Universalistic Hedonism.

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ethical doctrine that pleasure is the one great end of life, the one ultimate test of rightness and duty. Hedonists contend that not only is there nothing better than pleasure, but that there is nothing so good; that, whilst everything else is a means, enjoyment of one kind or other is an absolute end, for the sake of which all other things are to be desired, valued, and sought. Thus, what Aristotle taught of εὐδαιμονία, or well-being, and denied of ἡδονή, or pleasure, the Hedonists apply to the latter. The Cyrenaic or Epicurean doctrinethat every man's own pleasure is his own proper aim is old enough. It is even now professed by some philosophers, and it is not uncharitable to believe that there are men who act upon it, but who would be ashamed to profess it. Jeremy Bentham, who set up as the standard of conduct 'the greatest happiness of the greatest number,' averred, with his usual bluntness, 'Self-regard alone will serve for diet, though sympathy is very good for dessert.'

The usual form, however, in which Hedonism is defended and championed in our century is that which Mr. Sidgwick has named Universalistic Hedonism, generally known as Utilitarianism. The peculiarity of this system is that it includes, in the regard of the pleasure-seeker, others than the agent, who is, for some reason not well explained, bound to aim, not at his own enjoyment alone, but at that of other sentient beings. In the current terminology which we owe to Comte, Utilitarianism combines Altruism with Egoism. So far as this system bursts the narrow bonds of selfishness, it is to be commended. It was remarked by Professor Grote that the measure of acceptance which Utilitarianism has met with on the part of high-minded men is to be attributed, not to its making pleasure the test and standard of right action, but to its including the pleasures of others the pleasures of all men in the regard of the agent. It fact, many students seem to lose sight of the first element of Utilitarianism in their admiration of the second.

The system under consideration regards human life as to be estimated by the balancing of pleasures and pains. So completely have some psychologists accepted the canons (so called) of Epicurus that most elaborate and pretentious calculations have been made and presented in the guise of algebraic equations in order to set forth the quantitative relations subsisting among these phenomena. Ill adapted as they seem to numerical estimation, there are mathematical Hedonists who deem them not intractable. As the result of their efforts, we have treatises on the 'Hedonical calculus,' which aim at setting forth the probabilities of happiness for various classes under prospective conditions of society.

It would be unjust to suppress the fact that Hedonists assert the superiority of some pleasures over others. Few agree with Bentham that, the amount of enjoyment being the same, pushpin is as good as poetry.' Mr. J. S. Mill has indignantly repudiated such teaching, and has given

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noble complexion to Utilitarianism by discriminating pleasures according to their quality, assigning to those of the intellect and of benevolence a rank higher than to those of sense. This, though just, seems inconsistent with Hedonism proper, which can know nothing beyond the volume and acuteness of these feelings.

Opinions are divided as to whether men in general can attain to pleasures in number and intensity such as to counterbalance the undoubted and inevitable pains of life. Mr Herbert Spencer, the advocate of evolutional ethics, in the form of 'rational Utilitarianism,' remarks that all Hedonists are agreed that the decision of the much debated question, 'Is life worth living?' depends upon the decision of the previous question, 'Do pains exceed pleasures, or pleasures pains?' We do not agree with this; but from both the optimist and the pessimist points of view, it is, of course, a truism. Now, Mr. J. S. Mill may be regarded as a representative of optimistic Utilitarianism: he believed in the possibility and the likelihood of a progressive improvement in the human lot, of the diminution of privation and suffering, and of the increase of the means of general enjoyment. His reliance was partly upon the advance of scientific knowledge, and partly upon the efficacy of beneficent legislation. Spencer's view of the future of humanity is equally hopeful; and his anticipation rests, not simply upon ordinary empirical grounds, but upon confidence in what seems a quasi-transcendental principle-that of evolution. He must certainly be credited with optimism, since he looks forward to the time when people shall be so eager to promote one another's pleasures that there will prevail a kindly competition for the privilege of rendering altruistic services, in which the very feeling of duty or moral obligation will at once and for ever disappear. Mr. Spencer, however, combines with his Hedonism, which is explicit, a scarcely consistent principle; absolute ethics having, according to him, reference to the future development of human society into a form so perfect as to be succeeded only by dissipation and annihilation. With this principle the promotion of pleasure is complicated in such a

Mr.

Optimism and Meliorism.

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manner as to impart some ambiguity to the doctrine of the 'Data of Ethics.' On the whole, it seems that, in the view of the author, the two tests are mutually confirmatory and practically coincident when the scale is sufficiently large.

There is

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modification of utilitarian optimism which deserves attention. Many inquirers into the position and prospects of our race, who believe that only a preponderance of pleasure can render life worth living, are discerning enough to see, and candid enough to admit, that at the present time the misery of millions of men is such that it is doubtful whether there is not more pain than pleasure in the world. They are nevertheless persuaded that there are in existence and in operation moral and social forces which may be reasonably expected to effect, in the course of generations, a great increase in the sum, and a great improvement in the distribution of pleasures. The two philosophers just mentioned incline to this opinion, which has been termed Meliorism, being that shade of optimism which cherishes a reasoned hope of better things for humanity. Mr. Sully, the chief exponent among us of the German Pessimism, is of this way of thinking.

This first of the three theories of life makes morality to turn, as upon a pivot, upon the capacity of human nature for pleasure and pain. If we were not sensitive to these feelings there would be for us (upon this theory) no right and no wrong. That multitudes look upon life in this light is undeniable; its interest for them lies in its opportunities for repeated and varied enjoyments; their aim is to live, in this sense, a rich, full life themselves, and, within limits, to secure such a life for others. The millennium they anticipate is a universal abundance of all manner of delights. To some superficial philanthropists, to some voluptuous writers of verse, and also to some very earnest philosophers, pleasure is the one thing worth living and working for. Virtue and religion may be good, but they are good because, and only because, they promote pleasure. Whether men generally, should they become intelligent Hedonists, will agree with the belief that a lofty morality is the surest path to pleasure, remains to be seen. If pleasure be the supreme good, there are and will be those who deem vice the nearer and more certain road to pleasure than virtue.

Now, we contest this doctrine of morality, this theory of life. Utilitarianism is a part of that empirical philosophy, that phenomenism which, in the time of David Hume, rose like a tidal wave, and which has threatened to submerge the whole territory of human thought and morals. If our individual feelings, our personal experiences, are the beginning and the end of all that can be called knowledge, and are the criteria of all virtue, then Hedonism is the only sound ethical doctrine; in fact, the pursuit of pleasure and the avoidance of pain are a law, a necessity. It may indeed be questioned whether, even in such a case, Hedonism could furnish any sufficient basis for the morality of disinterested benevolence. Certainly, amongst our feelings, the most interesting and absorbing, and the most influential as motives, are those which partake of the nature of pleasure and of pain. Το our mind a somewhat indolent and ignoble tendency is revealed in the wide prevalence of empiricism in general, and of Hedonism in particular. However, the fact is plain, that the doctrine under consideration is a favourite theory of life. This may be owing to its advocacy by some well-known and distinguished thinkers, but perhaps even more to its accordance with a general profession of contented ignorance and indifference with regard to all that transcends our sentient nature.

Of the many objections to be brought against this theory of life, we mention only two or three, which however are, in our view, conclusive.

As a matter of fact, the end which hedonistic optimism represents as partially attainable now, and as certain of attainment in the future, is not within the reach of man. Suffering is as integral a part of human life as is joy; it cannot be eliminated. True, science is helping us and will further help us, to mitigate pain, to avert accidents, to supply in sufficiency the wants of the body. No doubt legislation will remove some inequalities in men's condition, and will give some classes in some countries a fairer chance than is now accorded them in life's conflict. But human life will always be a struggle, a discipline. The kind of trouble men must endure may vary. But the common lot will not be evaded. Life will not become a holiday promenade, and, if it should, it will be drearier than the conflict it will replace. The heart will not cease to throb in distress, to break in agony. Bitter grief, lonely desolation, anguished bereavement, the sense of misused opportunities and of wasted life, the decay of natural powers, the approach of death-these, and a hundred other elements of distress, are likely to last as long as our race dwells upon this earth, the dumb and ancient witness to unnumbered woes.

But if it were possible to inaugurate the reign of universal pleasure, it would not in the best interests of man be desirPleasure not the Proper End and Law of Life.

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able. If it were practicable to fill the life of men with joy, can it be believed that this would be for the moral elevation of humanity? If toil involved no weariness, love no sacrifice, public spirit and benevolent effort no disappointment, life no sorrow, is it credible that such a change would promote the improvement of human character? What would, in such a case, become of the robust, heroic virtues? Is there no meaning in Christ's counsel that we take up our cross daily and follow Him? no virtue in the Divine appointment that we must through much tribulation enter into the kingdom of heaven! Even in the state of blessedness, though the personal contests with sin will have ceased, there may be room for sympathy, for compassion, for self-denying effort. We cannot tell. But we have here to do with life on earth, and surely no small part of earth's discipline and culture arises from the endeavor to bear, patiently and cheerfully, the often heavy burden of duty; to fight the good, but always arduous, fight of faith.

So far as we can judge, the purpose of God in the government of the world is not the prevalence of pleasure. It is an ignoble and irreligious view of human life to represent the eradication of suffering and the multiplication of enjoyments as the one great end of our probation, the one distinctive work of the virtuous man. Saying this, do we lay ourselves open to the charge of asceticism brought by Bentham against those who reject his Hedonism? By no means. Pain is no more an end than pleasure is; both have their place and their purpose in the order of the universe, in the government of God. What we oppose is the doctrine that these are the supremely important, the dominant, factors in the moral life of man.

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But there are some who think that pleasure, though

secondary to the individual, is primary to society. This seems unreasonable. Who of us could acknowledge that his law in life was his own pleasure, however refined, intellectual, social? Who would not shrink from bringing up his children in the faith of the voluptuary? Who, by laying down the axiom-What I like, that is virtuous-would stigmatize himself an Epicurean, a Sybarite? Now, if pleasure be an ignoble end for the individual man to pursue for himself, how does it become a noble end when pursued on behalf of others? If we have a higher standard of conduct than pleasure when we consider our own life, why should we be content with the lower standard when we consider the life of others? If each one of us can conceive and pursue an object superior to plea