as a " social " being takes precedencein his estimation of man as a solitary thinker.

THE UTILITARIAN POSITION 11He is by temperament and by conviction apragmatist—practical and concrete; valuingIdeas mainly in .o far as they work, and in sofar as they serve such purposes as men desireand for whic^they striveA The meaning of

'

this IS thatVhis firet and great concern ishuman life, human activity, human well-being; and, politically, he is the strenuousopponent of tyranny and injustice, and thechampion of individual freedom. Henceutihtarianism is emphatically practical, andkeeps m close touch with experience; and it»s jeforaaatpry, having in view the constantelevation of human life and the furthering ofhuman progress.XBut not only were the terms "utility"

and " utilitarianism " obnoxious to the purephUosopher, they are also unfortunate inthemselves, as tending to bring along withthem all the associations that cluster roundthem in the every-day usage of the plainman, and, consequently, to produce con-fusion and misconception. When employedm connexion with human aspirations andefforts, they are apt to savour of the selfishand the commercial; and thus they sutferfrom the fact that a certain sordidnessattaches m popular estimation to the things

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12 POLITICAL THOUGHTthat th^ signify. Vutility means serving opuiposeAand what is useful oftenl^esa ve^r-l^ean or humble purpose, and itsmmistry even though necessary to ourcomfort. IS apt to be despised. It is noteasy for us to clothe with the august attri-bute of worth the simple door-mat as we find

tn^^^Tl^''""'^^ ^^^ coal-scuttle, or thedust-bm Our very dependence, day afterday, on these and similar things and their

commonplace or non-ideal character tend tomake us lightly esteem them. But utility

Teven T ^ *''"' ^contemptuously treatedir^ *^/^:ioor-mat and the coal-scuttle andnot t'l^"""

''^" ^^''' ^*^"^)' ^'^d i* neednot be thus narrowly restricted in its signifi-cation. To every part of man's nature thereare corresponding utilities; and^man is tobe conceived, not only as an individual, butas an mdividual who is by nature social-whose very existence and whose continuedwelfare depend on the existence and co-operation of others, to whom he is linked bybonds of altruism and human affectirm^ndwhose clauns and interests his own eg^ isbound to respect. Moreover,

THE UTILITARIAN POSITION 18is not the only thing that makes appeal : heIS stirred by ideals-intellectual, educational,political, ethical, social. And so, utility forhim means what is best for all the elementsof his nature, and what can most effectively

full and ultimate good of his fellowsk Utili-tarians have expressed this by saying thatutility means "happiness," or, more com-pletely (after Bentham), " the greatest happi-

"'.'nl'l* .r^*"'* number," or, again,enlightened benevolence."In hke manner, popular usage has degraded

the meaning of the term " utilitarianism."It has narrowed it to the lower sphere ofhuman desu-e and activity, and has weightedIt with disparaging associations. Hence, thepopular orator, worked into a frenzy, whenhe wishes to condemn the present age ascensoriously as he can, labels it " a viuLianage. Ihis he sometimes varies with thephrase, scornfully pronounced, - a nuO^nal-t..c age"; thereby identifying utilitarianismwith materialism in its worst ethical sense,as the inordinate and irrational pursuit of

Towf l^°''^'^P^°^P^'^*y- One wondershow far Thomas Carlyle, with his vehementrhetonc, is responsible for this I

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14 POLITICAL THOUGHT

.,1^ *^" *° ^""^ *' misconception.ZZJT "" f°P"'" '^' -""havepropped to supplant the terms "utiUty"and happiness » by such term, „ " wel-fare " and " well-hina •• ti,t» u

oemg. These are supposedto be more appropriate and less misleading.And so. mdeed, they are. The.* is a certainnatural attractiveness about a man's wellbemg and welfare that does not attach to hUeffort to further his own interest or gratify

^d w^f .r?r*- **°"°^"' ''eU-beingand welfare, besides having in ordinary usagia nobler connotation, are susceptible of autiUty unphes, and more : they touch the™^t,on in a way that utilit/ failst do!and they are not associated with, or do notreaddy pomt to, selfish regard to one's ownas distmguished from, and in part opnosed

Weill'^""^ «"

THE UTILITARIAN POSITION 15in the lives of my fellow-men. The individualmust stand first to himself, from the verynature of the ease; but he cannot be repre-hended for this if his development dependson the identification of himself with the aimsand ideals of those with whom he associates,2f^i mankind in general.'H Utility, then, is welfare; and welfarfecovers every conceivable element that goetto determine and constitute man's happinessji

n. In defining further the conception ofUtilitarianism, we must consider its relation foPsychology—more especially, the psycho,of our moral nature.

In so far as psychology in general is con-cerned, utilitarianism at the beginning ac-cepted the English tradition, going back toI^ockcWts method is inductive, its basisexperierttial, and its end practical. It refusesto regard man merely as pure intellect, butinsists on taking account of his complexityof nature and diversity of interests, recognizingthat his interests are determined by his likingsand his aspirations. A man's likings are, inthe first place, personal—what his own feelingsand desires prompt to, on the principle ofself-preservation; but, as the individual is

n H

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" POUTICAl THOUGHT

fflen'and other »ent^»1^reference to other

exist nor hls^fl!?"*"^ "•'»''« "either

absolutely isolated bein» :. '^' '•• ano' the mind : there fa nfZ ' ""' '''*'°°to him in reality Ev^JIT '"""'"Pondingneeessarily th - pLu^^ ^"""^ •"*'"« »turn are the child^ /

°' P"""**' "ho faothers, and so olTLl'^T*'' •""**'"*»« o'line; indere^L^ ^ 7"^ '" "" endlessis depende^S^. hfsTal"';^''?'-' '

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THE UraiTARIAN POSITION 17realized in conjunction with that of others;and he and they alike are eager for a lifeof satisfaction and contentment (so it ismaintained, especially by Bentham). But asatisfied, contented life is, in the ultimateanalysis, a life of - pleasure »; and so, to theutilitarian, Pleasure is the individual's ulti-mate end-the ai^n of his being and theobject of his desire.\What this fuUy means will be seen as we

proceed; meanwhile, we note the fact.But happincL. /en a man's own, if. in the

circumstances of iife, it cannot be obtainedindependently of regard to others, is neces-sarily dependent on the -wcistence and organ-^ization of the State. Jpiven the positionthat happiness is universally desired, theattainment of it in a community is con-ditioned by the encouragement and limita-tions unposed by custom, law, and legislation.Hence, the utilitarian cannot dissociate theultimate eiyl of desire from political andState actionXSuch action both furthersdefinite duty by giving a distinct stimulusto the discharge of it, and also sanctionsIt by supplying an authoritative rule andapprobation.

In this wayj[5ditics to the utilitarian im-

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»• POLITICAL THOUGHTpBoites ethic

: with Mm, ethical and political

^tte^r'',*!:'"^ ^"^ improvement orbetterment of the citizens, and also theprovision of conditions best suited or thepromotion of this betterment. There „eboth a negative and a positive ™"1proper legislation-viz.. the getting rid^f de'

puttmg of favourable inducements in their

^n order to accomplish this, there isobviously, needed an adequate kAowlX Sbrwhicrr^'"i;

*''*"'°"='»' «>e i:;^'by which human beings are swayed and oftte^ideals that they are tending';o reaHzJiftis, m turn, points to the necessity ^f

acter and conduct really scientifl8s Han-

We, superficial analyses, wild flights of the""agination, and mere^nverified ^sumptionsmust be discarded, and serious and sysScmvestigation instituted concerning the Cl

i^^V,

THE UTILITARIAN POSITION 19side of man's being, and a strenuous attemptessayed to subject ethical phenomena andprocesses to the conditions that science im-poses on its investigation^-viz., observationand experiment (the latter necessarily limitedin ethics and society) and a full and accurateapplication of the inductive method. Ethicaltheory is made to wait on ethical fact, andgeneralization proceeds only from dataafforded by experience. Utilitarian ethics isof necessity analytic, descriptive, and in-ductive, resting on ascertained facts; andits aim has reference to the right use

20

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POLITICAL THOUGHTMd pressing circumstances, it fail, »„ « .u•magmation, and thereby to ml ^ ^'"present discomforf i,.!?!-

'"*'^* "P '

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THE UTILITARIAN POSITION 21character, its wants, its possibilities, and itsobvious limitations ; and he refuses to becomeeither a fanatic or a dreamer. Perhaps, hecarries this too far; for sentiment after allhas its place, and it may be better for us tocherish a purpose, even though it be an un-realizable purpose, in the " heart " than notto have planned and purposed at all. But he's clearly justified in exercising the imagina-iion with due appreciation of life's conditionsand possibilities rather than in allowing hismind to run riot in devising impossible schemesand dreaming futile unsubstantial « reams.Earth is to him terra firma ; and any ffortat improving man's position here is to betaken in connexion with this fact, and tobe shaped in accordance therewith.

^ This practical character was stamped upon;utilitarianism at the very outset. JBenthamdefined Utility by opposing it to two things—viz., to Asceticism, on the one hand, and, onthe otlier hand, to Sympathy and Antipathf

;

thereby bringing out both its practical nativeand the need of constantly guarding againstour being perverted by prejudice «-tjfvercomeby the emotions. In other wordsJThJ wantedutilitarianism to be a working creed,lopposedboth to the " cloister'd vertue," Twith its

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^^^T °"^°"-* «» the danger.

appeak^i, • °" «Perience. and it

the iw.^Xtrnn'V % '° "''*^

Wsenn^nr ^ ^ consequences; and

—Derhan. r ™ether an idea workt or notnowZ ' u " *" ""^ hetter that it does

this i^ sui^cient rnot wUlT^ '^^*''^'meaning that we rel^1^^^* •""*".*^*flection," o-er anH »i^ ^. *

**"" '*

w "semtior- '!~r.*hat is containedsensation; and it is only fair to say

THE UTILITARIAN POSITION 28that utilitarians like J. S. Mil] read consider-ably more into it than was done by Bentham.But it will depend also upon how we definethe individual, who is the subject acquiringknowledge. The old accepted view was tolook upon the individual as a self-containedindependent unit, bringing with him at birtha mind that is a tabula rasa^ or that resemblesa clean sheet of writing-paper, *' void of allcharacters," and dependent for all the ideasthat he might come to possess on his ownexperience, learning through personal trialand bungling what was necessary to formcharcuiter and to make him a success in life.Little or no account was taken either ofheredity, or the influence of ancestors uponhim; or of the fact that the society intowhich he is bom is organized independentlyof him and affects him in all-cont^'olling waysthrough its established customs and institu-tions, through its prejudices and aspirations,through its limited interests as well as throughits ideals ; or of the all-important circumstancethat he is introduced at birth into a familygroup, which possesses a formed language,more or less developed, but which, even at itslowest level, imparts to him ideas and know-ledge which he himself does not consciously

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quisitJon as timo^Jr ^ intellectual ac-

not be to him whrt rtt tV. f\ T'""* ~"'

THE UTILITARIAN POSITION 25wrong, all that we understand by moraljudgment^ implicating condemnation or ap-proval of an agent and his action, togetherwith the feelings peculiar to conscience (suchas moral indignation and remorse)—in a word,

'

the phenomena f moral consciousness inevery form—are all, according to the utili-tarian, experiential in their origin and associ-|ated with the feelings of pleasure and pain.lAnd not only this, but from experience weget also the criterion or test of moral ideas—the standard by which to estimate theirvalue. >^e value of a moral principle^itJsmaintained, lies in the consequence? that theapplication of it entails—t. c, in the am

»8 POLITICAL THOUGHT

Sjm ^i^' "*"'?' °' philosophy, utm-"n«tt«m and associationum have gone to-

deals witS !/ ' """""""'"n necessarily

still mor. .tPf"*^"part from experience—

n^ TT'ji ''T P°"'"* *° ^»« happi-

Kr^tr^*"**"'""'" *»"'

THE UTILITARIAN POSITION 27men's experienceN^ As, moreover, conductcounts most for if happy life, it is necessaryto be able to gauge and to forecast con-sequences of action—to know what a choiceof this or a rejection of that is likely to leadto, how the present may tell upon the future,and the like; and this again means associa-tion. And association is, further, necessaryfor the formation of habits (a thing so -rital tothe ethical man) and toythe reformation ofthe transgressor. Thus/association comes tobe of paramount importance, if " utilicy " ismade the guide of life»|.

But, in the next place, associationism isnecessary, if a scientific explanation is to beoffered of conscience (its character, its genesis,its working, its power), and if there is to berational explanation of the fact that, thoughpleasure is to be the end at which man aims,he does not always, in the sphere of ethicalendeavour, aim at it directly, but makes it hischief business to act in life in accordancg,jvithwhat he conceives to be right and duty. jTo theutilitarian, as much as to every oil «jr seriousethicist, " duty " stands for the supreme moralidea, with its allies " virtue " and " obliga-tion,'* addressing man with magisterial force

;

but the utilitarian undertakes to analyze these

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lie. behind th^r^ .L ttt "* '''P'™"*^assocUtioG^«over^;"^"7

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formed product in %, '^ *"" '"*° 'hethe value of^h ^ ""^ ''*''"«'» '«>"on theco^t^ry ft C^"'l

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THE UTILITARIAN POSITION 29

From what has now been said, it is easy tosee where the merit of utilitarianism lies. It

is intensely human and intensely practical.It is not merely an ethical theory with claimsto scientific recognition, but also a theory

that enters the realm of politics and aims atfinding itself embodied in State legislation.It is directh' in touch with the living move-ments and interests of men, as these arefound in society pushing on to a higher level.That, surely, is no mean recommendation.

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CHAPTER IIJEREMY BENTHAM : HIS L..E AND

WRITINOS

Bentbam beguM the Utilitarian successionof the m^teenth century, and was "^ eom"mandrng figure of the vigorous English uXtarian movement. Among the sreatest nf hi.strtG ""V"""^^

M"> andrl™ John'Muart, George G-,te, and Alexander Bain ^Tsides being philosophers and thinke^ aTihesJtoTf^ f ''' "'^' ''"* *"'"~1' the Barfor the advocacy of practical legislation an^reform. The Mills /f.n, '"^K'^'^on and^..i*- -f™

™"ls (father and son) held

K::r^d^r^L°«x.^-r-"f^rraiirfra^xl-^^^^literary career, h; w^ att^'hedrth! R .'of Health and had a prac;^ ll^^°tl^^ ^j^P^nence in administration,^kderEdwm Chadwick. On the juridical Tide'

30

JEREMY BENTHAM 81John Austin, in his Province of JurisprudenceDetermined, developed the utilitarian prin-

ciples; and Ricardo upheld them in PoliticalEconomy. As political thinkers, they wereall (with one partial exception) staunchadvocates of liberal and progressive measureson a philosophical basis, and belong to thegroup usually known as "the PhilosophicalRadicals."

We begin with Bentham.Born on February 15, 1748, in Red Lion

Street, Houndsditch, London, Jeremy Bent-ham lived a full, happy, and laborious lifefor over eighty-four years, and died at Queen'sSquare Place, Westminster, on June 6, 1882.Both his father and his grandfather werelawyers; and he himself, after graduatingB.A. at Oxford in 17fi3, at the age of six-teen (completed by the degree of M.A. in1766), studied law, and was called to theBar in 1772. His inclinations, however, didnot lie in that directioni; and so he dis-carded the idea of practising as a barrister,and devoted himfelf to the study of legisla-tion, and became the strenuous advocateof reform—constitutional, legal, social, andeconomic.

As a boy, he was exceptionally precocious,

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88 POLITICAL THOUGHTand his father had high expectations of himas a lawye^ having visions even of th"Woolsack. He was also very sensitive esoe-c.alty to two things-blamVand feir andhe himself has told us that his earliest recol-lection was of " the pain of sympathy." That

nionVr^r"*' P'^^8'"e '^^ '-^^ Champion of the downtrodden and the sufferingof men. As a student in his earlier dayswhile attrarted by languages, he was pa^f^.'^^dyfond of chemistry and of all experimental

" m'^IT '"L,"'*''•' ''^P'-essed himself thus :My humble, but assiduous labours, which Ihope will not cease but with my life, I desireto be engaged m the service of my country."So they were; and a noble service diH herenaer, not likely to be forgotten.

was the l-rag,neni on Govemment~an uncom-promising attack on Blaekstone's eulogy of

rr/^i'lCo-"*'*""""- It appeared in

1776. and brought him immediate fame • in

Whig Lord Shelburne, then the Secretary ofState (afterwards Marquis of Laasdo^e)who, somewhat later (viz., in 1781), aft^Hht

. >.

JEREMY BENTHAM 88publication of the Introduction to the PnncipleaofMorals and Legislation, called upon Benthamand mvited h?.. to visit him at Bowood.This was but 'he first ot nany visits paid byBentham to B >v >od, wh re he was supremelyhappy. There he n..^ c:aly enjoyed the kind-ness and encouragement of the pleasantBowood family, and entered cheerfully intothe sociality of the house (cards, chess,bilhards, music, etc.), but was brought intoimmediate contact with distinguished stetes-men and eminent men of letters-such asWilhani Pitt, Camden, Homilly, Dumont,Barr^, Dunnmg.His writings are voluminous, and, if we

include his correspondence, his publishedworks (apart from his unpublished MSS.)fill eleven goodly octavo volumes, closelyprinted m two-columned pages, in the stan-dard edition of J. Bowring. The wholeconstitutes a huge mass of reasoned matterwell worth rtudy to-day, but demandingexceptional patience and attention. Someof the more representative of them, besidesthe Fragment on GavernmerU, are :—A Defenceof V^ry published in 1787 ; An IrUrodLonl^the Przfunples of Morals and Legislation1.'89; Discourse on Civil and Penal LegisU^

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84 POLITICAL THOUGHTtion, 1802; A Theory of Punishments andRewards, 1811; A Treatise on Judicial Evi-dence 1813; Papers upon Codification andPMcInstruction, 1817; The Book ofFallacies,1824 In 1824, also, he founded and financedThe Westminster Review, which was destinedto play a very important part in fanningpubhc interest in political questions and indisserninating Bentham's ideas and principles.

f^f /l*^fT^ ^^ /?a«o«afe of Evidence,edited by J. S. MUI. His last years weredevoted to the production of his Constitutionaltodeipavt of which was published, before hisdeath, m 1830).Bentham's literary style changed as the

years went on. His early writings are markedby clearness, terseness, and vivacity; but hislater works are rendered distinctly prolixand repellent by the over-elaboration ofar^ments, the excessive love of dissectionand detail, and the overloading with technicaluncouth terms-often awkwardly formed andneedlessly unattractive. Referring to a pub-hshed letter of his youth, he himself says :Some will say it was better written than

anything I write now. I had not then in-vented any part of my new lingo." Theinvented " lingo " makes all the difference I

JEREMY BENTHAM S5When, however, we turn to his correspond-

r„",S; T w"? *?"'' *''°"8'' ''« '«««>^ tointelleetuaJ fnends (of various nationaUties)dealing with political, constitutional, educa-tional or legislative subjects can be heavyenough those to others (especiaUy to memberof the Bowood household) can be bright andfacetious. He can be quite a pleasa-.t corre-spondent, witty and playful, when he caresFor instance, writing to Lord Holtond anddiscnminating between prose and poetry, he

1 I ^ difference. Prose is where all ther* * *":.' '"''* «° "" *° the margin-poetry IS where some of them fall short vIt It ought also to be noted that, although

of hul'" ^ '''"berance and uncouthnessof his terminology, his newly-coined wc^

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86 POLITICAL THOUGF-son," he says, "is the pompous vamper ofcommonplaee morality-.,! ph^e, ^ZT^^tewithout being true."

tively early, ft was effected by EtiemieIWnt (with whom he first eamein c^nZl

^ftuifo^rX^^L^fr--. '""•^'o^na/,. n„Ki- I^ I^gtsUUton civile etV^JT "^ '? '*'''• ^'*"

JEREMY BENTHAM 87and vigorous advocacy of Benthamism was apotent force in the propagation of it. He hada steadfast friend also in Sir Samuel Romilly,the distmguished lawyer, who served himwell

;and another auxiliary (inough of the

younger generation) in Ricardo, the politicaleconomist of whom Bentham used to say

:

I was the spiritual father of Mill, and WKIIwas the spiritual father of Ricardo : so thatRicardo w-as my spiritual grandson." Amonggreat parhamentarians with whom he sotinto immediate influential contact, we fedlx)rd Brougham-whose attitude on current

buf^r' K°^'^''' ^"**^«'" ""^ criticized,but with whom, nevertheless, he was on suchintimate terms that he could address him,

Lt « ""^^'""^ °^ ^ ^'^^'^ ^ "My dearestBest Boy, or as " Dear sweet Little Poppet,"and Brougham made reply to " Dear Gmnd-papa I In the stalwart Joseph Hume (" thattruly honest and meritorious citizen," as he^ol'r;:*'^

'""'y *-^ representative thepeople of this country ever had, and onen.ore than, under such a form of government,they have any right to expect to have ") he

drotr'''*^"'r*"'"PP«^^'^ and no lessdevoted was Sir Francis Burdett, on whom hecould usually rely and whose resolutions in

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able of all l^^^erenu'^'^v T ''"^'^"Daniel O'Connefl Tf *",.^*'^»«n»ent wasR*.r,*k

"'^""®^^- At one time of his lif**

naeretanding of a conversation with l^rA

as oir Francis Burdett caIIbH it\""-'"«^>

his limitations R«! i, ^ accentuated

foiblLar^hZff «^H h""*'7""'^ °''^- Hi»are nit off, and his real worth affection-W a^LtTp '" ''"= ""'"-'S ^?en ^

tt«m K""^^ RomilJy-s account of Ben-tham as host at Ford Abbey :-" We fo^dh'm passmg his time, as he has always t^^

h.m,,T7*'"'*y y^^'^' "'o'^iy applying

;nghisCiW,nndCriSi''^^-:;,:'^'j,-X«

takmg exercise by way of fitting himself

JEREMY BENTHAM 89for his labours, or, to use his own strangelyinvented phraseology, * teking his antejenta-cular and post-prandial walks,' to preparehimself for the task of codification. TiiereIS something burlesque enough in this lan-guage

;but it is impossible to know Bentham,

and to have witnessed his benevolence, hisdismterestedness, and the zeal with which hehas devoted his whole hfe to the service ofhis fellow-creatures, without admiring andrevering him.

'It stands to Bentham's credit

also that he was extremely fond of the loweranimals, mveighed against cruelty to themand advocated legislation on their behalf.

Si "1 \'^u ^* ^'"^°" ^^'' "abscondingplace) which used to follow him about in

L K ? J ^ ^'^^^"^ag^d mice to play aboutfnendship thus :-- 1 became once very in-timate with a colony of mic. They used torun up my legs, and eat crumbs from my lapI love everything that has four legs." Hereplied also in Nature-in flower, and treesand fields; and his garden was a supremepleasure to him He not only loved flo^we"but set himsel to know them botanicallyand nothing delighted him more than to ^unknown seeds sent him f.om foreign lands,

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40 POLITICAL THOUGHTwhich he proceeded to cultivate tor himselfand to share with his friends.

'

be«^nf"LT '^f' ""* ~'"^>» » hi.oeanng, and considerate of others- ™» i.could act the Bohemian occasion^" 'wLnwhen Madame de Sta«l call d ^^^i^^^^

^f-^^to^Ttoterrrdt^^tt"^

Mr. B=

JEREMY BENTHAM ^*' Let not the word appal you, for how-muchsoever your inferior in wit, you will not findme so in gaiety."

In character, Bentham was one of the mostupright and independent of men, scorning todo a selfish or mean thing, and never feai^ing the face of man. When, instigated byGeorge III, a Declaration was presented tothe Court of Denmark, urging a rupture withRussia, Bentham at once gave fierce opposition(this was in 1789), and, under the pseudonymof " Anti-Machiavel," scathingly analyzed theDeclaration in several closely-reasoned letters,published in The Public AdveHiser, holding upthe warhke policy to public indignation. Ananswer to his letters, under the designation" Partizan," was unsparingly criticized byhim. He was led to believe that the answerwas the production of George III; and so hesaid, "I fell upon the best of kings withredoubled vehemence." He was firmly con-vmced that this onslaught cost him the lossof one of his most cherished projects—hisPanopticon scheme—a scheme dealing in apractical way (as we shall see by and by)with the treatment of criminals, which wonthe sympathy of both Houses of Parliament,but was wrecked (so Bentham believed) by

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m'r^"!-^" '"" ™«°"' "hen the I^rOf Russia, appreciative of Bentliam-»%i-

to supply a Codification tort^'Jt"

f«.m even eeming to t,"J?H ""''''''™"'

oblieation A^^ ""''" » PeeuniaryDukC°WeitirarSv' ''""^*'''him for his rf,fJi T sternly reprimanded.^^^tte^iX^S-a^vta^JLtf^^^^^^^endmff with ** Vnw +1, •* ^'^^

physiL.y^'„ar.r'c;X''r::tir,i

violated your dutv ta !r' ^'^ y

JEREMY BENTHAM 43the amende honorable with greater grace andsmcenty. **

A trait in Bentham's character was hissympathy with the persecuted and the dis-trr sed m the political ferment of the timebnd his generosity in helping them. Many aperson and many a cause benefited by hisIt. and he had also the means; for he was

tl.^"^P^,^^^««o« of a substantial compe-

tence which was augmented at his fathers

^^r:i:l"""'^^' ^ *'^ ^^^ ^' ^'^ «^^

That consideration for others which char-

TZT. ^Z'"" ^' ^^'"^' ^*y« ^o'^tinued to

tLlli I u'"''^^"*' *^^"« P« lestthey should be pained and subjected t^ un-

MZZrK^"'\ And, choosing h.s trustedfriend and biographer, John Bowring as hiswith his head resting on Bowring's bosom,

and t^r ^ ^^^d^ceased to speak, he smiled,and gasped my hand," says Bowring. " He7et Th

"' ^«^^*^°-*^^y' -d closed ^UmTkZ^ ."^^I '''' struggle-no suffering,-hfe faded into death-as the twilight blendsthe day with darkness." ^

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t:^.If ""r """ *"' ^« -tr;;'a^ax .wsk. and wearing Bentham-. wonted

K'^k^u-.

HI-

CHAPTER lUBENTHAM AS MORAL PHILOSOPHER

In the eighteenth century, English MoralPhilosophy showed a great diversity ofopinion, more especially on the two questionsof the Ethical Stendard and the nature ofthe Moral Faculty. There were the " MoralSense" philosophers, like Hutcheson andShaftesbury, who assimUated conscience tofeeling, and maintained that benevolence isthe supreme moral principle in man; therewere the " Intuitive " moral philosophers,like Bishop BuUer, who erected ConscienceiMo an independent faculty, intellectual inAs character, yet operating spontaneously^witk a unique authority; or, like Thomas*iit. in Scotland, who appealed to Common^^ (conceived by Beattie as an infaUible

flprt), whose deliverances were regarded-i beag supported by universal consent,«S|si£seeBec of men in general ; there

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fort'^'°"°7" "* ^'"'•"d Price, who set

Self-interest A • l\'"PP°" "' "«"« «

who I^Wthe eh1rs"t;:tTnT^T "'"'*''•ground of mora,^'a;7^Ji//«Lpp:t'bation; and upholders of UtUitv lit. H

'^

and Priestley, a„d Paley-theTast 'f T''presented ethin.. in . i- °'

*'''°™

defined Virtue as " tLl'^"""'*"'''»' »

BENTHAM AS PHILOSOPHER 47to Ot^ Principles of Morals and LegislaHon^-—"jNature has placed man under the go^m-aiice of two sovereign masters, pain andpleasure. It is for them alone to point outwhat we ought to do, as well as to detenninewhat we shall doi On the one hand thestandard of right"TCnd wrong, on the otherthe chain of causes and effects, are fastenedto their throne. They govern us in all wesay, in all we think : every effort we make tothrow off our subjection, will serve but todemonstrate and confirm it. . . fxhe principleof utility recognizes this subjection, andassumes it for the foundation of that system/

\j,*he object of which is to rear the fabric^bf

1 1^< felicity by the hands of reason and of law.^^''^^C' . . The principle of utility is the foundationj^B^ of the present work."

" ^y ,P^ principle of utility," he con-tinues, ^^ is meant that principle which ap-proves or disapproves of every action what-soever, according to the tendency which itappears to have to augment or diminish thehappiness of the party whose interest is inquestion : or, what is the same thing in otherwords, to promote or to oppose that happi-ness. %I say of every action whatsoever; andtherefore not only of every action of a private

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48 POLITICAL THOUCaWindividual, but of ev^ry measure of ^v«rn-ment." And 'futilitji" itself Bentham dc-fines as " tM property in any object, wherebvIt tends to produce benefit, advantage'pleasure, good, or happiness (all this in thepresent case comes to the same thing), or(what comes again to the same thing) toprevent the happening of mischief, pain,fvil, or unhappiness to the party whosemterest is considered : if that party be thecommunity in general, then the happiness ofthe community

: if a particular individual,then the happiness of that individuafc*i^^Now, concerning tl^, it is impoftont toobserve that Bfentham's\doctrine applies, and18 mtended to apply, not only to morals, butalso to legislation; and, as a matter of factills great aim was to apply his principles toinstitutional, legislative, and law reformsN^n other words, he had a living and practicalinterest m view, and was not merely concernedwith barren speculative theory. \ Hence hesubstituted for " the principle of utUity "'themore significant phrase " the greatest happi-fi#ss principle," or (as he first expressed it)f the greatest happiness of the greatest^ifcimbcr principle. He is thinking in chief€»f the good or welfare of the community

BENTHAM AS PHILO^PHER 49and not simply of the individual; but, never-^theless, of the community as composed ofmdividuals, and, therefore, of the individualas one whose happiness is accomplkhedthrough co-operation with his fellows,

j Heis'psting action and legislation by theireff^s all round ; and through their effects,or the consequences that they entail, must theystand or fallN^On the other hand, that thepnnciple of utility is aU-potent is seen fromsuch facts as these .—that men everywhereact upon it; that even those who criticizeIt do so on the assumption that it is supreme;and that the two great opposed principles'(a) asceticism, or love of pain, and {b) sym-pathy and antipathy, or personal like anddislike, are only the principle of utUity wrongJyapplied. It is to the principle of antipathyor dislike, oftenest manifested in mere pre-judice, that Bentham ascribes the currentphilosophical theories of right and wrong ofthe intuitional type—theories that he passessuccessively in review and rejects.

If, then, pain and pleasure are supreme,it is necessary, on theoretical and on practicalgrounds alike, to ascertain the sources ofthem. This introduces us to Bentham'senumeration of the constituents of human

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«0 POLITICAL THOUGHThappiness; for fhe meaning of happin^sgiaccording to him/fe pleasure and the absenceof pam, or the surplus of pleasur^ver pajjiWhen alluding to the fact thatfhe first gotsight of the Greatest Happintss principlefrom Priestley \^he sometimes thinks that hemay have gof it from Beccaria—he mighthave gone to Hutcheson), he maintains thatPriestley, though acknowledging the principle,failed utterly to realize the true scope andsignificance of it, inasmuch as he did not seethat the essence of haziness is pleasure andthe absence of pain. rVhe sources recognizedare four in number:—the physical, the political,the moral, and the religiousljEach of theseIS a " sanction," inasmuch as the pleasuresand pains belonging to it give a binding forceto any law or rule of conduct. When painor pleasure comes to us in the ordinary courseof nature, without any intervention or pur-poseful modification of will, it is said to issuefrom the physical sanction: e.g., temperanceconserves health and produces pleasure; dis-ease is naturally brought on by intemperance,and pain is the result. When it comesthrough properly constituted authoritv in thecommunity, and is administered by'^a par-ticular person or persons duly accredited

BENTHAM AS PHILOSOPHER 51(say, a judge), it issues from the politicalsanction, or what we usually know as thelaw of the land. The moral sanction desig-nates the pressure of public opinion upon us,and should more properly be called thepopular sanction. The religious sanction hasreference to our belief in God and His rela-tion to us in the present life and for thefuture.

The problem for the moralist and thelegislator, then, is apparent. It is how bestto make these sanctions operative for humanhappiness, individual and general ; the moralistand the legislator being both actuated by thesame motive, though each having his ownmethod.

But pleasures and pains differ, not only asto their source; they differ also as to theirworth or value. And so we must next deter-mme the mode of measuring " the value ofa lot of pleasure or pain." This is clearlyimportant from the standpoint of the legis*-lator, whose chief concern is the apportioningof lots of happiness, or, at any rate, legislatingin such a way that happiness may be dis-tributed in the community on the principlethat "everybody is to count >r one, andno one for more than one." But it is indis-

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«2 POLITICAL THOUGHTpensable also for the mow .st. How. then«« we to estimate value for the individual.'and how are we to estimate it for numbersof mdmduals, or for society in general?So far as the individual is concerned, ^he

value of a pleasure or a pain, consideredWItself, depends on four things-its intensity.Its duration, its certainty or. uncertainty, andIts propmquity or remoteness^ If, in additionto estimating the value of li pleasure or apain taken by itself, we wish to estimate thetendency of the act that produced it, twoother considerations have to be taken intoaccounf-viz., ii^ fecundity N^i. .., the likeli-hood of Its being foUowed by sensations of thesame kind, pleasure by pleasures and painby pams) and its purity'>

BENTHAM AS PHILOSOTHER 58So then,]Tt is a matter of a hedonistic

calculus—of ^summing up pleasures and painsm any particular case, ani balancing thepleasures against the pains, and estimatingthe value accordingly>This is the theoreti-cally perfect process; but, in actual practice,m a civilized society like that enjoyed in.Great Bntam, it is not necessary to gothrough the process strictly, previously toevery moral judgment formed or to everylegislative or judicial operation. Things areshortened for us by the fact that we livem an organized community, with customs,laws, rules, and institutions provided forour guidance, based on a large and varied,experience.

But more even than this is necessary ifthe utUitarian principle is to be sufficient toexplam both moral and political action-action with a view to legislation : there isneeded a distinct enumeration of the kindsof pleasures and pains. This, accordingly/Bentham offers. After distinguishing be-tween simple and complex pleasures andpains he devotes considerable space to theelucidation of those of them that are simplesetting down the pleasures as fourteen andthe pains as twelve. The simple pleasures

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«* POLITICAL THOUGHTare those of sense, of wealth, of skiU, ofamity, of a good name, of power, of piety,of benevolence, of malevolence, of memory, ofimagination, of expectation, of association,and of relief. The simple pains are :~painsof pnvation, of the senses, of awkwardness, ofenmity of an iU-name, of piety, of benevo-lenje, of malevolence, of memory, of imagina-tion, of expectation, and of association. ItIS obvious that this enumeration of pleasuresand of pains is not made on any scientificor logical plan: it is not exhaustive, norare the members of it (in either case)mutually exclusive. It is simply a roughcollection, adequate, perhaps, to practicalpurposes.

In this connexion, we may advert also tothe importance, both for the moralist andthe legislator, of paying regard to the cir-cumstances that influence sensibility. Thesecircumstances Bentham gives as thirty-one. We need not follow him. But theyare such as health, bodily imperfection,quantity and quality of knowledge, strengthof intellectual powers, bent or inclination,moral and religious sensibUity and biases,pecuniary circumstances, rank, educationGovernment, etc.

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BENTHAM AS PHILOSOPHER 55The way is now clear for a consideration

of Human Action in general; dealing withthe distinctively ethical notions of right andwrong, good and evil, merit and demerit asattaching to actions, and with the nature ofpunishment and the apportioning of it bythe moralist and the legislator respectively.In estimating the morality of an action,

as also in dealing with a particular act oflegislation, the intention of the doer has tobe taken into account; and we have, further,to take a«eount of his consciousness of conse-quences, ^ut not intention only, illuminatedby consequences, has to be considered; it isnecessary, in addition, to consider motivkThe two things, intention and motive, areby no means the same. For example, indomg a particular action, a man's intentionmay be (say) to benefit a neighbour, but themotive that urges him to it is the particularregard that he entertains towards that neigh-bour or it may be his regard for somefriend who has requested his good offices inthe neighbour's behalf. The motive is whatprompts him to act; the action itself iscovered by his intention. How, then, doesmotive stand related to intention?

In handling this question, Bentham deals

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expect . phUosophicd lawyer to do. d»wh»mtending its consequences. It » indi.puUble

™t!K f,T"'°"'"f """"« " rcpomibility!much will depend on what exactly «,e .~nton . per«,„. a man, without intendJTalso mjures the person, the gravity of the«tuat.on is mitigated by the fact ttTt ttemjury was unintended. On the othrUd.fa man .ntended to injure another, but W.rt miscarried and no injury was done, hecannot claim exemption from the guilt of the:rz;4^:?.

«""«" "^p'-o-'-ed a:All this is plain enough from the side

cult.«m carrying it out by the legislatorand the judge, for whom the overt actionor the consequences must count for mostIn the eye of the judge, in a Court^iJustice the accused has either done or notdone the action laid to his cha»e and

With regard 5o motives : they are whatprompt, induce or determine the^lir: ^,

BENTHAM AS PHILOSOPHER 5Tin the ultimate analysis, what lo paampuand determines arc pleasure and pais. Sothat " a motive is substantially nothing morethan pleasure, or pain, operating in a certainmanner." Moreover, it is a point that Ben-tham insists on with great rigour that motivesare not in themselves either constantly goodor constantly bad, but that a motive 'is onlygood or bad " with reference to its effects ineach individual instance; and principallyfrom the intention it gives birth to: fromwhich arise ... the most material part ofits effects. A motive is good, when theintention it gives birth to is a good one;bad, when the intention is a bad one : andan intention is good or bad, according to thematerial consequences that are the objectsof it."

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Note may here be made of the fact that,with his usual thoroughness, Bentham drewup an elaborate table of the Springs ofAction, the nature of which may be suffi-ciently gathered from the long title that hegives to it, in which also we see his pedanticlove of technical terminology :—" A Table ofthe Springs of Action : shewing the severalspecies of pleasures and pains of which man'snature is susceptible, together with the

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a^Z ^^'"'^y corresponding to ttem :^l^i "^ t^ "' •PP««»«o'». Neutral.st^T^f "1^ ^""Si'Wo. by which eachspecies of motives i, wont to be designated :OJ^*^-

'" '^'^'^ Explanatory note, and

S^CT '"'""'*'"' °' *« application,^nfTw • ^u

"""" "" *'''» Table is su,-tZ r '".*^ ""^**' °' « basi, or founda-tipn. of and for the art and «>ience of Morals,otherw,«, temed Ethic, whether PrivateT;PuWic «/.« Polities (including Legislation^meoretical or Practical alias Deontology-

m^^ .u',Z *=*Prial, which

EtLr *^y^'«''°8y' 'n » f» as concernsEthic, and History (including Biography) insofter as considered in an Ethici p^iJt^

;"

What, next, let us asic, is the order ofpre-eminence among motives? It is deter-mmed by the greater or less likelihood of it,dictates, taken in a general view, t^l

i;.k^the^;r^t':;:t'"''iSr'"'t!.^^^''^

«* D 1 P'ace. This is the princiDleof Benevolence, of which Briti,h moLists of

BENTHAM AS PHILOSOPHER 59the eighteenth century and the early partof the nineteenth century made so much.The difficulties connected with the applica-tion of benevolence arising from the com-petition of consequences, according as thebenevolence extends to a larger or a smallergroup of human beings, and according as theextent of interests conflicts with their im-portance, must be directly faced. This meansthat benevolence, in order to be effective,must be both extensive and enlightened—

a

restricted benevolence may err. Matters areeased to us in the actual working by the factthat the dictates of private benevolence rarelyconflict with those of public benevolence.Next to Goodwill in order of pre-eminence

comes Love of Reputation. Here, too, thedictates, for the most part, are coincidentwith those of public utility. When the coin-cidence is disturbed, it is mainly owing tothe fact that people allow themselves in theirlikes and dislikes, in their approbations anddisapprobations, to be guided, not by utility,but either by asceticism or by sympathy orantipathy.

And so with the other two principles thatoperate as motives— viz.. Desire of Amityor personal affection, and the Dictates of

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«> POLITICAL THOUGHT»di«ion. a«* of the two is determined inrfL^l» P^-^ninence by the tendenc^til T^ *°~™ •*« "'«>• " to Jnistrate!aff«=t.on), and next the dictates o( reUgion

« the higW importance for BenthamitephU«ophy.Y placing Benevolenj^ at tS^the' t^ *Z r""'"* ^^ 'hole system?,greatest number, not forgetting that »h»individual is to count for one it^^.^

*i^ Tewf ""^"^ ""y '"^ "t the rc^tOf ,t. oelf-love and selfishness are by nomeans the same thing. ^

We have just seen that good and bad «r»not pr«iicates strictly applLble to a ma^motives. What, then, is there about hta to

BENTHAM AS PHILOSOPHER 61which these predicates may be properlyapplied? To this the answer is, His dis-position. " Now disposition is a kind offictitious entity, feigned for the convenienceof discourse, in order to express what thereis supposed to be permanent in a man*sframe of mind, where, on such or such anoccasion, he has been influenced by such orsuch a motive, to engage in an act, which,as it appeared to him, was of such or such atendency." What, theCj determines the good-ness or h'dness of disposition? Just, as inthe other cases, its effects—its effects in in-creasing or diminisliing the happiness of thecommunity, including that of the individualhimself.

Here, it is necessary to observe that dis-position is ultimately associated with inten-tion ; and two things are of vast significance,both boiie out by our experience—(a) that,in the ordinary course of things, the conse-quences of actions usually turn out confoim-able to intentions, and (b) that " a man whoentertains intentions of doing mischief at onetime is apt to entertain the like intentions atanother."

What, now, of Punishment? So far aspolitics and jurisprudence are concerned, the

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BENTHAM AS PHILOSOPHER 6^reformation of the individual transgressorXThis removes the apportionment of punisK^ment from the wish or desire of the avengingindividual to the realm of reason and thefact of the solidarity of the race, or thenatural responsibility of a man for the welfareof his fellow. And, in the last place, punish-ment should have in view the effect, by wayof example, upon the community—in otherwords, its effect should be prohibitive ordeterrent.

This summary of the salient ethical posi-tions of Bentham, following mainly thetreatise on >^orals and Legislation, mayserve to show the thoroughgoing and insistentway in which he carries his ruling principle,the Greatest Happiness principle, through thevarious spheres of moral conduct. He regardsthe essence of happiness to be pleasure andthe absence of pain, and claims that, althoughhe got the suggestion of the principle fromPriestley, he Wie an entirely new andoriginal use of it}py thus seizing the essentialpoint of happiness and carrying it out in allthe details of its workings. It became neces-sary also to connect pleasure with its springs,so as to give its ethical and moral bearings.

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«4 POUTICAL THOUGHT^e has. further, a scheme of pleasure values;^tunated, however, according to the quantityof pleasure, without consideration of itsquality. \A bri6f STirvey like this of a huge mass of

material is necessarily somewhat dry andlifeless; but there is life enough in Bentham'sworking out of his thesis, and he has the

.great merit of engaging the reader»s attentionby the frequent use of concrete examples andhappy illustratiors, thereby making him feelthat it is iio mere academic discussion thathe IS listening to, but that a real effort isbemg made to meet the living man and hisdiffioulties and to help him to understandthe unmensely important subject discussed,with a view to his own life and conduct.

II. No sooner were Bentham's views givenforth to the world than the critic and theobjector appeared, and they have been atwork ever since. One or two objectionsamied at the doctrine of pleasure may beconsidered.

/ It has been urged that if, as Benthammamtams, the ultimate motives of humanaction be pleasure and pain, then these areto be measured only by their quantity and

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by the hmits which the physicai organismplaces to the realization of pleasure or^thee^nence of pain. This means that we arereduced to shrewd calculation of the resultsthat mdulgence or restraint is likely to pro-duce, and Prudemj*. becomes the ruhng virtueIn other words, fBentham's philosophy rises'no higher than that of self-regard. which,the objector says, is but another name forselfishness, and is incompatible wETloftyetW aspiration and achievement.But the objection in this fortS^ is not

decisive;

for prudence is not by any meansIdentical with selfishness, nor is it to betreated as a despicable virtue. On the con-trary, given man's dependence on the bodyas a sentient organism and the hmitations toenjoyment which that dependence imphes.together with the native tendency in humannature to go beyond the hmitations, andprudence becomes an important virtue, of^igh significance to the legislator. WhereBentham fails is, not in setting value onprudence, but in not sufficiently emphasizingthe act that the individual's prudexice_j!*om//y conditioned, and so is inseparable

IZL f ""^^'^ ^^ ^*^- He do^ notappreciate pure disinterestedness, but ulti-

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«B POLmCAL THOUOHf

would be gr^ur than thT^^t^^tn^ it brings. This isSTy^*!the ctameter of disinterestedness! «,d^then^rto-^^T^L"^" «-- -rJT^ «f objection to Bentham ha, been^Z , «"""•' *'^* ^n^deratioTo,^™^^^i --St:ss:^hit^^tn.e that pleasure a» pleasure is neither"^ nor .mmonU, yet. inasmVh as thethe^cS^i ^;;'* "«**' to be pheed underwh^^ 'Ummnation of reason, «,d,W*tes and passions have to be restrained•nd »e present gratification has to beT«

P^"Ks and moderation of pfeasBres ifeenerri have to be exercised in the^ Sconsequences, to the individual «.d toX«!

BEOTHAM AS PHILOSOPHER 67•nd tbAt meuis morality. MoraHty is essen-t»«y rational control; and it would never(Bome into view at aU if pleasures did notcompete Mid over-indulgence lead to seriousrwults. This is accentuated by the fact thatthe mdividual is a " person " among otherpersons, and that his pleasures have to belin^ted by theirs.

Plausibility is given to the objection, per-haps, by the fact that the Benthamite isassumed to be a man constantly concerned^th a cold, selfish, brooding-over of results—that he can never move or act until he hasfirst calculated, deKberately and consciously,how the particular movement or action is toturn out. But this constant conscious calcu-lating process is not demanded, Benthaminsists that, in a civilized community, conduct18 moulded for us in large measure by con-vention and society, and that social nries are^nerated and laws enacted embodying resultsof action as they have been crystalhaed bycenteries of experience, so that individualdehbemte calculation is rather the exceptionthan the rule. It is only seldom that weneed to sit down wid laboriously work outthe consequences for ourselves, in ordinarycases, we act with aH the spontaneity and

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A further objection has been made on theground that Bentham insists on testing con-duct by the number and quantity of thepleasures that it produces; but that is animpracticable test, inasmuch as "a sum ofpleasures " is an impossible conception.

This objection would have force if ethicswere an abstract science, strictly mathe-matical and demonstrative in its character—a science where absolute exactitude of measure-

BENTHAM AS PHILOSOPHER 69ment were possible at all points, and wherepsychology and experience were ignored. Butit is not valid when we are dealing with apractical science like ethics (or politics),where mathematical precision is impossible,but where, nevertheless, experience guidesand the motives by which men are promptedmay be approximately discovered and theirresults approximately foreseen. From thenecessities of the case, we cannot know thewhole of a man's character or motives—noteven does the individual know the whole ofhis own character or motives ; but we have,nevertheless, to act and to judge on theknowledge that we possess. And the natureof the case also requires us, in forecastingresults, to work by consideration of tendencies—which must often be merely guessed at, or,at the best, appraised by our knowledge ofaverages. Moreover, there is no incompati-bility between aiming (not necessarily withfull consciousness) at a sum of pleasures, orpleasure on the whole, and (say) acting orthinking for the sake of action or thinking,without an inunediate reference to self. Thishas been greatly misunderstood. So long asmtellectual contemplation and disinterestedconduct are inseparably associated with or

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W POLITICAL THOUGHTacwmpanied by pleasuie (which in our ex-pcncnee they areX they must enter into thecalculation of "a sum of pleMuics," for aconsdous itate is not simply pleasant butpleasant as modified by the other -ontentsol the state; and although pleasure, on anygiven occasion, may not be the end con-sciously aimed at in the action, or the thin^that we are inwnediately seeking in intellectualeontemplation, it is the practical test bywhich we gauge the desirability and thesignificance of the action, and which affordsus the reason why we go on thinking or whywe devote ourselves continuously to con-templation. A "sum of pleasures "—iuchas we exphcitly formulate—may not ade-quately represent the whole situation, if wedemand mathematical precision and exhaus-tive analysis; but it is the beat practicalstandard by which we can weigh and measureIt. And, as a matter of fact, it is a standardthat men constantly employ. Whatever otherthmgs they may aim at or desire (so experi-ence teaches), they desire to have as muchpleasure as possible, pleasure as fully organ-ised as poesiWe, and as teng a time of enjoy-ment of pleasure as possible. They have anIdea of the fuhiess of pleasure, which capti-

BENTHAM AS PHILOSOPHER 71vates their desires, and to this they addcontinuance or repetition ; which two thingsconstitute a sum (fulness plus continuanceor repetition) that is operative in determiningtheir conduct.

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CHAPTER IVBENTHAM AS SOCIAL AND POUTICAL

THINKER

I. General PosmoN.-When Bentham beaanto wnte on political questions, it waT^S^moment of insistence on " the naiumlZhU ••of man The Revolutionists in rI"! Lma* this the basis of their clain^ntd^^SXn of'l '""' f' •"-• - "-^declaration of Inccpendence. The doctrinehad found staunch upholders in EngC^JZL""h *"» '^^"'"- " "«" strenuously"gnis simple nonsense: natural o«^ •prescriptible rights rhetorical nl^^^^^sense upon stilts." His reasoning^ ^^y' -ne ^rit "r"^ "^'P''^ -^^.a^^Si^iXtThTs^t

nc oi fact. The maxim that ail men72

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BENTHAM AS SOCIAL THINKER 78were, or ought to be, equal, asserts correctlythat there must not be arbitrary diiferencesEvery inequahty should have its justiflca-tion in a reasonable system. But when thisundeniable logical canon is taken to provethat men actually « .(.ual, there is anobvious begging of -Ik n-i-A, m. In pointof fact, the theonV s i-nvdnt '.

, roceededto disfranchise h.m iV .,,, ,., accountof sex, and a Vhii oi !>

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74 POLITICAL THOUGHTis Mi!y one sfttisfacftcny awwef, in the viewovemraent. or government by the majorityof representatives duly elected by ttie peopkshe set hifflsell to consider how best snoligovernment mij^t be carried on, mhI whatreforms wouM be necessary in ihe BritisliCwistitaition for that end. For he wm farftwi^ considering "the matchless constita-toon as perfect. Three things in p^ticnlar

^

he counselled with a view to amendment.Krst, Umver^ manhood «#v1g.^-«ubject,however, to the condition that the adultexercismg the franchise should be able toread This quaKfication was in the interestof education, which Bentham (and aU tfieutihtanans) greatly valued. Qn the otherha^, he eschewed the question of womensutoHje

;brushing it aside witli the reflection

that ,t would be time to consider it whenthere was a real demand for it. The demand

BENTHAM AS SOCIAL THINKER T5in his day came from an insignificant number,hut the opposition was exceedingly strong*and, m the circumstances, he held that sub-misMon to the few would be so obvious anannoyance and injustice to the many tiiatthe thought of it imght be at once disnissedSecondly, Annual ParUaments. The ^Ibnk 4year's duration of a pariiament appeared tohim to give security against self-interest andlethargy on the part of the members elected.But It would also go far towards seciaingthat the legislator keep himself in constanttouch with his constituents, and afford"^opportunity to the electore to judge theirrepresentative, should he show a tendency tohold and enunciate views opposed to theireThirdly, Vote by Ballot. This is required in*cthe interest of electoral purity-* safeguard *against intimidation and bribery. In "thiswe have a point thoroughly characteristic ofthe utilitarians, though, as we shall find.J. S. Mill was opposed to it. Its moststrenuous advocate in ParUament, later on,was George Grote.Things have moved far since Bentham*s

day, yet in his direction. The Ballot is anaccompUshed fact, and Manhood Suffrageseems coming within the range of practical

PROPEItTY OFLAKEHEAO COLLEQIPOfiT ARTHUR, ONT.

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long distance apart. Railways and motor-f cars and steam-boats, the telegraph and the1 telephone, not to speak of the penny postagehave brought the representative and hiselectors, however far separated in space,very near together; and there is the Press,

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with its eye on parliamentary members, andI

teenly canvassing political opinions at allpomts-the importance of which Bentham so_fully appreciated that he stood forth as achampion of the Freedom of the Press.

The object of all these proposals was tosec^ the real and effective representationof the people : the democracy must have itsfull weight. For this purpose, still anotherthing seemed necessary-the equalizing of

^ect9ial..distiicts. So long-lTs meq-uferemained -small constituencies here, h.raeconstituencies there-bribery and corruptionwould go on, accentuated in the case of thesmaller constituencies because of the com-parative paucity of electors and the facility

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contemplated. Bentham intensely dislikedthe hereditary character of the House ofLords, which he regarded as having no de-fensible foundation. But he was also stronglyopposed to a Second Chamber altogether : hewould sweep it clean away, and leave onlythe _one legislative chamber of the people's Crepresentatives. In that event, his proposalof annual parliaments (with provision forcarrying forward legislation from one parlia-m*'. to another) came to his aid, offer-ing security for speedy legislation and theefficiency of the members.But he went a step farther still, and as--

sailed the Monarchy itself. He had no lovefor kings, and he had unbounded disUkeof George III, and spoke of him in veryuncomplimentary terms. Indeed, he heldhim up to public scorn, and especially tothe scorn of the French in his Jeremy Benthamto his Fellow-citizens of France, on Housesof Peers and Senates. His faith lay in a /.Re^blic. In that direction, he thought,"Sighl be found both efficiency and economy,and the supremacy of the people. On one

W POUTICAI, THOUGHT'

thing he w«s cUm. that the mtemte o£monarohs w«e not identical with the interest,rf their .objects. «d that the enormousexpense of a monarchy, with only obstruction

m fTi^"^^^^"" '" «'"™. was money•U spent. Hence his active sympathy withR»nce and the French Revolution, and with^ Umted State, of America and theirIndependence. Hence also his spirited de-taice of the people ag«nst the current chargesof «lf-mterest and the desire to overturn theimnciples of justice and common-sense. Thewhole doctrine of his Cofufitutumal Code has

to";^".%'-^P"''lie: and he himself, writing

to Admiral Mordvinoff, in 1824, declared ite

l-wcrid, by covering it over with Republics."TTiis extreme Radicalism may seem sur-pnsing to come from one who opposed the^tnne of "the natural rights" rf„I„

Of his leading principle of maximum happi-

tt« &ng s interest alone is supreme; given ahmited monarchy, and the interest of aPnvdeged cUss, as well as that of the sovereien

ttte interests of the governors and the

BENTEQkH AS SOCIAL THINKER 79i^'miicd become identicaU for the gicatesthappiaess of the greatest number ur thai thesiipreme ead in view.

III. Legislation.—We have already seen,m Chapter III, the intimate relation, inBentham's view, between legislation andethics, or, as he called it, in a tenn of hisown coining, Deontology (the science of rightand duty). They both deal with humanacti

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reanzataon of the capacity of one's natureto^cnUfy duty with love and to accept t^ngft and render service spontaneously „d^ly. Hence the difficulty that confroTuthe legislator. As it has been put by hSBurton, summarizing Bentham, " that ^^hich^n^y be each man's duty to do it may notW. *K 1 v""'' '^«'''**°' to enforce uponhis subjects, because the very act of enfXment may have in it elements ^f 2Stothe community, preponderant over theother words, it may tend to the greatest

but ,t may be mjunous to the happiness ofthe commmuty in general to com^H^ tofoUow such a rule if his inclination'^ »Z^.t. For mstanee. in the Defe,^ „/ ^^n^rc^'Tor^th

*~"°"'"« "' -»-/«t 1 -^hmterest, for the purpose of impiovidentivhTo^ t° extravagance, is J^nde^law; for

" ^'^' '* ^ '"""d that thelaws for suppressmg usurious transactions ar^«. mischievous m their effect that they too^

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BENTHAM AS SOCIAL THINKER 81condemned for precisely the same reason—their malign influence on human happiness."The legislator has difficulties also in ad-

justing the various ends that the law has inview. These ends are four in number-security, subsistence, abundance, and equality;and they are to some extent conflicting. Thedifficulties, if acutely felt in Bentham's day,are no less acute still. Questions such asthese arise and press for a solution :—Arepeople to be allowed to starve before themeans of those who have plenty are inter-fered with ? What of the land problem andsecurity of property? What about Labourand strikes and the claims of Industry andthe shaking of public confidence? Clearlythe difficulties in matters such as these arebut mstances of the one great difficulty ofhow to adjust the various antagonistic aimsand claims, and make the sacrifices that arenecessary, on this side and on that, if even atolerably satisfactory reform is to be effected.How is equality to be adjusted to abundance ?How is abundance possible without security ?What can be of any worth, if subsistence bewanting?

Next, as the object of legislation is thegood of the people, and as laws are made to

M FOUnCAL THOUGHTbe obeyed and not to be broken, it it neces-sary for legislation to carry the people alongwith it. No doubt, laws may be enforced(and in some circumstances should be en-forced) whether they are popular or not;but It IS only when people voluntarily acquiescem them, and accept them without coercion,that they can be truly effective. It is thisgeneral acquiescence that gives to legisUitionIts permanence and efficiency, and ^kes itconduce to the happiness and welfare oi thecommunity. General dissatisfaction meansultunately rebellion. Therefore, in order tosecure a ready acquiescence on the partof the community, the reasons for legis-lation should be given and made plain andobvious.

The practical reforms advocated by Ben-tham are too numerous to mention. Onewas the reformation of the Poor Laws, onthe guiding principle erf utilizing the able-bocbed pauper and suppressing the mendicantor sturdy beggar." In this relation, hewas the first to sketch a system of ediKsationfor pauper chUdren. and to suggest the insti-tution of "Frugality Banks," which hasdeveloped into the " Savings Bank " systemof to-day, which is now such a power for good

BENTHAM AS SOCIAL THINKER 88in the land. Again, he turned his attentionto Health, and made proposal& whieh were byand by carried into effect by Edwin Chad-wick, head of the Board of Health, and whichhave assumed the magnitude and importanceof the Sanitation legislation of the presentday. On every side, his ideas overflowed;and they were mostly of the practical kind,which has told in later legislation.

IV. Political Economy.—Like most otherthinkers of the time, Bentham was an ardentfollower of Adam Smith; but he did nothesitate to dissent from his master at pointswhere he thought that Smith had erred. Forinstance, accepting the position that Govern-ment ought not to interfere unnecessarilywith the law of supply and demand and thatit should allow the greatest possible libertyto the individual in his dealing with his^feUows, he rejected Smith's adherence toState legislation against Usury, regardingthis as a lapse from his own principles, andupheld the doctrine of non-interference. Thisis the subject

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«* POLITICAL THOUGHTdefends his practice, but is simply an ex-position of the position that it is unwise ofthe legislator to interfere with the usurerinasmuch as interference is certain to do moreharm than good.

Needless to say. Bentham was a strongadherent of the doctrine of Free Trade. Heworks out the subject with great fulness,laying down principles and meeting objec-tions and illustrating all out of his aboundingknowledge; and he lived to see his principleson the point of realization. In his Rationaleof Reward ho lai, Is the principle of unlimitedfreedom of competition, showing the manyadvantages that accrue from it and the manydisadvantages that a limitation of free com-petition entails. All limitations, he holdsare just so much injury to the national wealth.'Only by free competition is it possible tosecure the lowest prices and the best work,and also to make sure that the most vigorousand enterprising shall prevail. As trade isthe child of capital, he has much to say onthe relation of capital to trade; and histhoughts on the subject are worth considerini?at the present moment.Bentham had no particular liking for the

Colonies. Although the retention of them

BENTHAM AS SOCIAL THINKER 85might in lome ways conduce to the welfareof the Colonies themselves and to the goodof mankind, he regarded them as being farfrom a source of wealth to the mother-country,and he would have let them go without com-punction ; taking care, however, that no newones should replace them. His position was,that possession of the Colonies is not neces-sary to carrying on trade with them, and that,even when trade is not carried on with them,the capital that such trade would have re-quired might be applied as productively toother undertakings. This was a doctrine thatappeared again and again in the UtilitarianSchool. The moment of Imperialism was notyet;T^nor could the magnificent support of theMother-Country by the Colonies, in men andmoney, in the hour of danger, as at the presentmoment, have been foreseen.How Bentham contended against mono-

polies, bounties, and the like, is matter ofpast^history, and need not be enlarged onhere. His great object was to expose at allpoints " the fallacy of those artificial effortswhich legislation makes to increase thecountry's wealth"; and, in large measure,he succeeded.

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«e "POLITICAL THOUGHTV. Education.—^Like other great reformers,

Bentham had unswerving confidence in thepower of Education to procure happiness forthe individual and efficiency in his work, andalso to improve the race. Hence, he advo-cated a system of National Education, andrequired